I feel out of sorts and tail-spin-y lately. My head is cluttered and no tricks I’ve tried in the past are working to clear the mental tragedy of being me right now.

Maybe it’s the weather.

I was so certain this year was going to be a continuation of the good vibe I had going the latter part of 2014. I was all set to Savor the moments. To listen for the invitation to worry less.

But I’m frustrated instead. I spent the better part of the last 10 days in excruciating pain. I don’t know what I did but my back let me know it wasn’t going to work.

Maybe instead of Savoring, this year is all about Surrendering. I keep running into the wall of “TRY HARDER” and the funny thing is – I’ll never break through that wall. It’s a never ending chant to keep running, do more, be more.

I’m not afraid to work for what I want, or to work at all. It’s the silver-lining of why I’m doing it.

The past week of being incapable of comfort in movement had me completely angry at my body. For so many reasons, but the main one being that this whole “injury” was a huge idiot. What a crock. I’ve been showing up, I’ve been making healthy changes, I’ve been accepting my illnesses and treating myself in a way that would cater to the health and longevity of my life and THIS. This is what she does? She lays me down, immovable, and steals my progress for her practice.

In a casual conversation this week my mom laughed at her own stubbornness. That woman is iron … I must get it from her. Because I look at her and see the stubborn streak but I look at myself and I see the rage.

And all the tears staining my floors this week are proof that this pain is just the fear leaving my body. Because you can take my body from me, you already have, and you can take my progress, you’re trying so hard … but you cannot have my breath. You cannot have my fire.

I’m not done yet.