A World of Possibilities in Everyday Ramblings

At some point in my 20’s I became a goal setter. Before that it was more a question of gliding and surviving and sometimes having fun. There was drifting from thing to thing and then finding my feet in the world of work.

I am discovering here in Covid-land tacked on to my abrupt retirement that I am no longer a goal setter.

My alarm on my iPad goes off at 6AM and has been for over a year and the deal is when it goes off, I get on the floor and do 10 traditional pushups. The alarm still goes off but after the fall backwards off the kitchen counter this week last year my whole relationship to pushing my body has changed.

A few days ago, I started doing the pushups again. It is no big deal. Carlo loves it, he thinks if I am on the floor it is an invitation to play. I didn’t set a goal; I had the habit in place and returned to it.

The same with weighing myself once a week and tracking what I eat. The habit was in place, I am returning to it after a break for the holidays that involved a lot of baking. My Imperfect box full of veggies has been coming all year every other week.

I write every morning in 750 Words. I returned to that when I retired. A few weeks ago, I got distracted because of a schedule change and even though I finished writing for the day I forgot to post it and lost my badge. It was a good practice in humility. I was annoyed but stuff happens and it sure as heck happened last year.

Last year on this day I was all exercised about coming home from the grocery on the bus having grabbed the “wrong” flavor box of protein bars. Little did I know that week’s later the fact of going to the grocery on my own and choosing anything would seem like both a risk-taking endeavor and a luxury.

It seems so quaint now, living in a country with 350,000 Covid deaths and so much sadness and difficulty.

I received my payment from the government on Friday and decided to splurge and order groceries for delivery an extra time for the week, picking up some staples like honey and dish soap. I am happy to give the work to these folks that shop and deliver for me, but it also makes me sad. The young man yesterday was overweight, breathing hard in his mask, coming up the few steps out front. I so appreciate what these delivery folks are doing for what really can’t be that much money.

On the weekends I have noticed that couples will tag team, the woman will shop, and the man will deliver.

This year other than following all the virus-related protocols, I am not setting any goals. The radical changes I have needed to make to keep teaching yoga have been plenty to keep me busy and out of trouble. And there is so much more to do in that arena.

This month I am switching to a pay per class model to a subscription model. I can offer my students a discounted rate doing this, and I feel good about that. I charge below market anyway, but I work hard at all the necessary adaptation to teaching online without props and I know the student’s value that.

Once I get everything set up the administrative workload will be significantly less.

But first I need to get there. I feel a true sense of accomplishment when I can record a class and look at the playback before I post it and to be okay with it. One of the absolute hardest things this last year about adapting is this getting used to seeing ourselves in little boxes.

It has been for me this…just deal with it thing… I may not like it (and I don’t) but my desire to share the practices and help folks find more ease in their movements in their daily lives overrides my discomfort in looking at myself.

In our weekly Teacher’s Zoom we call it “The Big Self” and “The Little Self”.

Finding myself forced by circumstances to spend more time in “The Big Self”, that place where we are all connected, care about each other and are kind, has been a remarkable gift in a year full of head spinning challenges, loss and unsettling news.

Who needs goals? Instead, I have habits and a world of possibilities.