Bless It


Or block it.

I heard this tonight and had to reflect that it was indeed true for me.

So much simplicity, so easy, it’s just rolling down the hill, being in God’s will.

It’s a nice thing.

Of course, rejection hurts.

But as another smart woman told me, “rejection is God’s protection.”

Either it will be blessed or it will be blocked.

I can try to maneuver around it, but there it is, being blocked.

Like my scooter.

I think it’s time to let her go.

I don’t seem to have the band width to deal with it.

Poor girl is just gathering dust in the front entry way of my housemates house, I’m sure she’s tired of seeing it there and for me, it’s become this odd symbol of something that I thought would work for me, but has not, not at all.

Ten and a half months since I sprained my ankle trying to start it and I haven’t fully healed.

I haven’t been on many rides since owning it, although I am super grateful I got to learn how to ride it, I keep thinking, man, a car would be nice.

I wouldn’t have to worry about kick starting it, that’s for sure.

I’m not dying for transportation, my bicycle gets me around just fine.

Although the body breakdown is quite in evidence as I did my physical therapy exercise tonight when I got home from work.

I rolled out a yoga mat and the foam back roller and got down on the floor and grunted and groaned and did hip lifts and IT band stretches and some core work, and hip stretches and turned on the music and just took the time to do the deal.

I have to do this every day?

I thought.

Shit.

This sucks.

Then I  thought, it’s just for today.

I just have to do it today.

Don’t worry about tomorrow or the day after that or the weekend or next month or I will go nuts.

It’s like most things in my life, I can think that it’s going to be unbearable, but if I break it down into small manageable chunks, then things get done and I am almost always surprised at how much does indeed get done.

And how serendipitous the Universe can be.

“It sounds like you should do restorative yoga,” my dear friend suggested to me this afternoon as I checked in with her and told  her what was happening with the physical therapy.

“Have you tried Yoga Punx?”

“I have not,” I replied.

I have not tried a lot of yoga even though it does continually get suggested to me.

Then I was riding my bike home and what the hell?

Where did the organic mattress store go?

I was crossing the intersection at 46th and Irving and saw a man putting up a sign in the emptied out store.

“BEACH YOGA”

Well.

Fuck me.

A half block from the house?

Really.

I mean, it couldn’t get much closer unless someone decides to throw a yoga studio in my back yard.

“You could find room in your schedule, one night a week, I bet you could,” my friend said encouragingly, “I think it would really help you.”

She should know, she’s a nurse.

I have to agree with her.

That would be a blessing.

And.

Here’s something funny.

I was able to get registered for classes last night after a day of struggling to figure out why I could not register–turns out there was a glitch in the system and I was not the only student affected, and one of the classes that I have to register for as part of my curriculum, you guessed it.

Yoga and meditation.

It would appear that I am being told something here.

My weekend schedule has changed and this may be just the thing for me.

Another thing I can do in my neighborhood and stay put.

Again, pointing out to me that I don’t currently need another form of transportation, the bicycle is great and letting go of the scooter and the thinking around it may be just what the doctor ordered.

That and some yoga.

I mean I will be taking a class in it for heaven’s sake, might as well pick up some practice before I even head off to the class.

When I think of other things in my life, as I look at a framed photograph of the event from the heavens, that are blessed, I have to smile.

Burning Man.

Heading into my 9th time out to playa and it just seems to be getting better and better.

I know the event has changed a lot, but I don’t think change is a bad thing and when I think about all the art, the yummy, scrumptous, beautiful art, I get excited.

When I think about what my favorite color is, indigo violet, and how it happens to be that mix of sunset at Burning Man that informs that choice, I get happy.

Circumstances have always conspired to get me there and back and as I prepare to go again I get happy, really happy that I get to be a part of the community, one very small part, but one very happy part.

And my happiness, I believe, anyway is infectious.

“You make me happy,” one of the boys told me today.

“You make me happy too,” I told him and gave him a big hug.

And earlier in the day before he had come home from pre-school and his brother was down for a nap, after the laundry had been folded and dinner prepped for the evening, the dishwasher going, the house tidy, I sat and ate my lunch in a big overstuffed chair and watched the light fall rich and golden through the garden into the kitchen and I thought.

“I love my job.”

And I do.

That would be another aspect of my life that is blessed–being a nanny.

Who knew that I would be doing this professionally for this long.

I certainly had not planned on it, but there it is and it’s been a wonderful career.

And the perfect stepping stone to the next part of my life.

So much seems blessed today.

I don’t have any time to even reflect on those things that have been blocked.

I understand why they didn’t work or can’t work or why they are not for me.

I don’t have to dwell on the blocked.

I get to live in the blessed.

And blessed I am indeed.

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