I don't know where to begin with this blog and have been thinking about it far too long. There is so much sitting on my heart that I feel like it might implode. This blog might just end up being a jumbled, rambling mess. That's ok - I've been told I need to give myself room to be messy, though it drives me nuts. Fine. Deep breath. None of this is going to make sense and I want to write about everything but yoga right now...
This weekend has run the course of all of who I am - from silly, loving, sad, depressed, angry, organized, worried, scared, daring, rebellious, giving, forgiving, obsessive, extravagant, lavish, perfectionist trying to remember to focus on progress, impatient, patient, back to loving. I am wobbling back and forth faster than an old lady church soprano's high C! But these are just descriptions that my limited "self" came up with to describe an incredibly complex and, yet at the same time, simple "Self". My heart is overwhelmed and confused. I miss my mother who passed away 5 years ago. I long for nurturing, compassion, protection, stability. Such a deep longing. I could use avoidance techniques which I am very good at and could call it other things. I could lie to myself and say I need this or need that, or more likely I need "to do this" or I need "to do" that and THEN everything will be better. Bullshit. Bullpucky! I'm not longing for these things just because she passed away either but Mother's Day does bring it up.
Nurturing, Compassion, Protection and Stability were all carpets that were pulled out from out underneath my feet frequently in my childhood. My mother did the best she could as a paranoid schizophrenic and later in life when she was "treated" I did get to see her more as a nurturing and compassionate, loving mother. My memory of her tends to always float to these aspects of her, even the childhood ones. I always find my way around to positive. I've always been a Pollyanna of sorts. It's a coping mechanism I guess. Sometimes I get sick of smiling and laughing it all away. I know only I can provide for myself these things I long for but it is SO hard. I am SO tired. The only compassion I can seem to come up for myself is "stop whining already and get out of your pity party!" AHHHHHHHH!
Yoga. This is a blog about yoga. Okay. Redirect. I'd love for yoga to be about making a pretty posture and I'd love even more for my body to be able to do all of them in perfect 10 form already. I would love to not have back pain and a pull in my left heel and excuses, excuses. Then I could say - "Here. See. I can do this! Isn't that enough for you to love me? Am I perfect enough now that you will see me and that I will matter?" But see the yoga isn't about the posture for me and it isn't even about the perfection. It is about will you love me, will you see me, will I matter? Sometimes I think I want the answer to come from the teacher, from my fellow yogis/yoginis, but that's not the truth though when a complement does come my way it is like cocaine to my system - fabulous extasy and guilty denial all one fell swoop! In truth, I am hoping the person I stare at in the mirror will one day just decide to say a permanent yes. "Yes, I love you - always have, always will. Yes, I see You - the real you and you are beautiful and you have all the encouragement in the world. Yes, you matter - you are special and your life here on earth is meaningful." One day the person in the mirror will just say yes.
Again, my self-worth wrapped up into an activity. It used to be that I transferred all these questions into the activity of singing and frankly that's too much pressure for a singer. How did this end up in my yoga now? What a piece of work is the human mind? I wish I didn't have these problems. I wish I could just make pretty poses - that would be so much easier. But the right way is the hard way.
Goal for class tonight... be nice to me. I'll take civil. Civil would be progress.
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