Dearly Departed

Life's just easier when the sun shines for this girl

Yesterday was a tough day. It started off well enough -- practicing yoga with one of my favorite practice partners. But then it devolved into a visit to the dermatologist, which, as per usual, resulted in a biopsy, this time from the top of my forehead. If you look closely in the photo, you can see the spot -- not as well as you could have seen it yesterday, mind you, when my Dr. clearly marked it, like a bullseye, with a bright blue marker.

Then in the afternoon, I had the distinct honor of visiting my dentist for a crown repair. This morning a friend left me a voicemail telling me that "applying a growth mindset, it was actually smart to get those both out of the way in the same day." Mmmmaybe, but it didn't feel good. I guess growth kinda doesn't though, does it?

In any case, after those two encounters, I crawled into bed for a nap, which, on such a cold day, was delightful. And I probably would've stayed there, right up until it was time to get up for yoga at 4:30 this morning, except that I had to give a guest lecture last night. That's right, with a bullseye on my forehead. I also had to meet the professor, who is also a friend and colleague, for dinner beforehand. So up I rose, and it's probably a good thing I did, because this morning when I got to work, I had an email from one of the students thanking me for the "heartfelt, inspiring" presentation and asking me to consider running for State Superintendent. Which, I gotta say, made me feel pretty great.

That email was just one of the pieces of love I received today -- I think in part because I had a moment yesterday when I kinda cried out to whoever was listening: "Really? This is what you've got for me? One hit after another? No breaks?"

Another piece of love was a text from a close friend asking how things were going and saying she was thinking of me. Another was a phone call from a friend and colleague on his drive to work this morning. And another was a text from another friend, one I'd confided in earlier in the week, saying she was thinking of me and giving me the link to this song:

Oooooh
Oooooh
Oooooh
Oooooh

Well
You and I both know that the house is haunted
And you and I both know that the ghost is me
You used to catch me in your bed sheets just rattlin your chains
Well back then baby, it didn't seem so strange

Even when one is dead and gone (or, say, once again living in New England)
It still takes two to make a house a home
Well I'm as lonesome as the catacombs
I hear you call my name but no one is there
Except a feeling in the air

You and I both know that the house is haunted
Yeah you and I both know that the ghost is you
Used to walk around screaming, all slamming all 'dem doors
Well I'm all grown up now, I don't scare easy no more

Yeah, you and I both know
Oooohh
Yeah, you and I both know
Oooohh
Yeah, you and I both know
Oooohh
Oooohh

Yeah, you and I both know. But it's ok. Really. I asked my first love how long it took him to get over his biggest heartbreak -- and he said at least 2 years. So I'm doing ok. By one measure -- when the New Englander left Madison -- it's been 18 months, but by another -- the last time we communicated -- it's been a week. In either case, I've got time. It's ok that the house still feels haunted today. I can handle it, and I trust that one day it won't.

Overall, I gotta say, today was soooo much easier than yesterday. Today I had a lovely early morning practice with another favorite yoga buddy followed by breakfast from one of my favorite spots -- Lazy Jane's. Then work for a few hours, followed by a haircut and brow wax (note the after photo above), more work, then acupuncture, then parent teacher conferences for my son. Who is seriously rocking high school.

Yep, lots to celebrate. And lots of love.

On a more somber note, it feels apropos that this song is marking this day not just because my friend sent it to me, but because another friend's husband's mother died today. I'm sending out lots of love to her and her family and everyone else out there with a dearly departed loved one -- whether the departure is permanent or not -- I know it hurts like crazy...