This NYTimes Article is nice for a Saturday morning read:
And I sat on that beach and I wept. For myself, at 50. For my exhaustion with life. For my fear of dying like my mother, who left me so slowly, so cruelly that I didn’t realize she was gone. But mostly I wept for an awakening I had given up on, for that 15-second rush: a realization there could be something around the corner I might fully, lightly, loudly love again.
Sometimes, you just need to take a little break, and have some fun, ya know? Find some joy in life again. I think the Yoga aspect of this article is mostly irrelevant, but the tenderness of these two towards each other, despite their inner battles, inspires me.