We thought it would be a good idea to do something with our bodies that encourages strength and mental relaxation. Toby ran past a lovely yoga centre close to our home, so we set the alarm for 7.30am (on a Saturday, I know), and were in the studio forty minutes later.
The style was Iyengar yoga, which I was assured by a yogi friend, was restorative. It felt good to stretch and balance, and let some calm run through our bodies. It was also nice to be there together. To know you are starting something on the same (wobbly) footing, it helps you feel less alone. Starting new things has become a bit of a regular occurrence since Bear died.
Everything, in a sense, feels new when you have to do it under the black cloud of loss. Even getting up in the morning is different to how it was before. Now we wake and think about him, and us, and this darn annoying and painful new land onto which we've been dropped. We are survivors of some terrible mid-flight crash that has of left us stranded on a small island surrounded by shark-ridden waters.
Anyway, the yoga did us good. Afterwards, as we ate eggs and drank good cappuccinos, we felt rested and stretched.
Then we got home. And I felt all stressed again and wound up like a messy bobbin. There are so many obstacles along the way that send me loopy and make me grit me teeth together. It is a very un-yogic state indeed. Hopefully, over time, I'll learn to transfer the calm from the mat on the floor back to my everyday life.