Last weekend after teaching my Saturday morning yoga class, I went to an ecstatic dance class. I hadn't been to dance in a long time.
It was great! I was swirling around the dance floor connecting with friends and strangers through our shared love of movement.
I had moments of pausing, resting, and catching my breath. At one point, I wrapped my arms around my friend, felt my utter exhaustion, and said, "I am so-o-o tired!"
I felt rung out and I felt sad about it because I could dance for hours and not be as tired as I was in that moment. Is this life after 50?
Is this the peri-menopausal crap I'd been hearing about and now it was happening to me?
I didn't know, but I needed to eat and I needed to rest. I got home, made a nice breakfast of eggs, avocado, and spinach and refueled. I had the entire day ahead of me. I had things to do, places to go, people to see. Or so I thought...
My body had another agenda. She wanted to lie...
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