I'm someone who finds it easy to fall into a routine. I can be very organized and militaristic when I feel I need to be, which impacts my creative output, so I try to temper that. So coming back has been an odd mixture of hanging loose and reestablishing a routine.
I've enjoyed coming back to my mat. I was surprised how stiff my body felt after a month of only 2-3 practices. Even after a week of daily practice, I still struggle with simple poses, but I'm giving myself time. That is an aspect I've been reveling in, falling in love with the daily practice, which I see as a great lucky thing. To be able to move my bones, to feel myself expand and alleviate pain and stiffness. It's a great and simple treasure.
I've also enjoyed reestablishing a massage routine. I used to do facial massages every day before I left for Spain, and tried to keep them up there, but that only worked sporadically. Too much to do, so I gave myself a conscious break. In my face, as in my body, I'm surprised how stiff I've become, though I'm slowly reconquering myself. My neck, my chest, my feet.
How often do you touch your feet? I'm willing to bet it's not a whole lot, unless it's to alleviate discomfort or brush something away, or in the shower. It's interesting to me how little we touch ourselves, how few of us find familiarity in the feel of our shins, our ribcage.
They're yours. And only for a brief while. Shouldn't you know?
Is it shame that keeps us from being more familiar with our own bodies? Is there a weirdness to massaging your calves? or is it that we're embarrassed by our own bodies? I don't want to touch my belly much because I'll feel the loosey-goosey flesh that ought to maybe be taut and firm and all square-like, and it's not. And then, I'll have to acknowledge that I hate certain aspects of me, so don't touch myself at all.
Or is it simply that we're not taught to make time? Except that's not hard. There's plenty of time. You make time for watching something on Netflix or listening to a podcast. There's plenty of times where we leave our bodies on dead, when we could be engaging with them. I like to stretch or massage while my mind is occupied, because I can hold both in the balance, and while it seems tricky at first, they actually help you hold the other.
Like, I often find a podcast goes by easier if I'm using the time to do something practical with my body. It also helps me focus on what's being said without my body feeling that inertia, that restlessness.
Or maybe it's sin by extension. If the traditional understanding of touching yourself is shrouded in such shame, maybe we think it extends to the other areas of our body by default.
I don't know. But I do think it contributes to healthy living, getting to know the landscape of your body, 'cause you live here no matter where else you go, so you better get acquainted.
It's an interesting practice. Similar to yoga, in some ways. In that, at first, you might not get very far and become frustrated with your muscles for not stretching too much, not being flexible enough. The same disappointment you might feel realizing your belly or your thighs aren't what you thought.
But if you stick with it, you're not able to stay in the frustration forever. Daily practice starts being defined by learning your limits. How far you can stretch. How wobbly the backs of your arms are. And you think huh, so that's where that is and how that looks and feels. Ok.
And you learn to work with that, and maybe even love the work with what you're given. And isn't that nice?
