Exercise? I thought you said extra fries. Or was it extra reads?
Happy Friday, from where warrior poses clash with delicate art!
Picture this: Me, Olivia, your favorite purveyor of steamy romance tales, holding a Warrior Pose so fierce even the cat was avoiding me.
I’ve finally thrown my hat into the yoga ring, searching for that mythical balance between creating heart-fluttering moments (*AHEM* sitting on my ass all day while typing) and actually moving my body like a human.
Let’s face it, my muse and I needed some ‘us’ time.
There I am, YouTube video on play (Thanks, Yoga with Kasandra!), the air in my little yoga sanctuary thick with romantic tension (or is that me wheezing from being out of shape?)
Inhale love, exhale stress. I’m flowing like water, feeling like the goddess of tranquility, not a care in the world, my yoga mat unfurled like a red carpet to inner peace.
It’s as if the universe and I are sharing an inside joke, and for once, I’m in on it.
… and I gotta say, it’s about damn time.
I hear the high-pitched shatter of glass meeting floor. My arms are still suspended in a dramatic Tree Pose as I turn my head slowly to face the horror.
I have knocked over the beautiful glass vase my husband made the last time he was in the studio.
(Side Note: Have I mentioned that my husband is a glass artist? He’s a pretty cool guy. I think I’ll keep him)
My eyes bulge, my heart plummets, and there it lies—a kaleidoscope of splinters and lost hours.
My husband’s carefully crafted art piece, now a crime scene.
“You’re branching out from writing to interpretive dance, I see,” my husband teases as he ducks into the room to see what all the noise was.
“In my head, I was the prima ballerina of yoga,” I mumble, as I gingerly step over the glass shards.
“Well, you always were one to break the mold.” His smile wraps around me like a comforting blanket, making my heart do an odd little flip.
Note to self: Work that line into my next romance novel.
The moral of the story? When you’re seeking life’s balance, sometimes you gotta break a few priceless things along the way. And sometimes—just sometimes—that’s okay.
So, until we meet again, may your warrior poses be sturdy, your art pieces resilient, and your love stories never-ending.
Till next week, where hopefully the only thing I’m breaking is a sweat!
Yogically Yours & Taking Life One Crash at a Time,