So I’m dating, sort of. Although, I’m home on a Friday night, underneath my sheepskin, reveling in my extroverted introversion. In spite, I feel like somebody is on the imminent horizon and no second glass of Chardonnay is going to quell my queasiness. In spite of myself, I’ve just got to soften into it. The best description is hard work manifesting. I am a tenacious lotus flower blooming through mud and mess, semi-open, fragile, hopelessly inverted.
Oftentimes at the end of a yoga practice on the mat I teach a posture called Viparita Karani, loosely translated as legs up the wall; gently upside down, heart kind of below head, life can unscramble. The general theory is an energy reversal, a calming of the limbic system, combined with deep diaphragmatic breathing, throw in your favorite calming music for good measure, maybe an easy transformation. I’ve spent a lot of time on my back in this posture, begging the powers that be to show me the way.
Everything is different, discombobulated, upside down now that I’m dating, and I don’t get it. But I breathe and build the posture any way; doing what I know how to do, evoking promises long dormant in my soul. On my back, in the moment, I’m suddenly reminded of my 66 year old customer Mary Jane and her 93 year old mother who fought viciously on a Mother’s Day not so long ago. “I went home and did legs up the wall, Susan,” Mary Jane informed me. “And then I went back and apologized to my mother.”
I breathe and remember and send out love to myself. Mary Jane and her mother as well.
Maybe there is hope.