Happy Hayride

My cheeks hurt.

My friends and I signed up to go on a hayride and campfire outing at a farm, this evening. I was driving and sent out a note to meet at the metro station at 5:25. One of the three misread the email and called me at 5:15 to ask where I was. Just as I got there to pick her up on time, we got a text from another one saying she was running late. In fact, she was still at home. The third called to tell us she had forgotten something and was on her way back to her apartment to pick it up. We were going to miss the boat…er…hayride. Also, it looked like it was going to rain.

What ensued involved some crazy coordination, picking people up on corners, speeding down back streets and refreshing the event page to make sure it wasn’t canceled due to inclement weather, even as we were racing against the clock. Somehow we made it there just before the hayride and the other 30 people we were going with left. It was raining, but with jackets and umbrellas, this was still happening.

They hayride bumped along around the farm and we were occasionally greeted by Halloween decorations or gussied up scarecrows. The rain continued off and on while we idly chatted. By the time we got back, we were half soaked from the drizzle and chilled. The campfire was a welcome site. There were hot dogs and s’mores and wine. We intermittently huddled under umbrellas around the campfire and the small tent where the food was. 

Ok, so it wasn’t the best night to have this event that we barely made. And I can think of so many reasons why we’d feel grumpy or want to leave or not go at all. But here’s the thing. No one complained. Everyone was chatty and happy to be there, despite the circumstances. We ate, we drank, we took crazy pictures. There were lots of jokes about wieners and buns on sticks (there’s something about a campfire that brings out the inner twelve year old) and marveling at the colors of the darkened night sky. Most of all there was laughter. We laughed about our crazy car antics, about not getting there on time, about the rain and wet hay, about the heat of the fire and at each other.

Tonight reminds me that attitude accounts for so much of our experiences in life. We can think ourselves miserable or we can accept what is and go forward, anyway.

Invert

I didn’t sleep last night at all and I spent the early hours this morning puttering around my apartment like a zombie. It took a lot of determination (and caffeine) to get me to yoga. Practice was surprisingly ok. But it wasn’t until we did headstands that it got truly zen. I love being upside down.  For someone who has trouble standing on one foot, I can balance fairly easily on the top of my head. And the pressure of the ground on the top of my oh-so-tired head felt remarkably lovely, this morning. 

They say that inversions positively influence all the systems in your body. You heart works a little less to get oxygenated blood to your brain. Glands are stimulated and fluid accumulation drains from your legs and feet. They say that minutes spent upside down equates to hours of sleep. But somehow inversions are more than this for me. It literally changes my perspective and in doing so helps me get past mental and emotional blocks. Maybe it has to do with stimulating my chakras, but I find the mind chatter quiet down and a certain undefinable me-ness emanate. Like coming home to myself.

I found such a sense of peace in headstand this morning that I seriously considered just staying there for the rest of class. My sleep-deprived brain had this crazy thought that there would be far less violence and chaos in this world if we spent more time on our heads. Even now, post-nap, I’m not sure I’m wrong. 

TGIF

I’m a fairly active person. While I don’t go crazy with it, I tend to have some sort of physical activity on most days of the week. But on Friday, I rest. I take a break from the gym and wake up a little later in the morning. I leave work a little early and do something social or just relax. And while I truly enjoy yoga, swimming, pole and even working out at the gym, there is something to be said for not exerting myself at all. Because Fridays are like dessert. As great as your meal might be, it’s that sweet little something at the end that leaves you smiling with satisfaction.

Dream Me

I had a dream last night that I was getting ready for a show of sorts. I was assuming a costume, dressing as someone else. People handed me clothes that were a style I’d never choose and put them on. I obliged them and they told me how wonderful I looked and didn’t I think so, too? I smiled and said yes.  They helped me to curl my hair and took sections of it in their hands to color in shades of pink and red. I would look just like her, they told me. I smiled and said yes. Next came the make up. Three shades lighter than my skin tone and thick enough to cover it completely. They powered my face and lined my eyelids and rouged my cheeks. As the stained my lips, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Except it was not myself, but a different person entirely. They eyes looking at me held something familiar, but the rest was unrecognizable. Beautiful, they told me. I smiled and said yes.

