Eighteen

August 25, 2008

I have eighteen days left here before I leave for Training.  18.  Not so many days now.  I’m doing OK.  I have good days and bad days.  My practice has settled back into a normal (more sane) pattern.  I’m appreciating my days off quite a bit as I know they are limited, and in a few weeks will be nearly nonesistent.  But there I am again, I cannot live in the future.  I only have right now.

My dialogue is going well.  I’m nearly finished wth Triangle.  My goal all along has been to have the entire Standing Series memorized before I leave.  It looks like this will be easily done.  Finding time to study is challenging with the kids, and normal life, and praciticing.  But I have been working out some new ways of studying and as long as I give it a little time each day, it’s going along just fine.

I think I’m ready.  I believe I am.  I’ll begin the process of packing soon.  I have a little more on my list to do and get before I fly away, but the major preparations are behind me.  Now it’s the details, the small items.  I also will soon begin the process of saying goodbyes, having lunches one more time with friends, and preparing my sweet family for my absence.  It’s almost surreal how this has all unfolded for me.  Just six short weeks ago, I sat with Jen and Arnie and made up my mind over a Greek salad that I could do this.  That dinner feels like it happened decades ago.  I don’t even feel like the same person.  The transformation has already begun.

It’s happening, so fast.  I want to remember it.  Even days like this, sitting on my couch with my dialgoue beside me.  I hear the dishwasher running and the kids playing upstairs.  I am still here, but already there.  I want to remember how this felt so that when I come back, or even halfway through Training, I can still feel this feeling.  I want to remember it.  Even if it’s just a little.

Eighteen days will turn into sixteen, then ten, then five, then I’ll be gone.  I’ll be in Acapulco.  I’ll be in the huge yoga room with Bikram teaching me.  I’ll be listening and learning and missing and hoping and thinking.

I just want to remember, because yesterday and tomorrow can never feel like today.

Namaste.

I’ll go ahead and spill it that I missed class today. I had a commitment this morning that threw me off kilter for getting in my usual Saturday yoga double-header. But all is well and I will get back on the mat tomorrow.

Yesterday I did go to class. I had Jessica and a tiiiny class – only SIX of us! I struggled more than I have in a while. But, of course left feeling better than when I started. Not surprising.

I say so often in my blog posts, “I am learning so much.” Or, “I have come so far.” It’s hard on days like yesterday to say those things. But really, it’s those hard classes that really do remind me how far I’ve come and how much I have learned – if for no other reason than the fact that they are so rare.

I feel a bit like someone going through intense rehab sometimes. I never want to take for granted the place I came from or the way my life has been transformed by my ongoing commitment to this practice. Teachers often say, the more you are hurting or the more sickness you have in your body – the more injuries you carry – the more yoga you need to do. I have taken this mindset very seriously in the past five or six months. I’ve literally spent a minimum of seven hours a week (most of the time much more) rehabilitating my body on my mat. I go and go and go and go. When I “started over” last Fall with this yoga, I was in dire need of a serious change. But it wasn’t until about March or April of this year that I finally said, “OK no turning back” and threw myself headlong into my practice. Maybe I knew back then in the Spring that once I did it, I was ruined forever. In so many ways, this yoga does ruin you. It ruins you for feeling average and ruins you for being sick. Once you experience health and vitality and radiant life inside of you, you really are ruined. Coupled with the way I’ve been eating, my body is completely transformed. Inside and out, bones to the skin, fingertips to the toes. I am a new Karen. I like it.

So, I never want to take that for granted. I never want to go back. Oh no, I never want to go back. I am free from pain, imbalances, depression, and so much more. I’m free, like someone let out of jail after years and years and years trapped inside of a life they didn’t want. The difference is that I was my own captor. I was the jailer and the prisoner. It wasn’t until I owned up to myself that I had the keys to open the door that I was able to move forward. It’s good to look back and remember from whence we came. It’s good to appreciate the amazing roads we travel that make us better. But it’s also good to remember that some of those roads should never be traveled again.

Namaste