I had just finished a "satisfactory" (according to my standards) review of Slumdog Millionaire for my film criticism unit. It took me around 2 hours to fashion 4 paragraphs worth of inspired writing to finish this assignment. Not that I'm counting, but lately the obvious lack of chill time has been gnawing at me. It's one thing when you know you're expending your efforts into something worthwhile, but it's also another to actually realize that you have no time left to bullshit and lollygag.
During those moments of personal epiphany, I wish I had the luxury of just curling up into a ball and throwing my favorite blanket over me. I really wish I had 48 hours to wallow in my state of non-ado. But, alas. Yo no tengo mucha suerte ahora.
The brighter side of the picture is that I've learned to just let things go. What else can I do, right? Let the demands of the day crash into me like a 20 foot tidal wave. I'll somehow manage to swim.
And for those times when I feel absolutely depleted, when I can no longer understand myself and all the jibber-jabber lying around in my head starts to come alive to incessantly annoy me, at least I can still hit the mat and do vinyasa.
Yes, yoga will save the world eventually.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment