"Ceremony" Joy Division

Thoughts are those flashes between the synapses. It's the reaction between the chemicals, between the crap in my skull that defines me. That's a reductive conclusion; I've long suspected and now firmly believe that there is no difference between mind and body.

My camel pose was strained last night. I could not lift my hip as high as I normally do during rabbit and I could not manage the usually proud arc of my half-moon pose. Anxiety is stored in the mind, I once believed, but it slides down into the lower back, into the shoulders. Because I keep falling short of coping with the emotional counterpart, I dealt with the physical head on.

I was the last one out of the room, and if it weren't for the next class coming in, I could've stayed longer. The teacher took her shower then came back in. I said, "It's amazing how a tough week can really show up in your body."

"Don't worry about it Jose, you did great. Just don't be a stranger."

A professor once took me aside and talked to me. "It will never be easy, Jose, but it does get easier."

Wanting to solve all the problems is a noble goal, but one that may be too lofty to reach within one lifetime. I guess that's why we get several tries. In the meantime, I chip away at what I can.

And I'm fine now.