So, there is a thing you do in yoga, toward the end of your workout (is that apt? “workout”…for yoga?), called Savasana. Our yoga instructor – the same cranky Jeff from spin class (but not so cranky any more…perhaps because of yoga) – calls it the “upload,” where you take what your body has experienced in the class and let it filter into your brain. I just looked it up, and another name for Savasana is “corpse pose.” Hmm. Not sure actual corpses do a lot of thinking, much less uploading, but okay. That’s sort of how you look in Savasana — completely relaxed and boneless, lying on your back, on your mat, legs and arms spread and loose.
(BTW, that is not me, up there. Just in case you were wondering. I’m curious about that tattoo on her shoulder, though, and I am realizing I miss my ribcage. Menopause: bite me.
Some people fall asleep in Savasana.
My life is sort of one big Savasana right now.
I’m tired of spiritual amnesia. I’m tired of feeling like I’m stuck on “spin cycle.” I am now willing (forced) to recognize my absolute need to stay grounded, to remain in this slow, arduous process of learning to walk with a limp – i.e., forget about getting that “A+” in AP Grief Management – but I also am not content to stay in a prison of my own making. I am willing (forced) to give myself plenty of space for falling apart (as detailed in that last post), but I am not willing to stay in the dark.
I am choosing light. At least today.
I am choosing to believe in the delightful little miracles and not get caught up in questioning that which is ultimately unknowable. At least today.
I am choosing to believe God cares deeply about me, about Mark, about Sarah and Steve and our family (and all the others whose hearts broke when Mark died), and that – if we let Him – He is weaving, He can and will weave that sorrow and pain into the fabric of a personal and collective good that is greater than we can imagine.
I am chasing resilience, as best I can. One day at a time.
Time for Savasana. Time to upload.
Psalm 34: 18 reads:
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
That is my theme right now, what I am trying to live by and under. This is really quite the Superhero verse. No ifs. No buts. Broken hearts, crushed spirits happen (and that isn’t going to change because here isn’t There) and we are saved.
I’m asking a few people about their resilience – where does it come from? how do they maintain it? – and I’m hoping they will let me share their answers.I’d love to hear from you if you would like to add your own story or observations.