Prop Master

I usually walk into my yoga classes about a minute before they are about to start, after most of the students have already settled in. They lie on their mats, with their blocks, blankets and straps arranged neatly next to them. I find a place to squeeze into and roll out my mat. And sit on it. Our teachers tend to stroll in late, so it’s not that I don’t have time to get props out of the cabinets. I just never do. “I rarely need them,” I think, “so I’ll just make do.” And if the teacher calls for props and I absolutely, positively require one, well then I’ll give in and get one. Otherwise, it’s just one more thing to put back at the end of class. This usually is an ok operating procedure until I’m pissed off in Pigeon and don’t know what to do with myself.

I tend to be a giver in most of my relationships. Friends call me when they have problems, I help them out when they need it, and I like to do little things to let them know I care. I’m a caretaker, but this is comfortable to me. Until it isn’t. Right now, it isn’t. I had four friends who needed a lot of support this past summer. They were going through issues that weren’t of their own devising and the least I could do was be there for them. I really empathized with what they were going through and it felt good to help. Now, thank goodness, they are all on the mend. But in recent weeks, I’ve been avoiding them. I don’t want to hear about another problem. I don’t want to give any more advice on what they should or shouldn’t do. I don’t want to pick them up from the metro station and give them rides. I don’t even want to hear about how much better they are doing. I’m pissed off and I don’t know what to do with myself. 

I feel bad for feeling so uncharitable and I know I got myself here. I’m feeling somewhat resentful and taken advantage of, even though rationally, I know rationally I haven’t been. I forgot to take care of myself. I forgot to maintain healthy boundaries. I forgot to account for my own needs and see that they be met. I put myself in a position without props. I allowed them to pull at me, just as gravity does in yoga, thinking I could handle it. And I could. But just because I can technically handle something without it breaking me, doesn’t mean it I should do it. Sometimes, the best thing not only for my immediate well-being, but for my long-term strength and practice, is to bolster myself. To rest or accept external assistance. To realize that even Wonder Woman needs her gadgets to help her fight crime.

Right now, I’m taking the time to focus on me for a bit and spending time with other friends. I’m also trying to not pull back from those friends who were leaning heavily this past summer, but to experiment with leaning on them to help me through.

Two Types of Friends

There are some friends that take a lot of work. They need constant attention and tending to and get hurt at the smallest of what they see as slights on your part. Unless you are on your death bed, you better not even think of changing plans with them.  These are not the ones to call when you are feeling cranky or selfish or down. It’s not that they won’t listen to you. They’ll listen. For awhile. Then tell you about everything their going through. Say you broke up with a boy the night before. This type of friend will share the juiciest detail about her most recent beau for your hearing pleasure. Not because they are cruel, but they don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to hear them prattle on for a half hour about their romantic successes at that particular moment. You’ll never hear the end of it. Some might say that these aren’t friends at all. But the world isn’t black and white and neither are people. These friends may be in your circle because of a variety of redeeming traits that allow you to put up with the heavy lifting their friendship requires. 

But then there are the friends that are a delight to be around. They are the ones you can call up at the last minute to make or change plans based on how you both feel. You haven’t talked in a month because life got away from your (again) but within minutes you are giggling like school girls. They show genuine interest in your life, just as you do in theirs. You both get excited for them just as you would for your own self. These are the friends that you decide to go last minute Saturday morning day trip with on a Friday night. So what if it’ll take you three hours there and back? You can’t wait for the chance to chat in the car. 

Like most people, I have both types of friends in my life. I bought tickets three months ago to see one of my favorite bands this coming week with my attention-heavy friend. And I have to be honest and admit I’m not looking forward to it nearly as much as my impromptu day trip to the beach tomorrow with my easier friend. But, I do value them both and the former does help me to appreciate the latter all the more.

That Day

Yesterday was one of those days. I didn’t sleep at all Friday night, only managing to conk out about an hour before my morning yoga class. I woke up an hour later. Class had already started. Some people would roll over and go back to sleep, but I was determined to get my yoga fix that morning. There was a class in about 30 minutes. Not with my favorite instructor, but it would have to do. I could make it. I jumped out of bed and that’s how my day started. It never really stopped until near midnight.

The yoga teacher was a guy who was notorious for making you work. And work we did. Surprisingly, even after next to no sleep, I held up pretty well. I walked out of class feeling accomplished. I decided to go home, have breakfast and maybe take a nap. Not to be. My mom called saying that my father needed help with some chores around their house. My parents ask for so very little, I figured they were worth my nap’s delay. I grabbed a bite and headed over. I climbed up ladders and swept and cleaned for a bit, sat and chatted for a few before hopping into my car to grab my much needed nap. Not to be. One of my good friends is going through a divorce. She called, sounding awful, saying she needed a ride. I picked her up and was dismayed to see she had lost even more weight since the last time I saw her. I bought her food and tried to encourage her to eat while we talked before dropping her at the metro. Checked the clock and no time for a nap. I ran home to get ready before heading out for dinner with my girls. I went a couple of stops to meet a friend so we could head into the city together, but the metro line was down. We went back to my station, hopped in my car. Better to drive than wait for the busses. Seems like everyone had the same idea. We were a half hour late to meet my other two friends, but luckily they had a table for us. We had just sat down when we were told that the computers were down and they were only accepting cash. One by one we left to go to the ATM.

Dinner was wonderful. We ate, we drank, we laughed and we thoroughly enjoyed each others’ company. The day’s antics and my sleep deprivation slipped away as my friends shared their energy with me. I realized that though it had been one of those days, it hadn’t really gotten to me. Normally, I would have felt exhausted and mildly resentful. Definitely grumpy. But this time was different. It made me feel rather good to be there for my family and my friends, regardless of how tired I was. I just enjoyed the moment, letting what I had planned slip away and accepting what was. Not bad. 

Let's Connect

Late this past week, I was in a nobody-loves-me state of mind. I had a lot of social goings on during the week, but still felt neglected. This all culminated into a deep funk on Friday. A boy I had a date with earlier in the week hadn’t contacted me, a friend had impulsively invited me to a group dinner then realized she had spoken too soon, I tried to get to a happy hour I was invited to and was thwarted by massive traffic, and a couple of my close friends were out of town. I was blue. I knew I was loved and had great friends, but it didn’t feel that way. As often happens, my mind went down the rabbit path to getting older, being single and growing more and more alone until I was completely forgotten. The end.

Saturday morning, I went to yoga. I was a little sulky, but knew it would make me feel better. Sure enough, as I moved through my asanas, a forgotten lesson resurfaced. 

It wasn’t what I was getting, but what I was giving. Over the past week, I had been physically going out with people and spending time. I was expending energy on this, but I wasn’t feeling anything back. It was like eating candy. I was getting the sugar, but not the nutrition needed to sustain me. Not because it wasn’t there, but because I wasn’t investing. I wasn’t truly connecting. I was there in body and mind, but I left my heart at home. And because it was at home, it wasn’t getting fed. So by Friday, it was starving.

After yoga, I spent some time talking with a couple of wonderful women who practice with me and I could feel my energy shift. We didn’t talk of anything profound, but it was healing. I could feel their nourishment because I was giving to them from a deeper place. I was present with them. Saturday night, I went to a party. This can be a little stressful for me. I appear to be very social and extroverted, but I can get rather overwhelmed and be self-critical. But, I had a wonderful time. When I felt myself wander, I was mindful to bring myself back to being there and connecting. 

I’ve noticed that when my mindset changes, so do my circumstances. My friends told me they missed me, the boy called and I’ve been collecting hugs. Even had this not been the case, my heart is content.