Sunday is my favorite day of the week.
I have always loved Sundays. It’s not because of church, I don’t go. It’s not because I’m off work, I used to. It’s because the day calls to me. I wake up and I feel happy, even when I’m sad. The vibes of every sunrise and settling of every sunset cleanses my aura.
This semester was a little tough for me. I had a lot going on. I finished writing Phoenix (Yay!), I also finished revising Phoenix (Yay!). I’m also actively trying to find a new apartment, only 12 days left and still no luck! I had just started a new job at the beginning of the summer so I’ve been training for that. On top of everything, one of my professors was very rude. Let’s just say it wasn’t the smoothest semester.
That being said, I discovered some things about the city. I found out that they do yoga in the park every single Sunday. This same park has a farmer’s market with loads of fresh fruits, music, vendors and crafts. In all the time that I’ve lived here I had no idea about this. Farmer’s markets are my favorite. I’m a big fan of fresh produce, especially if it’s locally grown. It transformed my Sundays.
Now that I have, what I would consider, a stable office job, I don’t work on Sundays. My heart is so happy. Gone are the worries of the week. Gone are the rushes of homework. The only thing that is alive and well, on Sunday, is my soul. My soul loves yoga and all things meditation. It loves introspection and worry free analysis.
Yoga feeds my soul.
The instructor says “Set your intentions for your practice today. What are you trying to get out of your yoga session? What do you think will set your week off on the right path?” My answer, for the last 5 weeks, has been ‘peace’. I need peace. I’m a worrier. I freak out. It doesn’t have to be about something bad or something big. I worry about if I’ll finish reading a book in time. I worry if my food will be gross even though I’ve cooked a dish a million times. I worry about my guy on his way to work and I worry about him on his way home.
I just need peace. My mind is tired but always running. It’s filled with spiraling thoughts and battle scenes. Every Sunday I stumble over to yoga with mat, towel, water bottle and $5 in tow to get the peace that I need to survive.
Then I survive.