Movement and Distraction

“How many surgeons does it take to remove a belly ring?!”

— my boyfriend in the OR

I am grateful for everything I have, everything I know, everything I am.

My back is heavy, my arms are shaking, my mind is nervous. But I’ll keep showing up anyway!

I do not have an answer for most things, and like I said — I depend on you to need my help, and if you push me away — that’s okay. It’s not personal anyway. Movement and distraction, a fine walking line. A fine line that I find myself chewing through with my teeth often, should I fidget and move with rapid haste or should I be still?

The three minute wall sit is an experience that dharma mom would often include in her rigorous fiery fast paced yoga class. Nostalgia, for the grounding and challenging yoga classes past. I struggle to find that here lately. That’s no one’s fault, the common denominator is myself.

I often found myself connecting with the wrathful righteousness that dharma mom embodies. My fiery spirit and my eagerness to prove myself, it might often get me into trouble. Especially when it comes to the wall sit. I have long femurs and short tibia, and when it seems like I finally find the right position for my glutes to be supported by the wall, by minute two, I find myself swimming in the pool of distraction.

Dharma mom and I both just had surgery. Wildly different karmic experiences, however, supported and terrifying all at once. At the end of the day we both like to get stuff done, and having to be still — a quiet agony. Looking forward to being able to do that wall sit again. Even if just for a minute. Especially if I could see her again soon and do the wall sit with her! Now I might be asking for too much… a person’s company.

When I experience this immense pain now, I try my best to stay peaceful within, focusing on my breathing, and staying with the sensations. To stay with a sensation is to feel openly and objectively.

I am also working on not bashing out my behavior on those closest to me — they don’t deserve that. Yet, I long for a sense of community and connection within these peaks and valleys, I’ll find what’s meant for me. Anger settles in with secret intentions to motivate me.

Slowing down and moving mindfully gives me space to honor what my body needs in this moment. When I pause to listen, I can make choices that support my healing rather than rushing through the discomfort with haste.

By bringing awareness to my breath and sensations, I create moments of peace even within pain.

This presence grounds me in my body's wisdom.