That Avenue

Got home from Zumba at 9:20 p.m. Spent a portion of class eyeballing myself in the mirror and wondering how I arrived at plump again. It's not the first time and it won't be the last time for musings of that sort.

When my mind goes down that avenue, I also feel like a bit of an ingrate because I love to feel my body in motion and I'm doing that -- plump or not.

Saw Dianne Bondy repost the situation below on Instagram and it totally resonated.

You are, we all are, so much more than our bodies. Your spirit withers under the pressure of counting, measuring,  weighing because your energy gets drained 😦 use your brain,  wisdom & energy for meaningful and important things in life, whatever that is for you 💙 Thanks to healthyplace.com (sorry,  Insta chopped the bottom off!) #bodypositive #bodycare #bodyrespect #mindfulness #spirit #energy #edrecovery #endeds #recoveryispossible #healing

A photo posted by Fiona Sutherland (@themindfuldietitian) on Oct 5, 2016 at 1:43pm PDT

When I went to the yoga event on Saturday, I was pretty sure that they'd be taking pictures and when I saw the camera on a tripod and a remote control, I cringed. Later on when I saw a picture on Instagram, I studied my image. I like the picture.We are all in action -- doing variations of a pose. I also like that it is not a staged picture. I don't like that I'm plump. However, I enjoyed the class. I was able to do almost everything. I laughed. I sang. I got high off of being around good people...

Original Photo by 314Yoga

Fiery and Feisty...

Didn't make it out of bed before 10 on Saturday or Sunday which meant that I didn't make it to yoga on Sunday but that was okay since I went to yoga on Saturday which I don't normally do and that practice sustained me. Dianne Bondy was in town and I went to a class that benefited Operation Backpack.

Dianne is a little firecracker and I enjoyed the class that managed to be fiery but gentle. It was a playful practice and I also liked the feisty soundtrack.

I don't know Dianne but I miss her. It gets lonely at yoga sometimes. Think Sharon Old's -- My Father Snoring:

...there were none of his kind around there anywhere.

For the bulk of time when I don't see anyone in yoga class who looks like me, I remind myself that I am surrounded by good people with good intentions and move on.

I also realized during a pop-up yoga event that I really like this teacher who jokes during class so, apparently, I like my yoga with a little of laughter and playfulness on the side...

It was really cute tonight when the woman next to me said Oooh, let me concentrate on relaxing. I think Monday is the only day that she comes to yoga so she's serious about making the most of her time on the mat.

Saw this poem on On Being's Instagram feed and it has been very comforting of late.

"Relax" by Ellen Bass Bad things are going to happen. Your tomatoes will grow a fungus and your cat will get run over. Someone will leave the bag with the ice cream melting in the car and throw your blue cashmere sweater in the drier. Your husband will sleep with a girl your daughter’s age, her breasts spilling out of her blouse. Or your wife will remember she’s a lesbian and leave you for the woman next door. The other cat– the one you never really liked–will contract a disease that requires you to pry open its feverish mouth every four hours. Your parents will die. No matter how many vitamins you take, how much Pilates, you’ll lose your keys, your hair and your memory. If your daughter doesn’t plug her heart into every live socket she passes, you’ll come home to find your son has emptied the refrigerator, dragged it to the curb, and called the used appliance store for a pick up–drug money. There’s a Buddhist story of a woman chased by a tiger. When she comes to a cliff, she sees a sturdy vine and climbs half way down. But there’s also a tiger below. And two mice–one white, one black–scurry out and begin to gnaw at the vine. At this point she notices a wild strawberry growing from a crevice. She looks up, down, at the mice. Then she eats the strawberry. So here’s the view, the breeze, the pulse in your throat. Your wallet will be stolen, you’ll get fat, slip on the bathroom tiles of a foreign hotel and crack your hip. You’ll be lonely. Oh taste how sweet and tart the red juice is, how the tiny seeds crunch between your teeth. [Image by Megan Leetz, via Flickr] #poetry #relax

A photo posted by On Being (@onbeing) on Sep 23, 2016 at 7:16am PDT

Your Best Self Now

Baltimore

As I reminiscence about the yoga retreat, repeatedly playing Diana Ross's Love Hangover and Nico and Vinz's Am I Wrong and Another Day, I also think back to a yoga session in Negril when Joy said It's easy to be your best self now...

I especially think about this sentiment since returning to work. Took two weeks off which is a good thing in general but especially since I had an allergic reaction to something and had to take Benadryl for a week and, later in the game, stronger medicine.

Let's just say that I was itching so much that my dermatologist asked if I needed something to help me sleep.

At any rate, my musings remind me of messages making the social media rounds like Be in love with your life. Every minute of it -- Jack Kerouac or My goal is to build a live that I don't need a vacation from... 

Even as I try to fall in love with my life for the umpteenth time, I know that the "rat race" is going to test my resolve. As Joy said, It's easy to be your best self when on vacation but, knowing that, I'm going to work on filling my well and try to be my best self outside the parameters of vacation. Of course, yoga (energy work etc.) helps with that a lot whether or not I'm on a retreat or in a studio.

Beach-Side Fruit Market

Sunset At The Resort