“looking good, Louis…” my husband says from inside the condo.
“feeling good, Billy Ray…” I reply from the balcony while working on a tree pose.
“seriously, I’m feeling good here.”
“huh,” he scoffs. “I would rather be in Vegas than in this humidity.”
“whaaaat? this is perfect. we should move here. I think the humidity is really helping. even with the heat, my legs have hardly been buzzing at all since we’ve been here…”
“or it’s that you’re yoga-ing again and mellowing…or maaaaybe your meds are working….what do you think about that?”
I look through my legs in down dog, and stick my tongue out at him.
it then hits me…I really am feeling better.
the best I have felt since before July 29th when my legs crapped out on me. when all I had to worry about was work and not having enough time to spend with my friends.
…maybe it’s the break from work.
…maybe it’s the stress-free life on Marco Island…where outside of my sisters, we are the second youngest couple on the island.
or maybe it’s just the fact that I’m taking a break. period. a break to do nothing.
sometimes it’s hard to do nothing. don’t you agree?
my therapist asked me on Sunday what I’m going to do while in Florida if I start to feel a wiggle of stress starting to squirm.
she nods approvingly.
yes, I murmur to myself. insta-follow up thought: silly approval seeker. note to self: work on that.
“we will work on you being kinder to you, Erin. but for now, you don’t need to do anything. I don’t want you to stress about being nicer to yourself! take it slowly.”
seriously, can this woman read my mind?
“that sounds good to me!” I say…though eager to fast forward six months and experience treating myself with utter kindness and mercy.
then I stop my thoughts as I see them starting to grow, and remind myself that all I can focus on is right now.
I breathe out.
I can do this. turtle steps are just fine.