I'm So Tired of Being Alone

Last night when my kids and I got home, we realized that when we left, the garage door had closed most of the way and then gotten stuck on top of a flowerpot. Since the garage door lacks the reversing action, the power was dead by the time we got back. It was super frustrating, and I didn't know what to do about it, so I used my tried-and-true strategy of sleeping on it.

I awoke early in the morning with an insight: maybe I just needed to reset the fuse in order to restore power to the door!? I crept down to the basement with my flashlight and tried it -- but to no avail. I didn't know what to do. After I took my son to school, I went over to the neighbors to ask for help. So far I haven't identified any neighbors at this house like I had in my old neighborhood: People (mainly dudes) who'd come over and fix things whenever I was in a jam. I tried a different house than the one where I struck out last time, but she just gave me the name of a company to call. Not what I was hoping for, but I was pretty desperate, so I called.

The dude on the other end of the phone was not the helpful type either. He told me that he couldn't work on a door that doesn't reverse or have photo sensors. I said I really needed to get it working again and he said to detach the cord and pull it up manually. I didn't understand what he meant by "the cord" and I started to get upset.

I went into my room, both to cry, and to try to figure out the next step. I decided to call a handyman who'd previously done work on my house. I was hoping I could remain calm when I talked to him, but I ended up breaking down on the phone with him, which was embarrassing, but effective. He came over within the hour, and was up on a ladder trying to help me as I recounted my story about waking up early with the insight that I needed to reset the power, but I'd tried that, and it hadn't worked. And then we both glanced over at the mechanism for the door on the ceiling, spied a little black button, pressed it, and voila! Up went the door. I was super relieved. I thanked my knight in Carhartt profusely and off he went.

Back in the kitchen doing dishes, my inner jukebox pulled out the perfect song to express how I was feeling through this ordeal:

I'm so tired of being alone
I'm so tired of on-my-own
Won't you help me girl
Just as soon as you can?

And I realized that I've been basically alone with my homeownership for the five plus years since I left my marriage, and I'm tired of it. In this, too, I want a partner again, because:

I'm so tired of being alone
So tired of being alone
So tired of being alone
I'm so tired of being alone
So tired of being alone
So tired of being alone
I'm so tired of being alone
So tired of being alone
So tired of being alone

All My Days

Listening to this song tonight confirmed what I've been feeling and writing about these past few days: My story is only partially told. Makes sense -- after all, statistically speaking at least -- I have probably only lived about half of my days.

Still, I can relate to most of the song:

Well I have been searching all of my days
All of my days
Many a road, you know
I've been walking on
All of my days
And I've been trying to find
What's been in my mind
As the days keep turning into night

Well I have been quietly standing in the shade
All of my days
Watch the sky breaking on the promise that we made
All of this rain
And I've been trying to find
What's been in my mind
As the days keep turning into night

Well many a night I found myself with no friends standing near
All of my days
I cried aloud
I shook my hands
What am I doing here
All of these days
For I look around me
And my eyes confound me
And it's just too bright
As the days keep turning into night

All that I can really relate to, but this next verse definitely speaks to a destination at which I have not yet arrived:

Now I see clearly
It's you I'm looking for
All of my days
Soon I'll smile
I know I'll feel this loneliness no more
All of my days
For I look around me
And it seems you've found me
And it's coming into sight
As the days keep turning into night
As the days keep turning into night
And even breathing feels all right
Yes, even breathing feels all right
Now even breathing feels all right
It's even breathing
Feels all right

I haven't found the man I'm looking for, or he hasn't found me, or at the very least, we don't know it yet. And that doesn't feel ideal, but it does feel ok.

What doesn't feel ok is that breathing doesn't feel all right or even alright right now. When I try to inhale, I can feel the knot in my back -- right behind my heart -- that won't go away. My exhale also feels limited.

It feels like all this is telling me that I have more grieving to do. I wish I didn't. I'm sick of grief. But I want to be able to breathe easily, and I have to think that my ability to breathe easily and finding the man with whom, with any luck, I'm going to get to spend the second half of my days, are linked.

Guess I know what I need to do...

