sitting back and noticing.

I purchased myself an unlimited month to a yoga studio, just a short bus ride away through neighborhoods and highways and Crows Nest and Woolworths. I wanted to fill my midday work-free time wisely, with sweat and strength and community and newfound power.

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He said, "Yoga teachers will say, 'It doesn't matter what you look like, it's how you feel.' But it doesn't matter how you feel -- it's witnessing the feelings." Then I remembered The Untethered Soul by Michael Singer and thought what a relief it is to know that whatever you're feeling is okay, and that noticing them is really the important part.

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I was thinking about how I'm feeling unsure of myself lately and like I've lost the magic and confidence and connection and how I'm often curled up tightly inside, out of touch, and have been trying so hard to figure out why and what I can do to fix it and what's going on. And then on my yoga mat I realized that I didn't have to do anything about those feelings and that just noticing them felt like softening into a downy featherbed of my self.

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I walked through the city past wild parrots and historic brick buildings and performers pretending to be statues and thought how it would be really hard to work through an emotion by trying to change it, fix it, make it better. I walked through the neighborhood past beautiful coffee shops and reflective shop fronts and leafy front yards and thought how just noticing your feelings seemed like such a nice way to honor them, to let them know you're aware of them, to grant yourself some space to actually feel them.

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I made my way to a cafe in the park down the hill to meet with someone who never came and instead made a new friend, admired the view, purchased a warm creamy flat white. I felt settled and inspired and deeply connected, as large birds squawked overhead and palm trees bent in the breeze and a Sydney winter weekend began.

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And I noticed.