I have this bad habit. My edit button sometimes sticks. I think that’s okay here, because I think it shows the regular ups and downs of regular life. Even for a yoga therapist. So I talked and talked about doing well and flying through life with colors-or something like that-and then I hit a will. And I guess that’s
progress, but I have to admit it feels a bit like failure. Because I wrote it. If I’d kept my mouth shut about life being all roses and then I hit the wall it would be okay. But I was out there and my stumble was public.
But that’s good. It’s good for me to feel that and to question it and to be in that uncomfortable space. Because from the uncomfortable comes growth. Boy, am I growing.
What I learned last month is that when I committed to doing good, fun things I lived life a little better. I don’t know if I would say life was full of passion, but it felt like I was moving in the right direction. When I got tired, sick, injured and just too lazy to make lunch dates and hit the gym I started to sink. Our thoughts are always what get us in trouble. My thoughts got me in big trouble.
And somehow I’m back to a better place. The growth and lessons seem to come in waves. And I hope this is one lesson that I’ve really honestly learned. I’m too tired to have more weeks where I trudge.
So, I’m committing to passion. The Unfilled Well was a baby step, I now realize. There’s a lot of work behind the idea that I need to fill my well. I have a lot of shadow beliefs that keep me folding laundry when I really want to be reading in the tub. So I continue to pray and meditate to find clarity, have coffee/lunch/wine with friends to have connection, go to new classes and hit the treadmill (I really like the treadmill mostly because I get caught up on the trashy magazines that get donated to the gym, except last time it was all gardening magazines) to stay present in my body, drop some weight and mix it up a little and work on myself.
Commit is a big word. It used to scare me, but I’m good with it. Commit means more than think about it. It means stepping into it fully and completely. And that is what has always scared me. From my dysfunctional childhood to my tumultuous 20s I skated by on thin, thin ice. I wasn’t fully in my life. I was bouncing around doing anything to not focus on me.
And then I had my daughter. And then life was about diapers and Mom groups and naps, lovely naps. Ad I was in my life, but it wasn’t the life I wanted. Don’t get me wrong I loved being a Mom and I loved my daughter to pieces. But I just floated, I didn’t make choices. I did things the way that others around me were doing them. And then 13 years flew by and I found that my life wasn’t mine. I was committed to doing things non-stop for other people.
Last year I took a wonderful long weekend to reconnect with old friends. I would never have done that if someone else hadn’t made it happen. It might have been my idea (I can’t remember whose idea it was), but I wouldn’t have followed through. But suddenly everyone was buying plane tickets and my husband was pushing me to go and it WAS to celebrate turning 40 and I had that little inkling that I wanted to do more and so I did it! I was proud of myself AND I had tons of fun. And we’re doing it again this year. And we’re already talking about what these weekends will be like when we’re 50.
Committing is about following through.
I come from a family of Someday. I married into a family of Someday. And I don’t want to be that person anymore and I certainly don’t want to raise my kids that way. Someday sucks!
So here’s what I got. A few weeks ago I wrote that I might be able to reveal a bit of what would fill me and I think I can share a bit. It’s scary, because it means stepping into it. But it’s great because I’m ready to own my life. That was even scary to write.
I want to stop teaching so much. I’ve always known that with my ultimate dream of making Breathe Holistic Life Center an actual physical entity I would have to take on the role of director more than teacher. But I had this idea that I SHOULD be teaching a lot right now. I intellectualized it. I thought that I needed to do it for the money, the experience of teaching non-stop all week long, as a way to connect with students that may one day move with me to my new digs. I had a lot of reasons. I’m officially burned out. My heart is telling me that teaching this much is a bad decision.
My dream is to teach about half what I am now and start teaching workshops and retreats. This has always been my passion, but somehow I got sidetracked. And ultimately it’s better money, better teaching experience and more fulfilling. And it gives me the opportunity to travel and teach, which would be the ultimate life.
So I have to make it till Summer. I’m committed for this school year. In the Summer the schedule changes dramatically and then I really do need to teach whatever they’re offering me. But it means going from teaching 12 classes a week to teaching 8 or fewer classes a week. I’m going to take a few weeks off before school starts and then I will drop at least two classes, maybe more.
I already have outlines for Couples Yoga and Passion Yoga, workshops that I’m passionate about and an opportunity to participate as a presenter in a women’s retreat here in Lawrence.
So there it is. I have more. More thoughts about my marriage, my body, my parenting, my living space, my hobbies (hobbies?), my wardrobe. REALLY, you have no idea how far my sacrifices have ranged. But this baby step felt like a leap so I’m stopping.
And I’m going to remember to Breathe.