“You wander from room to room/Hunting for the diamond necklace/That is already around your neck”– Rumi
Today is 4/4, a particularly spiritual day.
To quote one of my favorite websites, “The number 4 is all about foundations, systems-building, and hard work – just to name a few of its many attributes. It’s also an energy related to knowledge and holds the vibe of The Teacher. April is a month to set time aside to learn something new. It encourages us to sign up for the class, pick up the book, or sign-on for a hands-on learning experience.”
I read this article right after I had committed myself to doing an intense SoulCycle challenge this week, attempting to complete anywhere from 7-12 classes. I know this will test me in all of the ways I want to grow: mind, body, and spirit.
The latter element is why I keep finding myself drawn back into the red-lit rooms of SoulCycle South Beach and Coral Gables, instead of the more budget-friendly, Classpass-comped spin classes which I probably should be taking for financial reasons.
The wall of every SoulCycle studio implores you, no, declares you to be an “Athlete. Legend. Warrior. Rockstar. Renegade.”
Each class, I go inward to contemplate. Am I those things? If not, what is holding me back?
Exactly four months from today, my world shifted. I made a mistake, I suffered a loss, I ultimately ended up hurt in a way that I had promised myself I would never feel again.
For years, I had played it safe, only allowing myself to get into relationships where I was unequivocally the star. I burned so bright that others couldn’t help but orbit around me, unyielding and predictable. I was always in control.
Until one summer day, when I fell down a black hole. How intoxicating, to be pulled into the sphere of someone with a force which could match my own. Wit for wit, thought for thought, insult for insult.
I imploded it though, I lost control.
Then, a galaxy of silence, of questions, of never-heard answers.
Four months ago today, December 4th.
But 4 is the teaching number, it forces us to call forth what we need. Sometimes from the outside, but more often, what is inward.
There are no sounds in dead space, just your own heartbeat.
But, I am not a meteor. I do not crumble when hit with resistance.
I am made up of the very fabric of the stars themselves, the same elements which burn so bright.
I burn, I burn, I burn and I illuminate what is hidden, even when I don’t entirely want to see.
The grapefruit-scented Jonathan Adler candles burn too, at the front of the studio like a little fitness altar. We have a few minutes to go deep, to push our bodies as hard and fast, or as meditative and slow, as we want. It is the only time when we choose.
I jog until my heart beats consume me, but I still have a little space to breathe, to think.
My calves ache, my quads are sore. It’s the eighth day in a row that I’ve worked out, or maybe the ninth. I am starting to get a cold, but I don’t have time to acknowledge it.
Every day, I get closer to becoming the woman I want to be. I am not sure if I will ever quite get there.
I always want to set the bar higher, push harder, go faster. When my heart explodes out of my chest one final time-in that last moment before I return to stardust-I want to know that I lived a life as free of fear, and full of courage, as possible.
[Photo Credit: HERE]