I closed and locked the door. I lowered the garage door and pulled out of the driveway. I drove to the gym where I locked the minivan and walked into the gym with just me and my thoughts. Locked away everything so I can unlock myself.
My feet pounded the tread mill and the music pulsed in my ears. My feet moved and my armed pumped and my breaths quickened. I knew that soon it would come; I waited for the flatline, the uninterrupted bliss of not thinking. My body and breath partnered–my arms, legs and exhales partnered in a guttural, syncopatic rhythm. Pump pump pump exhale. And then, a vast plane of nothing.
After I finished my run, I headed downstairs to the weight room. My creaky knees protested with each descending step. The black mat hit the floor. Thwop. I felt the tightness throughout each crevice and crannie of my body. I folded down into Downward Dog. I felt my pulse in my finger tips. I sat down, legs sprawled on the cushy mat and folded down, holding the stretch. Each muscle tightened and burned. Hello! my body seemed to say, Pay attention here. There’s a message here in this hamstring, over there in your side and right there between your shoulder blades.
I breathed and released into the stretch.
I considered the stories and thoughts buried within my muscles. I moved into Pigeon and I wondered about the events and stories that build and maintain those knots. What beliefs reign those pockets of tension, tightening them with white-knuckled force? The memories. The pain. The tension. The self-doubt. All locked within. My body acted as its own locksmith by providing panaceas of stretches and rudimentary keys of understanding with each exhale.
I stood. Calmer, more aware and grounded. I took the steps back up and continued unlocking. Pad locks, car doors, house doors. I walked back into it all.