Watch for old patterns.
Consistent effort is the path to transformation.
See you tomorrow! — David Robson, email, July 10, 2011
I don’t think I’ve said enough about my yoga teacher David Robson lately. *Cough.*
The thing is in the midst of all the crazy stuff I’ve had going on lately, he’s actually managing to help me get grounded (which is really hard to do for me whose feet are perpetually, though extremely wide, hovering floaty above the ground, laaaaa). Well, so far. I DID show up to yoga this morning.
At first he didn’t say too much when I stopped showing up to daily early-morning Mysore practice — except that if I had to let anything go in my life, it shouldn’t be my yoga practice. “You’ve worked so hard,” he said. I didn’t know how badly I needed to hear that. See? Brillers teacher.
After he said that to me, I went back a few times, and then I stopped showing up again. So I emailed David at the shala . I wanted to let him know that my intention to practice was still there and that I just had a lot going on. I guess he realized that what I was really doing was asking for an extra push from him, and that’s when he emailed me that little GEM quoted above.
“Watch for old patterns.” Hmm…, let’s see….
Old pattern #1: Not only have I not been waking up early to go to yoga, but I’ve also been going to bed late. Really LATE.
Old pattern #2: I’ve been starting my days not with yoga but with Starbucks soy no-water tazo chai. Grrrrr…..
Actually, I start every day with a heavy, blond, very round head on my lower back, and a white, fluffy, furry head on my feet. PINNED. And then my CAT couldn’t be more excited when I finally do wake up. It’s like Dino and Fred Flinstone. Wiiiiiiiiiilmaaaaaaaa!
Old pattern #3: I’ve been eating and drinking NOTHING after my chai — until the evening…. Eeeeeek, I know! And apparently I have hypoglycemia, to make matters even awesomer.
Old pattern #4: I’m a nervous stress case.
Old pattern #5: I stopped cooking for myself. Good thing it’sgrandma makes a mean salad at the cottage….
Old pattern #6: Let’s just say my house has seen tidier days….
So I don’t know what happened. Or, well I have a theory: school ended for the kids; they started camp; I took on a few too many assignments at work; I went to New York, ran around a lot…; and then I slipped — like Cinderella did, but all the way down the stairs, only not as graceful, and like I said, wide feet, phoom phoom phoom. I slipped off the wagon (many wagons) and just stopped taking care of myself. Yoga wasn’t the first to go. But, as David wisely, and possibly psychically, pointed out in that email, my skipping yoga was a signal that I was falling back into old patterns.
Addiction. Comfortable there.
It was a good thing he sent me that email. The timing was impeccable. Because it was that same day that I actually convinced myself I was going to DIE from the chai I chugged that morning. My anxiety was at a record high….
So I’m just about to do my “drop backs” this morning. David takes his usual place in front of me, looks me in the eye so there’s no looking away, even though (for me) it’s obscenely early in the morning to be socializing in any capacity, and reminds me that I “need a practice.” Because it’s the one thing that will keep me grounded and going, that will “push me through” all the changes so I don’t get lost in them and all overwhelmed.
Like an empty water bottle lost at sea, toxic and carried by endless waves of change.
Today I didn’t have a chai latte. This might explain any incoherence, rambling, typos or bizarre, out-of-nowhere metaphors in this blog post. Instead I made a simple green smoothie. And, as my team (nay, family) at Today’s Parent reminded me to do, I brought my lunch to work — some simple miso brown rice and vegetables and hummus. I’m building new patterns.
I’ll never forget what my teacher Monica Voss said years ago when we were discussing a yoga pose: sometimes you have to “collapse the structure so we can gradually rebuild.” And it looks like that’s what happening here.
So, huge thanks to David Robson for nudging me so perfectly to rebuild. As he himself said, “It won’t be the last time.” Ha! But at least I know I have him and my friends at the shala to catch me when I slip or, better yet, to pick this toxic water bottle out of the ocean and plant some flowers in her. Yikes?
So, Gorgeouses, what are some old patterns you slip into when life gets overwhelming? And do you have some kind of “practice” or hobby to keep you steady and grounded?