It’s tempting to measure, to assign a number on a scale, to compare and contrast.
On a scale of one to ten, say, how was this year? Overall, better than average, perhaps a seven. In some specific areas, the scale hovers at six, in others it reaches an eight with flashes of nine. Compared to former, low-dipping years, years when I lost a job or a when man I cared for developed cancer, or when my mother died, it’s been a good year.
This coming year I aim higher. Slight improvements will be just fine. Maybe accepting that the scale slides is good enough. Life is constant adjustment. It is rarely the same in all areas. We can do well in one segment: lose weight or win a contest, but not so well in another: develop an allergy to a food or a person.
I think that is why I love yoga so much. It reminds me of that. It keeps me grounded and balanced and yet still reaching farther and higher. And it doesn’t force me on days when I feel tired or insecure. I can rest and move gently, honoring myself.
To tell you the truth, I am tired of measurements, especially those imposed from the outside. As I watch people strap little instruments to themselves to measure footsteps and calories, I realize I don’t want to do that anymore. I’m not being critical. These measures work and have worked for me in the past.
I’m just being realistic about where I am. No more boot camp of the soul! I like gradual changes that grow from within, one step at a time, one day at a time. And even the realization that I am fine where I am and don’t need to change.
Happy Old and New Year!