All That She Wants

One particular line of this song keeps running through my head:

She leads a lonely life
She leads a lonely life

It sounds, inside my head, just as it sounds in the actual song -- oddly upbeat. It doesn't feel like a bad thing, necessarily, but when my babies aren't here, my life outside work and yoga is a pretty solitary affair.

Another reason that those lyrics never bring me down is that they remind me of the nights in Kings Cross -- the red light district in Sydney (yep, Australia) where my friends and I would dance to this song at the KCH in the wee hours of the morning (no such thing as bar time there):

When she woke up late in the morning light
And the day had just begun
She opened up her eyes and thought
Oh what a morning
It's not a day for work
It's a day for catching tan
Just lying on the beach and having fun
She's going to get you

All that she wants is another baby
She's gone tomorrow boy
All that she wants is another baby
All that she wants is another baby
She's gone tomorrow boy
All that she wants is another baby
All that she wants - all that she wants

In those days -- I was 22 -- all that I wanted wasn't another baby. I didn't have any babies yet, and although I knew I wanted them, I wasn't ready. Fast forward a couple of decades to find me now -- at 42 -- with two babies, and although it isn't accurate to say all that I want is another baby, I still dream about it, and I know that my experience with mothering in this world won't be limited to the two children I've given birth to so far. Maybe I'll become a stepmother, maybe my next partner and I will adopt or foster, or maybe I will have another baby.

Who knows? All I know is I'm excited to see what's coming.

I love the next verse, so I'm gonna close with it even if, as astute readers will recognize, trapping a man into being my babydaddy is NOT one of the options I'm considering:

So if you are in sight and the day is right
She's the hunter you're the fox
The gentle voice that talks to you won't talk forever
It is a night for passion
But the morning means goodbye
Beware of what is flashing in her eyes
She's going to get you

All that she wants is another baby
She's gone tomorrow boy
All that she wants is another baby
All that she wants is another baby
She's gone tomorrow boy
All that she wants is another baby...

This Time

I was talking to a friend last night who is also in this in-between space -- kind of out there again -- she'd like to be -- but also still dealing with all the feelings that come with the dissolution of a marriage.

It's difficult, when things don't go our way with one love, not to close ranks around the heart in order to protect it the next time around, just like Tracy's singing about in this song:

This time
I won't show I'm vulnerable
This time
I won't give in first
This time
I will hold out with my love
This time
I will not be hurt

I'm gonna love myself
More than anyone else
I'm gonna treat me right
I'm gonna make you say
That you love me first
And you'll be the one with the most to lose tonight
This time

This time
I won't let my emotions rule my life
This time
I'm gonna keep my heart locked safe inside
This time
I'm gonna be my own best friend
This time
I'm gonna be the one

Methinks some of her vows are healthy, others not so much. In my last relationship, I can honestly say that I let emotions rule longer than really made sense if I were evaluating what I was being offered in that relationship versus what I was getting.

I loved him truly, madly, deeply, and knew that he felt the same about me, only he wasn't prepared to do with that love what I wanted to do with it: treasure it, protect it, nurture it, prioritize it, keep it. I knew that, in my head, but I let my heart, which stubbornly chose to focus only on the madly in love part, rule for as long as he was here with me, and even for a few weeks after he was gone.

I try to have compassion for both of us, to know that we were where we needed to be while we were there, but sometimes that's easier to do than others.

In any case, this time, I won't keep my heart locked safe inside -- I know that letting myself be vulnerable is a huge part of what made my last love so significant for me -- but I will allow my brain to check in every so often and ask how it's going. I will be my own best friend, but I'll talk to my other best friend too, and try to really listen to what we're both saying. And if I know something's not quite right, I'll have the guts to do something about it.

Yep, Tracy, this time, I'm gonna be the one. And so is my friend. With just the right man for each of us.

I just know it...

Kandi

I've heard this song a bunch of times on the radio lately. I rather like the whole thing, but it's the first line that seems to be on repeat in my head:

You've been my queen for longer than you know
My love for you has been
Every step I take, every day I live, everything I see

It's sort of a similar theme to last night's post -- the thought that somewhere out there someone is imagining a life with me just as I'm imagining a life with him. It's not a date for a movie, which would be nice this weekend, but it does keep me just a little bit warmer as the cooler temperatures begin setting in.

