I had to stop the oil pulling. I was starting to itch at night in my sleep, whenever I got into the hot tub, or in the sunlight. Basically: whenever I was near heat or warm. I suspected that I must’ve had an allergy to coconut or coconut oil. Once I stopped swishing, the itching went away. I’m a little bummed about it because I was hopeful that I would clear my body of all the toxins and sarcasm but then I realized that my liver’s been doing a pretty good job of that, the toxins anyway. But then I got norovirus, so maybe that was what caused the itching. It was bad here for a few days. First Thing 2 on a Tuesday, then me on Thursday, then Thing 3 last Friday. We were a mess. But I’m not really ready to start itching and swishing again, so… I’m out.
That conversation I had with myself about my liver reminded me about the lecture we heard on the yoga retreat by the lymphatic and myofascia massage consultant who spoke to us about the chakras and energy systems in our bodies. During that discussion, she all but said, “Don’t sweat bug sprays and environmental toxins and using real toothpaste with fluoride in it because your liver has been protecting your body all along and it’s doing a fine job already…” and while I agreed with that notion, largely, I also found myself shaking my head because … well: cancer. I mean… that’s where liver’s been beaten rather handily. It was sort of irresponsible. She said that the anxiety from worrying about all the exposures is more harmful than the exposure and the liver is doing just fine. She had a point: anxiety can kill.
Then that lecture got me thinking about my yoga certification and that I haven’t updated any of you about it.
I’m certified!! I’m done! I have paid my funds to the Yoga Alliance to have them put me in a registry and I’m already lined up to teach two separate classes near my home in a pretty coveted location. I’m taking over the slots from a beloved instructor, so while I’m excited for the opportunity, I’m also a little freaked out about it because … well: attrition. People love and become attached to their instructors. This is life and I’m no slouch; I’m just not this person, so we will have to see how it goes. I’m pretty pumped about it though.
I do plan to write a review / follow-up about my yoga retreat. People should know what they’re getting into when they register for a 16-day teacher training retreat. Looking back on it now, I’d still go on the retreat because it prepared me emotionally for losing my mother, but tactically: it did not prepare me entirely for teaching hatha yoga, especially from an anatomy standpoint. If it weren’t for my 15 years of practicing yoga, it would be hard to teach yoga based on that teacher training.
What it did do is prepared me for teaching children’s yoga, but … that’s not an RYT-200; children’s yoga is an entirely different kind of discipline and I suppose it’s probably harder, but it’s also easier too — they’re two different animals and well, I don’t think they should be combined. Shakta, the head trainer and creator of Radiant Child yoga is awesome; but she’s not hatha yoga inspired or educated. So… well… there is no governing body like the Yoga Alliance that discerns the training for teaching children yoga — but there should be, because kids are awesome and they need to be protected. I should stop talking. The last thing the world needs is more red tape. Nevermind.
Let’s see… our puppy Charlie is 33# now. He has lost about six teeth and he looks really goofy. His adult teeth are coming in though so I hope his incessant chewing will eventually slow down. Today, he chewed through the eco-friendly (paper) DVD case of a chakra and meditation DVD I just got to help me develop my yin practice both here and I hope at one of the classes I will be teaching. What’s yin yoga? Oh: awesome. Yin is really deep and slow yoga. It’s a practice of yoga that breaks down the poses inch by inch where you can build strength and really get into the pose and release and stretch. Ironically, you have warm up with some flow yoga to do it, but once you are warm, then you get to really slow down and hold the poses. I love yin practices and I believe the world is starving for some quieter, slower paced and more mindful work.
Spring begins today. Like right now. Like balance an egg on its end and see if it stays up. I can’t believe it. It’s finally here. Winter is officially unwelcome until December 20. I love snow. I’m totally good with it. I love how it tells us all to slow down and bundle up and read a book or cuddle with our pets and family. But … I’m over it. My kids have had only two full weeks of school since Christmas break. But I’ve had only one full week without them because we’ve all been sick in one fashion or another. I’m not going to add myself to the litany of ranting mothers who hate snow because I don’t hate snow. I just want my kids to get back to a program of learning. The snow days were totally disruptive.
I haven’t been writing at all much. Clearly not here on the blog and not personally or privately. I think I’m suffering a little emotionally because of it, too.
I’m battling a fair amount of external energy which is a remnant of old energies I picked up as a child. Lots of shame and fear: I feel like I shouldn’t at all be writing about my life and my challenges and triumphs and so even writing right now, about what I’m going through and the yoga and the dogs and the abundance of snow is even something I shouldn’t do. I’m not sure where that’s coming from. I know that it’s irrational and that it’s not mine. It’s a vestige of my youth, when I could be controlled by external influences and so I’m trying to let it all go.
It’s like I have an angel on one shoulder saying, “go for it! you can help people! you can tell your story in a true and authentic and giving way which will spread hope and light…” And then there’s a devil on the other shoulder saying, “dish it out. dish all the dirt. smear everyone. tell all the stories because that’s only the stuff that people want to hear about. they want the dirt. smear sells…” And then there’s me saying, “it doesn’t have to be like that: it doesn’t have to be smear and it doesn’t have to be saintly. i’ve read so many memoirs — i’m fascinated by them… but maybe people don’t care anymore. maybe they’re blasé now? and then what about the memoirs i’ve read by the adult kids of writers? crap! i don’t want my kids writing that or feeling that way about me… saul bellow’s kid’s memoir was PATHETIC!” so here we are.
