The good news is that I’ve been very busy recently. The bad news is that I’ve been very busy recently.
I’m moving through it relatively well. My self-care and meditation practices are still nonnegotiable. I’m making it to yoga. I’m breathing and writing and practicing (sometimes intermittent) mindfulness. And I’m having fun with all, if not nearly all, that I’m doing.
But I’m very busy.
I noticed it – more starkly than usual – when I treated myself to a massage a few weeks ago. It had been months since my last massage. My weekly gift to myself had somehow started to feel like a burden and a to-do. Weird, I know. So I took a little break from massages, and my little break grew and grew. I was very busy, and kept forgetting to carve out time for a massage.
But I did, just a few weeks ago. I carved out time on a Saturday morning, headed off to the massage place, lay myself down on the table…and watched my mind race. And race. And race. Somehow in that moment of lying still, I was immensely and intensely aware of how not still I was. And had been.
Objects at rest tend to stay at rest, and objects in motion tend to stay in motion. I guess I was feeling my motion slowly slow down and pause, but in the meantime, I was just feeling it. And it was weird.
But it got my attention. It made me reflect on how fast and constant my pace has been – even with my yoga and meditation and mindfulness – and it made me reflect on how fast and constant I want it to be.
I’m fine with going fast at times – many times in fact. I’m fine with full steam ahead and moving quickly and powerfully. But only if it’s by choice. Only if it’s intentional. And only if I’m really, really sure I’m taking care of myself – and finding my moments of peace, quiet, and slowness – along the way.
So I scheduled another massage.
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