Putting a number to the times I've laid down my yoga mat with a heavy heart or began pedaling with a mind full of conflicting voices would be impossible. The moments have been too many to count. My uncomfortable moments, all too familiar these past 4 years.
Starting with a solo cross country move, career change, settling into divorcee status, the dating scene, a cancer diagnosis, harvesting eggs, surgery, radiation/chemotherapy, a loss of direction and vision, the rebuilding and accepting of a physically and mentally altered Sara, a partnership put to the test in 14 million ways, and the determination of bringing life to my foundation has had me on one hell of a ride, the kind of ride where you beg and scream to get off as you twist and turn, but grin from ear to ear when the pace slows.
And the pace always slows. I've learned this. I've experienced it time and time again. It may take a seemingly large number of downhill routes or abrupt changes in direction that catch you off guard to finally reach that smooth coast, that temporary state of contentment and ease, but it does come. After the jolts, after the tears, after the worry...a calm arrives.
Acknowledging that this ride called life will take me up, down and all around without my permission, without request, I've found what I can do to lighten my heart, quiet my mind, and soothe my soul when I'm on the opposite end of slow and steady.
I do yoga. I spin. I dance. I sweat. I breathe. I smile. I love.
This is my therapy.