Wholesome torment

I got a surprise Fitbit for Christmas. It coincided with me signing up for an online yoga class membership, and together they have helped to reignite my love for Kundalini yoga.

There is something about Kundalini yoga that I just really, really like. Even before I had ever tried it, or really understood what it was, I felt in my bones this is my Yoga. Which is lucky, because it’s also exactly the type of yoga that I need. And it’s also hard as shit.

A long time ago, I burnt out in all the ways I can think of. And to recover from that, I basically had to stop trying. My threshold for giving up on something had to be really low, otherwise I’d fuck myself up. So I learned to live under that low threshold.

And that low threshold fucked me up in a whole different way.

It’s hard for me, now, to keep trying when something gets uncomfortable. I used to pride myself on my tolerance for pain and suffering; my ability to keep going regardless, consequences to myself be damned. That is no longer the case. Now, when I move into pain and suffering, a voice in my head whispers don’t be a sucker, it’s not worth it.

Kundalini yoga often involves repeating what seem like innocuous and perfectly managable physical movements over and over again until your limbs feel like they might be disintegrating and you can’t contain the whimpers of desperate agony.

If you’re lucky, you have a mantra to cling to to push out the thoughts of how difficult this is going to make parenting tomorrow, how it would be so much nicer to be doing literally anything else with your free time, how no-one has a fucking gun to your head, how you’re running out of time to clean the kitchen, how this was a really stupid idea and a waste of money, how the neighbours are probably wondering what the hell weird shit you’re doing down here. Because if you let those thoughts in, your world is a world of burning, bloody toil. So if you want to keep going, you keep those thoughts out, and you focus on getting through the moment.

It’s probably the closest I’ll ever get to David Goggins, and it’s good for me.

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