Back to the womb – 101

The Ceiba Tree

Many days have passed since my last post.  It was the 100th post on this blog.  Between 100 and 101 I have made an amazing journey back to the womb.

Finally.  I introduced myself to Honduras.

Over the next few days I will share with you the journey made out of my complicated and duplicitous world and into the welcome healing of family, love, food and simplicity.

Several times over the last few days the image of myself in past yoga classes has come unbidden to the front of my mind.  The instructor would pour out the invitation to grind down into the ground, feel the pulse of the earth connect with your feet, clear your mind and feel only the intention.

The intention is alive and I have some very special people to thank for the jumper cables they have been.  Thank you to my Myce for being the genuine and generous person she is, to my Monkey for being the most darling child, to their family for opening their arms to me, to Nena for being a powerhouse of a woman, full of inspiration, and to La Ceiba for being so honest with me.

Advertisements

The First 28

“Do you have the patience to wait till your mud settles and the water is clear?  Can you remain unmoving till the right action arises by itself?” ~Tao-te-Ching 

28 things I have learned in the first 28 days of Singlestreaming:

  1. I need to have objective goals.  This blog has been an experiment in goal-setting and keeping to a resolution.  It is an experiment that has worked.  My goals need to be objective and tied together in bundles in order for them not to be forgotten.
  2. I am batshit crazy for signing up to parade and dance my not so smexy self in Trinidad Carnival 2012.
  3. Migraines can offer inspiration.  It was out of the depths of a migraine that this idea came to me.  And the STAR Singlestream was born.
  4. My friends are amazing people.  The friends who have been here forever, the ones here only for a time,  and the ones I have met through this blog online – they are amazing individuals.  The hugs of God, with unique features, ideas and purposes.  And I am honoured that they take the time out once in a while to share their amazingness with me.
  5. “The world of men won’t be shunned over one asshole’s trickery.” Something I learned from a blogger called cantankerouscanuck
  6. I love to write.  This I have known for some time but I had no idea how crazy-big my love is!  My whole brain is changing into a writers’ brain.  I have committed to post every day – be it goofy musings like the half-naked cat on the walk of shame or the bringing to life of my angst, mirth, constant streaming thoughts.  And it is changing me.  I am looking at each event in the world with the eye of a storyteller, putting together in my head how I would write this moment down.
  7. I hate laundry.  It is taking time out of my writing.
  8. With the joy of blogging comes great responsibility.  To the people in my life, I will be careful with your truths.  You will be handled with honour and respect.
  9. I love to read.  This I have always known but I am a traditionalist, a purist.  I love books – hard cover and paperback.  The kindle has been in my top drawer for a few months and has its uses but my attachment to paper is loyal, fierce, and reinforced by countless amazing memories.  But the world of blogs and the internet are taking a new part of my heart.  What rich loam and verdant vegetation there is out there to gorge on!
  10. The computer age is catching me.  I’m not as backward as I thought.  It turns out the love of the written word transcends attachments to form.  I log on, spend a few minutes or hours feeding on the typed and uploaded lines and leave, head full and ready for a nap.
  11. My body can do this.  I am going to Trinidad.  In fact I am pleased to announce that 3 POUNDS OF BODY FAT have been scared off my body since this time last week.
  12. Yoga is like flushing the toilet of the mind.  It rinses my brain clean of all filth allowing me after to slowly fill it again with carefully selected items of my conscious choice.
  13. There are just too many mommy blogs out there!  Sure, I get that stay-at-home moms have more time to devote to blogging and in fact will probably need blogging as a way to get some adult time in their day.  But tell me honestly, when you become a mom do you lose all sense of self?  Is there no other experience that is yours and yours alone?  Does your own DNA lose purpose?  You are all scaring me!!!
  14. I am a lawyer that needs to learn to spend like an accountant.
  15. Solitude is rich ground for growth.  This period of fulfilling my resolution has been so very instructive that it resembles an out-of-body experience.  I get to observe myself.  I see myself rise, I watch myself fall.  I see myself battle to rise again.  In fact I have now seen the systems initiate the sequence that leads me toward a fall and watch it, helpless, as it happens.  I now know each step in the sequence that leads me closer to the fall.  In watching myself I am learning how to override the system, identify the part that needs to be tweaked for the next time so that the sequence is changed and instead of falling I find myself dumped merrily off somewhere a little bit more to the right of disaster and able to see the value of disaster averted.
  16. The older I get the quicker my temper.
  17. Writing is better than therapy.  For me.  I am not so interested in examining the past and the reasons I got to where I am today.  They will be and continue to be what they are.  What I want to know is how to change where I am and what I am doing now so that in my future I wake up where I want to be or somewhere better.  Writing is the mapping of my journey in the direction of this future where I see therapy as wallowing in the mud of yesterday.  CAVEAT:  Not to say no to therapy – there are some of us who need it.  People with a different makeup than mine, a different past,  different raw material, different damage.  This is just the opinion of the Bushlings about the Bushlings.
  18. Dogs are little pieces of God’s love.
  19. I love my Grandmother.  This is not a topic I have opened to the world.  It will stay for some time in the private diary by my bedside.  This weekend my Grandmother and I took the time out of our storms to learn again to enjoy each other.  And I am reminded of the child I was and the playmate and singer and teller of stories that she was, and hopefully will one day be for my children.
  20. Pink makes me look five years younger.  So I was told on Sunday, the day of my relapse when I found myself silent.  Time to go buy out the pink section of the store!
  21. Relapses happen.  We all feel the urge to quit our commitments, to run.  Get dragged into thoughts we shouldn’t entertain.  Fortunately when I relapse I freeze – I haven’t acted to destroy what I have built.  My friends wouldn’t let me.  And I thank them for it.
  22. I love the feel of soil in my hands.  Wet soil smelling like fertilizer and new life is a cologne I think I could get used to.
  23. There are stories and people in my family tree I have yet to learn about.  None of them are boring.
  24. I want to write a book.  And I know now it can be done.  If I can commit to write every day for a year I can take that discipline forward into my first book, can’t I?
  25. Someone wants to hear what I have to say.  My words aren’t left suspended and unwanted in the air.  This amazes me!  There are readers who have been inspired to put their email address in and subscribe to this experiment and commit to receiving an email from me every day.  A part of me never expected my blog to be read.  Now that it is I am driven, committed, humbled and honoured.
  26. There are days when I miss England.  And Aunty.  But I am learning to do the best with where I am and the internet.
  27. I look like my grandfather.  I didn’t know this until recently.  My grandmother looked at me with new eyes and saw her lover, husband, and friend.  He died at sea before I was born but left for me his eyes and his nose.  Mine are the only green eyes in two families of browns, hazels, and blacks.  They have been a mystery to me.  But now I know!
  28. Gossip is a pet peeve of mine.  It is the clearest indicator of ignorance.  Yes we all do it on one level or another and usually inadvertently.  But the knowing and malicious sort I am allergic to.

