Calming Down...

I have been taking a yoga class since the beginning of the year, at Yoga On The Park on Sherbrooke. I love it there. It's peaceful. My teacher Joanne is patient and gentle and kind. I come away from the class relaxed, exhausted (because who knew Yoga could be such a workout??) and happy.

I have noticed a shift in myself. It used to be that I would fidget, bounce around, ham it up as it were - yes, even in a yoga class. I remember I once took an African dance class, meant as an exercise. I felt so self-conscious (jiggling around in front of a full length mirror) I actually asked the teacher if he wanted to pair it up with a self-esteem class (physician heal thyself I always say) ... my self-consciousness manifesting in my refusal to calm down and follow instructions, better to be noticed for the clown I can be than the uncomfortable student, ashamed of her body, or lack of dancing finesse .. or who knows what.

Well I'm really happy to report that on this side of 50 all that seems to have disappeared, not that I'm running to the next African dance class - but I am so much more centred and at peace and accepting of myself.  It isn't about what others see or are doing any more. I dont even need to be noticed by the teacher anymore - even though her gentle touch makes me feel special and cared for.  It's about my investment in me. It's about my relationship with my self, my body, my sense of who I am, the space I take up.

A lot of folk complain about aging... but I gotta tell you, the experience of no longer being tethered to a need for approval, or a need to be noticed is incredibly freeing. I'm grateful to be able to experience it. I'm grateful to be conscious enough to notice it.

April 28.... What it is, and what it's not.

What a frustrating day. I have waited since the beginning of December for a doctor's appointment I had this morning. My appointment was for 10:15, I was asked to show up for 9:15 for x-rays and a CT scan (which never happened). I showed up at 8:45 because I'm German. Whatever. Well, I left that office at 12:15!! The x-rays only took 10 minutes. The rest of the time was spent waiting. And it is not lost on me that I ought to be grateful for the appointment. Really? I mean honestly, if that doctor worked for me, I would fire them for the poor time management skills. As if all that wasn't frustrating enough - my hip x-rays never made to the doctor, and she refused to do anything about that; and she completely ignored the physiotherapist's letter. Bah! And all this on Princess Day!!!!

So - I am in fact grateful that I know what is wrong with my foot. At least now I can strategize. I realize that's warped gratitude but there you have it.

My day didn't end there though.

I sent an email today - stating that I would no longer participate in certain meetings because they were chaotic and caused me too much stress. The recipient replied that she had never received such an insulting email. I replied saying - that is how you are interpreting it, not me. I am not insulting anyone, I am looking out for myself. And you know what, I am proud of it. I wish I had been that assertive with the doctor!

So I am grateful that at least some of the time I find my voice and stick up for myself. That I know when something isn't good for me, and I do something about it. That's worth being grateful for because I remember a time in my life I wouldn't have been "able" to notice even that I needed to speak up, let alone think myself worth doing it for. I'm grateful that has changed.

March 12.... lessons

This has been a tough week. I'm glad it's Friday. I'm glad I'm home with Honey, we're having a quiet little dinner, glass of wine, Johnny Cash, it's all good.

This week I learned that I am grateful my mother .. was it my mother???? taught me to stand up for myself, to use my voice, to say hey, what I'm feeling is important. And while doing that - standing up and all - may cause a hornet's nest worth of poo to stir up, and feels awfully uncomfortable, it's gotta be done people, it's gotta be done. I met a woman this week who never learned that, and it's sad, sad in the saddest of senses. What's sad is that woman reminds me I'm grateful for my voice, in the same way thinking of my mother reminds me I'm grateful for my voice - it's the lack of their own that shows me the power of mine. I feel like there may be something not right in that... but I'm grateful for my voice none the less.

And after this long, stressful and weary making week ... I'm grateful for my home, my Honey, my life, my strength, my ability to make choices and understand things; I'm grateful for change, for friends, for the love in my life - cause really, I realize, it sustains me.

Happy Friday.