Breathing

My breathe felt like silk by the end of yoga tonight. Like richness, like the softness of confectionary sugar. Bringing attention continually back to the breathe, to the in and out of the ocean inside, to the one companion that is always with me on my journey. My Monday night yoga ritual has really become a love, an event that starts my week off right and something I look forward to. I have noticed, ever since starting, that I am allowing myself to move a little slower in my day to day life, to take little more time with the seemingly mundane. To be more respectful of who I am and what makes me tick.

It is really hard to have new people start working at Dancers' Workshop. There is great comfort in being the old-timer, the one who knows the ins and outs, but there is also staleness and it takes more effort to get fired up over the tasks that seem second nature. I left work on Friday trying to see my job with fresh, innovative eyes, with imagination and curiosity and perseverance. And new employees can inspire that in you, as well as leave you feeling a little boring in your routines. A little repetitive in your actions.

It will be so good to get away, to stretch beyond the buttes of this little valley. To see new people. And hear different languages. And to have no familiar routines but rather the spontaneity of travel. I have a feeling that it is going to do me so much good, in my head and my heart and my soul.