I’m moving today. So you all know how I feel. The culmination of many weeks of asking the universe what to do and listening to my heart. Wow, is that really how a yogi decides to move? This yogini anyway. I’m packing boxes, and organizing things, and realizing that there is much more to this than I thought.
It is very like me to underestimate how much energy a move will take. VERY like me. I have moved at least 30 times in my life. Usually by myself. I am not an elegant mover– I do not ask my friends to help me and put things in boxes and label them. I throw my clothes in industrial strength garbage bags and box up my kitchen and put my bathroom things in a shopping bag and stuff it in the back of my car. Which works for me and so it’s fine. I am not an elegant lady– my bra straps are always showing no matter how hard I try.
But that’s another story. Today I was humming along, doing my thing. Really flying through the move. And then I got to the kitchen.
I live my life in my kitchen. When I started pulling things out of cupboards and peeking into the fridge (really peeking, seeing what is actually up in there) I realized that I’m leaving this kitchen for the foreseeable future. That’s when the move really sank in. Now my momentum is gone and I might have a beer and stare out the window for a while.
Allowing my yoga into my move. Giving myself time to honour this kitchen and all the laughter and tasty meals I have enjoyed here. Being soft and gentle, and finding the energy to continue the move from my centre.