Foiled By The Holiday


I rode my scooter up to the gates of the church to realize they were barred shut.

No doing that deal tonight.

Oh well.

I came home and did some more school work.

I just finished my third posting for my Applied Spirituality class and I did the rest of the reading I needed to do for my Therapeutic Relationship class.

I got a lot done today despite not feeling like I got a lot done.

I slept in for one.

Although I did still make it to yoga class.

I just decided to do a later morning class than I would typically.

I knew I needed to rest.

It’s been two weeks since I manifest the cold I have had, it’s last hooks seem to be easing up and though there was a brief moment of coughing on my mat–not literally, hello–I feel like I’m finally through the damn thing.

But that didn’t mean I wanted to push myself unnecessarily when I didn’t need to.

I normally meet with a lady at a certain point in my day and that was cancelled for Easter egg hunts and bunnies in Marin.

Totally respect that.

So.

Sleeping in for me, a later yoga class, and a later start to my day.

Which feels like it has sort of passed in a blur of children’s laughter–there was an Easter egg hunt in the back yard this afternoon for my housemates daughter and friends in the neighborhood and soft soreness from my yoga exertions this morning.

Plus, all the reading I did, so much reading, I do feel a tiny bit fuzzy with it.

And a softening in myself for the work of it all.

Yoga is work.

School is work.

Recovery is definitely work.

But the payoffs.

So good.

So much God.

So much love.

I also know to balance that too and when I didn’t need to do extra to not do extra.

I had an idea that I might make an extra run to the grocery store, but I was pretty mellow in my home and habits today and the effort of the yoga class sort of took out my juju to do a lot more.

As though, let me acknowledge to myself, I didn’t do anything, because that’s not true either.

I did laundry and I went to the market up the street and I cooked all my food for the week and I ate really well–someone in the neighborhood left out a box of free Meyer lemons from their tree, hello homemade lemon hummus–and I put clean sheets on my bed, I did all sort of reading, aforementioned, for school, I showered and wrote my morning pages–three long hand in my last notebook from Paris, the one from the Palais de Tokyo (stopping briefly to accept the wash of light blue tinged sorrow that comes over me when I think of that trip, still the soft bereft girl in me lingers there, in the pages of the notebooks I bought and brought back), I gassed up my scooter for the week, and I also had a tech call with Apple Care.

Which did not actually fix the issue and I’m going to have to call back and reschedule some more help.

The guy got me half way there, and it was going to take some time to move all my photos, 10,810 of them, to the external hard drive.

But for some reason it did not seem to take and I am still stuck with a lap top that is constantly telling me that it is has a full disc drive.

So.

Back to the drawing board there.

But.

Really.

A full day.

A reflective day, a quiet day, a day not quite of repose, but one in which I spent most of it reading from my chaise lounge, watching the light change on the surface of the page as the day melted away down towards dusk and sunset.

The ticking clock in motion.

The melancholic moment of day end and the awareness of all things done.

And not done, but mostly done.

I thought I might get around to writing one of my papers for the next weekend of school, but after all the reading, I didn’t have the gumption in me.

I think I spent all my gumption at the yoga studio.

I also had a really interesting experience.

Aside from falling over when I tried to do a side plank and also, exhorting, “oh my god,” when we did a pose that was to help do an IT band stretch.

At least the instructor chuckled with me.

She also helped me understand something new about my person and my experience with myself and my intuition.

My third eye, specifically.

She kept exhorting the class to soften that space between the brows, to ease into the poses and sometimes I could, but mostly, the spot between my eyes was furrowed in concentration.

Later.

Well, hmm, later I began to speculate that perhaps it wasn’t furrowed because I was trying so hard to do something, but rather that I was trying so hard to not allow myself to see.

To, in effect, utilize my third eye.

I have a deep pool of intuition and love and inner clairvoyance that I have not ever really allowed or encouraged myself to see or use.

It is strong enough that it comes through often to me none the less, intuition, gut response, a pricking of the thumbs, etc.

However.

I had this image of a large dragon eye, opening and closing, then falling asleep.

Rather like Smaug in The Hobbit, he sleeps, but knows that there is a mischief about.

A thief.

Bilbo with the ring poking through the treasure.

But the eye is closed, glued shut, sticky with sleep crumbs and gluttonous logic.

How could there be anyone there?

No.

Slumber on, but with brow furrowed, eye closed against the whispers of something is up.

The instructor during our final resting pose came to me as I lie on my back, eyes closed, heart furrowed against further insights, I had just finished a strenuous pose and felt opened to more sorrow and tears were on my face, and sweat.

Goodness.

I broke a sweat today.

Anyway.

As I lay there she gently approached, squatted down and placed a small amount of ointment into the nook of my left shoulder and rubbed a tight knot of muscle there I did not even realize needed relief.

Then.

She dotted the space between my eyes and rubbed the spot until it relaxed and opened.

I felt like that sleepy dragon.

I felt that eye open and look about.

It feels dangerous.

And amazing.

Then I cried some more.

Good grief.

I did not know, thank God my person did, how much sadness and anger needed to be shed out of my body.

It feels amazing.

And tiring too.

It was a lot of work to show up on that mat today and I am grateful for the body that did the work and the mind that finally got the hell out of the way.

And for that opening eye.

I am nervous to see what visions it brings.

But enthralled with it too.

Life.

It keeps getting richer.

I just have to keep taking the suggestions.

Grateful I didn’t balk too long at the yoga one.

Grateful I show up.

Just grateful for it all.

Third eye open.

Blind.

No longer.

Advertisements

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: