transitory yoga

i've been in this place before.

in fact, if I really wanted to I could turn off the podcast and move forward from memory.

i've been in this downward dog, in this child's pose, in this pigeon more times than I care to remember.

and yet it still aches today, it still stretches and challenges my ever-tight hip muscles.

it is old and familiar, a tumbling flow of one motion moving into the next, a rapid waterfall of changing and reaching and starting all over again.

breathe, I remind myself.

i have been in this space before.

i've been in this transition, this crossroads of good-byes and hellos and how very nice to meet you-s.

i've been in this aching and longing, this necessary barrenness of starting over, of building from the nothingness of humility and the need to learn.

where's the supermarket?

how do I get to the office?

how will i be a part of a community?

have grace, I remind myself as I slide from high to low push-up, from one continent to another.

i've been here before, but it's still new in its own ways.

i've been here before, but I bear today's realities, which are different than yesterday's.

...right leg forward, turn the left foot, hands together, open into warrior two...

knowing doesn't always make it easier.

knowing doesn't take the stretching away, the pulling and balancing that show up each and every time.

unpack the boxes. cook familiar food. pray. run. develop routines. find groups.

i have to repeat this on the left side, I remind myself.

and so i lower myself down and do it again, because yoga is nothing if not an act of balance.