Wounded Warriors

I don't know if it was hanging out with the Jade Buddha (see previous post) or realizing that my days of being able to outrun my children are quite numbered but I have spent this week thinking about my physical self and how much things have changed.

I have come to the conclusion that I am a wounded warrior. Then, I came to the conclusion that we are all wounded warriors...now, or soon to be. We are all going to age and parts will break down...hopefully little bits but sometimes big parts and then, well, then you come face to face with the way things are going to be...age, sickness, and struggle. Still, the fear is the thing. After my heart surgery, my heart speeds up and sometimes skips a beat altogether. The neurological symptoms that were supposed to disappear are still hanging around and all in all, I thought I would be better, cured, fixed, etc. The thing is, I feel good but sometimes fear pushes in and I worry about the next stroke or leaving my children behind. That is my disability now, the fear.

For me, I have decided that yoga is no longer a luxury but something my body needs as I recover from a lifetime of going into the fray. To say that I am a remedial yogini after all these years is an understatement but it is time to establish a daily practice. Today, I did some yoga and then some meditation and I was able to let go of the fear....and then came the miracle of compassion toward myself. Yep, I can't touch the floor with my hands and I can forget about the pigeon and exalted warrior poses but I have a bunch of energy to go sew on my daughter's daisy patches.

Namaste and go easy on yourself