I had a great yoga class yesterday.
Which is by no means a veiled attempt to get you to start yogatating. I have learned over the years that while everyone ought to do some kind of physical activity, exactly what kind is right for whom one cannot know unless one is that whom.
I made the change to yoga and walking in place of a personal trainer, because I felt that the gym was done. More sessions would only grow more musculature and life is not all about muscles. I also hypothesized that weight-lifting was increasing my testosterone at a time when I really needed estrogen. That’s what we call “Carnochan Science” ’round here, i.e. you can say it pretty but you cain’t make it true.
Anyway. This yoga class was good not because of bodies and poses, or because the instructor gave us essential oils in our hands at the end, although I like that bit, but because she said something that resonated. “Breathe through your nose,” she said. “If you have to open your mouth you are probably doing too much.”
Wouldn’t it be great if we had a similar simple marker in life? Because I for one used to crave the high of trying really hard, metaphoric muscles shaking, symbolic tendons straining. It’s very easy to keep pushing along using what we’re good at, forgetting about and even damaging the parts of us that can’t keep up. Question being, if we save that mode for real emergencies, do we accomplish less?
Nose-breathing. Not terribly poetic, but then, life requires about as much poetry as it does muscles.
Have a wonderful weekend, in which you try no harder than the least of your abilities allows. Which sounds like giving up but doesn’t have to be, or coasting. Which perhaps it is.