My friends seem to think I'm in different spots in terms of my readiness to be out there again, with some saying I am ready and some saying I'm not. I'm not really sure myself. I'm getting there, but I'm not sure I am there -- if I were, I'd probably have a movie date this weekend.

I think it helps that anyone I date who is close to my age is pretty much guaranteed to have been through the sort of heartbreak I feel like -- or at least hope -- I'm at the tail end of:

And it hurts beyond hurt
It was a love that blinds and a love that stings...

I know he called you, baby, baby, all night long
I know he called you, baby, baby, all night long

That's going to help when starting something new, I know it is, but for now, I'm content to wait until the Universe decides I'm ready to meet my match:

Does my love ever touch you?
Does my love ever reach you?
It's never enough, ah, is it never enough?

The one with whom I share a life that is more than enough -- so much better than the feeling of trying to share a life with someone with whom it never was enough. We all deserve more peace than that...

Dream a Little Dream of Me

My kids and I got back from visiting my sister for my nephew's birthday this afternoon, and I was just kinda feeling like hanging at the homestead this evening. But I'd been invited to what seemed like would be a pretty cool party, so after I finished my dinner, I decided to venture out.

After all, I told myself, I've been asking the Universe to hook me up with some new peeps -- and I can't very well expect that to happen in my living room.

The evening didn't disappoint. I saw lots of people I knew and met some new ones too, including a group of people who invited me to a weekly ski event this Winter. Many of the people I talked to were very tall men, too, which is always a plus, though most of them were married.

Not all of them were, though, and as I was walking out to my car at the end of the evening, I heard the first verse of this song...

Stars shining bright above you
Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"
Birds singing in the sycamore trees
Dream a little dream of me

...and hoped that some tall, lovely man was doing just that!

Beautiful

Tonight my son and I had dinner together, and he was talking about what you can learn from TV, even from shows that at first glance may not seem educational, like his fave: South Park. I had to agree with him, and though both my kids think it's goofy that I am into Glee, that show does an amazing job of tackling tough topics such as teen pregnancy and body image.

I've been thinking about the body image issue a lot lately. As my daughter gets older, I want to be sure I am a good role model for her of both healthy diet and exercise and healthy self image. There's really no more powerful messenger on this topic than Mercedes from the Glee cast singing Christina Aguilera's Beautiful:

Don't look at me

Every day is so wonderful
Then suddenly it's hard to breathe
Now and then I get insecure
From all the pain, I'm so ashamed

I am beautiful no matter what they say
Words can't bring me down
I am beautiful in every single way
Yes, words can't bring me down... Oh no
So don't you bring me down today

To all your friends you're delirious
So consumed in all your doom
Trying hard to fill the emptiness
The pieces gone, left the puzzle undone
is that the way it is?

You are beautiful no matter what they say
Words can't bring you down....oh no
You are beautiful in every single way
Yes, words can't bring you down, oh, no
So don't you bring me down today...

No matter what we do
(no matter what we do)
No matter what we say
(no matter what we say)
We're the song inside the tune
Full of beautiful mistakes

Now I'm not saying it was a mistake to chop my hair off -- I did it because I really needed a dramatic change, and it delivered. But I will say that with winter approaching, I am missing my hair. I miss the way it both looked and felt under my hat. I don't like the feeling of being exposed -- either literally, to the elements -- or more figuratively -- by no longer having the masculine ideal of long hair. And it's not just that. I prefer it that way, both in terms of how it looks and in the convenience of being able to put it up.

It's ok. I know it'll grow back. And as it does, I know that I have an opportunity to embrace a beauty that is much deeper than the kind associated with the length of one's hair:

And everywhere we go
(and everywhere we go)
The sun will always shine
(the sun will always, always shine)
And tomorrow we might wake on the other side

Loving the body we're in by being kind to it -- both by not bringing it down with harsh words and by eating well and exercising -- is one of our main missions on this planet -- because it helps us be all we can be in the world.

