It’s 8 a.m. and I’m sitting here on my couch, half dressed, not wanting to go to work. I blame yoga! Or more precisely, I blame the 6 a.m. yoga session I just came from.
I’m so relaxed — so in “the now” — that I can’t be bothered with “the next.” Not even the article of clothing I’m supposed to put on next, much less being at work by 9 a.m. so I can be prepared for my next appointment.
I’m usually such an always on-time, motivated, carefully coiffed individual, but at this very moment I seem snugly, not at all unhappily, stuck on my sofa, a still point in time, sort of set in permanent “pause” mode, midway between:
Shedding my sweatshirt and yoga pants, taking a shower, blowing out my hair, applying my face, pulling on a brand new pair of matte black Wolford tights and fresh white Anne Fontaine blouse (my typical weekday “uniform”)….
And the rest of my, yet-to-be-completed, morning routine of agonizing over the exactly right skirt and jacket, pumps and jewelry, making sure my cellphone’s charged and all the papers I need are in my briefcase…etc.etc.
Instead, as if paralyzed, frozen in place, I curl my legs up under the rest of me on the sofa, lazily start to button my blouse but pause, seemingly forever, and gaze out the window as the snowflakes fall…..