Falling in Love

Disclaimer: Sorry if the formating is a little wonky. I’m on my parent’s computer which doesn’t have WORD, so I had to write everything up Note Pad. Fancy, huh?

I wasn’t sure how to break it to you guys. I’m an open book, and it’s not like my Facebook/real friend world doesn’t know what’s going on, but I like to tread lightly with sharing certain things online, especially if the other party will see it and feel

A.) Awkward

B.) Hurt

C.) Confused

D.) Embarrassed

E.) Put off

F.) All of the above

G.) All of the above and then some.

A few weeks ago Chris and I broke up. Well,  to be fair, I broke up with him. A lot of my other break ups back in high school were emotional and volatile. The boys would gang up on me, call me bitch, cunt, whore, and then proceed to make my life at the tiny boarding school a little slice of hell. Yikes! So with this amicable breakup (well, amicable as any break up can really be) I was a bit put off. What do you mean two people can have a fair amount of respect for each other, still cohabit the same place, etc, etc? Geesh, I guess that’s how grown-ups and level minded people do stuff. Weird.

Moving on a little, I kind of rebounded with this guy from work. And it was cool. Splendid. A little weird. Dates over drinks. First silent treatments. First sleepovers. I was moving slowly. And then he told me he was moving to Texas to forge a new life with his best friend. So, I guess you could consider that another mini break up,  which meant  it was time for me to: “Imma do me” for awhile. Sigh. I cried a lot. Moving was stressful.  Saying goodbye to this new boy I had some new feelings for was sad. But I refuse to resign myself to a pints of Ben and Jerry’s, post-breakup(s) depression, and obsessive behavior that only leads to burn out and then, well, a repeating cycle. I’m deciding I need to fall in love again. Not with a person, though, or even really myself, because I certainly love that a lot (mayhaps a little too much– giggle), but with an activity. You know, deepen a hobby.

Naturally, it only made sense to fall more in love with yoga, because frankly I’ve been off the Namaste wagon  due to injury and fear. Why fear, you ask? Well, contrary to prior belief, it is really
hard to block out all thoughts in yoga, and when encouraged to fixate on one thing we (or at least I)
tend to fixate on the most pressing negative thing in life. I was scared to find myself in
Supta Kurmasana *, bound up tightly, while dealing with all the thoughts that have been swirling around in the brain case. Shudder.  Crying in front of everyone wasn’t an option, and crying during self practice seemed even worse. In case you haven’t noticed, I take my pride very seriously.  But this is what you’re supposed to do when your life changes, be it break ups, loss of job, loss of person,  etc, etc. You need to pick yourself up by whatever strands you can and better yourself. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, and hiding from the preconceived “what ifs”, pull on your big kid undies, flounder a little and feel fabulous on the good days.

As tempting as it is to jump into a traditional six-day a week ashtanga practice, I know it’s a recipe
for physical disaster, like when you decide after not running for four months to get up and run 3 miles. So, I’m going to start slow. A little ashtanga here,  a little vinyasa there, some ancient texts and deep study of anatomy, lots of handstands sprinkled in, and many afternoons contemplating life and my center of gravity, while editing away at that yoga book I need to start ASAP.

Not going to lie, people, I’m scared. And I’m scared, because I don’t get scared often. I’m scared
because this is something I’m doing JUST for me. I mean, I eat well mainly for myself, but it makes
me feel good. But work: that pay’s the bills and an inkling of me does it to make my family proud.
No one is really going to care if I fail or succeed at this endeavour expect for me.

Life is changing. I only have myself to answer to, which is both liberating and strange, seeing as
I spent  2 years (yes, two very wonderful years) making decisions with someone else. But I have a year to cement this in my life, so when I graduate and choose someplace to move, I’ll
have something to wakeup to in the morning, to dedicate a part of my life to, and pass on to others. Not as great as a morning romp, but a very, very close second

Thanks for listening to me ramble. I hope everyone is having a lot less to think about in their life!
Peel Away ❤


*Pfft, I wish my Supta Kurm. looked that tight and relaxed. Some day!