“Never tell the truth to people who are not worthy of it.”
Day 24 – When our spine lengthens, our heart opens. It is amazing. Cultivating a lengthened spine, open heart, and being true in mind and deed, we become openhearted. Rolf describs this “mature capacity for such openheartedness as the “mountain heart,” which is “at once grounding, focusing, inspiring, and softening” and “literally arrests the movement of the mind. In turn, mountain heart, relays Rolf, “delivers the felt experience of wholeheartedness” and this rekindles our “desire to live, love and learn from the heart.”
Little signs of imbalance are creeping in everywhere. I can see it in my glucose/ketone meter three times a day, I can feel it in my cravings for snacks, I can predict it by my sleeping habits, my workout productivity–my row was so slow and I was giving it my all, by my shaky hands, my upset stomach, and my irritability. Last night, I couldn’t remember left from right–I was visually having problems processing while dancing. Dance vocabulary that is automatic and fluid got muddled up. Work is challenging right now and not fun. My mind screams: “Go to crossfit and lift.” My body says, “Hey, girl, you’ve been here before. Slow down. Walk, don’t run.” My ego pipes in: “You need to workout. You’re getting fatter.” I am worthy of listening to my truth. I am worthy of receiving my own wisdom, but when the mind starts wandering and the body can respond to anything you throw at it physically (and have been for 50 years), it is time to find my mountain heart.
This morning I wanted to dance or crossfit or run, but my body just hasn’t been awake to move these past two days, so I settled into a tadasana kriya vinyasa (for and by a dancer). Letting go of pretense and reminding myself of my truth on my mat reminded me once again of why I get up and practice every morning. I think my impatience with myself is purely out of habit. This is what you think will be good for you so you do it (as you always have). I’ve certainly got some things to work out. I feel agitated about work, and yet, I am deeply compelled to embark on another learning adventure. I feel a bit jaded and yet, I am deeply drawn to improving my teaching. I feel tired and yet, I am deeply committed to moving. Such a paradox.