I don’t know what to do. Maybe I’ll do another challenge. Maybe I’ll write some fiction based on some cool quotes by great writers. Maybe I’ll do a fiction challenge based on quotes I get from Gratefulness.org. I need to do something. I started to write some fiction the other day, but then my son took my computer and I don’t know what happened to it. That’s another part about all this: GET OFF MY COMPUTER. But I can’t say that because he used it for school.
School. It’s not good. We will be in school here until June 24. I said I wasn’t going to talk about this. Now I am. I’m talking about it.
Lalalalaaaa. Maybe I will do one of those WordPress prompts. Prompts for the promptless. I need to do something. I hope you all are doing well.
Well, this post reads more like a letter home from a homesick camper. I suppose that’s what I will consider it and move on. I’ll be back. I really miss this place. 🙂
Good to hear from you. Even though things are crazy at Camp Whatchadoin Whereyagoin.;)
hey Tammy! i love you! i know… that sounds weird. but i think you get it. i love you and miss you guys. so much in my head these days. i know you’re launching soon… right? let me help you out… i can write to both my readers about you! 🙂
how are you?? oxox
Well written. May peace be with you 🙂
thank you! and with you.
I’m so glad to hear your voice. You could write about anything, and I’d read it. Just write. Tell the chatterbox to STFU. xoxo
thank you. i believe you and i am so grateful for your Truth. i’ve been waiting to tell you a story. it’s a short one, but i’m so glad to be able to tell it.
about 6 months ago, after my Mom died, i’d come out of hiding so to speak. i read a beautiful post from the Daily Om in my email that morning and i decided to share it, sort of as my subtle, “I’m still here, but I’m really sad still…” sort of prairie dogging on my FB wall. it related the concept of a “surrender box” (or something to that effect) and how we can write down our worries and our woes and our experiences and then put them in a box. and you wrote in the comments your experience with something similar and you called it your “God box” which I loved and it was also something along the lines of how I personally synthesized that shared concept and content from Daily Om, but i’m not preachy. i’m more of a walk-alongsider than a stand-and-talker.
a person, with whom i’d shared a past, much of it checkered and weary from strife and with whom I was personally internally trying to figure out what to do with in my life because she is really toxic but i’d let ride out because y’know “turn the other cheek thing…” commented to me privately her comments about the whole thread. it was all completely unsolicited. it was like a screed of intolerance and hate and preaching — of all ironies: about how we should Pray and Keep Jesus in our Lives … now, I get it. i’m a Christian, but I’m also smart enough to know that not everyone is and to me, one of the keys to keeping Christ in my heart is to not try to jam it into someone else’s. this person was so vehement about her position, that she later texted me a tale about her daughter’s poisonous comments DURING GRACE that evening at dinner about how the “surrender box” was a defamation and that Jesus is the only way (which I get — but let’s not forget that He cares just as much if not more about the one sheep that got away than the 99 who are still with Him)… it went on and on. to the point where i openly asked her, “why are you telling me this?! what — during my grief– can i possibly gain from your invective? and what on EARTH is your child doing ranting and mimicking your ill-begotten concept during GRACE of all things?!”
well… she stopped talking to me. for three weeks. remember: my mom is gone. i am in deep deeeeeeeeep shit emotionally and practically, as i’m trying to Keep It All Together For The Team! SMILES! and suffering as well. because i wanted to be happy too… but it just wasn’t coming.
i even apologize to her.
no text. no FB inbox note. no call. no email. nothing. just continued in her icy way.
it was all too familiar, Mary. it reminded me of my parents. who would ice me when i displeased them. who would shun me when i dared cross their wishes. it was all a sign. it was all so close. i could touch it. it was as if God Himself were saying, “it’s ok. let this one go…” and i did.
and you know what happened?
she wrote back. said this (it’s so rich): “I’m over whatever. Been busy with cheerleading and softball and baseball and school and work. Let’s do lunch.”
man. that was familiar too. i have spent TOO much of my life with people who simply will NOT own their shit. who simply are incapable of looking in the mirror. my life is too short. i told her to go away and never come back. that our attempted reunions over the years and the manipulative way she treated me and her patent silent treatments were no longer effective; that they no longer held sway. that her skewed treatment and relation of the extremely benign content and the transfer and gloating of her daughter gave me great pause and that i didn’t want her in my life anymore; that i wanted the other people instead. that her Christian values were so off the mark and so hypocritical (and trust me, there are plenty of skeletons in that closet of hers) that she was hemorrhaging her self-loathing and now her daughter was picking it up to. that the only way to lift herself up was to trash other people — ESPECIALLY during my grief, left me no choice. she was a dinosaur in my life and i had to move on.
i wrote about it obliquely (which another person accused me of being along with ‘obtuse’ because i’d rather speak in parable and personal subtleties than be explicit — sometimes when we are explicit people don’t think they can color outside the lines) on my blog a couple times. and each time… you, my dear sweet unknown friend, commented beautifully.
she drew a line in the sand; then she crossed it.
i chose you, Mary. her screeds were about all of our thoughts on the surrender box. her venom was unstoppable and i chose you and health and peace.
that’s the story. thank you for sticking by me. you have NO idea what it means to me. xoox
Wow. I have been waiting to hear that story, and it was so worth the wait. I’m sad for her that she doesn’t even realize how special of a person she lost. But I’m more grateful for all that you gained in losing her. Keep on trucking, my friend 🙂
Congratulations on officially becoming a yoga instructor!
Anxiety is a beast. I wish we could send it packing more easily.
thanks, LC. things are lining up … or as we say in yoga, “aligning.”
anxiety is huge and i know now it was/is what i’d been fighting. i have to kick it to the curb. ox