It would be great if it were simpler, but it just isn't. Not for many of us, anyway. At the hotel gym in Milwaukee I got to talking to a woman who oversees 6 companies now -- by one measure super successful -- but her yo-yoing weight is a never-ending struggle. I reckon the answer to such struggles is to spend more time looking inward, which is a big reason I both practice and teach yoga.

I stumbled on this video a while back online, and along with Christina and Glee, it feels apropos to post it here. It's all about how women see themselves compared to how they look to others, and it's good motivation to connect with the light within so that we can both see and feel it shining, regardless of the length of our hair or our weight on the scale...

Hello Again

I was talking to a friend about the space I'm occupying right now, this in-between stage, and explaining how when my kids aren't around, I feel unmoored. It's not a horrible feeling, but it's not comfortable either. I have a sense that I don't want to fill my life with people or things just to fill my life -- that I want to instead make space for people and activities that really feed me -- mind, body and soul. But doing so leaves a lot of space.

I'm getting used to that feeling when I'm at home. I feel more alone than lonely, which is an important distinction, when I'm snuggled up at home. My bed is once again a place of comfort rather than a vortex of grief with a ghost sleeping next to me, a ghost that never held me or comforted me or pleasured me the way the man it replaced once had.

So I have to say I was surprised that, when I went to Milwaukee and stayed in a hotel last night, I went right back to lonely. I guess in a way it makes sense -- when I traveled when we were together, I always looked forward to our check-in over the phone -- to that feeling of connection even if our bodies were separated for a brief period of time.

This time around, as I tucked myself into my hotel bed, I had only my friends from Glee to keep me company, and when they pulled out this number, I just cried and cried:

Hello again, hello
Just called to say hello
I couldn't sleep at all tonight
And I know it's late
But I couldn't wait

Hello, my friend, hello
Just called to let you know
I think about you ev'ry night
When I'm here alone
And you're there at home, hello

Maybe it's been crazy
And maybe I'm to blame
But I put my heart above my head
We've been through it all
And you loved me just the same
And when you're not there
I just need to hear

Hello, my friend, hello
It's good to need you so
It's good to love you like I do
And to feel this way
When I hear you say, hello

We tried continuing to talk after he left, but it didn't bring up the feelings for me that Neil talks about here. It didn't feel good to need him so when he'd made the decision not to be with me and my kids. It didn't feel good to love him while watching our lives move apart from each other, with no plan for them to come back together. And it didn't feel good to hear him say hello. It felt excruciating -- it felt like "here is the voice of the person I most want to be saying hello to me, the same person who said goodbye to our life together."

And so, it's going to be a while before I get to the point where I'm going to want to talk to him again. For me that time isn't going to come until I've moved on, until both the greeting and the conversation can be much more casual than the loaded hello of which Neil so beautifully sings:

Hello, my friend, hello
Just called to let you know
I think about you ev'ry night
And I know it's late
But I couldn't wait
Hello

If You Leave

This morning I woke up long before I actually got out of bed. It's such a peaceful time, that time in between wakefulness and sleep. I also recently learned from Jonah Lehrer's Imagine that it is the time of day most often filled with insight. He even suggests setting your alarm before you have to get up so you can lie in bed and give yourself space to think and get inspired.

I've been dealing once again with pain in my back, only this time, it's not the base of the spine, and it's not my neck -- it's the mid-low back. That, and an area of tightness right behind my heart that vacillates between merely annoying and somewhat debilitating. Yep, that's my body's not-so-subtle way of saying we're not done dealing with this heartbreak.

When this song came to me during insight time this morning, it felt like an old friend that finally came calling again after being away too long. But I also wondered why it hadn't come to me during the big leaving I experienced this summer?

