Yoga

Anything worth doing is worth doing poorly.
Martha Beck

Yoga. It’s something I’ve wanted to try for years, but I found it intimidating. I admire people who use yoga as a spiritual practice, a way to connect to the Source, a way to stay peacefully centered in an increasingly chaotic world. I saw yoga as something for “them”- the spiritual masters, those quiet, Zen-like folks who can meditate for hours on end and seem to be at peace no matter what’s going on outside. Let’s just say that I am not one of “them.” I am addicted to busy- I like having a full calendar, I like getting stuff done. And when I’m not getting stuff done, I am busy making lists of what needs to be done.

Quiet, for me, was tough. When I am quiet, I can’t hide my negative emotions. I can’t get away from myself. Lately I have had to make myself turn off the TV and the radio, shut down the computer and (gasp!) silence my cell phone. I am so used to being over stimulated that the quiet can be overwhelming.

It did get easier. I learned that when I am overly focused on the outside world, I am disconnected from my soul. I have also figured out that reconnecting to my soul can make what’s out there much easier to deal with. I’ve walked in the early evening, when the sunlight shines through the trees and the world is winding down. I’ve sat perfectly still under the big tree in my backyard, hypnotized by the sound of my own breathing. I found that my favorite way to get quiet is to relax in a hot bath full of bubbles- no lights, no music, just silence.

Slowly, the fear of failing at yoga faded away. I read the above quote one evening, and a light bulb went off. I searched online, and I signed up for a level one yoga course being offered at a vo-tech near my house. It’s funny to me that the Universe knows exactly what we need before we need it. My first class was yesterday, and it was just what I needed to de-stress from the emotional rollercoaster of the past few days.

When I first walked in, I saw one of “them.” This woman looked like one of the most peaceful human beings I’ve ever laid eyes on. She quietly arranged her mat, covered her shoulders in a beautiful sari, and started humming as she twisted her body into positions so complex my only thought was “She must be damn good in bed.”

Thankfully, the rest of the class consisted of people like me. We looked around nervously, text messaged friends from our cell phones, fidgeted. As I signed the release form, I thought to myself, “I’m so glad I wore makeup. Hopefully the paramedic who comes to my rescue is hot and single.”

Well, it turned out to be better than I expected. The dim lights, soft music, and soothing voice of the instructor calmed my thoughts, and the tension melted away from my muscles. Some of the poses were difficult (“You want me to put my feet WHERE?”), and I didn’t quite understand the concept of three-part breathing (I was surprised that air was still reaching my lungs in one of the positions) but I am learning to be gentle with myself. I am proud of myself for simply showing up.

Yes, I’m new at it. Yes, I suck at it. And you know what else? I love it.

Bob

“If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together, there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we're apart... I'll always be with you.”

From Winnie the Pooh, by A.A. Milne

Bob and me, Wichita Mountains. June 23, 2007

Remember that entry about perfectionism? That's why I didn't write here for two months. I was afraid that whatever came out wouldn't be good enough. I do this a lot. I give up on things because I am worried that whatever I do won't be okay.

There was so much to tell you about. THE EX, the new house, my career, my incredible summer, things I've learned, the ups and downs. In my purse right now there is a receipt on which I have been scribbling ideas for entries that I just must get out there. The fear kept holding me back. Then finally, today, the desire to share something with you outweighed the worry.

I want to tell you about my friend Bob. Bob is a forty-something, tattooed, pierced, Harley-riding big bear of a guy. I'm a twenty-five year-old kindergarten teacher whose life lately consists of hot baths and good books. We're quite a pair!

Bob is one of the best people I've ever met. It's hard to describe what makes him who he is. What I can say for sure is that once you're in Bob's heart, you're in for good. I have never felt so safe with another human being. When I'm with Bob, I don't worry about which part of myself I'm showing. It's always enough. What a good feeling to be with someone who sees you for who you really are.

Bob is intelligent, open-minded, loving, compassionate, strong, protective, laid-back, hysterically funny. He is the kind of guy you want to be with when you want to laugh, when you've had enough, when you're up, when you're down.

The picture above was taken last weekend. I was needing "Bob time," so I packed my bag and headed to his place on Saturday. As always, we had the best time together. We talked and laughed over dinner at a little Italian restaurant, then he suggested we drive into the nearby mountains. It was absolutely incredible, standing on a mountaintop watching the sunset on one side and the storm brewing on the other. But as always, it was Bob's company that relaxed me, made me smile, made me feel ready to face another day.

I hugged Bob goodbye on Sunday. On Monday morning, he had a heart attack. I wasn't aware of that yet, so I sent him a few text messages that went unanswered. I wasn't too concerned, because I assumed he was at work and had left his cell phone at home. Early Monday evening, I received an e-mail from his ex-wife with the subject line "Bob- EMERGENCY." My stomach did flips as I called her and heard the news.

I drove to my best friend Tara's house, and we made the drive to the hospital together. We were told that he was okay, so we weren't terribly concerned. We shared funny memories on the drive, and we laughed about some of the adventures we'd experienced in the company of Bob. We were confident that he was going to be fine, but I cannot describe the overwhelming relief I felt when I saw Bob's smiling face. It was as if I had been holding my breath since I had read the e-mail, and I was finally breathing again.

We only stayed a few minutes that night. We knew he needed his rest. I wasn't prepared for what the next day would bring. I feel silly saying that, telling you about this horrible day I had when my friend had a friggin' heart attack.

So I'll address this to Bob directly- I cannot imagine how you felt or what you were thinking. I just want you to know that I felt like I had the wind knocked out of me all day on Tuesday. It was not knowing, not knowing if you were in pain, if you would have to undergo surgery, if you needed me there. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. In bed last night, I missed you more than I have ever missed anyone. My heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest. Seeing you this morning was a huge relief. I have never been so happy to see that smiling face of yours.

Bob, I know that what I went through was nothing compared to what you experienced. You are going to be okay. You are always going to have people in your life who love you, care for you, admire you, and light up when you smile. No matter what challenges life throws at you, you're going to be just fine. Take care of that heart of yours, mister.

When we last talked before all of this, I told you that I couldn't imagine life without you in it. Thank god I don't have to.

Thought of the Day

This is proof that God is madly in love with us.

Photo taken by Barbara Matthews, 2005.