Knowing I had to do something, I fell headlong into a yoga practice more out of desperation than anything else. I returned to the basics of faith and embraced prayer and meditation like it was my job. I hired a private yoga teacher, began chiropractic care and massage therapy. I replaced much of the caffeine I consume with decaf tea. And I learned to breathe again.
I simplified my home and my life.
I said "no". . . . . a lot.
I cancelled my gym membership and returned to the joy of walking and jogging and breathing fresh air.
And even though I felt better, it's hard to measure things like that.
The yoga, the quiet, the prayer, the Scripture, the meditation, the candles, the simplifying. . . . . was it helping?
Twice lately, once last week and once this morning, I've gotten some unsettling news. Nothing to worry about yet, but that never stopped me before. Situational things that are out of my control, but that's also never stopped me. The first thing I noticed both times was, involuntarily, I took a deep breath and immediately felt centered. I prayed. I trusted. I did not freak out.
I surprise myself sometimes.
Have I mastered the art of balance? Not hardly.
Have I learned to trust the Lord to the extent that my actions and reactions are exactly his? Uh, no. For sure not.
But, as one who lives for progress I can say, yes, it's helping.
And I'm thankful for that.