Quitter

I am a quitter.

Yes, I am.

I have quit a lot of times in my life. Some for the better, some for the worse.

I have quit smoking -- several times (I think this time it has taken hold for good -- fingers crossed).

I have quit drinking (not because of an abuse issue -- I simply have no more tolerance for it. One drink and the room is spinning.)

I quit college. Couldn't balance going to class and working 40 hours or more each week. 

I quit dating for a decade or so. I had better things to do than be continuously turned down or dumped.

I quit trying to advance at work. Actually I never really tried to advance. Just too much stress -- and the fact that I make as much or more when paid hourly as opposed to being on salary. 

I quit being lazy and start exercising more. Then I quit exercising because I'm tired and/or lazy. I quit junk food and start eating healthier, then I quit eating healthy because the junk is less expensive (or free in the break room fridge since the deli sends their day old subs and salads and sweets back for us).

You get the point. No matter what I am doing or attempting, I quit what I'm doing, and do the opposite, either because the effort is seemingly too much to give or because the expense is too great. 

Over and over and over again. The cycle spins ever onward. There seems to be no way to stop it. 

Yoga is one of the few things I haven't quit. That said, I am a quitter in the hot room as well. I fall out of poses and quit trying. I don't even attempt some poses. At the first twitch or pull or ache, I quit. When I know I have it in me to do the next pose, I quit and lay down -- or just leave the room. 

I quit quite a lot these days. I have regressed in many of the poses, so much so that I spend a lot of time staring down at my toes because I can't stand to see myself in the mirror.  Sometimes I wonder why I'm there at all. It would be simpler to stop practicing. It would be easier just to while away my spare time watching TV or surfing the net. It would be easier to get fat (fatter) and not give a damn. 

Yet, there I am, unrolling my mat, trying to stretch, and  standing up with the sound of the gong to begin class. Day after day. Evening after evening. 

Yoga is the place where I am trying to learn how not to quit. 

So far, so good. 

Peace. 

  

Under The Autumn Moon

I want to walk with you, hand in hand,

Under the autumn moon. 

I want to learn about you and how you came to be:

Were you an only child, were you one of two or three?

Were your parents there for you? Was there hostility?

Did you have friends who cared for you, or were you always lampooned?

What memories do you carry with you

Under the autumn moon?

I want to walk with you, arm in arm,

Under the autumn moon.

I want to learn more about you 

And how you came to be. 

Tell me how it felt

The first time your heart fluttered,

The first time you kissed someone,

The first "I love you" uttered. 

Did you give your heart of your own free will,

Or was it stolen away?

Was it treated well, then given back, 

Or was it crushed, broken, left to decay?

Does your heart still ache, or are you now immune?

Speak to me of your heart 

Under the autumn moon. 

Stay with me a little longer

Under the autumn moon. 

I want to share myself with you; 

Tell you how I came to be. 

I want you to know my hopes and fears, 

And the things that I've done wrong. 

Let me tell you of dreams undone

And my favorite dancing song. 

I'll tell you what stirs my soul

And sets my heart afire. 

I'll tell you how much I fear this life

And of the people I admire. 

So sit with me a little longer,

For the sun is rising soon.

Sit, and talk, and laugh with me

Under the autumn moon.