Don't You Remember


I remembered something today.

I was at home, practicing. The stickiness of the summer day filling my living room. Helping me build heat. Slow, languid sun salutations. Lots of free movement. Trying to feel looser inside of my shapes, less rigid, less held. Incorporating some exercises from a new studio where I’ve been taking class.

Somewhere around pigeon, I took a detour to my inversion wall. It’s this space in my hallway that opens through a doorway into the living room. Meaning that I can practice inversions without kicking through a wall or knocking over a piece of furniture. That’s city living for you- thank heaven for small favors.

My inversion practice is pretty basic- shoulderstand, plow, headstand. Everything else requires a wall. Part of the reason is that I don’t practice forearm stand, handstand, scorpions, and the whole milieu of body mazing-ness that extends from there, very often.

What can I say. I’m afraid of falling.

But I do practice them sometimes. And I did practice forearm stand on this particular evening. When I worked on it last, I was able to kick up, tap the wall, and maybe just barely find myself hovering for a moment before my toes succumbed to gravity’s pull.

Today was different. I stretched one leg up high, my toes hardly grazed the wall, and I was…there. Balancing, floating, legs extended straight up in space. One breath, two. Three, four. Lighter than I’ve felt in the pose before. My body knew what to do without my intercession, my muscling and struggling. It clicked.

Around five breaths I fell out. I’m not too proud to say I started to cry. I’ve been out of sorts the last few days. A great many decisions in my life right now seem to be beyond my control, a bunch of questions swirling in the air. I don't know what the answers are, and, more distressingly, I don't know when I'll uncover them.

But I remembered something today. Everything happens in its own time. You can’t rush, and you don’t have to force, and you grow and change and shift, just by virtue of living another day. As in forearm stand, so in life.

In love and light, Kristen