Sound Bath

 I just finished my first sound bath. So, this entry is dedicated to that.

It was an experience. I think…
For me, it’s definitely something I can see myself making space for. It was a nice change of pace—comfortable in a way that didn’t require too much of me physically. The only thing is, I need to build up my own habit so I can fully enjoy it. You know, reach that level where the comfort feels natural instead of something I have to talk myself into.

One thing she asked me afterward was how I felt.
I told her honestly: my mind was still rambling.
And she said that’s normal.
That made me feel better—like, I didn’t fail at relaxing. She said with time and consistency, once I commit to the practice and carve out space for it, the comfort will come. And I won’t have to force it.

Apparently, she hosts these every two weeks. That works for me.
Truthfully, I almost didn’t go.
Not because I didn’t want to—but because I’m trying to stop leading with this: I have commitment issues. And I’ve realized I use that as a crutch. I say it so people don’t expect much from me. But I need to stop doing that. There’s no real reason to lead with it. If I don’t want to do something, then don’t. And if I do? Just show up.

The truth is, I was curious. Yoga already intrigued me. Meditation too.
And I don’t work out—it’s just not in me. I’ve tried.
But these kinds of things—sound, stillness, reflection—this feels like me. Less pressure. More presence. A chance to slow the spin.

So when the opportunity landed in my lap, in my own neighborhood no less, I had to ask myself: why not?

The only thing I can hope for now is that I really do find my comfort in it. That I carve out that niche, that time, for myself.

And it’s not even a lot—just 30 to 45 minutes.
The woman who leads it is easy to talk to. That helps. The vibe is already there. That helps too. So many things are already working in its favor—and in mine.

Which means… if I ever change my mind, if I stop going, if I start to pull away—it’ll be obvious that I am the problem. And that’s something I have to pay attention to when I’m trying to choose a direction.

Because when you make a decision—and the timing, the energy, the opportunity all seem to line up, without you having to overextend or compromise—
what other reason would you have not to go toward it?

Author’s Note

Decision-making looks different for everyone.
Some people leap. Others linger. Some plan every step. I stall.
Not because I don’t care—but because I care too much and sometimes not enough, all at once.

For me, making a decision has always come with weight.
If I overcommit, I often fall short.
And rather than face the disappointment that comes with that, I learned to lean on the idea that I’m “just not good at commitment.”
It became my excuse. My shield. My crutch.

But what I’m starting to realize is that every time I use that crutch, I deny myself the chance to follow through on something that might actually feed me—mentally, emotionally, spiritually.
So this entry, this moment, this sound bath—it’s a tiny rebellion against that pattern. A new kind of decision. One that doesn’t have to be perfect. Just intentional