"Practice and all is coming."

I haven't been in this practice of writing lately.  The usual excuses persist: 

"I just need to complete this project."

"Things are really stressful right now."

"I'm tired."

Avoiding whats good for us seems to be inherent in being human sometimes.  I wish I knew why.  My yoga practice has been a part of me so many years that shoulder stand feels more like breakfast or a shower - unquestionably necessary.  However this writing thing suffers all the difficulties of newbie practice:

"I don't know what to do."

"I'm not going to do it well."

"It hurts."

OK, well it doesn't actually hurt like the Ashtanga practiced of my twenties and early thirties, but I wouldn't say a writing practice is pain free.  Much like yoga once you get moving around it feels great, and after a few weeks of not practicing I feel a little foggy.  

The abundance this summer has offered up in these parts has included huge doses of loss, change, and begs some reinvention.  I stand on my mat and move around to check in with my body.  See how things are going.  I'm going to try to do the same here with my heart.