“Every moment waited is a moment wasted, and each wasted moment degrades your clarity of purpose.”
~ David Deida
I want to be perfect.
I want to write the perfect post, pose for the perfect picture and shoot the perfect video. I keep waiting for the moment to be right, only to discover that there is no right moment and then the moment passes, and I don’t do anything at all. Lather, rinse, repeat.
I wish I could do…
But I can’t. At least not yet.
But I can do…
I wish I could use words like “blossom,” “radiate” and “shine from your heart.” But I can’t. My dialogue is riddled with naughty words and misunderstood jokes.
I wish I could say that I do yoga every day and that my diet is kind and clean.
But I can’t. Sometimes I go a whole week without my own practice. Sometimes I drink. Sometimes I drink a lot, and sometimes when I drink a lot, I smoke, and then sometimes at the end of those nights of drinking and smoking, I eat a chicken burger from Mcdonald’s. I know, I know what you’re thinking: sounds like a great night. And it is. And it’s okay.
It’s all okay. Slowly I’m starting to accept my imperfections and just be me.
I’m not naturally flexible, but believe strongly in the concept of “faking it ’til you make it.” My hips and legs will open with time. I’ll get stronger and be able walk around on my hands for longer. But certain things just won’t fly. My back, my slightly spinabific back, will never let me bridge up with ease. My shoulders, which refuse to open, keep certain poses at a distance from me. King pigeon—my absolute favorite pose—is just out of the question. Again, this is okay.
But I need to constantly remind myself that this is all okay. That it’s okay to be where I am. I teach this; I write about this, but now I really need to “feel” it. Let go of all self-judgement and let imperfections prevail. Post imperfect pictures and really imperfect videos. Start to let it all hang out— right from my crooked teeth to my crooked toes.
I hope that this will help me to do more. Stop reading so much, and start writing. Stop browsing Facebook pages and start posting. Stop watching so many videos and actually do a little hot-doggin’ myself.
I don’t want to wait anymore.
We’ll see. I am imperfect after all and tend to change my mind more often than I change my underwear. My homeboy would say that that’s only because I don’t change my underwear all that often. Whatever. Inside out is clean right?
Editor: Brianna Bemel
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