Dear Internet,
I've sat down to write a new post at least three dozen times but my hands always go still over the keys. Numb from the shame of what it is I want to tell you.
This has been a hard month for me and I just need it be over. My meditation practice has become nonexistent, I fell off the cleansing wagon pretty hard, I'm uninspired in my yoga teaching, I STILL haven't gotten a couch for my office, or worked on my pilot project, or kicked into handstand, or, or, or.
Call it the ides of March. Mercury in retrograde. Depression. Exhaustion. A dosha imbalance. Spanda. Whatever it is I need it to go away because it's making feel pretty helpless. Restless. Like a failure. A fraud.
I sat here and talked about how I'd never go back to my old patterns again because my new way of being just feels too good. Yet, what I ate yesterday in honor of Brian's birthday begs to differ (pancakes, bacon, carrot cake, pizza).
I claim to be a yoga teacher yet half the time I keep my fingers crossed hoping no one will show up to my class. And I avoid my own practices. I show up to class five times a week and call my work done. Not sitting, not engaging my home practice, not breathing on my own.
I say I want to put my counseling degree to use yet do I have a couch, or a chair? Have I made flyers or bought advertising? No, no, and no.
I call myself upbeat. Joyful. So loud and positive and happy it makes people's teeth hurt. But it's been weeks since I actually felt light. Connected. So ecstatic I could cry.
And I'm not sure what to do. Or why I'm back here.
I thought I'd slayed this beast. Dumped the weight. Overcome the depression. Changed my thought patterns. Gotten new habits. And yet here I am. Again. And probably again. And again.
Because that seems to be how things work. In cycles. In roller coaster ways instead of straight lines. Because what goes up must come down.
And I've been up for awhile.
So I'm down. And while I know that this place isn't forever. That I'll pulse back into my practices. Get paid so I can buy green vegetables. Reconnect to my teaching.
I don't like this place. It scares me because I've been stuck here before. I've pulled the covers over my head, eaten a banana nut muffin, and called it day. And a day. And a day. Until the days added up to a fat, depressed Sara.
And I don't want that to happen again.
So I'm telling you. I'm trusting that you're big enough to hold my brokenness. My vulnerability. That you can love me. All of me. Even if I'm not drinking green smoothies three times a day, meditating until my butt hurts from sitting, and twisting myself into a pretzel everyday.
Because the truth of life is that sometimes it sucks and you don't know why. Sometimes you do eat a banana nut muffin. Sometimes you cry and don't practice yoga. Sometimes you are just human and imperfect and that's ok.
Because when you open yourself up to life. When you crack your heart open. You let everything in. Even the suck. And if you resist that. If you run from it. And don't let yourself feel it then you can't heal it.
So here I am. Feeling it. Lying broken in a pile in front of my computer screen. Because I know that's the only way I can pick myself up back up.
XO,
Sara
A fantastic article on my favorite never not broken Hindu goddess...Why Lying Broken in a Pile on Your Bedroom Floor is a Good Idea
And a wonderful talk about connection, vulnerability, and banana nut muffins...
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