Reset.
Reboot.
Recalibration.
Restart.
Re - re - re - re -
I'm still struggling to put last week into words. To understand what happened in my body, my mind, my heart.
I felt utterly betrayed by my body whilst feeling deep down that I'd been the one doing the betraying.
What with all my lazy park picnics of chocolate and pig fat and wine.
(instead of vegetables and protein and a consistent yoga practice)
I felt utterly betrayed by my mind whilst feeling deep down that I'd been the one doing the betraying.
What with all my daydreaming with googlemaps and dilly-dallying with social media.
(instead of focusing on anatomy and philosophy and maintaining my meditation)
I felt utterly betrayed by my heart whilst feeling deep down that I'd been the one doing the betraying.
What with all my insecurities about my body and my frustrations about my abilities and my doubts about my potential.
(instead of gratefully accepting criticism without internalizing and celebrating the triumph of others without comparing)
Betrayal.
That is the theme of last week.
With each aspect of my being shaking an upset finger at all the others.
Usually the middle one.
(sometimes I forget that I'm actually a whole person rather than bits and pieces that can be divided and subdivided and dissected into minutia that can then be disassociated from "me")
Yoga became difficult last week. Yoga lost its playful, healing, soothing nature. It became a trial that highlighted my insecurities and forced me to wallow in them, through them in front of people who appeared to be soaring high above the mud.
Sparkly clean.
Last week wasn't really about enjoying where I was at.
(perhaps all the time spent upside-down brought up the deep down feelings)
"Come on, this is day four! You should be able to jump by now!" an instructor "encouraged" me to jump into star when a scissors kick was what felt comfortable.
Should? since when has "should" been part of yogic vocabulary?
My tripod arms collapsed and I sank deeper into the mud.
Squish
Squash
Squelch
The yoga studio had a mirror.
I spent a lot of last week hating my reflection.
Feeling like I didn't belong (in a kicked puppy sort of way).
Feeling guilt whenever I asked someone to be my partner (because I knew I'd be a disappointment).
Positivity was hard last week.
What can I do better?
...
Everything.
*sigh*
What will I do better?
...
What I can.
...
There's not a lot of can left in me, at the moment. I think I've completely exhausted my supply of self-esteem and am running on fumes leftover from my students on Vis.
Where are my feet pointing? Am I living a life that prioritizes yoga and health?
Nope.
....
What absurd expectations you have of yourself, Bourget. You're walking east and looking for a sunset. Even you know that's the wrong direction.
All the hands of all my parts put away their middle fingers.
Fair enough.
Up until now, travel has been the focus of my life and yoga has been a fabulous incidental.
If you want to see the sunset, yoga will have to be the focus of your life with travel as the fabulous incidental.
...
Okay.
I haven't wanted to take pictures this week. My Nikon spent the majority of its time in my red backpack which spent the majority of its time in my locker at River Park Dance Studio.
Michael would say that a photograph captures a lesson -- but if you're distracted with adjusting the settings, you miss part of what life is trying to teach you while the image is coming into focus.
I was present for my lesson.
And I'm changing my direction.
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