If you leave, don't leave now
Please don't take my heart away
Promise me just one more night
Then we'll go our separate ways

We always had time on our side
But now it's fading fast
Every second, every moment
We've gotta, we've gotta make it last

I touch you once I touch you twice
I won't let go at any price
I need you now like I needed you then
You always said, "We'd still be friends someday"

If you leave I won't cry
I won't waste one single day
But if you leave, no don't look back
I'll be running the other way

Seven years went under the bridge
Like time was standing still
Heaven knows what happens now
You've gotta, you've gotta say you will

I touch you once, I touch you twice
I won't let go at any price
I need you now like I needed you then
You always said, "We'd still be friends someday, someday"

I touch you once, I touch you twice
I won't let go at any price
I need you now like I needed you then
You always said, "We'd still be friends someday"

Oh, if you leave
Oh, if you leave
Oh, if you leave
Oh, if you leave
Please don't leave

All I can think is that maybe it hit a little too close to home? Maybe I wasn't up for singing my pain quite like this when I was right in the middle of it? I'm not sure.

But it's here now, and listening to it, reading the lyrics, knowing that this is exactly what I've been through, makes me wonder how I survived it. How anyone survives devastating losses.

Resiliency. Grace. Faith. Friendship. Music. Thanks guys. Couldn't have done it without you...

Got to Get You Into My Life

I took the day off today, ostensibly to do some long overdue fall yard work, but I have to admit I really wasn't that bummed when it turned out to be a rainy day. I spent the morning curled up in bed -- not sleeping -- catching up on emails and reading Memoir Revolution: Write Your Story. Change the World.

I also made a couple of phone calls I don't seem to be able to get to while I'm at work, including one to Dry Hootch to see if they'd be interested in a yoga class for veterans. The person there with whom I spoke totally got why I would want to do that, and he got the need for it -- he said that in this country, 22 Vets kill themselves every day -- but he also said the population I'm targeting (younger vets like my coworker who killed himself last month) is notoriously hard to reach. Undeterred, I told him I'd set about finding a space and then get back in touch with him so that he could help get the word out.

It was also a treat to be able to go to yoga in the middle of the day, and not just any yoga, but yoga with my current favorite teacher. A week or two ago I was feeling all insecure in his class -- comparing my clothes, boobs, hair, flexibility and proficiency with my fellow classmates -- but today I didn't feel that at all.

Instead, I felt playful, which was a welcome change (even if it meant falling over a couple of times while attempting tougher poses).

Yep, this upbeat Beatles number really captures my mood today (the Glee version is also fun):

I was alone, I took a ride,
I didn't know what I would find there
Another road where maybe I could see another kind of mind there

Ooh, then I suddenly see you,
Ooh, did I tell you I need you
Every single day of my life?

Now I'm not at the point where I'm ready to say I need anyone every single day of my life. But I do want to put it out to the Universe that the person I've Got to Get Into My Life this time around, when we're both good and ready, is a person who both shares the goal of and has the energy to help make the world a kinder, safer, more honest place:

You didn't run, you didn't lie
You knew I wanted just to hold you
Had you gone, you knew in time, we'd meet again
For I had told you

Ooh, you were meant to be near me
Ooh, and I want you to hear me
Say we'll be together every day

Got to get you into my life

What can I do, what can I be,
When I'm with you I want to stay there
If I'm true I'll never leave
And if I do I know the way there

Ooh, then I suddenly see you,
Ooh, did I tell you I need you
Every single day of my life?

Got to get you into my life
Got to get you into my life

And if I can, one way I'm gong to try to do that is by offering a free yoga class to vets...

Somebody to Love

I don't know if I've ever liked Queen as much as I do in this video -- check out that row of beers on the piano! So classic. But it was Glee that brought this song to my attention tonight:

Can anybody find me somebody to love?
Each morning I get up I die a little
Can barely stand on my feet
Take a look in the mirror and cry
Lord what you're doing to me
I have spent all my years in believing you
But I just can't get no relief,
Lord!
Somebody, somebody
Can anybody find me somebody to love?

I sure hope so, and this time, how about a happy ending, please?

These last few days have not been easy. I decided to go on a detox diet because I've been feeling a little puffy after spending the summer, or at least part of the summer, drowning my sorrows. Giving up booze hasn't been hard -- even had a reunion with some college guy friends sans beer on Friday night -- but giving up caffeine is a bitch. I've had a headache for days and around 3pm, with 3 hours left in my work day (I stayed late since I was subbing a yoga class at 6:15pm), I gave in and had a cup of caffeinated tea:

I work hard every day of my life
I work till I ache my bones
At the end I take home my hard earned pay all on my own -
I get down on my knees
And I start to pray
Till the tears run down from my eyes
Lord - somebody - somebody
Can anybody find me - somebody to love?

