By Melody Lima
I hear the sounds of sirens as I tumble out of bed. I love sunrise in the city. The abundance of energy, the opportunity for success, everyone hustling and bustling to fulfill their purpose.
I open my blinds, unroll my yoga mat and gently sit for a moment; inhale and exhale – the first breath is not easy. I try again; inhale and exhale – a tad better. Inhale and exhale – now we are getting into the flow of it, the rhythm of life, the comfort, the familiar maintenance and the peace.
Today my body requires simple, easy asana. Props are necessary, where are those blocks?
I ease into some seated side bends, easy twists and a low lunge with my knee on the floor. Child’s pose brings such sweet nectar to my morning.
A clumsy down dog, slow steps into Uttanasana and as I roll up to stand my energy is in place to face my day.
I must get in the shower. I have a meeting uptown in an hour. I look at my phone to confirm the meeting details.
Alerts everywhere! Another shooting, another tragedy, more death. Oh shit!
Om Shanti. Shanti. Shanti.
I cannot catch my breath. Where is my pranayama bliss?
I stand against the wall for a moment. There it is, inhale and exhale.
Water splashes over me. I cannot differentiate from tears or shower drops. I cannot listen to bad news today. I cannot see pictures of mangled bodies on my social media. I cannot hear sounds of guns from a video. I cannot smell the anguish of lives lost in the air. I cannot taste the fear of it happening here, again.
It erupts from the deepest parts of my soul, the sound nearly frightens me. It is a sound of my panic, terror, anxiety, suffering and grief.
I howl in the shower, yearning for peace.