Peeved and Corrupt -- Vis, Croatia

It's dark outside the small kitchen window.

F*ck. 
 
I missed the sunset again.

I hate missing sunsets.

I missed the sunrise again.

I hate missing sunrises.

I missed most of the in-between. 

I'm missing so many moments.

Because I'm here. Sitting at the desk. Type, type, typing nonsense. Clickety clacking about my personal realizations and driveling on about my drama.

Or I'm there. Listening to a master yogi tell me how peacock pose prevents poisoning.

Good grief. Some of this stuff is just... absurd. Driving your elbows into your chest to cure poisoning? Cranking bones into positions no bones were designed to go? Sitting for hours at a time? Telling newbies to yoga that they need to constrict their vaginas when they exhale to engage their mula bandha? Never, EVER tell a newbie to constrict her vagina.

I'm no longer starstruck by Domagoj. I recognize and respect him as an encyclopedia of knowledge, but I just can't handle all the "No one does this posture correctly in modern yoga. This. This is yoga. This is how it is done. Yes, this is the true way it is done." I sit in his class, try to be open-minded about his very traditional style of yoga and am merely told that what I practice is a "corruption" of yoga.

If people are treating themselves with loving kindness and sensitivity in that moment, then they are practicing yoga. Real yoga.

I'm in a foul mood. 

I'm also realizing just how addicted I am to this blog.

I still need it so much.

I need to feel like I can reach out and touch people. I need to feel connected. Connected in a way that doesn't change month after month, day after day.

This blog. This trivial little piece of writing is the one thing that remains consistent in my life.

I can't let it go. Even though all I want to do is go for a quiet walk through the hills, letting my mind escape from my body and just feeling the earth. Without thinking about how I'll describe it later. 

I'm tired.

The day was long.

So, so long.

I'm angry. I'm frustrated.

For the last three days, I've been sitting in positions that have given me nothing but pain. For the last three days, I've been allowing insult after insult slide off my aching shoulders.

But tonight, I'm feeling somewhat supersaturated.

I'm just f*cking peeved.

But I'm a yoga teacher (of fake yoga, apparently). I guide meditations. I play like a child.

I'm not allowed to be f*cking peeved.

Breathe it out. Let it go. 

No. I want to shout. I want to cry. I want to curl up in a little ball and pound my fists and thump my heels. 

Yes. I want a good ol' tantrum. I want to tantrum like a child.

I haven't even been in Croatia for two weeks... and I'm utterly exhausted. I gave so much on the last retreat... and ever bit of giving felt natural and needed. 

But I feel like there's not much left for today. 

It all feels so trite when compared to this evening's sunset.

Which I didn't see because I was consumed with my triteness. 
 
What am I missing by being here? In this room?

I want to be outside. I want to be running up mountains. Exploring the island. Listening to the birds.

I'm here.

At the desk.

The sun has set.

Perhaps I'll see the stars tonight.