Tomorrow is my seventh wedding anniversary.

This is the first time Dave and I have ever been apart for this long.  The last time we were apart for a long period of time was during our engagement, for six weeks.  I was also in Mexico for that one, oddly enough.  But here we are, seven years of marriage, and we’re separated by miles and miles.  It’s OK, really.  We both knew coming into this journey that we’d be apart during this time.  It’s not fun, or easy, but it’s liveable.  And in five weeks, we’ll be back together.

So here I have a little letter I’ve written for my love.  And I choose to post it here instead of making it private because, well, I’m just an exhibitionist like that.

Mi amor,

When I think back to the day we got married, I marvel at how the time has passed so quickly.  When we got married in that beautiful room in front of all of those that we love, we had no idea what we were getting into.  I remember flying off to Thailand the next day, and spending three weeks delirious in our new life.  I remember our first apartment with no washing machine, I remember sleeping on endless futons, I remember late Friday night laundry.  I remember the way it felt to wake up beside you day after day and force myself to remember that it wasn’t going to be taken away from me.  You’re the best thing that’s ever hapened to me.

I miss you so deeply right now that my body aches.  I woke up this morning with a hollow heart, but it doesn’t discourage me.  You are mine, forever.  It’s etched into the rings that never leave my fingers.  It’s burned into my soul.  But beyond the words inside my wedding bands, and platitudes and poetry is a deep and enduring love that I can never forget.  You are the only person I’ve ever felt I could be my true self with, and the only person in the world who truly knows me.

I don’t take the preciousness of our bond for granted.  I don’t discount the sacrifices you’ve made for me to be here, following my dreams.  I don’t overlook your unconditional acceptance and adoration.  I still remember that Saturday morning up on the mountain when you asked me to marry you.  I still remember never, for one single second, hesitating to say yes.

So, as this day passes and we are apart, I want you to know that I love you.  I count the days until we are together again.  It’s been the best seven years of my life.

Forever,

Ren

Advertisements

Day 51: Introspection

July 21, 2008

I had a nice calm class this morning. Nice and hot, perfect. Sheila taught, she’s amazing.

A friend asked me today if I’ve been taking care of myself since I’ve been pounding out all this yoga. I told him I have been taking good care and that not only did I feel amazing, but I felt the best I’ve felt in ages. Also, that I was the healthiest I’ve ever been. This is so true. I’ve been through so many changes the past few months and weeks sometimes it’s hard to nail them all down. But the overall picture of what’s going on with me physically, emotionally, and mentally is unbelievable.

When I look back at all that I’ve done and all the changes I’ve made I am forced to give pause to believing that this is all me. I am not alone in this endeavor. Nor am I alone in facing the challenges that lie ahead for me in Training. Another dear sweet friend Chan said that there will surely come a day when all those hands supporting me now will be carrying me. And that it will be in those times that I feel the most love and support.

But even with all the support; even with the hands carrying me through this process, the Challenge, Training, even just the day to day; I am reminded of another friend who says to me regularly that ultimately I alone must still do the work. Only I can do it. Those hands, those friends, my family, all beautiful and wonderful. All are vital and supportive and amazing. But at the end of the day, it’s me and the mat. I have to go through this to get to the other side.

I don’t know for sure what will happen in the next few weeks as I get ready for Training. I don’t know what it will feel like to flesh out the rest of these last weeks at home. I don’t know what it will feel like to finish my 90 days. The only thing I know is that each day I wake up I am grateful, humbled, and amazed. This is the person I’ve always wanted to be. And I can’t wait to see what happens next.

Namaste.