Monday night at yoga, the instructor had us practice with our eyes closed so that we could get a sense of how our bodies feel in space. He said that not looking in the mirror causes us to use more and different muscles. He’s always interested in putting a fresh spin on things, which is great.
I came home to a very very sunburned Sophie. She’d returned earlier from her trip to the beach with a friend a little pink, but after a few hours had passed, she was alarmingly red in the places where the sunblock wore off. Poor girl. She came to me that night, sobbing with her face in her hands. I thought it hurt, but she was afraid. Afraid that her face was going to peel off. The entire thing. She thought that was what everyone meant when they told her that her face would peel. I still don’t know if I was successful in convincing her otherwise.
Today she has blisters all over her nose, which I DID NOT point out to her.
Tuesday night at yoga, with the same teacher, we took a long savasana that included an optional sing-along to Bob Marley — don’t worry, bout a thing, cause every little thing, is gonna be alright — I didn’t sing at first, mainly because I was too tired from the class (power yoga? kicked.my.ass). But, then I did start singing along with the other 35 or so people in there and I found it was impossible not to smile and feel really good. The thing is, every little thing is NOT going to be alright and we all know it isn’t. (Stay with me here) There are lots of great things about being on this planet, but there are also lots of hard, scary, horrible, sad, rotten, wrong, and maddening things, too, and if your world is A-OK, look around and you’ll see that isn’t the case for so many people. Why is it, then, that saying that out loud, Every Thing Is Okay, makes me feel better? Parents say it to soothe their kids, we say it to ourselves when we’re nervous or scared. Sometimes when we are the ones who need the soothing, we need to hear those words as much as we need water and food. Even if we know they aren’t quite accurate.
Is it that hearing and saying those words changes our attitude, which is a powerful force? Does a little reassurance make us feel that much better because it gives us permission to stop worrying? Is it the realization, on some level, that even the hard parts of life are necessary, and that while things won’t all be alright, they sort of will be in some ways. Eventually. In ways that matter. Which we may never figure out. Maybe.
I’m really sleepy. Too sleepy to make any sense at all. But, you know, it’s okay, because I’m going to sleep in a little tomorrow and make something really good for breakfast. Hmmmm, maybe the song is about the little things, those can still be good — great, even — despite the state of the big picture. And, right now, my big picture looks good, too, and that makes the little things even brighter.