Spring is here. In Colorado it means that there is a 75% chance for another brutal snow storm and a 100 % chance that rains and tearing winds will shake the sky open. I love the absurdity of it all. I love the change in the earth as it moves to its being-ness. I love the way the world wakes up and brings me with it into warm days and soft nights. I love the mythology that surrounds the coming of spring – The Easter bunny, sublimated goddess traditions and the Persephone myth. I love the term “vernal” it sounds so full of life blood and rebirth.
I know that when winter lets go – so does some of my melancholy. Call it SAD or what not. I’ve always thought that I must be exothermic and gather my life force from warm surroundings …that I go fallow when the cold comes and moves into the meaty parts of me. Perhaps it’s that I can move out of doors without layers. I love running outside. I love the tattoo of my footfall on soft earth and the feeling of sweat drying across my back and face as I go as far as I can. I have always found comfort in moving my body – using it to the best of its ability and pulling this energy inward to fuel the parts of myself that falter in the face of a new day. It’s like I tap my endorphins to keep the gears running smoothly.
A dopamine lube job.
The Grand Chu, he tells me that I am the fittest person he knows and that I am also totally oblivious to it. Being unaware is an affectation. Exercise is a necessary aspect of my life just as asana practice and meditation are necessary. I have grown so used to being active that living in any other way seems…odd. Slave driver has been used to describe how I hit it at the gym or a trail and expect others to keep up.
I mention this not because I want to tout how great I am at embodying athleticism – I mention it because I have been exploring what normal looks like for myself and others and despite the popular idea that there is a certain sort of normal that should exist…there isn’t. I tend not to speak in absolutes but I will with this one because I believe in its truth:
Asking the soul to Normalize is like living with blinders on and this can only hurt you as well as others.
My love of spring and the work outdoors that comes with it – that’s my normal. A normal that counterbalances a deeply morose normal that travels on the back of winter into my life. My best friend, his normal touches artistic, musical and philosophical genius daily. It also touches other darker things on a daily basis. This is his normal. Sit down with a group of people and you’ll realize the only “normalizing” factor in your conversation about normal is how different everyone is in their perception of what the term means.
I read this recently:
Here is my challenge for you today: take a picture of your face and remember that in ten years’ time you will be amazed at how gorgeous you were and it makes the most sense to be amazed now instead of waiting to see it.
Pretty introspective sentence eh?
Instead of taking a picture of your face – write homage to who you are in this moment. Think about what makes you…you. Consider all your parts and capture that. Lay back and think about what embarrasses you most about who you are, the things you think you hate and the things you bury. Dig into those places and embrace them. Love them. Know that they are a part of your normal in this instance and could stay for the rest of your life. Be okay sitting with that reality.
Those things make you beautiful, wonderful you.
I go through these phases where I forget. I wake up and hate my ass, my belly or my ever cycling brain. My down dog isn’t down enough or my hips aren’t rotating enough in vira I. I forget that having a body and breath is amazing. That being able to watch the cycle of the earth through the seasons and feel my moods shift with them is a goddamned blessing. That asana practice is freeing and I shouldn’t get too caught up in the practice of it without allowing for it to open me as I know that it can. I have found that if I run, or I hit the gym I remember…that is what I use my body for and fuck all that other stuff. I’m strong and this is my normal.
Strength in body mind and spirit.
Take stock friends. Take stock of your normal, beautiful body and mind and love it. You are exactly who you are supposed to be on this spinning rock in the depths of space amid other spinning galaxies. DeGrasse Tyson tells us that you are made of stars and space dust. How
can that be a bad thing?
How can a heart filled with star dust be anything but perfect and good?
Happy spring and even happier searching for an acceptance of your normal. As a final note – remember that normal isn’t a swear word. Those people we think are extraordinary? That’s just their version of normal.