Returning to yoga yesterday was like a homecoming celebration.
Last fall, I stopped practicing yoga due to a back injury. My doctor had recommended I take time off from exercising and unfortunately, I took his advice. In truth, his advice was convenient because I wasn’t feeling motivated at the time.
Time passed. Too much time.
This spring, I returned to running and yesterday, I finally re-entered the yoga studio. Exploring my body through yoga was like exploring a dusty attic of forgotten memories. Despite my neglect, I cleared the cobwebs to find that my body was still there to support me, even if weaker than usual.
I dropped down to child’s pose often to take breaks. Living with narcolepsy, I’ve stopped comparing myself to those around me, especially at the gym. My journey is my own; my challenges invisible. I exercise for pleasure and don’t count miles, minutes or calories. I just sink into my body and do what feels right.
After class, I beamed from ear to ear and head to toe. Yoga is my body smiling.
Ironically, last year’s back injury has persisted despite my exercise hiatus. Last night, my back felt better than ever and I slept soundly without tossing and turning in pain. In the future, I’ll think twice before taking a doctor’s advice so literally.
For today, I’m thankful for my renewed inspiration. Not sure why it took me so long, but I’m SO glad to be back. Namaste!