Feeling good

I awoke this morning feeling…good. Deep-down, to-the-core, easy-breathing, clear-headed, for-no-particular-reason good. And, instead of rushing out of bed as I usually do, I lay quietly for maybe as long as five minutes. Which is a very long time when you are motionless in an inky black room at 5:45 in the morning, and you know you’ll have to hoof it to make it on time to the pre-dawn Barre3 class to which you are (happily) addicted.But I stayed put. I was, for some reason, struck by how good I felt. It wasn‘t the endorphin-high good of an intense work-out or the I-just-accomplished-something good of a self-esteem high or the warm body rush of a great-hug high. It was a quiet, solid, embodied good. Emphasis on the embodied. As in: in the body.I stretched out long, pointing my toes, reaching my arms above my head. I flexed and pointed. I rotated my arms in wide circles, careful not to whack my sleeping husband. I shrugged and released my shoulders. I took big, deep breaths. The air in the room was chilly, just like I liked it. It tickled and cooled my nostrils but, when I released through my mouth, it was soft and warm.I hadn’t just awoken from a lovely dream, or even had a great night’s sleep. I wasn’t anticipating a particularly wonderful day. I merely awoke into my body, into the good health and banked energy of my body.When people ask me what I do or what I eat or what supplements I take, and then ask (of course) “Does it make a difference?” I can’t answer in the way they want me to answer. I can’t say “Why, yes, since I starting taking CoQ10 I have more energy.” Or, “Sure. My daily work-outs have increased my bone density by 2 percent.” Or, “Absolutely. Eating kale has made a new woman of me.” Because everything I do, everything we all do (or don’t do) is part of a much bigger, still pretty mysterious mix. Everything we do (don’t do) is more than a sum of its parts in ways we don’t understand and cumulative in ways we won’t discover for years. Or until one morning when we awake into our own wellness.