staring contests with my cat in downward dog

I can’t speak for anyone but myself here obviously, but this is my take on a particular issue:

Yoga.

Oh yes. Wonderful yoga that turns its adherents from clumsy ducklings to ethereal swans.

If that’s what it’s supposed to do I’ve certainly missed the memo.

There’s days… as in days I’m not following a video where it goes ok, I manage to do dancers pose (the wimpy kind, thank you) without teetering and knocking something over.

Then there’s those other days when I’m *trying* to follow along with a video.

“Okay now breathe into (insert crazy pose I’ve never heard of)” says the instructor on the screen, while I lose my balance, fall on my ass, and watch her go from one contortion to another effortlessly. I purse my lips and say “yeah, you go girl” as I watch stunned and annoyed wondering now how the hell? Still having not gotten back up from my thirteenth fall.

I know. Big time first world problem.

Says a lot though, doesn’t it?

Meaning everyone, provided you’re not living in some blissful black hole that cloisters you from society (I dream of that some days) is probably being bombarded with a variety of messages about what you should be. It differs from person to person, either way they are ideals that represent where we’d like to be but are no where near. On the one hand that can be a great thing! A wonderful little fire to place under your rear when you’re in dire need of motivation. On the other? Discouraging, especially if you’ve been trying a lot to make things better. Why? You’re. Fucking. Exhausted. You want to not try, throw in the towel, and sleep.

Me and my mom talk a lot on the phone. She’s one of those people whom I can’t fully understand, nor can she fully understand me, but we’re there for each other as much as we can be. And she’s awesome. This lady has gone through so. much. shit. But you’d never know it by her smile or her personality, things that would devastate most she’s gotten through and though she’s shed her share of tears she’s glad to be alive. After years of fighting foreclosure on the family home, job loss upon job loss, and a great many other struggles she’s finally in a good place. She’s got a home she loves and a job where people love her and what she does (yes I’m proud). On the phone she’s telling me “yeah, I’m happy, but I’m so damn lazy, it’s frustrating”.

All I could say to that was this; “Mom. I think you need to get used to peace.” She thought about it a little and in her cute, cheerful way nodded.

We’re always told to work hard, hustle, if you don’t like where you’re at then get to work! Yes, there’s some truth to that.

Yet again, maybe where the real struggle lies is the addiction to chaos; if we aren’t running our asses off for something we feel like we aren’t doing enough when really? All we have to do is pour ourselves a cup of coffee and watch the sun rise, take in the fact that maybe we aren’t where we want to be but we’re a lot better off than we might have been in the past. If you aren’t the day will come, but still, it’s okay to breathe.

And breathe I shall, after I shut the yoga instructor up by closing out the tab and just settle for downward dog. 😛

I wrote this before I woke up

I glare at the computer through my prescription Rayban glasses, you know, like all the cool little hipster girls- except in no universe could I ever be pinned for one. The individual who types at this laptop, smoking her cigarette and hoping she remembers to ash in the tray and not accidentally in her morning coffee feels like 100% undiluted dork. All those pretty self-portraits? (thanks to the work of some very nice filters) are me after I’ve had time to wake up.

I’m still waking up, and I look like a homeless person.

Just wanted to write. This past week was exhausting in some wonderful and hard ways, each taking their turn on a little roller coaster. If I sound like a drama queen, maybe that’s because I am. In my defense, when you face things alone more often than not, things can feel a lot more tumultuous than if you had someone holding your hand through it. Yes it’s self-inflicted, no this is not some desperate plea across the web for someone to “please love me”. God no I’m fine.

Probably the hardest part about this past week is a realization I keep slamming my head against- that though your best intentions may inform your decisions, the people on the other end will not necessarily understand where you’re coming from. People are going to interpret things however they wish or best suits their worldview. Even as I try to express my heart for someone, it doesn’t mean they’re going to get the message.

This has been the case most often with (gulp) my family. Every relationship has an element of this that takes its turn going one way or the other, but when you can work it out that’s when you know you have a treasure in someone. In a perfect world everyone loves each other and gets along, in a perfect world your family is the one who has your back no matter what kind of shit is going down or around. But we all know the world isn’t perfect.

I saw my dad for the first time in two years this past weekend, and lord was I freaked out. I was the perfect picture of someone trying to sabotage themselves- projecting every unpleasant outcome as if to beat my heart to the punch so I wouldn’t have to be disappointed. Instead, I saw a quiet old man who barely spoke over a whisper. We went off and had coffee- just the two of us and somehow what I thought was lost forever quietly entered my world again stilling a storm in me I’ve felt for a long time. The questions, the way things weren’t right before, they all faded away as we talked (okay, I talked, and he listened) and by the time we said goodbye I hugged him several times before I had the strength to drive away.

As I drove away I was filled to the brim with gratitude, but be damned if I could manage any more than silence. That’s how things feel when the wind and waves no longer roar and a setting sun turns the water into an image of golden glass, you just want to enjoy the silence.