“”Where are you?” my PIlates instructor scolded on Wednesday as he observed my hips rising and falling from across the room. “You are not concentrating on the movement.” My mind was elsewhere; tangled in a mess of fears and lists and wants and obligations and pain and disappointment and frustration and needs and an unwanted suffocating helplessness.
His voice bought me back to the room. My hips still rising and falling–slowly–as if on autopilot.
“I have to concentrate on the movement?”
“Yes, my dear. All your focus should be on what your body is doing.”
“But, I’m tired.” I whined. “My shoulders hurt. My back hurts.”
He did not even blink before barking,
“Let’s strengthen those areas then.”
“Erm. OK.”
“Try this. Stand up straight.” His hands pushed my lower back upwards and forwards. “Suck in your stomach. Breathe. Let your arms carry the weight.”
“Like this?”
“Exactly. Now give me ten more.”
“Ten more? But, it’s too heavy.”
“Focus. Share the weight.* Breathe. You can do this.”
And I did.
And I will.
(*Thank you so much, all of you, for your awesome words.)
