upward energy

A few mornings ago, I sat on my mat with that familiar tug in two directions. My chest felt light, almost electric, while my legs felt heavy, like they belonged to a different day.
I tried to name it — the split between wanting to rise and wanting to rest.

Lately, that tension has been everywhere. I scroll the news, close my laptop, open it again. The world keeps offering both heartbreak and momentum, sometimes in the same breath.

I mostly keep to myself on these things. But it lives in me. The awareness of so much breaking apart, and the small, stubborn sense that something inside still wants to build.

That’s the lift I keep feeling — energy that doesn’t quite know where to go. It’s creative, restless, sometimes edged with anger. It moves through my chest and into my hands, but if I’m not careful, it pulls me right out of my body.

So I’ve started to make a small ritual of grounding. Nothing formal. I lie down, place a folded blanket across my lower belly, and breathe until I can feel the weight settle into me.
It’s not magic, but it helps me stay. To remember that I don’t have to float above the world to keep moving through it.

When I get up, the heaviness doesn’t vanish, and neither does the lift. But they start to feel like parts of the same current. The weight reminding me of what matters, the lift reminding me that I still care.

That’s the rhythm I’m learning to trust.
Not choosing one over the other.
Just being here for both.