Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Tangled

I'm having such a hard time focusing and understanding lately.  I keep bouncing from one perceived failure to another.  I say "perceived" because I can't, frankly, recognize what is true failure and what is simply self-criticism.

Here are some truths I think that I know.  I am incredibly short-tempered.  I would rather be alone than with anyone most times of most days.  I have so much that I want to do and I accomplish so little.  I am angry at almost everything and everyone.  I seem unable to stop myself from looking back at all that I used to be able to do and regret how useless I feel now.  I cry a lot.

I feel tangled in a web.  Every time I struggle to better my position, I become more entangled, trapped.  It's hard to keep struggling.  It's hard to bother when I don't see a solution to the problem.  It's hard to do anything other than just succumb.  

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Humbled

I don't keep a blog to air my complaints to the world.  Even my Mommy blog, which is largely complaining, isn't to complain.  Each serves its own purpose.  The Mommy blog makes light of the often tedious task of parenting, while this blog has allowed me to shed layers and layers of facades to reveal what is true to me.

Yet tonight I am humbled by the struggle of another and feeling a little guilty about what feels like complaining when recognizing what he is going through.  Rarely are those facing a struggle deserving of the suffering they endure.  Whatever we are presented with, we can choose courage and grace or we can cower.  Truth be told, no one escapes the cowering completely.  I certainly feared and floundered and fled. But I try to stand tall, to be brave, and to be honest, and I know he will do the same.

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

The Heaviness

My mind feels heavy.  It's too thick to feel, to reason.  I watch the hours of the days tick by waiting, only to realize that nothing is coming.  I am either in a state of complete defeat or desperation for change.  In defeat, I sit, silent, wishing "it" would be over.  I don't have the capacity to focus on what "it" is supposed to be.  Sometimes, in defeat, I grasp onto desperation.  What can I do to stop feeling this way?  I make pages and pages of lists:  things to do, habits to change, things that inspire me.  I frantically clean the house, rearrange my closet, work on my book, DO something, anything, but nothing makes me feel better.

It's like there is a disconnect from my mind to my body to my soul.  My mind has ideas and feelings it wants to instill into my soul, through use of my body.  Sadly, my mind can't convince my body to be consistent enough to impact my soul, which sits hollow.  Something broke in me, probably a long time ago, probably as a result of a thousand hurts and disappointments and betrayals.  Without realizing it, I think I wrapped my soul up tight, locked it in safe, and lost the combination.  Absolutely there have been times where its light has burst through the cracks and I have felt whole and alive.  Lately, my mind has missed the completeness that an unbroken, free soul brings to life.  

I know I'm missing something, I just can't find it.  And, to tell the truth, it's so much worse than those darkest days when I didn't realize that it, that I, was broken.  

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

I'm Listening

Although I'm starting to write, for the first time in my blogging history, I haven't come up with a title first.  That might sound dramatic, but I think it's rather significant.  Of course, there's a title now that you're reading it, but as I'm writing it, I'm letting it come to me.  In fact, the same is true for the content of this blog.  I'm letting it come to me.  Oh, I have a general theme or two I'm thinking of, but we'll see what comes of those.  Instead, I'm going to share a narrative and see where that leads.  

I started my new gig at the yoga studio today.  In what seemed like absolute fate, or as my master yoga teacher would describe it "a hole opening up in the universe," shortly before my teacher training was about to begin, my studio was looking for new reception staff.  I applied, despite the express warning from loved ones that I should prepare myself for disappointment due to my "over qualification."  It's true, of course.  Someone might look at my background and wonder what on earth happened to me that I'm seeking a reception position.  Fortunately for me, though, the studio owner already knew my deep dark secrets because she'd interviewed me for my training and, let's face it, I can't really explain why yoga is so important to me these days without an explanation of where I've been.

I came in for class on Saturday morning, a week after submitting my resume, and she greeted me with a huge smile.  She conspiratorially uncovered my resume from a stack of paperwork and confessed that she'd been meaning to call me.  She shared that the position would be nights and weekends and that she wasn't sure if I would be interested in light of my family obligations.  I was.  She said she'd call to set something up and off to yoga class I went feeling light as air.  

Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday went by and I started to panic that maybe I hadn't shown enough enthusiasm.  Just when I was starting to give up hope, I heard from her!  (Turns out I transposed two numbers on my resume and she had to track down my phone number.)  She confessed that she'd had a lot of applicants and the work was largely grunt work.  But she had an idea.  She had some projects that would better utilize my skill sets.  She still wanted me for the studio!  The work is so right up my alley.  It's like a hole opened up in the universe.

So, back to the beginning, I started today.  The first thing I noticed was how laid back things were.  When you're used to working on billed time (and expensive billed time), there's no room for chit chat, niceties or basic human consideration.  I once had a client ask whether he would be reimbursed for the time another attorney stopped in to say hello while we were waiting for a mediator to return after talking to the other party.  I was introduced to anyone that came in the studio.  I was given background on some of the cool people I'll be working with.  We talked about our families, our pets, our health.  Because there is only one computer, I had a bit of time to wait.  I picked up a few of the holistic and natural-themed magazines.  As I read them, I settled further into the state of relaxation and peace that began the minute I walked in the door.

As I sat there, immersed in that environment, I felt led.  Although I'd contemplated my next career move and how I might incorporate yoga, as something I feel passionate about, I hadn't yet tried to listen to what just felt right.  As I was reading, I wandered into my emotional self.  What have I done that feels good?  What do these significant, painful experiences reveal to me and how can I use them for good?  How can I incorporate a yogic lifestyle into my work, not just the hour a day I practice yoga?  How can I maximize the time I feel truly inspired?  

