The life and times of a tattooed Yoga teacher with technicolor hair

Finding my way… Watching how life falls apart and comes back together.

“I don’t believe in magic”

Sometimes I feel really silly.  Actually, most of the time I feel silly.  Like a walking contradiction.  I change so frequently, half of the time I have no idea who I am.
My mood dictates whether I am outgoing or anti-social (though I almost always prefer the latter).  I rely on alcohol to overcome that… shhhh!

There was a phase of me that hardly ever drank.  When a 6-pack would stay in my fridge for months (say whaaaat?).
That was the phase when I thought a lot about alcoholism running in my family, that I should keep a check on that.
But life is short, right?  How short is it?  Hell if I know.  Probably too short.

There for a while I tried to be really “spiritual”.
I wore my mala beads and would rub them sometimes while I taught a meditation class for a month or two year before last.
Then I was a “hip” yoga teacher.
I bought funky yoga clothes and fantasized about buying crystals and sacred stones.  I’d play really fun and funky music in my classes, stuff today that drives me nuts when I try to pick a playlist.
Having full moon meditations, and doing 108 sun salutations on solstices.  Ya know, maybe in a place where people would actually show up for that sort of thing.
Then I started really looking into all of the crystal jewelery and sacred stones and thought, “$250 for a bracelet? Fuck your crystals, brah. They can suck my imaginary stones.”
Before that I would only play A-typical yoga music; i.e. mantras, lots of sitar and stuff (which I do still enjoy, mostly).
I started using a singing bowl to bring students out of Savasana.
I rather liked that phase of me.  I incorporated mantras and mudras into my classes.
Yes, yes.  I rather liked that phase of me.

Am I bitter?  Probably.  Do I tend to only write when I’m bitter (and kind of drunk), hell yes.  So?  Did I tell you about my phase when I pretended to never be bitter?  When I would just push. that. shit. down.  Eat it.  I like bitter foods and bitter drinks, I can eat bitter feelings.  I’m skilled at such.

I’m not saying the folks who do all of the above things are wrong.  Why would I try to emulate them if I didn’t perceive the value in it – the clarity, the bliss?  Ah, but whatever it is that is me always comes back.  I still haven’t figured out who me is.  Perhaps I never will?  Or maybe I am all of these different facets.  I am starting to see the quality in this shape-shifting-type-thing.  I have a very religious background, so dare I say it?  Might I be “all things to all people”?  HAHA!
But in all seriousness, it does make it easier to make friends; to see other people’s side to things.  Good grief, sometimes all I can do is see other people’s side to things and I have no idea what my opinion is or if I even have one.
*Sigh* these things I know are sure:
I’m honest with people.
I’m kind to people, creatures of all sorts.  At times ridiculously so, whatever that might mean.
My empathy runs deep, always has.
I like making people and creatures comfortable and secure.

Yup.  That’s pretty much all I got.  Happy full blood harvest wolf mother moon.

P.S. I must not be the only one, because Dear John wrote a song about it.  That can’t be bad.

xx

Protected: “Freely Writing” or “This would be an Editor’s Worst Nightmare”

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

All is coming

I remember things that I used to write, years ago.
They reflected the mental, emotional and physical state I was in at the time.
Some may say that writing was a means to “get the emotions out”, while others may say that I was reaffirming those emotions.
It was both.

I look at things I have written recently, since I began writing again, and the feelings those writings bring up.
Not just the feelings in me, but the feelings they stir up in others.
Recently, I shared my background regarding eating disorders with Yoga Journal, and how my practice with Yoga helped me.
Even more recently, it was posted on the YJ website.
Just the other day, I posted it on my Facebook page for my friends and family to see.
Let’s be real, I had a couple beers and was like, “Yeah! Do it! What are you waiting for?!”

I shared it with my community of graduates from the teacher training program I graduated from.
The response I received from both social networks was so amazing. The support from my husband and dear friends was so beautiful.
That it resonated with such a wide community, that people shared their stories after reading mine – made my heart feel as though it would burst.

That journey, from childhood to now, was extremely painful.
Even writing this, tapping into where I was to be thankful for where I am gives me a stab to my heart.
Perhaps one day I’ll no longer feel the need to ask myself, “If you could, would you change any of it?”, but I’m not there yet.
So I ask myself, and my response is: I wish people would have known just how much they meant to me.
Ah, I was so busy not loving myself, that I couldn’t share how much I loved others.

Everything brings you to where you are. I’m grateful. Here and Now, I’m so grateful for all of it.

It’s become a kind of game, Ram Dass uses the apt analogy of a chess game, “I made this move, let’s see what happens to the rest of the game.”
I’m interested to see how things play out.
Which is not to say that I don’t get impatient, or that I don’t second-guess my moves at times.
It’s that ebb and flow; somedays I feel courageous, others not so much (or at all), but it comes back around.
Yoga, meditation, mindfulness – all of it has shown me to watch the fluctuations.
I’m not so good with not getting attached to the highs and lows, but I’m a work in progress.

In the back of my mind I know the gist of how I’d like things to happen. The good thing about where I currently am in my journey, is that even if I become impatient while waiting on the next move (doh! Isn’t that being the cause of my own suffering?), I know the next move is gonna’ come. It has to, everything always changes. I’ve made my move – it was scary, and difficult and beautifully rewarding.
I’ll keep doing my practice, keep listening so my impatience might become minimal.

Like Sri K. Patthabi Jois said, “Practice and all is coming.”

True story.

If you’d like to read that Yoga Journal article, this is it.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.