Just a few years ago I was an exercise addict. I pushed my body far beyond what it should have been pushed. I tracked every morsel that passed across my lips and I spent so much time worrying about my steps or my carbs. I basically was a prisoner of my own doing held hostage to food and movement.
And then I got hurt.
That was the greatest thing that could have happened to me. I did not realize this at the time, but I have come to know that when I broke free from all the consuming of data, I began to live again.
I began to live in the moments of pleasure and joy. I took in life in a way that had nothing to do with ‘how many’ of anything. Food became my friend again. I started to walk each day again for happiness and to get grounded, not how fast and how far I could go. I began to appreciate again.
I am currently sitting on a gorgeous adobe patio in the south part of Taos, off the busy hustle of galleries and restaurants, reflecting on just how much getting hurt has influenced my life for the better. My list could be endless of appreciation.
- Gardens are where joy begins
- Time away is one of the best ways to refuel
- Often what I teach is what I need to learn myself
- Sometimes falling apart is where the greatest rebuilding happens
- Honoring my body has been my greatest gift this last 18 months
- Love heals
- Faith over fear returns a bazillion times over
- The smallest of gestures add up to tremendous abundance
- Generosity from others reminds me that karma exists
Rather than wait to get injured I say to anyone willing to listen to breathe, eat, rest and mostly enjoy. At the end of your life is it really going to matter that you walked 17,000 steps every single day or that you ate more protein than carbs?
To me, it is really that simple.