Genevieve is cruising along now. She waddled across the entire living room with her walker a bunch of times. Her toes are curling under less; she’s learning to trust her feet’s ability to support her.
I worked at trusting my legs’ strength to support me at a yoga class this afternoon. My muscles were quivering, sweat was dripping down my chest and I briefly doubted whether I’d make it through without passing out. The final relaxation was such a relief at the end—with the cool breeze from the ceiling fans wafting over my tired body.
Genevieve is learning to find her balance and so am I. We learn when we’re young and then we need to keep relearning, or perhaps “discovering” is a better word. She’s discovering the world for the first time. I’m discovering the world and myself for the umpteenth time.
That’s the beauty of yoga. It gives me the opportunity to begin again at anytime.