(He works hard)

Like Freddie's, my work has been pretty frustrating lately -- my policy expertise seems to matter very little in the face of politics:

Everyday - I try and I try and I try -
But everybody wants to put me down
They say I'm goin' crazy
They say I got a lot of water in my brain
Got no common sense
I got nobody left to believe
Yeah - yeah yeah yeah

Good thing that job's not my only reason for being. One of my regular Tuesday noon yoga students brought a friend to the class I was subbing tonight and afterward he introduced himself and then said: "I need to get you into my pms -- that was awesome!" Which was too cute. And last week one of my regular students told me that while he was mountain biking he was struggling through a climb and he heard my voice reminding him to exhale fully -- love that the message sometimes follows them outside of class!

Anyway, I'm sleepy. Off to bed for me, and tonight I'm joining Queen in this prayer:

Find me somebody to love
Can anybody find me somebody to love?

Dog Days Are Over

It isn't often I do a twofer on this blog -- but I think this counts -- even if the Florence songs are marking days that have unmarked days in between.

Especially since Florence has been singing this song in my ear for days now:

The dog days are over
The dog days are done...

...ever since the chill came into the air, the leaves started to turn and fall off the trees. And I, for one, couldn't be happier that the dog days of summer are over. This, coming from someone whose favorite season has been summer as long as I can remember. Not this year.

Today my son and I climbed a tree together, and I told him as we sat aloft that I thought I was ready to officially change my favorite season from Summer to Fall. "I like Spring the best," he said. It still feels hot in the Fall." Uh-huh. And this girl loves her some warmth.

I feel like I should wait until next year to see if the feeling sticks, because part of me thinks that the reason I lost that lovin' feeling for Summer was because I had such a shitty summer this year.

Nah -- it's more than that. In the summer, while I enjoyed riding my bike along the lakeshore path to work, it tended to be hot and buggy. This morning it was so crisp and so perfect that it made me feel like all is right with the world:

Happiness, hit her like a train on a track
Coming towards her, stuck still no turning back
She hid around corners and she hid under beds
She killed it with kisses and from it she fled
With every bubble she sank with a drink
And washed it away, down the kitchen sink

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are coming
So you better run

Run fast for your mother and fast for your father
Run for your children for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your longing behind you
Can't carry it with you if you want to survive

Gotta correct you a bit on that last verse though, Florence. I agree with you on leaving your longing behind you -- it is indeed very difficult to survive when longing is the focus of your existence -- but this Autumn-lover says keep the love and carry it with you everywhere you go...

Shake It Out

I went to yoga at the same time today as yesterday, but the experience was totally different. This time, I wasn't thinking how much I hated yoga or how tight I was or in any way beating myself up. Thank goodness!

I'm not sure what to attribute the difference to -- it could be that I worked through the hard, "stuck" stuff yesterday leaving myself in a much more free practice space, it could be that my feelings about the teacher today are more straightforward than my feelings for the teacher yesterday, it could be because today's class was Ashtanga where you know what to expect and thus in some ways you're less vulnerable -- or it could be a combination of all of those.

All I know is, I felt better today, and that feeling wasn't just limited to yoga. I even did some yard work today (which I normally avoid), with the help of my daughter and her friend, and while raking, I heard these words from my internal ipod:

It's always darkest before the dawn

I reckon that's the truth, and that after all that darkness this summer:

And I've been a fool and I've been blind
I can never leave the past behind
I can see no way, I can see no way
I'm always dragging that horse around

...the dawn is finally here.

It took letting go, for real, to get to this point. Like Florence, I had to bury the pastured horse that represents the love I had in order to feel ok about simply living the life that's in front of me:

Our love is pastured, such a mournful sound
Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground
So I like to keep my issues drawn
But it's always darkest before the dawn

Indeed it is. But the dawn's here now, and with it the opportunity to be very clear about what I need in my next partner. Here's hoping it won't end up being pastured or needing to be buried like the last one!

