When your yoga mat is a prison cell

My yoga mat was my prison cell today. As soon as the teacher began to ask us to follow her lead in pranyama- I wanted out. Out of the room, out of the studio, out of my life. I knew if I walked out the door, it would shatter the mood of the classroom. Create a drama. Be bad form. So I stayed. I stayed and I observed myself struggling and resisting. I was the animal in the cage. Wild and frenzied and alone. At the end of practice, I meditated. Life is telling me to surrender. I want to. I just don't know how. I don't know what I need. I don't know.

Writing group was today. It was a much needed diversion.

This is what I wrote. The prompt was "dirty mugs" A wierd prompt that probably originated because there is a sign in the community room that says "dirty mugs" for people to put their used mugs after tea.

"Dirty Mugs"

Dirty mugs, slimy mugs, mugs with the remnants of my coffee. Mugs with gum wrappers embedded in sticky substances. Dirty mugs adorning my car dashboard, my coffee table, my kitchen counter and my fireplace mantle which burns brightly and scortches my cat's whiskers-only at the ends.

My cat lifts her head in defiance. The ends of her whiskers glow bright orange. A cigarette ember drops down turning into ash. Just as my mother did. Her death too soon like this day-too warm for winter. Smells and feels and sounds like spring. Snow is melting and dying. Spring is still months away.

I am waiting for a rebirth. Birth myself out of this shit I wallow in. Out of complacency, anger and self loathing that turns my skin to grey, my thoughts to stale bread, and my eyes to ginger.

Dirty mugs litter my house. This clutter must stay around me. Keep me from clarity for when I am clear I must ramble. I must show myself. Naked and vulnerable. Flesh that can be pierced and prodded. Holes that can leak onto the floor. Their substance unidentifiable. I have come to the edge and there I stood and looked down. And there I stood and looked down.

It was my own reflection that looked back at me and she closed her eyes. She was too tired to stay awake.

Dirty mugs comfort me when I am tired. I feel like I have finally fallen.