I'm having one of those lost-in-the-wilderness days.
you know the kind, where you can't see the trees for the forest: there's just one great big gob of LIFE out there, one big ball made of 5000 rubber bands, one big overwhelming THING that I can't make enough sense out of.
I can't see any individual trees today; they are all blurring into a vast hillside of green.
the good news is this: I love green. I haven't given up hope, and that huge, overwhelming forest is at least made up of a color I find pleasing.
it just happens to be blurry, indistinct, fuzzy around the edges and, well, all across its expanse.
I think I'm spiraling. I've been here before. I've been in this place of vagueness, of blurred lines, of feeling as if I'm moving through life blindfolded with my hands stretched out before me seeking bark and limbs and leaves and encountering nothing but space, empty space.
in yoga this morning the instructor asked us to set the intention of lifting our hearts up, skyward, with each inhale, and of rooting down solidly and firmly with each exhale.
since I can't seem to orient myself horizontally---can't feel or smell or even see those trees---perhaps I am supposed to simply focus on my vertical alignment today. perhaps today I am to simply be a human, rooted in what is, lifting toward what frees us, fuels us, keeps us centered, that belief in a higher being.
the trees are there, I'm certain. some have been carved with my initials, maybe even lifetimes ago. I'll eventually find them, embrace them (tree hugger that I am), and move between them, moving even more deeply into the place I am meant to be.
someday, just not today.