I'm a very closed person, or at least I have been these last few years.  I've felt so trapped by the individual masks I've been wearing:  lawyer, mom, wife, neighbor, daughter, sister, friend, woman.  I got so lost trying to do things right that I never considered what "right" was to me.  I might have mastered textbook right or magazine spread right or expectations of others right, but none of it fit.  

As I slip into something more comfortable with this very different path, a new, stronger me is emerging, an empowered me...the only "me" I have to be.  Pursuing these next steps in my life, I will remain aware of being authentic.  I will embrace me, even when my McDonald's coke habit doesn't jive with the vegan ways of so many yogis.  :)  It's who I am and I'm starting to believe that when I decide to be exactly who I am, no adjustments or apologies, good things will come.  

I have some big ideas about my future and while I'm not quite ready to share the details, or maybe they're not clear enough yet for me to piece together, I'm starting to recognize that letting things come to me, like blog titles, career paths or mentors, will yield happy, fulfilling results for me.  

Friday, February 7, 2014

Get Uncomfortable

So I started my yoga teacher training tonight (yay!).  On Fridays, we practice sangha, which is a sanskrit word meaning "community," getting to know each other, discussing our struggles and triumphs and understanding how those affect our yoga practice, with the support of our community.  Cool, hippy idea, right?  In theory, it's right up my alley.  On the other hand, it expects a lot of intimacy.  Four of the fourteen of us cried while making introductions tonight.  Many of us have a painful past that draws us to the practice of yoga, myself included.

I was a coward tonight and shared the PR-ed version of my experiences and the crash that drew me to this self-reflective journey.  In the end, I shared the less air brushed version of the truth with a woman who talked about her own mental health struggle and I felt better for it.  If I could go back, I'd put the whole thing out there.  Alas, there is time and these people will most certainly get to know me better.

Although I don't want to detail the experience too much, partly because that's not what this blog is about and partly because I don't want to publicize the mystique of what I'm doing, but I did have some pretty intense observations tonight and I'm thrilled by that.  It means that this training, this journey, will be exactly what I'd hoped it would be.  Self-illuminating.

We did a walking meditation exercise tonight.  We started out walking slowly, looking at the ground.  I walked too fast.  I didn't leave the circle until another student did.  I knew where the instructor was at all times.  I barely breathed, despite that this was a meditation exercise and breathing is fundamental in all things calming.  I couldn't shut my spinning thoughts up.

After a time, we were to look at waist level, but without making eye contact.  Then we moved to shoulder level without making eye contact.  Last, we were to continue this slow walk, while making eye contact with another and moving toward them.  We stood across from each other and simply looked into each other's eyes.  This may sound silly if you've never done it, or if you don't have any issues with confidence and intimacy, but it was difficult for me.  A feeling of almost embarrassment washed over me, like M might see right into my dark, broken soul.  I flushed.  After a moment, we were instructed to tell the person the first word that pops into our head to describe the other.

I am disappointed to admit that I was most interested in what the two instructors said to describe.  Why?  It's about pleasing.  They are the ones in charge, so they are the ones to please.  I seek their approval above that of my peers.  Of course, I think that both instructors would suggest that no part of this exercise should have been about approval from anyone, but in the support of the community around me and learning to bond with those I will travel this path with.

My instructor, who is a psychic and intuitive medium, said I was vulnerable and a powerhouse.  I love to hear that.  She's right on, of course, with the vulnerability.  I was practically cocooning myself while I walked.  The assistant instructor said I was unpredictable and unexpected.  I like the idea of not meeting expectations, surprising, despite my innate desire for approval.  There were a few others, but over and over I heard "strong."

There is a very real part of me that believes those folks are wrong.  There is a growing part of me that hopes that maybe they're right and it's me who has been wrong.  I've felt so weak throughout this process.  I haven't felt strong or brave, two words that my wonderful, supportive friends have used over and over.  The tiny, evil voice in the back of my head instantly responds with "fraud" when I hear that kind of accolade.

 Tonight, though, in the warmth of the circle of new friends of my yoga community, not only did I feel the kinship that the exercise was designed to inspire, but I felt the tiniest spark inside.  In true yoga fashion, which I affectionately refer to as "hippy," I'm visualizing that spark into a raging fire.  That spark is hope and it's burning.

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

The Roller Coaster

I've had a fair number of slow climbs and lightening fast plunges over the last year.  I have incredible, sunny days with a great outlook and so much hope, only to be followed by a stretch of days where I have to talk myself out of bed.  It's maddening and so hard to know what is real.

I've slipped back into a dark spot, although I'm determined not to let it become a place of isolation.  I've learned so much, in the past year, about my illness, my reactions to it, and some of the things I can do to combat it.  I don't believe I will ever fall so far as I did this last time.  Instead, I find myself in the torturous circle, questioning every mediocre day as attributable to depression and every bright moment as recovery.

I am aware of my changing moods and that is learned behavior.  Even when numbness creeps in, as I have noticed has happened over the past weeks, I can recognize it.  I'm healthy enough to ask, "What can I do?" rather than to simply succumb and shut down.

The things that make sense for me to do require more motivation to accomplish than I can muster.  This is a common complaint among those with depression.  We know what to do, we just can't manage to get it done.  For example, I know that getting up before the kids and exercising every morning would improve my motivation throughout the day, but getting up before I HAVE to (because my kids aren't yet up to badger me out of bed) seems like an insurmountable chore.

I know that if I could exercise more patience with my children throughout the day, the whole day would be more enjoyable . . . for all of us.  I want to, but I just have such a short fuse.  I want to wake up in a good mood.  I want to play with my kids.  I want to feel satisfied that what I do on any given day is enough.  I want to know that when I have a bad day that it's either just a bad day or it's depression reemerging.

I just don't know and it's a roller coaster.