Many bloggers find themselves falling short of time to write, and I have been quite remiss in posting for some time. All for good reasons of course. Busy work schedule–and that is something to say for a freelancer at the beginning of the summer! Quality time with the family is another important priority. But, also, I need to feel inspired to write. There is just no reason to ask for your attention and time if I’ve only posted to maintain a presence in general. You stop to read my posts because you’ve found something you enjoy or look forward to. I won’t mess with that and would rather hope that I don’t disappoint when I appear.
Honestly, you know what has taken away from my creativity? A lack of yoga. While we all can and should practice our yoga anywhere and anytime we can, I am very much a creature of community and do also need a spiritual conversation or exchange with like-minded people as often as possible. My absences from my yoga class have caused a disruption in my creative flow.
I did receive some spiritual nourishment last weekend when I spent time in the Catskills with my family. I’ve been part of that world, or it has been part of me, since I was born. It’s my second home, my only long-term/permanent address before we landed in our current home. That refreshing return to the known, the dependable, was rejuvenating.
From the moment I roll down my window to smell the wild grasses and flowers and hear the sounds of the creek flowing full after the rains to the time I unlock the door of the cabin and see the stone fireplace waiting for the evening flames, I feel like myself again. I know what is expected of me and the tasks involved with settling in are never resented like those of the usual world of work and housework. Even the relentless encroachment of nature that includes mice inside and porcupines chewing the outside walls is more embraceable than dusting and vacuuming at home.
This is much, to me, like taking a yoga class with my favorite instructor Allison Levine and the people I’ve come to know over the years instead of fighting for space at home. I may be able to practice at home, but do I embrace the poses the same way? Am I able to remain mindful? Honestly, no. I need to roll my mental window down and breathe in a different kind of air. One filled with the comforting voices of people I care about, music that inspires happiness even in my least favorite pose (side plank), or that does not immediately deliver the scents of obligation like laundry detergent or cooking food (as nice as that may be).
So, quality wins. I make the time to write or practice as I can and in the location that encourages the kind of mindset that heals and energizes me. Write mindfully and practice authentically, even if that means not always getting in the volume you desire.