Gilead

What's right now? What's happening right now?  My friend Stephanie shared a video this morning about living in the hard spaces. When you are at the end of the rope, ready to collapse, shaking and trembling, what then? She shared a story from when she taught yoga and took her class through the holding of a posture. As the posture was held, as the muscles began to shake and the mental game turns into "I can't do this, i need to be done, i need to collapse into child's pose" she would say "the shaking means you're still in this. you haven't given up yet." I wrote a letter to a friend this week detailing a specific aspect of grief i am currently finding challenging. It's not the ache of loss itself but one of those unexpected side notes that pop up as a result of the drastic shift that just took place, and i wasn't writing to get an answer so much as i was writing to give voice to what i was feeling. And she replied with "Oh, it...

Life moves on. One day the worst day in the world feels like yesterday and you can still feel the physical ache from the surgery and the next day you've started a new job and are worried about normal people things like taking your dog to the vet and being annoyed about people who drive too slow and wondering how you can get in another workout. And its not that in the days that have passed I haven't thought about Paris, its just that grief has taken on a new flavor. I've started a new job and am teaching yoga at a few new studios and everything is transforming. My mind has been full of things like class attendance and these new pants i want to buy and how money is still so tight between paychecks as we try to catch up from all the months i spent not working. this morning was the first morning i woke up in over a week with no where to be. And from the minute i blinked open my eyes i could feel anxiety gripping my chest. I could feel the frantic energy of grief begin to eme...