The forest for the trees

Acacia in Flower (or, Blossoming Acacia Branches)
Vincent van Gogh
1890

Lately I have struggled to see the forest for the trees, and for a gloominess of my own creation blanketing the light. I am working to re-discover what a pleasure it is to wake up at dawn, to move my body and tend to my home. When I bother to take a moment, stop and reconnect with what actually makes me happy instead of burying my mind in media and ugly habits, confusion turns to clarity and I feel like I can actually breathe.

Meditation and yoga is helping, and so is reworking my diet, writing and reading more books – but climbing out of my own ass has truly been the most effective thing.

 

Shoulders down, heart open to the sky

Not gonna lie: I haven’t been to yoga in almost exactly a month.

That is, I haven’t made it to an actual class, but yoga’s been on my mind every Monday, Wednesday and Sunday since the first time I tried it. What to eat before, what to eat after, class sizees, warming up, water-or-no-water? Is it normal to get so sweaty? Lots to think about. In fact, up until a half hour before class tonight, I was still working on my hairdo. Then, I fretted about what to wear. I actually called my husband at work to ask if I had to wear a bra at yoga. Yes, I did that. Over-thinking everything will be the end of me.

(His answer was, basically, no. Just make sure nobody can scope out the goods, “when you’re in the downward doggy style pose, or whatever.” I also Googled it. No bra, tonight or any other night. Wee!)

I came home from work tired, my upper back aching with stress, and all I wanted to do was sit down and fall asleep. But I’ve been coming home, sitting down and going to sleep every day for almost a month now and I still feel like crap. Instead, I grabbed an orange and went to class.  Good move on my part.

This class was more intense, with a lot more fluid movements and far too many high lunges for my shaky, inexperienced thighs. I almost fell over twice, sweated my ass off, stubbed my toe and accidentally crammed my face into my discarded sandles while executing a rather impressive [the pose where you start in plank, lower down with your arms and push your chest up?] with my eyes closed – but I did every single pose, from start to stop, and only modified once! (Fuck you, side plank!!)

This evening, I learned to love the Tiger:

YOGA CATS!

Good gravy, do I love the Tiger pose. Shoulders down, heart open to the sky.

After a wonderfully calm  savasana, I stood up and felt … high. I’m talking bong rip high. It was intense. Good, but different than last time. Then, I felt a rush of joy and energy, but today was more altering, and way outside my normal range of feeling. It was so intense that I felt no fear or shame in walking up to the instructor and asking for some clarification. Highly unusual for me, especially when I’m sweaty, frizzy and smelling of communal yoga mat.

We walked out together, chatting and laughing – it felt so wild and freeing to be there with her, giggling, body so wobbly I could barely navigate a straight line. I can’t explain it, but I want it again. I swear, I could feel my body sing.

Yoga is good

We signed me up for the gym a few days ago, and I swore to myself I’d do the yoga group class on Sunday. I have been tentatively looking forward to it, sort of in the way you look forward to going to the dentist and fixing your toothache. I didn’t buy any new outfits or do anything special, but I was trying something new. I haven’t stepped outside my comfort zone  in a long time. I was so determined to do it right, I filled the water pitcher and the hot water pot before bed. I even started this post Saturday night, knowing I’d be unable to face the shame of deleting the draft if I chickened out. Preparedness is key.

My husband extols the virtues of working out in the mornings. His reasoning is, if you do it first thing, you won’t feel bad about spending the rest of the day in your underwear, playing video games. I see the wisdom in that, and underwear + video games was my afternoon plan until yoga was actually finished. I felt – and still feel – so good, ready and raring to go. I’d only been home an hour, and I’d already done the dishes, cleaned the bathroom and made myself lunch.

Then, I headed to the neighbors for a few glasses of champagne. Yesterday was definitely worth celebrating. Namaste, folks.

PS: I did the Eagle Pose for the first time and didn’t fall on my face:

From Yoga Cats calendar

It was very affirming.