I went on stage, sat in a chair and the lights dimmed. The music started and I realized they expected me to sing. But I could not sing. Though those who looked on believed me to be this someone else, my voice was not trained as hers was. What was inside was not what they were expecting and as soon as I opened my mouth they would know.

I ran off stage, Ran to the bathroom, dry heaving. My hands were frantic as they searched for the sink, turning on the water and splashing water into my face. Desperately, I scrubbed away the make up, watching the colors swirl down the sink. I brushed out my hair and tore off the finery in which I was dressed. 

I walked back on stage then. My hair a mess, my face bare and dressed only in a slip. I looked out to the audience, daring them to comment, to yell, to hurl insults, to walk out. I was not who they wanted, who they asked to see. I opened my mouth. Not to sing, but to speak. To tell them of who I was, my humble story, and what I had to offer. I was quiet at first, but as I spoke my voice grew louder until I was shouting. I moved across the stage, gesticulating with my entire body to emphasize each point, dancing as I felt compelled to. This was me. All of me. Like me or not, but I was real. And I was enough. More than enough. I was essence. I was truth.

The Other Leg

I love yoga for its consideration of the whole body. I tend to favor concentrating on “working” one body part at a time. Stretching my hamstrings or strengthening my core. Yoga challenges me to broaden my scope and be mindful of the holistic view. 

This came to mind today when doing Half Moon (Ardha Chandrasana). The tendency is to focus on the standing foot and hand which are on the floor and helping you to balance. Such is the concentration on these two points of contact that you can look around the room and see many with the other foot sagging limply and the opposing arm wavering at half-mast. But in the true expression of this pose, both feet are engaged, both arms are charged.

 I tend to be quite flexible in my back and one would think that backbends are easy for me. Yet my teacher is constantly correcting me to tighten my core and pull in my lower ribs. This makes Wheel (Urdhva Dhanurasana) quite challenging in a completely different way. I’ve often grumbled that one of my instructors makes a simple Crescent Moon (Anjaneyasana) rather agonizing. It’s not enough to bend the front knee, but there are the squared hips, rooted tailbone, shoulders and core to consider. And let’s not forget that back leg.

Time Well Spent

So the idea of balance continues to come up. Today one of my friends commented that she felt like she’s wasted several years of her life because she’s not in a relationship. I pointed out that in those past several years she’s completely changed careers. She quit her job in advertising to get trained as a yoga instructor. She has built up her credentials and is not only teaching kids yoga but is goes around the country training other instructors how to teach specialized yoga classes. She also suffered a major and complicated illness which took a long time to properly diagnose and which she eventually had to have surgery for. Her life hasn’t been idle. 

But, I know what she means.

We only have so much time in our lives. I, for one, tend to get excessive in some areas of my life and leave other areas neglected altogether until the scream for attention. I’ll lose myself in work completely until I am having dreams of about my coworkers turning into vampires. I’ll sign up for multiple online dating sites and have to keep a spreadsheet to get names and details right. Or I’ll huddle down in my Bat Cave until friends start calling me Snuffleupagas. It’s a problem.

Right now I’m filling my calendar with too much. I’m going to fitness classes, taking Tamil 

lessons and going out with friends. All of these are great. Except, I have no “free” time.  For example, today a guy I met a couple of weeks ago discussed getting together, last week. But I literally didn’t have a single free night until maybe the second week in October, if something falls through. You could get some doctor’s appointments easier than a date with me. 

Here’s the problem. I am not leaving room for new opportunities to enter my life. It takes more energy for me to meet new people than hanging out with those I care for. I haven’t been giving to myself and spending enough time restoring my energy to do this. Nor have I truly been connecting with people when I spend time with them because I have little to give.  And then I wonder why I’ve been feeling so lonely.

So, maybe the whole feng shui/if-you-build-it-they-will-come approach is needed. Leaving gaps in my schedule for new opportunities. Or some much needed quality Me Time.