I’m on here again. Writing every day takes effort. It would be so easy to skip today. I feel sad and tired. I woke up feeling panicked at 3 AM. Thinking about evil, anonymous poisoners is trying my trust in humans. Elvis is unwell. He’s 11 and in pain. We’re taking him to the vet tomorrow. I suspect cancer and have for about 2 years. He’s a dog of low pain tolerance and high anxiety. For this reason we opted no investigation or treatment for his lumps. So here I am second guessing myself when I don’t even know what is wrong. Olive is wary and weak.
Our assignment is to contemplate what is missing from our lives. I am missing energy and drive. Two years after a heart surgery and many exams and month long studies and this beta blocker I just feel robbed of vitality. I am tired. Yoga is hard work. Walking to yoga takes the same mental effort I used to use to run a marathon. Every week my clothes feel smaller. I can’t stop the weight gain. The double wammy, maybe triple wammy, of menopause, medication, and heart palpitations. I do what ‘they’ say to do and I wonder how much worse would it all be if I worked and didn’t have time to exercise and eat right and avoid stress.
Sometimes trying to hold a simple pose that I used to find easy I wonder if I will ever feel strong again. And I realize what a privilege it was to have had a strong body for so long. Boy do I miss it.