What I'm Noticing

Previously, I wrote about my yoga instructor's catch phrase: Notice what you notice.

I'm here now to tell you what I'm noticing.

The past seven days have flooded my body (literally) with anxiety. My cortisol levels have got to be just through the roof. My back has been locking up, my muscles are stiff, and my jaw is sore from unconsciously clenching my teeth.

There's a point to this, don't get super concerned.

Because of how much stress I was in, I decided on Sunday that I would go to 4 yoga sessions instead of my normal 2 per week.

Monday morning came, though, and I had stayed up late, so I chose sleep.
Tuesday morning came, though, and it was raining, so I chose sleep.
Wednesday morning came, though, and I chose sleep.

The past two nights, I've slept 10 hours each. It's not like I'm lacking sleep.

Notice what I notice.
Yesterday, our yoga instructor sent us a link to this article about the ten things the writer wishes people knew about yoga.

It's actually pretty good. The one that's sticking out to me this morning, is the point about how yoga is meant to be frustrating. I think it means physically, but shoot. It's mentally frustrating, too.
You think way too much about everything and about nothing and stupid things and oh my goodness I think my legs are going to rip out of their hip sockets.

But yoga is frustrating before you even get there.
Logically, I know that I really, really need to go. It would unknot my mind and body and align me for the day.
But I won't go.

Because even though I'm in pain and this is kind of masochistic, I'm choosing the known hurt over the unknown hurt.
Going to yoga is going to hurt really badly tomorrow not just because of my hurting body but because I've waited to do it. It'll also hurt because I've held off on thinking well, too.

Isn't that always the case?
Don't we so so often choose to harbor our sin or our pain or our anxiety because we understand it and know how to live within its constraints?
And later, after we have been forced to deal, don't we always wish we had taken ourselves on in stages instead of holding off until we're full underwater?