Stung

I got stung on the bum by a bee during the outdoor practice today. Know what I did? I abandoned my mat.

I stopped what I was doing and took care of the bee-sting. 

It hurt. It captured all of my attention. Memories of puffed up bee stings on my first night at Girl Scout Camp came to the surface. I cried for a second.  

But I feel better now.

I wish I had the wherewithal to manage life-stings with that kind of immediacy and urgency. Instead, I downplay their importance.

“They didn’t mean it,” I’ll think, or “I’m being too sensitive.”

And then time passes and the stinger stays stuck in my butt because I didn’t tend to it. Walking around town with a stinger in your backside can lead to unnecessary long term limping.

And what am I doing all this yoga for if not to alleviate the limp?

Posted by

Mel Kozakiewicz a professor, editor, writer, and mother of two.

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