Today I feel pretty good. My shoulder aches a bit. My hand is a little sore. Manageable sensations that aren't quite pain, more just something that something isn't quite right. The cool part is that this is after 3 days of yoga. In a row. Granted, it was abbreviated yoga - no planks, down or up dogs. No poses perching on my palms as my legs careen out to the side. But still, yesterday was 3 eagles per side (while standing, wrapping one leg over and then behind the other, squatting down on one foot whole bending forward). Lots of balances, twists, moving.
My body held on. Kept up. The familiar poses took over and I moved. Stretched. Expanded.
Breathed.
That, in itself, was amazing.
But what truly blew me away was how I feel today.
Fine. A little tired. The backs of my legs are slightly sore. After a month of no yoga at all.
My body, my home, my casing, didn't give up on me even when I did. It didn't fall apart, turn to mush, let flab in the front door with a big hello. It kept the candles burning until I was ready to come back.
And here I am. Thankful.
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