Trying my hardest to get back at it. Trying on 'normal life' and hoping it still fits. I've been going to yoga and trying to run, this old body feeling sore and tired, weathered but not beaten.
There's a lot to keep up with, there always is. There is for everyone and I'm not here to moan about it. But this week I made some time to get back to what I love. On Monday I went for a run, my third in as many months. I'm still getting my stride back, trying to breathe through the fire of my lungs and lift the lead that is my thighs. But as I stepped out onto my street and started running towards the gold of the streetlight a few metres up, I felt it. The lightness and joy of it, of moving my body and feeling free with it. I've been listening to A LOT of Dessert Island Discs lately, and that classical intro was playing as I headed out into the night and there was something perfect about it. A moment where everything felt right.
On Tuesday I managed three hours of yoga, a power class and a yin class back-to-back down in Bondi. They were the last classes with Persia, one of my favourite teachers these past five years, someone who somehow, always shares just what I need. She talked about change, the certainty of it and being able to go with it. After so many years riling against it, I smiled. I know now how small moments had lead to bigger ones, and how it all felt easier. Change is just a practice. I am calmer with it, more able to feel it and embrace it. I thought of all the hundreds of salutations Persia has lead me through over the years, so much a part of that shift, and felt so grateful for her warmth and compassion.