This morning as I begin my yoga practice mindfully I will create an intention, bring awareness inward to breath and focus my energy on a person, an aspiration, a dream, a hope, a purpose or something I wish to change in the world or in my life (yoga isn’t just patchouli, kumbaya and hocus-pocus, bitches). Today my intent is restraint.
Having spent much of the past couple-to-few years railing wildly against it (figuratively, like a device or means of restraining, a harness for the body or spirit) I call out to my quiet self to bring the needle to center. To fill the sometimes empty holes with more joy and self-love (dirty) instead of food or drink or casual people and casual situations. It is a good, wise and difficult thing to know your foibles, to be fully aware of triggers and behaviors that ring the alarm bell to a fire in the hole. To know you’re not really at peace, not really being truthful or loving enough, not really being accepting of what and who you are in the moment.
So this morning I forgive the eating to the point of sickness. I forgive how effortless the bottom of the wine bottle appears when it’s just me looking into it. I forgive being torn between something that feels real and like I’ve always heard it should be and someone who can still bring me to the edge of temptation since that’s how it always was.
The love of self is real, regardless of sometimes sliding. I trust myself.