Shorter Days

The sunset was pink, blue, and purple over my neighbors’ blue-and-purple houses as I walked to the yoga studio to teach tonight.  One of those odd T or C sunsets where the color was not in the west, but somewhere else. Tonight, the northeast. It was beautiful, but daylight was ending already at five-fifteen.

 Waiting until I’ve done all my chores and errands before I do what’s most rewarding is no longer an option. It could be dark by then. I’ve always been the work-first play-later type, the anti-procrastinator, but if I want to walk, run, or do outdoor yoga, I have to take advantage of the sunny hours, the warmest part of the day.

Sometimes I make myself do every tedious task before I free myself to write. Life is short. My days are shorter. I feel young, but I’m not. What am I waiting for? Along with teaching yoga, this is my work and my art. I give myself permission, right this minute, to drop everything else and do it.

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Published by

Amber Foxx

Author of Mae Martin psychic mystery series.

5 thoughts on “Shorter Days”

    1. I took a class in Albuquerque with a teacher who opened the class with this same observation. The importance of that word. Now. She studied Iyengar yoga in India a few years ago and I think you may have teachers in common.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Reading this was startling! It made me stop and think about how I live, and I am far too structured. I believe I was meant to see this post and may somehow I can start to shed my sense of doing things to get them out of the way.

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