As I step out of the shower this afternoon, I pause, look at the bubble-gum pink towel, and see childhood. Mom tells me I have to let her watch as I towel off to make sure all the water is off. I remember how tormenting bath time was as a child.
I shake my adult head, and laugh out loud at the ludicrousness of the situation. Something as simple as taking a bath and looking at a bath towel can take me right out of my adult head.
In a few hours I go to yoga and leave with a clearer mind. I listen to my body when it wants rest, and I tell the voice in my head -mom’s voice- to be quiet. Leave me alone. I’m not listening to you. Your voice serves no purpose.