I laid on the floor in savasana in what was my first-ever hotel room yoga practice and finally let go of the day.
Then of course, like any normal person who finds themselves lying on the floor in a hotel room, I peeked under the bed, out of morbid curiosity, to see if anyone had left anything behind.
No, they didn’t, I concluded, and wrapped up my hour-long practice with a warbly, wobbly, exhausted-sounding OM.
Now, content after eating the delicious tempeh salad and greens I packed for my short business trip, I sit in the quiet of my hotel room in Gainesville, listening to the slight whirring of the minifridge and the occasional heavy thud of another room door shutting. My eyelids are heavy and my brain like warm pudding (?!) after an intense day of training at my company’s main office here, but it’s refreshing to feel full, literally and figuratively, and accomplished.
My day began on four, not two, wheels around 5:45 a.m. Bags packed, I loaded up my minicooler with lots of fresh nomz for the week and hopped in my housemate’s trusty CAR and slowly buzzed down I-75. Fortunately for the majority of the trip I poked along winding backroads through the mountains of northeast Georgia, the houses, farms and small towns I passed slowly illuminated in the dusk, waking up beneath what was a beautiful blanket of fog. I witnessed a breathtaking sunrise and, giddily, even stopped at an overlook to take it in.
It’s been at least four months since I’ve traveled out of Chattanooga, and nearly half a year since I piloted a vehicle by myself on a trip. I sang along to Andrew Bird as I, in the car, followed turns on Hwy. 136 like a little mouse following a trail of bread crumbs that led me to the quaint old house where the office is. On my drive I laughed repeatedly at the fact that I was indeed driving, that I could very easily get lost, and that I felt wildly independent.
Savoring that feeling of independence, I noticed most of the people driving around me looked like they were on their way to work, probably on the same roads they drive every day, same right hand cupping their mug of weak coffee or left hand pressing a phone to their ear… the moment of freedom as realized by driving a car alone passed quickly. Traffic became steadier as I neared Gainesville, missed a turn, had to pee, then my right butt check went numb, et cetera, and pulled in the parking lot, relieved to be free from the confines of the car and happy to drink in the still-cool morning air…
Right now, though, I’ll settle and let the beauty of my morning drive and of the getting-to-know-you training process I’m experiencing sink in. I look forward to the brightness of tomorrow—election day!—and to continuing to find peace in interesting spaces.