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I am sitting in my arm chair at home in front of two large windows staring into the cottony world outside, only ten or so feet away.  Bear is sleeping, and all of the sounds of the day are muffled by the blanket of continually-falling flakes.  I think that Bear must be wearing fluffy, white earmuffs, because she slept late this morning and continues to nap without any sign of waking.

I am supposed to be working on a motion.  I’d rather practice yoga in the snowy light.  Instead, I’m writing about it, which is good compromise, I think.

I woke early this morning with the intention of practicing yoga then.  I drug myself out of bed, stopped for a moment to peek outside at the white covering every visible surface, and snuck as quietly as possible down our squeaky hallway and into the room where I now sit with the intention of starting my day with yoga.  I was partway through my first sun salutation – battling my slippery hands that threatened to flatten my down dog – when my phone beeped.  I peered at it in my dark room thinking bad thoughts about the bozo who was spam-texting me at 5:30 in the morning.  Instead, after some contemplation, my still-sleeping brain realized the significance of the message.  Bear’s daycare was closed for the day!

As a hastily worked-out childcare arrangement, I spent several productive hours at work this morning, and then traded places with my husband, so he could practice law and I could stay and play with Bear.  I think that I negotiated the better deal.

This morning, my husband emailed to ask if the Cozy Coupe had all-wheel drive.  This afternoon, I think that we’ll find out!

RANDOM BEARISMs:  At lunch, Bear pointed at a picture of Martha Stewart and said, “Grandma.”  This is almost as complimentary as the time she pointed at a picture of Beyonce and said, “Mommy.”  I choose to understand this as “Mommy looks like Beyonce” rather than, “I wish Beyonce was my mommy.” 

Further RANDOM BEARISMs:  When Bear woke up from her nap, she sat up in her crib and told me, “Me and Margot are going to go out in it.”  Margot is a friend in her class at daycare.  And by “go out in it,” I think that she meant the snow.  I’m glad that my $14 at Target for snow pants will finally see justification.  Now, if only I knew where Margot lived . . . .

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In response to my first post of the year, Kate of Infertile Myrtle reminded me, “Don’t let this blog cause you any sort of grief, . . . don’t feel like you owe anybody anything, remember, this blog is for you, not us.” She is right. I let so much in life cause me needless grief. I spend way too many hours attempting to work myself out of some self-created debt to others; worried what they think of me and what that must say about me.

Yesterday, as I lay in attempted repose in savasana at the end of my favorite yoga class, I found myself worrying if I was doing it correctly.  Are my shoulders in the right place? Is my face peaceful? Is my lower back arched too high? After all, the teacher had adjusted me twice before in previous classes, pulling my legs so that my lower back rested on the floor.

For heaven’s sake, can’t I even relax without beating myself up?

Kate’s words came to mind.  I reminded myself that this yoga was for  me.  Not anyone else. This was my savasana.  I need to take control of my life and stop living it for others.  I think that I’ll find it a lot more sustainable, peaceful, productive and creative – not to
mention a lot more enjoyable and fulfilling – if I silence the internal critic and empower myself to live for me.

Thanks, Kate.  Feel free to remind me of this. . . and often.

POST EDIT – Sorry for all of the re-posts.  I used Word Press’s application for my mobile device, and that was a MISTAKE.  It renamed my post and removed every hard return and inserted new ones.

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