Never have T.S. Eliot's words resonated more with me.
April has been a long, trying month and I'm glad it's (almost) over. Hip adjustment. Nerve malfunction in my hand (four physio appointments later). Nasty head cold. Hormonal freak-outs. Creakier-than-normal joints. Wonky sleep patterns.
I feel about 107 years old this morning.
And because I've been beholden to the whims of my oft-uncooperative body this month, it means that I've barely been able to practice yoga.
Generally, yoga is my cure-all. No matter how stressful my day is, once I step on the mat, all is seen under a different light. Deeper breathing allows my reactions to soften, my compassion to balloon.
So going through a physically difficult period without my Number One Coping Tool has been a learning experience in itself, because I've had to summon compassion and softness all by myself. No shortcuts. No instant release. No crutch.
It hasn't been pretty, but fighting these waves of frustration has taught me a few things about how I've structured my support system in general. For example, my number one issue is asking for help. I'm terrible at asking for help. My parents trained me to be as self-sufficient as possible and from that, a fierce independence has developed over time.
There are people that I rely on for support, but it's only just occurred to me that I chose the wrong people - that they are rarely there for me when I need them.
Maybe I need to love those people for different reasons.
Maybe I need to choose other people to rely on.
Like I said, it's been a looong month. Here's hoping I make it through the last day without getting into any more trouble.