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh whoa

Give Me Novacaine

I heard this song this afternoon and it reminded me of how I felt during my yoga class this morning:

Take away the sensation inside
Bitter sweet migraine in my head
It's like a throbbing toothache of the mind
I can't take this feeling anymore

Yep, I felt like the last place I wanted to be was in my body, which you're kinda forced to be when you're in class and on the mat. I hadn't been to the studio since Monday evening because both my wrists and my neck were really bothering me. That, and I paid a visit to one of my favorite healers who reminded me that anything that becomes compulsive is more likely to be feeding the "must fix myself" rather than the "I make choices that are right for myself in the moment." And it had definitely gotten compulsive. I ignored for too long both my sore neck and the feeling that I was hurting myself in some of the poses because I "had" to practice six days per week.

I hope one day I'll be able to find discipline without compulsivity -- right now, I'm not sure I understand the relationship between the two. In any case, I decided to go back to the studio today, but chose a non-Ashtanga class with a different teacher (who just happens to be super hot and completely my type) hoping I'd catch a bit of a break.

It didn't go down that way. This teacher is very hands-on, and at one point, in a supine twist, he came over and pressed down on one shoulder and the opposite hip which felt awesome but also quickly started up the waterworks. I couldn't completely let 'er rip with the tears but I definitely had quite a release and felt completely different after class than I did before it.

That's right, yoga class was my own special version of Novacaine:

Drain the pressure from the swelling,
This sensations overwhelming,
Give me a long kiss goodnight
and everything will be alright...

My Immortal

I guess I knew grief came in waves but I'm really struggling at the moment with how hard my life feels. I believe things happen for a reason but I'm finding it hard not to find fault with someone or something for what I'm going through right now.

Spending time with a girlfriend whose relationship is somewhat similar to the one I just had was definitely helpful in terms of recognizing the aspects of it that I don't want for myself. Perhaps it also brought up some hard feelings about why I found myself in the position I did, why I ignored both internal and external guidance alerting me to the fact that I'd lost my own equilibrium. But it was and is tough to sort it all out, because while a part of me had lost my center, another part was more fully occupying it than ever before.

One way for me to make peace with myself about events in my life that are difficult is to recognize what it is teaching me about the world I live in and the people with whom I share it, and this experience is no exception. Before my last relationship, I didn't understand why people were in relationships where from the outside you could see that one person was more accommodating than the other (which is a simplification of all kinds of dynamics), but now I get it. In the context of that relationship, everything I did was 100% worth it. I believed so strongly that it was "right" -- that if I just gave a little more we'd get to the point where the scales tipped and he'd slide right into the space I'd wanted him to occupy: the space of knowing the truth about love and being guided by that truth to what seemed to me an inevitable conclusion.

Instead, the opposite happened. He saw and recognized the truth of our love but couldn't or wouldn't allow that to continue to guide him the way he did earlier in our relationship. And I was absolutely powerless over that dynamic.

Part of my healing process has been to recognize that it's ok for me to have wanted, and in some ways, to continue to want, the full manifestation of the great love that I experienced with him. I don't have to pretend to be ok with less than that when I'm not ok with less than that; nor do I have to try to get myself to be ok with having a relationship with him where I am getting less than that. I want it all, and I want it all with him, and if I can't have it all with him, then I'm going to have to have nothing with him so that space can be created for another possibility.

This song has been playing on my internal ipod -- and it cuts to the heart of what I'm talking about here:

I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

I'm learning that to continue to share my spiritual self with him -- the self that saw his wholeness, and saw mine reflected in him -- that doesn't cost me anything. But to continue to share the human, earthly part of me, well, that just prolongs the agony of losing this person with whom I first experienced the manifestation of this at-once mortal and immortal love:

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along

I'm also learning that this is my job right now -- to learn how to see my own wholeness -- to be able to be alone and be complete at the same time. At least right now, it's nowhere near as comfortable as where I was, but I think this is, in part, because I'm doing things differently. And even if I'm not comfortable, I do have a strong sense that this is what I need to be doing...