I love how yoga can both boost your confidence and keep you humble at the same time. I mean, when I first started with the half primary in April, I couldn't even get into lotus. I remember that even HALF lotus would KILL my ankle, and I'd feel like the skin was tearing off, and I'd be breathing really super fast to try to get through the five breaths like ohmygodohmygodohmygodmakeitstop!!!!! Then I got INTO lotus and freaked out because it hurt so bad and I thought I was stuck there. Then I could hold it. Then I could bind it (sort of) for Baddha Padmasana, after which I'd get "criss cross applesauce" (formerly known as Indian style) for a half-ass version of lifted lotus.
Then, one day, I decided to TRY to lift it. Nope, didn't work. Oh well, on with my flow. Then, a couple days ago, I thought what the hell, I'll try it again. At first, I had to figure out where to put my hands. It was a weird feeling and I had to sit back down and try again, but then...I was DOING it!!! It was AMAZING! I felt so badass. But, of course with yoga, you never reach your "destination". It's all about the journey, and the journey never ends. I like that, though. There's always something more you can do, something just out of reach to grasp for, some dangling carrot to entice you to push onward. So I do.
So yeah, I felt pretty badass. Until I was googling pictures for this entry, and I was like...whaaaaaaat. The fuck. Take a gander:
Yeah. And she's all chill, like yeah. No big deal, this is my nap pose. *yawn*
So anyway, there's the Tolasana part. We've already gone over my previous contemplation on the significance of lotus and how it correlates to my emotional issues. In a very literal way, I just could not open up. On one hand, on the surface, I seem to wear my heart on my sleeve. But in an almost paradoxical sense, I have always been so closely guarded. I can spill the contents of my heart to anyone, but let you in? It would seem that I am quick to fall in love, based on my romantic history. It's partially true, as I am quick to lose myself in the intoxicating exhilaration of infatuation. I tell myself, and half-believe, that I am "in love". This allows me to feel extremely strong feelings for a person without ACTUALLY being close.
I used to watch this show called Outsourced about a call center in India. This guy from the states is over there in India discussing arranged marriage with one of his Indian co-workers. The co-worker says that with our way, it is like tea that starts out very hot and cools down, where with arranged marriages the tea starts out cold and heats up over time. Now, I'm not in favor of arranged marriages at all. But, I notice that the quality of love that I have with Joth is of a completely different nature than the teenage hormonal superficial feelings I've attributed to love in the past.
I mean, sure, I'm not going to lie -- THAT is still there. THIS isn't the ABSENCE of that giddy high-school stuff -- it's IN ADDITION TO it. It's another dimension of romance previously nonexistent in previous relationships. That's not to say they all sucked all the time -- you, dear diary, know better. I've blogged about plenty of good feelings, happy times, relative success (albeit brief) in relationships. When you don't know what you're missing, you don't miss it.
But anyway, since we've been together, I've been opening up. I have been overcoming challenges, moving through struggle, and evolving -- spiritually, emotionally, AND physically. It's so interesting to watch this happen across all areas of my life.
I even stopped to evaluate an old fear-driven triggered ego-response last night. I didn't react. Blair and Rachel gave Tristan a bible and I kinda freaked out inside. I identified each of the feelings in the range that came up, and sought to understand the root of each. Fear. What am I afraid of? That they will indoctrinate him. Why am I afraid of this? I don't want him to be judgmental and narrow-minded. What would be the impact of me sending the text I want to send right now to Rachel? I would come across as irrational. It would seem like I feel threatened. DO I feel threatened? No, I'm secure in my beliefs. Do I feel like Tristan must share my beliefs? No, but I don't want him to share THEIRS. Why? Because I feel like they are exerting control over him. Is this because YOU want to be in control of him? Is this about who he "belongs" to? Is this ego?
Hmmmmm.
Last thing. Do you remember my vision board from last year? I had a crystal grid on there. A picture of hands that said "Have hands of light. Learn Reiki." A couple pictures of yoga. A picture of a cup of tea. A picture of Sarasvati. A diagram of the eight limbs of yoga (none of which I knew the meaning of at the time). A circle of women, a picture of healthy cooking.
In the past year, I have learned Reiki. I have remained committed to a regular yoga practice. I drink tea, maybe not every day, but I at least have some in the cupboard and drink it like once a month. I have studied the eight limbs of yoga and other books going deeper into yoga and Eastern philosophy. I learned (in Reiki class) how to set up crystal grids. The sister circle flared back up for a while, and the book club came about...although we are now a little more disconnected from each other, but at least for a period of time that piece came to be. Who knows, it might again. Also, I've learned a LOT about healthy, natural, organic cooking. And sure, maybe still it's mostly smoothies, but my eating habits HAVE changed. And more importantly, I understand more now about the role of nutrition.
Then, there is the picture of the tarot card The Empress. There is a mother, tucking her child into bed at night. Notes saying "Never, ever, ever give up" and "Make things happen". Two happy kids. Those all related to two things -- me becoming the best mother I could be, strengthening our family and contributing to the happiness and well-being of my children; and achieving the goal of getting Tristan back home. It's been a heartbreaking two years. You've heard me spill the tears, vent the frustration, voice the agony. You've heard the anger, the heartbreak, the betrayal. I thought I was never going to win.
Then today, Rachel texted me. They want to start transitioning Tristan to live with me again, and soon. He is acting out at school and nothing any of us have been doing is helping. They feel that maybe he is beginning to resent them because he wants to live with me. Honestly, I have been saying this from DAY ONE. We need a PLAN. We need to set expectations -- not knowing when, if, or how he was coming home has given ME anxiety, I can only imagine how it may have affected him.
There were nights I woke up in the middle of the night, gripped with sheer terror, panic running through my veins. I don't think anyone can ever describe adequately the pain of being separated from your children when they are still at an age where you should be providing for their every need. The fear for their safety and well being. The concern for whether their little heart is breaking, and the sharp tugs at your own as you realize you can't wipe the tears off their cheek that they cry for you. I shoved it down, down, down like I always do. What else can you do with that type of emotion? How else can you cope with the intensity of that grief? There is no facing it. If you let it out of its little box, you know it will devour you. You can not.
Now, my year is complete. At the same time, though, it's only just begun! I really feel like the cycle of pain and suffering has ended, and I take with me only the lessons as I move into my next phase.
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