Look at this.
She found her chi. And she's only six.
Full lotus. And she's happy about it. I'm 41 and I am still trying. With my six-year-old's help I pulled, torqued, twisted, and turned my lower half until I too became a pretzel. I asked Jane to take my picture in case it's the only time I ever did it. Here's what she got...
For God's sake. My hair doesn't even look good. I was so irritated I made her stay in Full Lotus until...
She reached victory. Or pain. (Just kidding. I didn't make her do it at all.) I was, however, so excited you'd have thought she got very early admission to Harvard. It occurred to me though that victory and pain are symbiotic. One rarely exists without the other. And through it all we must be playful. Like a 6-year-old. She inspires me, impresses me and keeps me pressing forward. (For the record, all 3 of my children do.)
We all have that thing that keeps us taking another step. If we are lucky we are aware of it all the time. Like running a marathon. Why in the hell do we run 26.2 miles through pain and injuries for the sweet nanosecond of crossing the finish line? Why did contort my body for the millisecond I reached Full Lotus?
Not to SAY, I did. But to KNOW I did. I can and will do it again, God willing. Run another race. Connect with my chi. Twist. Again and again. Because I CAN. Victory awaits. But not without a little pain.
What makes you come back to your race?