One of the ways I’ve been upping my self-care is through my yoga practice. More and more yoga practice. I am lucky that my yoga studio runs and posts new virtual classes every day. It is a saving grace for me.
As I practiced the other day, the teacher offered this thought – “We can always begin again.” I need to remember that now.
When my older child was young, I used to remind them that we could start the day over again any time we wanted to. If things were going sour; if a bad mood had overtaken one of us; if we were in a funk – we always had the option to “begin the day again” so we could see it as a good day rather than a day run amuck.
At the time, my kid would pause, smile, and then pantomime getting out of bed and brushing their teeth – to literally begin the day again. Which isn’t quite what I meant, and isn’t necessary. We don’t have to repeat the actions that started our day in order to start over, but, at the time, I happily went along.
And today, as some days – and some moments – are easier than others and some are just hard, it is a blessing to remember that I can always begin again. I can start anew. I can offer myself a “wipe the slate clean” moment for my current moments and intentionally focus myself as I want to focus. I can soothe my heart, offer love and care to those around me (oh, and to myself), notice the beauty and the good. Or, if it’s all I can do, I can have compassion with myself if I’m in a funk and I can’t get out.
As of earlier this week, there is at least one Corona case in Danny’s (my dad’s) nursing home. As of this morning, I missed a phone call from the nursing home and I’m waiting for them to call me back and tell me why they called. I am breathing and refocusing and restarting my day and my moments moment-by-moment. I am letting in all the ease and love around me. I am sitting with my hand on my heart. I am remembering that I don’t yet know if he is sick, and I do know that this is completely out of my control. I am expressing tons of gratitude that I moved Danny close to me last August and have seen him nearly every week since then. I am acknowledging that, yes, he can be quite challenging and difficult (to put it mildly, as friends and family would remind me), and yes, ours is a complicated relationship. But, yes also, I am grateful that I’ve been his primary caregiver for the last decade plus and that we’ve had some special moments, and yes, I do adore my dad.
Thank you for your patience as I dumped all that here. (P.S. For now, at least, he’s fine.)
I take a breath. I put my hand on my heart. I feel the love.
I remember that I can always begin again.
I’d love to hear your thoughts, and please share this post with others if it resonates with you!