The other day I found myself looking for an inspirational song to play. I came across Jill Sobule’s “Nothing to Prove.” Several years ago my friend Kathy recommended it, and I bought it on itunes and listened to it for awhile, but not in a few months. Yesterday as the lyrics filtered through my brain waves I had some realizations.
Namely, I really do have nothing to prove. I have nothing to prove in the yoga room. I have nothing to prove outside the yoga room or anywhere else. This really isn’t about yoga. I’m just using it as an example. I can be my own worst enemy in the yoga room if I feel bad because my forehead can’t touch my knee. Heck maybe my forehead never will be able to touch my knee.
For me, that’s not the point of the pose. The point of the pose is to align my body as though my forehead could touch my knee without contorting my body.
Having nothing to prove also means that I’m okay just the way I am. Sure I wish I was skinnier, but, for today, I am the way I am. I clocked over 10,000 steps on my fitbit, but that’s not really important either. I went faster on the treadmill than I have in a very long time, and that’s what’s important there! I feel good about that.
Still, I have nothing to prove. Not to me. Not to you. Not to anybody. And neither do you.
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