I went to a yoga class today at the community center. It seemed to last forever because I have lost so much flexibility. After class several people said that I was quite flexible, but I knew otherwise. What used to be easy is now hard. I having been reading Oriah Mountain Dreamer’s book, The Calling. In it, she suggests we find a word that we embody, the word that is calling to us. Her word is rest and that may well be mine, too. I love what Pamela Wilson says, “Rest and rapture, what else is there?”

I have a deep tendency to go too fast, to be impulsive, to hurry through anything I do. So rest is a great word for me to live. I see the salmon and golden colored leaves right outside my dining room window. I feel the stiffness in my neck. I hear a slight ringing in my ears. This is it. This is what I can rest with.

Right after Bob died, I realized that he could at last rest, and so could I. No more trips for transfusions, for treatments. To this day, I savor the resting I now can do. That is why I feel so little need for entertainment or travel. Just a good solid day at home fills the bill. I resisted getting in the car and driving to the yoga class. I got all bollixed up trying to find the right road into the center. Everything was one-way but I made it. I made it. And I plan to go back next week, resistant though I am.

Spiritual writing is a piece of cake for me. It comes so easily because it is my passion. In that passion I can rest. In that passion I come more alive. Yoga, not so much 🙂 But I need the discipline of it right now. My tight muscles need unwinding. My resistance needs to be met with awareness.
This life is always asking us what our word is, what our mission might be. On different days, we might choose different words, but our keyword remains the same. So I say unto myself, rest, and again I say, rest.

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