Dating a Yoga Goddess

I bring you...the coolest freakin' article EVER written.

As I read, I swear I read myself between every line. No wonder I'm single again - it's going to take a rare breed to join me on my cloud.

Without any more delay...Dating a Yoga Goddess. Care of Namaste, Bitches

The Text is the New Post-It

Almost as admirable and stand-up as Jack Berger's post-it or maybe just a sign of the times.

There is actually a t-shirt that reads: "I'm sorry, I can't, don't hate me."

I'm going to buy that shirt as an inside joke with myself - as my reminder that I will never go back.

Mind over Matter: A Pep Talk

So...I'm going to shake this whole break-up thing. Mind over matter, right? Nothing to it...I. Got. This.

I'm kind of a bad ass - somewhat untouchable and unshakable. And by that, I don't mean that I'm abrasive or insensitive or out of touch with my fellow kind but I know what I move through this world with and I know what I bring to those I care for, human beings in general even. I know what I'm made of and I know what I've got - quiet power.

I don't apologize for my strength and I don't back down from what I believe - I'm a 'take me or leave me' sort with a to-die-for poker face. She will soon be a distant memory, just another pretty face.

I lost a bit of my essence in the relationship - I won't give details out of respect for her, for what we had worthy of celebrating and primarily because I intend to move through this with grace and dignity.

I refuse to make her look bad and I will try not to diminish the depth of our love but that doesn't mean I'm not going to approach this with the same determination I bring to every facet of my life, every challenge I have ever had.

As I sit here and compose this post, I'm tapping back into that part of me - the spunky little force to be reckoned with...this is my reclaiming, my coming out...again.

Watch out world, watch out ladies - I'm feeling frisky.

And so long as I believe it - then it shall be true *sigh*.

We are so over, we need a new word for over...

Carrie Bradshaw said this in one of the most memorable episodes of Sex and the City, at least most memorable for me.

She had tired of being a masochist - and I guess, so have I.

The break-up has really been happening over the course of three months - A LOT of painful back and forth, each of us daring more and more invectives and each of us stretching the other beyond comfort, asking far more than we have the right to ask of any human being...much less the one we aim to share a life with.

How love - a beautiful, caring, doting, attentive, gracious love can turn so spiteful, so bitter, so sour, so fast blows my little mind.

The reality of this finality is sobering...stunning and quite frankly, long overdue...perhaps for both of us. Dare we ever settle for love? I will refrain from answering that question, as one who has recently decided she will not yet sits outside the circle of the 'coupled' - I recognize that I am not the best source of knowledge on this one.

But this I know, like I know the sun will rise tomorrow morning just like it has every morning of the last 8 months, we are, indeed, so over, we need a new word for over.

Rosi Golan - Been A Long Day

It's been a long day and all I've got to say is make it strong.

It's been a long day and all I've got to say is I've been wrong.

So take a leave of absence, tell me you'll be gone, I don't want to see your face.

It's been a long day and I just wanna hide away.

It's been a long week and all the lines come down heavy on me.

It's been a long week, I'm finally feeling like it's ok to break,

Into a thousand pieces, no one can replace, only I can find my way.

It's been a long day and I just wanna hide away.

It's been a long year and everyone around me has disappeared.

It's been a long year all this mess around me is finally clear,

So can I have a moment? Just to say hello. Can you let your anger go?

It's been a long year and I'm finally ready to be here.

Sampling Joy

At the base of a tree warmed by the filtered sunlight, I anchor my own body to a deeper source by way of the gnarled and knobby root I sit upon.

Around me, bodies move - some led by the instruction of the teacher, some by a deeper wisdom in their own bodies.

It feels sacred here - as if the space is blessed or protected, and because of that my pain cannot take root and spread throughout my insides...not here.

I am sampling joy today - breakfast with a friend at a local coffee house, a bike ride with various stops, pauses for and of joy, one of which brings us here (we call them our mini-adventures). She practices with the other bodies and I find solace in their space with my words and my thoughts.

As I sit under the protective guard of this tree, I am listening to Jason Mraz's Mr. Curiosity on a loop. There is an operatic interlude in the song that penetrates me, shaking my core and beckoning me from my sadness or sealing my fate - I'm not quite sure which.

