I have recently been having a mild to moderate bout of existential breakdown. Its symptoms have included moments of intense terror considering the future, followed by a panic of “WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE,” rounded out by a subtle yet steady mantra of, “It will be alright.” That’s when the doubt kicks in and says….maybe. Cue the intense terror.
But, at the beginning of my yoga class yesterday, our teacher asked us to set an intention. Intentions still don’t make much sense to me, even though I’ve read articles on them and talked to some of my teachers about the best way to set an intention. Whenever I hear that word, I think crazy thoughts like, “I intend to levitate,” or something equally impossible and hilarious (seriously though, that would be awesome). So I’m sitting there, mulling over an intention, trying to not giggle as I imagine myself slowly rising off the floor in half lotus, when I stumble over something in my brain.
I’ve been thinking a lot about freedom lately, and how important it is for me to feel freedom and flexibility to do my work. What work? Good fucking question, I don’t know the answer to that, and I’m still a little touchy about it. But anyway, it’s a thing. A thing I want. And as I was contemplating that, I realized that I don’t actually allow myself to have the freedom I claim to need.
I don’t allow myself the freedom to make mistakes. I don’t allow myself the freedom to try something new and hate it (at least not without feeling badly). I don’t allow myself the freedom of a break. In fact, I’m barely even giving myself the freedom to finish this post because I don’t think it’s good enough.
But that has to stop. Done is better than perfect and constant internal criticism of my choices and actions is paralyzing. I can’t keep constraining myself when I’m sure I could be more. So, even if I’m not doing it quite right, my intention will just be to allow myself the freedom to try. And once I master that, I’ll journey on to levitating.
Adventure on wayward travellers!