I hadn’t used it in a couple of weeks in favor of my new dentist-provided old school toothbrush. Since I was feeling pretty feisty, I pulled out the electric one and fired it up.

Oh man. It barely spun. Oh no!

I turned it off, then turned it back on, and it gradually started to build up some momentum. After my allotted two minutes of scrubbing and polishing, I turned it off and smiled “that” smile in the mirror. You know the one. The I’m-gonna-see-how-clean-my-teeth-look smile. And I have a big mouth, so I can easily see all of my teeth. Yes, all of them. (Fact: In high school, my anatomy teacher measured all of our mouths and I had the second largest in the HISTORY of the high school. And it was the oldest high school in the city. I was simultaneously horrified and proud all at once. I’m sure the picture of the inside of my mouth still hangs in that classroom to this day.)

The point?

The point is this. So many times, I’ve dragged myself onto my mat, barely able to get my appendages and muscles and bones to cooperate. Sometimes this is after only a few hours from my last practice, but more honestly, sometimes it’s after weeks or a month. I seem barely able to spin enough to get everything going in order to “scrub and polish” within my practice.

I’m happy to report that most of the time it all still works. Some days not as fluidly. Other days without missing a beat. And at the end of practice, I can smile that goofy smile.

I have passed the smile on to the next generation. You're welcome.

You know the one.

Related posts:

1. Sunshine and stars.
2. Yes or nope.
3. The art of whispering.