This was an aborted post from yesterday. I fell asleep before I could muster up the energy to hit publish. Rejoice, for I am in fact still alive! I am using my nose to hit publish because it's the only part of me that does not hurt. Right on.
10 hours of anything is ill advised. 10 hours of physical and emotional pain, however, is euphoric. Maybe not during or even technically after but let's say hypothetically it is because I may not be able to type tomorrow.
I have just endured 10 hours of pain. It's called a journey. I like to call it a painful journey as I am currently in pain in every crevice of my rock hard body. I sweated buckets. This is no exaggeration as I was in a room with 400 other people and I happened to be next to the heater.
I may in fact be dead right now. Wouldn't that be something?
So yes, you guessed correctly I was on a yoga retreat. A personal revolution as the brochure billed it. The dictator inside me was overthrown. Beaten into submission if you will.
The emotional part was not my bag. I do not like to share. This was an important lesson for me to learn. At one point we were asked to share with our neighbor. You know what? I'll pass. But in the spirit of being neighborly, I tried. My first words to my neighbor were: "I do not like to share." You can imagine it went pretty swimmingly after that.
Okay, that's about all I got in me. My fingers are starting to cramp up. My muscles may never relax. Which would be awesome!
Word to that.
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