Day 34 Check-In Time

Well, finally, a day when all the postures seemed to just… flow. So, since I’m thinking about it, here’s where my body and I are at after 34 straight days of Bikram Yoga:

Postures: Pretty solid on all of them. They say that as some postures become easier, others become more difficult, and I’m definitely seeing this. But Standing Head-to-Knee remains my nemesis, still can’t lock that right knee for $&!#

Body parts: Right hip, still a little painful, but nothing like it was. And the noises are mostly gone! I never expected that. Arms: I think they’ve actually gotten bigger. Frick. I look like an East German Olympic swimmer. (A retired one, but still.) Butt: higher. Thighs: leaner. Belly: still jiggles but there’s a faint line of muscle under the flab that I haven’t seen before.

Weight: no change. Well, maybe a pound or two, but it’s hard to take those seriously until they’re joined by a few more.

Brain: clearer, a nice change from my usual fog. I’ve got a book proposal, possibly two, in the works and for the first time in a long time, I feel good about them. Like, I could actually write something meaningful, authentic, that could possibly be sufficiently entertaining to garner a commercial audience. (translation: a decent offer from a decent publisher.)

Heart/soul: as the aches and pains in my body lessen, I’m becoming more aware of the things that hurt on a deeper, more existential level, the losses and disappointments that rear their heads in midlife. Now, I’m fully aware that I live a comfortable upper-middle class life in the best country in the world. I’m aware of Libya and Japan. Terrifyingly aware. Death, destruction, pain, horror, it’s everywhere, on a macro-scale, as well as in the microcosm of each of our teeny-tiny lives. I don’t know what to do with it all somedays. “Life is pain, Highness,” as I quoted earlier.

I guess the upshot at this stage is that it feels good to be doing something hard. I’m so aware of the things I can’t do, or have forgotten or was never particularly good at in the first place. For instance, I’ll never be a Cirque du Soleil Flying Girl, like this:

Aerial Pas de Deux.

Professional figure skater is out, as is veterinarian, nurse-midwife, and a host of other things I once aspired to. But what can I be, in the second half of my life? I simply don’t know. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of demand for middle-aged mystics who are good spellers and can bake bread. All I can say for certain is that I’m trying to face the stuff of life, without backing down, without chickening out.

And maybe one day, get my forehead. To. My. God. DAMN. KNEE!