The Chair

For a few weeks now I have been simmering in discomfort.  Not a full boil, just a little simmer.  There have been many other things on my mind that kept this discomfort from boiling point, other distractions, until yesterday.  Yesterday I put on my fat jeans and had to do the wiggle to get into them.

Now ladies will know exactly what I mean.  The Fat Jeans are the pair of jeans that are kept in the closet for these moments – the moments when you’re feeling lazy, when you’re bloated, when you don’t want to leave the house, and when you’re… well when you’re FAT.  To have to wiggle, pull and tug and suck in to do the zip on the Fat Jeans is not a good thing.  It needs to change.  Like yesterday.

Since my injury in half-marathon training last year I have struggled to get it together.  The knees creak and complain like they are three times my age.  They have kept me from getting back into the game.  Squats have been a total terror for me.  I fear the pain of bending my knees.

But the Fat Jeans got me into a Bikram Yoga class yesterday.  A studio heated by electic heaters packed wall to mirror with beautiful bodies and hot sweat – just what a girl needs to get her a** in gear… or into her fat jeans.  We started with breathing, stretching with hands locked in Charlies Angels guns to the ceiling until the blood left the fingertips.  And then we entered the chair series.

“Do one thing a day that scares you.”

~the lululemon manifesto 

Every fiber in my body rebelled against it.  The chair.  The squat that changes lives.  Utkatasana.  I closed my eyes and breathed deeply trying to look through my Drishti, the third eye inside your mind.  And looking in there I saw the Fat Jeans, dancing side to side, taunting me.  Slooooow exhale and dammit down I go.  SIT.

“From a standing position, step your feet hip-width apart so you feel grounded and connected to the width of your pelvis. Breathe in deep.  Your feet should be rooted into the ground connecting with the energy of the earth beneath you.  On the exhale, sit down from here into an imaginary chair, keeping your heels on the floor.  You are here for thirty seconds.  Breeeeathe.”

There I sat.  And I sank deeper.  With each exhale I got another inch lower.  Into the deepest squat I think I have ever done.  Space opened up in my mind and in my knees or maybe just in my mind and another half-inch lower.  Pain free.

Isn’t it amazing that doing the one thing that scares you can take you into places you’ve never been before?  Today I am a new woman!  Yes, the Fat Jeans are still tight, but today I am going to the gym.  And tomorrow I will go deeper in that chair.  And on Saturday I am going to run two miles.  And in December I am going to try out the six-mile relay.  And maybe next year the half marathon will look possible again for me.  And maybe before I die I will make it to that medal – the big one – the marathon.