like water
a boy i used to hang with a few years back let very little get to him. between his bi-weekly hapkido sessions and daily yoga musings, not much remained in him that would cause anxiety. for me, back then meant drinking like a fish in order to wash away, if only temporarily, the reality of two jobs, car and credit card payments, unrequited love. as you can imagine, the drink didn’t cure any of my life afflictions, so upon witnessing this boy’s calming demeanour, i decided to tinker with the magic of yoga. but longing for instantaneous results, my inability to stand on my head after only a few attempts left me to snooze my alarm clock when it hit 4:30 am.
needing something spiritual rekindled in my life, i think another stab at yoga is in order. it’s either that, or getting back to my catholic upbringing. certainly that would bring joy to the maternal order, but i can’t type that sentiment without gagging slightly.
why the reminiscent thought of this boy and his yoga ways? because, not surprising, life gets me down occasionally, and after a particularly unpleasant beginning to a sticky wednesday, i realize i need a way to release those mental toxins. but the remedy must be convenient. surely if i had my way, i would be about 85 feet below the ocean surface, hovering in a large shoal of fishes everytime something was amiss.
a phrase that was coined during this era in my life that i wish to adopt and uphold:
“it rolls down like water, like water off my back.”