I have a tendency to be a bit of a fortune teller. Not a cool-tarot-card-gypsy-living-crystal-reading-fortune teller, but rather an oh-shit-get-your-armor-on-kind-of-fortune teller. I predict based on past experience that A will lead to B. Why?
Because I passed junior high math class. Someone actually taught me how to predict.
Because I've mixed yellow and blue. It's always green.
Because I've tried to shovel the car out of 4 feet of snow. And failed. Hard.
Because I've kicked up too hard into handstand. And flown threw the unlatched bedroom door. Ow.
I struggle with fortune telling. It's not that I think I know better. It has absolutely nothing to do with pride. It has everything to do with protection.
And so, when not long ago, a dear one said to me: This is not that. I stopped and took a beat. Handstands are one thing. There is always a chance, when and if you don't check the bedroom door AND you poorly time your momentum, that you'll flip over and through and onto the hard floor. It's reasonable to say, A implies a possibility of B. But what about savasana. Here, the risk doesn't seem as clear. It's unlikely the floor will give way or a lighting fixture will fall from the sky, but for lots of people, myself included- savasana is HARD. (H.A.R.D.) Relaxing means x. Relaxing means y. Relaxing means z. Most of the time, I'm not conscious of my fortune telling savasanas. I'm not trying to be anxious or rigid. I'd quite love the floor to hold me up. Instead, I'm vigilant and prepared, in case A leads to B. This is not that. This savasana is not a moment for the floor to sneak out from under me. This savasana is not the moment a lighting fixture will spontaneously jump off the ceiling. This savasana is not about holding still. Or resisting the urge to fidget. Or anything I've done before. It's THIS one. This is not that. So my challenge this week (and yours if you choose to accept it) is to let this...be this. Something new. Something unpredicted. Something with a shot at feeling light and free. Kick up to handstand. You may hit the door. You may fly through...but you may catch some hang time and feel just a moment of levity. And let savasana be its own beast. Find stillness on your belly or bring your hands to your heart. You may startle. You may jump...but you may find some peace and feel a moment of resting grace.
This is not that. It's this. It's now.