I sit here typing this blog in the early morning hours of the final day in 2017; thank God––I’m not one to be so negative––therein lies the problem.
In blatant disrespect of my yoga-Zen-Faith–seek-the-light-stay-positive-and-persevere general disposition, I spent most of 2017 confronting the Dark Force inside me, similar to the NEW Natalie Portman in the latest installment of the “Star Wars” franchise.
Then, I spent last evening in a yoga sound bath––yes, you heard me––*yoga sound bath, when it dawned on me that I’ve spent the past six months morning the death of my thirties.
I never thought I was that “guy” who cared about “age”, and (mostly) I’m not. Then it occurred to me that I went through a similar transition when I turned 29, which makes sense. Until we’re several decades in, I suppose we don’t really contemplate how quickly they seem to go.
When I turned 39––six months into a year that started with Trump––a small part of me checked out. I let myself give into negative thoughts and lost touch with my inner passion, spirit, and drive.
My thirties were magical, but my twenties were brilliant, too, which is why I have no doubt that my forties will be spectacular.
As the final vibration of bubbly sound poured over my wider-than-usual shavasana, I concluded that my subconscious mourning period should end with 2017. I have the power to replace every negative thought with a positive action; it has worked my entire life and subsequently attracted exceptional people and wild adventures.
*You’re dying to know what a yoga sound bath is, aren’t you? It’s a **yin-yoga meditation and stretch class with live music dripping all around you.
**You’re going to have to Google this one.
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