Today marks the one-year anniversary of my father’s death, and I’m completely at peace with it.
Over the years I’ve heard so many people talk about how a part of them died when they lost a loved one. Hearing this makes me sad. A part of me did not die when I lost my father; if anything, a part of me came bursting to life. Everything he’d ever instilled in me came to a head and, at that point, it was up to me to use it or lose it.
I chose to use it.
I did not die with my dad, and frankly, he would have been pissed if I had.
I finally got a new tattoo last week.
I say “finally” because I’ve been planning this thing (or, at least, planning to get this thing) for a couple of years.
However, I shouldn’t say “got a new tattoo” because it’s actually a cover up.
What’s it covering?
The same thing: a set of sunflowers.
If you’ve never seen anything like the woman to the left (or, been in her position), chances are you’re not familiar with restorative yoga.
Simply put, restorative yoga is a type of relaxing yoga that focuses on passive stretching and relies heavily on yoga props.
Yoga props, you say?
Remember when we talked about yoga pose modifications and how they apply to making life modifications?
Well, yoga props (like the bolsters you see under the lady’s knees) are great for making modifications to yoga poses, but they’re especially helpful for certain types of yoga, like restorative yoga.
Restorative yoga just loves props.
For some of us, it’s hard to get out of bed on these cold, dreary winter days…
…much less get out of the house!
Still, we have to take time to nourish our bodies and minds, weather (pun intended — I’m here all night!) the sun’s shining, the clouds are bursting, or — in most of the east coast’s case lately — snow is swirling all around us.
Because so many of us are used to nourishing our minds and bodies outdoors (walking our dogs, heading to the yoga studio, meditation walks in the park), taking care of our minds and bodies indoors might seem challenging.
This post is part of Your Body, Your Mind’s “Monthly Meditation” series, designed to provide readers with an idea or thought to meditate on during the month.
Remember when I said not everyone likes December?
Well, not everyone likes January, either. For many of us, it’s cold, dreary, and just plain BLAH.
However, for even more of us, January represents new beginnings and, depending on who you are, that’s either a GOOD or BAD thing.
Last year, I talked about New Year’s resolutions and how changing your lifestyle is a process and not something you accomplish by January 3.
This year, I’d rather focus on intentions–more specifically, mantras.
Some of you might remember Your Body, Your Mind went on hiatus near the beginning of 2013 and remained in radio silence until September.
During that time, we had a chance to flesh out some visions for the blog, and although we’ve only been live again for a few months, some of those visions seem to have given you some insight–or allowed you to offer us YOUR insight–too!
Greetings last minute holiday shoppers!
Well, I can only assume you’re shopping last minute, if you’re reading this post today
Don’t worry, I’ve put a few things off ’til the last minute, too.
(It’s been a rough season, to say the least.)
Fortunately, I’ve had time to come up with this list of mind and body gift ideas for your loved ones…
…or maybe for yourself!
(After all, who says you can’t treat yourself this season, too?)
Some of you might remember I lost my father to cancer a few weeks ago. Since then, I’ve lost my grandmother–his mother–too.
As you can imagine, so much loss, so quickly, has taken a toll on my emotional and mental health; in turn, it’s taken a toll on my physical health. My diet has gone to CRAP (hello emotional eating!) and finding the motivation to do any sort of physical activity–even restorative yoga!–is incredibly difficult.
My Dad died two weeks ago today.
That sounds pretty blunt, doesn’t it?
My dad died. My dad died. My dad died.
I kind of have to keep saying it like that to make it real.
During his illness and the days immediately following his death, I expected and have handled most of the five stages of loss and grief (except for anger; I’m not dealing all that well with anger); however, what I didn’t expect was how caring for Dad and then dealing with his death would affect me physically.
I mean, sure, I expected the sleeplessness and fatigue during the last few weeks of his life (caring for someone ’round the clock while juggling work is exhausting, to say the least), but some of the other physical symptoms — especially the ones that came after his death — took me by surprise.