Scissorina

When I moved into my own apartment years ago, first time sans roommates, I chopped many a thing to make my new budget work.  No more dinners out, no more travel (besides visits to family), no extravagant purchases at the grocery store, no clothes shopping – and no more yoga classes.

I had been practicing Ashtanga at Yoga Space in Brookfield for quite some time and it was my sanctuary.  Pre-move, I had what could be called a…. tumultuous relationship.  (Some might say poisonous, if not pussyfooting around it.)  I was the sole provider – of food, money, support, love.  Anyway, while trying to hold that shipwreck together, I found strength in my body.  While practicing Ashtanga, my body became the fittest it’s ever been, really.  I was at my ideal weight, I was toned, I was strong.  I looked forward to that butt kicking session every Tuesday and Thursday – I always left feeling better than when I walked in.

Once the shipwreck sank and I found a place to call my own, I had to organize my priorities.  Yoga was one of the first expenses to go.  Classes kept getting more expensive and my studio was a bit of a drive, so I couldn’t even afford the gas to get me there anymore.  While this was out of necessity, I look back wishing I could have done something different.  Post shipwreck Sarah was … well… a wreck.  She could have done with some butt kicking yoga – and needed it more than ever before.  But, alas.  I was poor and there was simply no way to have it all.

So, years went by.  I’m sure my budget shifted and changed – especially after my living situation changed. (Ahem, enter the wondrous SteveKam.)  But, for some reason, yoga never made it back to the top of my priority list.  It had become something I thought of as a luxury, not a necessity.   I kept saying that I’d get back into it someday…. more years went by.

I’m not sure what came over me a week ago, but I found myself clicking on the website of a local chain of studios and before I could overthink it and come up with the usual excuses, I had purchased an unlimited monthly pass and was marking my calendar with class times.

Let me share with you my observations in the past week (in which I have taken 3 classes):

• I am rusty.  But, my instructors make me forget that within 5 minutes of walking through the door.  (Starting back with Hatha and Hatha Flow to get a solid refresher.)  One teacher told me she feels that we are all new students each day.  Good reminder.  It’s not a race.  It’s not a competition.  I am not being graded.  Who cares if my neighbor can twist into a pretzel with a smile on her face and I am barely bent in half?  That’s not what it’s about.  It is reminding me how badly I need a space in my life where I do not put this pressure on myself.

• That being said, I must acknowledge (honesty time!) that I can no longer even touch my toes.  But, I am getting closer with each class and feel taller, longer, looser by the day.  It is truly amazing how quickly you can regain your flexibility.  Again, I’m faced with the fact that this was something keeping me from going back to yoga – embarrassment.  Well, screw that.  We all have to start somewhere and some us have to start there a few times.

• Quiet time is something I do not allow myself anywhere else.  I can already feel how precious this time alone in my body and head is.  My mind doesn’t slow down too often – learning (re-learning) to make it do so is such a valuable life skill.

• I feel BETTER when I leave than when I walked through the door.  This is the big one.  My body feels better – and at the risk of sounding like a fruitcake, my soul feels better.  I feel like this must be what religious people get out of going to church.  (I know that sounds so ignorant, but I have always envied my friends who clearly gain so much from their varied congregations, while my experience with organized religion has always been uncomfortable.)  I feel grounded, balanced and clear after my practice.  All the problems I had when I arrived are still there, but I feel better equipped to tackle them.

So, yeah.  Impulsive website clicking was, in this instance, absolutely for the best.

Will I be able to keep up this pace?  3-4 classes a week is a lot of time to invest – I am sure there will come a time when this won’t work for me.  Will I be able to keep this in my budget?  It’s a financial investment and I’m sure there will come a time when other things (or small people) will need to take priority over an unlimited yoga pass.  But, I can’t put too much energy into those thoughts right now.

Right now, I am just enjoying this amazing feeling I have allowed myself.

Well, here it is.  A new year.  The emotions I feel upon facing Two Thousand Twelve range from excited to nervous to hopeful to who knows what else.  But, to answer Budd’s eternal question, the biggest R I’m feeling right now is Relief.

2011 was the year from Hell.  Now, look – I get it.  I got married in 2011 and that is a magical, special thing.  Our wedding (which maybe I will post about someday, right?) was a really amazing day and we loved the heck out of it.  It was incredible to have so many people we adore  in one place and all in our  new hometown.  It was important that SteveKam and I made our promises to each other OUT LOUD and in front of all those people.  It matters.  It’s important.  It was great.

But, let’s face it.  One day a year does not make.  We battled with our budget as we tried to recover from our big move (totally worth it though , of course), I found myself becoming more concerned about details than about calling my friends back on the telephone, we grumped at those we loved and grumped at each other.

And then there was Kyra.

Why the universe would choose that time to reclaim the sweetest soul whom had ever been a part of my life was a question I asked (and still ask) on pretty much a daily basis.  She was my best friend.  I lost her.  It hurt.  It still hurts.

The circumstances and timing surrounding her passing made the bulk of 2011 very painful, to be honest.  If I am being very honest, I would tell you that it made it incredibly difficult to continue planning a big, happy day meant to be filled with joy and love.  I really struggled.

The thing of it is… I went into kind of a zombie mode during that post-Kyra time.  I just kept going.  I had no choice.  I just wanted to get through it.  After the wedding, I woke up a little… long enough to fall in love with a sweet little pup and welcome her into our family…. but before I knew it, it was time to think about holidays and cope with the fact that my parents were moving overseas (that’s another post, too).  One morning I woke up … and would you look at that?  It was January 1.

So, I’m left here – feeling like my rigid little limbs are unfurling from the (cannon)ball I had tucked myself into for nigh on 10 months.  My eyes are readjusting to the light.   My ass — my big post wedding ass — is all pins and needles.

I greet 2012 with a sigh.  I’m so glad to have an entire year ahead of me.  I’m not usually one to get into making resolutions, but I find myself kind of excited to promise new things to myself.  After spending the better part of one year planning an event and tending to a sick loved one… yeah, I’d like to promise myself to take yoga again.  And hey!  I’m going to lose that last bit of weight I never got around to, too.  And while I’m at it, why not work on building something monetary out of all that damn work I did last year?  I am also promising myself to get out and about more this year – because you know what?  Now I have the time.

I’m starting to live up to one promise already by writing this post.  I am promising to be more honest with myself.  I am promising to face my fears and my insecurities.  I am promising to work on them.  I am promising (oh God, I am reeeeeeally trying to promise) to be kinder to myself from now on.  It is okay to be imperfect – it is okay to not be the best at every single thing you do every single day.  I think I need to write this stuff down to remind myself that it is true (or at least it is true to 98.752% of the world. I am part of that 2.248% still trying to grasp such easy concepts).

So, here’s to Two Thousand Twelve.  May it be gentle.