Kaya Sthira and the Traveling Itch

A few weeks ago, I had a training weekend for my next level of yoga teacher try. During this live zoom weekend, we did a practice that was called kaya sthira. Kaya sthira means physical steadiness or stillness, so as we would move through poses, our teacher would say "kaya sthira," and as the students, we would try to hold a pose without moving. This doesn't sound difficult on its face, but it's incredibly hard because the second someone tells you not to move, all you can think about is moving. After the practice, we spent some time debriefing how we felt during it, and I noticed during the practice that I had a traveling itch. In one pose, the itch was in my forearm. In another, that itch moved to my ear lobe. That itch kept moving around, and my teacher mentioned that would be a great poem or children's book, so I have taken it as a challenge to somehow use the traveling itch in a poem.

The poem below is inspired by the kaya sthira practice and Lyndsey Rush's poetry.

Traveling Itch

I'm trying my best/trying to breathe deep/trying to listen more than I talk/trying to get my groove back/to keep love alive/to find my way home/trying to keep my car clean/to keep my eyes open/to get my kids to school on time/trying to write/to read/to give you a call back/trying to pick up flowers/to make that recipe/to scratch that traveling itch/to seek quiet/to carve a path/trying a little bit of everything.