Upside Down

Nothing brings me back to earth like a good old fashioned handstand. It might help if I explained that I spent my childhood as a competitive gymnast. Ironically, it was learning to flip head over heels that grounded me in the first place. Yet that was long, long ago in a time that my 41 year old self rarely recalls. Lifetimes have passed since and another is starting. How many versions of me might I cram into one? I'm losing track. My friends, on the other hand, testify that I'm ever the same. 

But me... I'm topsy turvy. My balancing act feels anything but graceful. Fortunately, part of learning how to fly is learning how to crash. I know there is a calm, composed, expert navigator in there somewhere who takes over in case of emergency. Let's just say that I became quite familiar with her on a number of difficult landings. Not sure exactly where she is hanging out at the moment though. I haven't had time to look for her in the tumult of creation. 

I came home angry. I came home frustrated. I came home worried, stressed, irritated. I scrapped my to do list I was so over it. That's a sure sign of revolt! I begrudgingly moved through tai chi. In desperation I threw in some sun salutations. The inversion felt good, so I followed with a headstand. Ah... some relief from my head! 

Wanting more I instinctively lunged for a handstand and up I went. Effortlessly. Naturally. Every muscle knew exactly what to do. I didn't even have to think about it. As my body extended, strained, and adjusted, it did so on its own- the result of countless hours of training oh so many years ago. Then it hit me. This is me. This is the same me that has always been me here in this body. Nothing is forgotten. Nothing is lost. I'm in tact. I'm grounded. I feel a profound sense of here. I understand that there is no end to this. 

-Shelly