“So I jumped back into where I learned to swim, tried to keep my head above it the best I can.” ~ The Sound of Sunshine, Michael Franti & Spearhead

I’ve started to swim.  

The neighborhood pool is just up the street. It’s right where it’s always been, but I’ve only recently begun to swim. Up until now, I’ve generally steered clear of the pool, mostly because I was never one who was much for the sun. Its kisses always covered me with too many freckles, and its hugs were often so hot they left me with headaches. So, typically, I’ve spent my summers from the inside out, drawing the shades and blasting the air and counting the days until fall.   

But something happened once I started to practice yoga. When the warm weather hit, I suddenly stopped counting the days! It seemed the more I practiced, the more I craved fresh air, and if it were hot outside, I no longer cared. I have no idea how this came to be. Maybe it had something to do with all the breathing we were doing at yoga. I thought perhaps the practice was airing me out, because for the first time in a long time I seemed to be breathing in new life. At home, I started to open the windows and sit on my porches again. I started walking in the neighborhood, and sometimes, if I felt like it, I’d even turn my face to the sun!