I have neglected my body since the big move. Slid into moldering slubbery. Fill up my days with mindless housework drudge, television, reading books and gazing blankly out the window. What I desperately need to work on is my head. Every time we move it takes me about 6 months to regroup. It’s as though the most important part of the nonphysical me is slowly, slowly trying to catch up. Maybe she’s lost, wouldn’t blame her if she was sitting a spell in a sunny landscape, putting off journeying to this cold clime.
So while my willpower, drive, motivation, and careful consideration are catching up to this lumbering form, my middle is turning into lumpy porridge, and I don’t care, my once rock solid thighs and bum are in rapid descent slipping down to my drooping knees, I simply don’t give a damn, the definition of my arm muscles thanks to years of vinyasa are vague and tired, and here there is a little pang for what once was- but how to begin again?
I need to work on my head space. I need to set aside the comparisons. I need to not fight living in Lithuania and embrace it. Even writing and acknowledging what is necessary for my mental health has me balking and wanting to back way up, back to bed. Maybe the renewal of life in the flora around me come spring will bring about a renewal of my spirits. This week the weather app says more snow. The hiding continues.
[Img.Src: Woman’s Portrait, 1852]