I couldn’t even get through a 20 min yoga practice this AM, my mind irritated and flaming with other thoughts and inclination, my nasal cavity jammed with flem sliding slinky-dinky into my throat. I wanted to quit, even standing up and getting a drinnk for a moment, but that inner voice goaded me on to finish it. It’s like “giving up is NOT an option” and the irritation came from not doing today what I could yesterday. Obviously, I am in some race with myself.
And I see this quality in my best friend Jack, who is almost 90. A self-imposed scrutiny that emanates irritability and displeasure when feeling sinful, missing the mark set out for oneself. He makes demoralizing comments that his “memory isn’t as good as it used to be,” and at times will expel an “AH!” when his nose drips or his back creaks. Here is a body weathered two major wars, eyes pulsing through the air as a pilot, hands that volunteered as a rescue fire fighter, legs that carried children and a heart where he gives cash away on the sly to young struggling starving mothers. He has good hearing, eyesight, can walk. He amazes.
And yet, there is no loving kindness for what he HAS because he is forever measuring up to what HE lost, or declined. But perhaps it really isn’t a decline in functioning, but a transition. When I don’t run as fast or far, or bend as easy or feel as upbeat as the day before, this uncomfortable feeling sinks in. This voice of judgment and accusation. I must have done something WRONG to feel this way.
And let’s face it: we avoid what makes us uncomfortable. “Giving Up”
But that’s exactly what I needed, but didn’t do.
Competition shreds our differences…especially when it is between me and me. It demands conformity and same-ness…and that’s not truly living.
Can you relate?
I wanted to share this with you real quick: I am discovering a little joy of snapping pictures lately: This is Brugge, Belgium. Breathtaking (more on that later!)