Yesterday was one of those days when everything just WENT: I got a lot of good work done; I ticked chores off my list much more easily and quickly than anticipated; I even shaved my legs (in January. WHAT?)–not for the husband, not for the yoga class, not for a massage! Just because it needed to be done and things were already ROLLING. I even remembered to drizzle a little peppermint oil in the bottom of the recycling container after I emptied it. (I’m certainly no Martha Stewart, but I was kind of proud of that last one.)
Then it was today, and “things” decided rather abruptly not to go. It is gray and drizzly and cold out there (duh, JANUARY), and it has seeped into my very cells. We’ve been fed, the animals have been fed; I even did the breakfast dishes!
But I don’t. Wanna. I had big (?) plans to make cookies today, and now, meh. I need to shower and wash my hair so that I can pass for a functioning human being tomorrow, and I’m mentally fighting it like a little kid. The sheets need changing, too… maybe tomorrow.
As a person who has a long history with depression, this isn’t it. I can tell. I know that grim-faced bitch like the back of my hand and she ain’t here. Maybe it’s hibernation behavior, maybe it’s laziness, maybe it’s just a raw Sunday that needs to be spent under a blanket with at least one snoozing dog leaning up against you. Maybe it’s just a mature (ha!) attitude of “Eh, I’ll get ’em tomorrow.” Whatever it is, I’m grateful that I know that today doesn’t have to look just like yesterday.
This is one terrific lesson I learned from yoga. Some days, I show up strong and energized and balanced; others I fall constantly, sometimes literally on my face. Often, what I can manage with my right side is a far-off dream for my left side. I know I’m in good shape, mentally, when I can just accept this and say, “Well, sir. That’s not going to happen today because my left hamstring feels like a Slim Jim. No big whoop.” I’m not paying attention to what’s happening on the mats around me because what matters is happening on my mat, right now–not what happened yesterday or last week.
Slowly, very slowly, I’m becoming quite good at not comparing myself to others, or, even more powerfully, to other “versions” of myself.
Theodore Roosevelt said, “Comparison is the thief of joy.” I freaking love that guy. And in that spirit, I’m not comparing today’s lazy, spacey, kinda funked out sloth-me to yesterday’s energized, obsessive-compulsive, achievement-junkie-me. Today, I’m just going to lovingly let them both be.
C’mon, give it a try. Don’t you want Teddy to be happy?