Are you killing me curiosity? Dare I even stick around to see how this goes or should I close the deal, knowing that my fragile heart cannot be wrecked again.

More than that, how did I get here? I could have stood on the banks of certainty, instead of looking for or cultivating love - this great mystery. A mystery that should have remained shrouded - out of reach, unbeknown. I got to say, I'm not sure I would change a thing...she filled me - once.

But now, because I dared the great mystery, I am broken and left with the pieces that no longer fit because she took with her parts of my original self.

Her words that night play over and over in a loop in my mind, stirring any hint of stagnation in my emotional pit, the space left unsettled with stillness an impossible desire.

After we left yoga in the park, we sampled joy elsewhere in our little neighborhood - coloring with friends, eating ice cream in the same park we visited for yoga, creating a Peace mural out of found natural and not so natural pieces of the park, we shopped our little neighborhood shops - on and off the bikes...moving, on the go...no time for pain, no time for thoughts.

I am numbing myself in order to save myself - I can't feel it yet...not yet.

Numb...or resolved?

I have surprised myself with the fact that I am calm...calm because I am numb - I feel unable to feel.

Happiness is lost on me and sadness futile...I am succombing to a dark haze.

I am afraid that I am resolved in my decision - a decision that I never wanted to make but somehow knew I must.

All we can do is keep breathing...all I can do is keep breathing.

I think that...somehow, the breath is my tether to present...however I show up.

The above line, 'all I can do is...' is from an Ingrid Michaelson song. Music is my refuge - I really cling to good lyrics and when I listen to Ingrid's music, I trust her with my pain because I can hear her own.

One of her songs repeats 'I just wanna be ok' another 'I want to change the world but I sleep...' and there is 'the sky looks pissed, the wind talks back...my bones are shifting in my skin and you my love are gone.'

Her music can hold my pain because, at times, it's the place from which she sings - she opens herself, exposing the rawness of her experience.

I will level out and come back into my equilibrium...I must.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Myra St,Jacksonville,United States

Pocket of Peace

"...life may be best measured in tastes rather than meals, in minutes rather than lifetimes..."

I read this in a Yoga International article today while hanging out with children at a bookstore.

I am seeking out the tastes and reveling in the minutes right now - it's all I can do.

My relationship has taken a drastic turn, we have created our demise somewhere along the way...setting it up, and in turn ourselves, to fail.

I feel as if I have too much going on in my life right now to mourn. I have two children who have been unfairly marginalized while my attention and most of my free time went to my relationship. I have an amazing job that I love, that inspires and challenges me daily. And most recently, I have begun planning my re-entry into academia.

So I mourn in tastes, I cry in minutes because I still believe my life is golden - I have been moved from my center by the demands of a relationship that ultimately broke my heart with my spirit.

I thought she was my future...thought she was the rocking chair beside mine on the porch of our later life, the mother of our 'one day' child, the home and haven for my fears, dreams, hopes, loves and wonders...I thought she was the end of my search.

I listened to a Jason Mraz song earlier..."Plane" and he sings with such a love, an adoration for the woman he sings for...it hit me last night, as she screamed at me, face red from fury, she doesn't even like me.

This realization is the only thing I have right now as my bulwark.

So I walk with my children and talk with my children, finding pockets - pockets of peace, pockets of pain...pockets of experience so that it all becomes manageable until I can stand again.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Big Island,Jacksonville,United States

Whispers

"In the stillness of the quiet, if we listen, we can hear the whisper of the heart giving strength to weakness, courage to fear, hope to despair..." ~ Howard Thurman

Every time I still my mind with my practice or with my breath or the simple awareness that I summon from within...I seek this whisper - listening for it to guide me and heal me along my path.

Life is interesting - the relationships we forge here are more telling as they serve our deeper understanding of self, who we are as individuals but more so, who we are to others (with them, for them).

I have always likened my children to mirrors - upon their birth, living as if a mirror were before me reflecting every thing - every word, every action, every loving and not so loving expression, I have met my edge and gripped it with ferocity, with determined white fingertips clinging to all that I know and never will.

My truth is deeper now and I see every relationship I am a part of serving as my mirror - casting back the raw interplay of the human dance.

May I cultivate the strength to never look away from that reflection, may I honor the whisper of my heart as it nudges me toward authenticity...for myself but also for those I love and cherish.