I recently started taking yoga again, because the opportunity presented itself (the class is nearby and conveniently scheduled) and because it’s possible that I tend to be just a tiny bit high-strung (NO REALLY). I love the way yoga makes me feel, both physically and emotionally. If I’m able to just let go of everything else and enjoy it, it’s a really wonderful way to feel refreshed and centered for at least an hour.
Of course, whenever we do any poses in class that require me to balance on one foot, I try very hard to calm my mind and my body and be one with my mat and all of that, and to just stand still… but in reality I weave from side to side and my muscles shudder and twitch and my “up” foot thumps to the floor as I catch myself from falling on my face. My balance, you see, isn’t all that great. And that turns out to be a great metaphor for balance in my life, actually, because as much as I want it, the rare times I achieve it are shaky at best, and short-lived. At some point the other foot—metaphorical or real—has to hit the floor again to prevent disaster.
I suppose it’s no wonder that I gravitate towards writing and people that reiterate that work-life balance is merely a myth we all want to believe. That’s comforting, knowing I’m not the only one who just can’t seem to get it right.
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