inward facing dog

weo, i did it, am doing it. i am examining myself and why i've been on such a short fuse--banging cupboard doors and drawers with disproportionate growling irateness (ok, so it still sounds relatively tame but the physical toll, the cellular attrition of such "restraint" is smothering the vitality out of me).

it could be the stress of having 4 jobs at two workplaces and fulltime workload expectations. it could be mine own hot temperment, unresolved grief, and emotional childhood wounds in desperate need of healing. it could be the chafing demands of balancing infinite-love-motherhood with 30+ years of self-centered Self ("i just need mother-fracking 15 minutes" when minutes become hours and whole days pass by). it could be the strain of a relationship deferred to all of the above. and it is all of the above. no duh, but causality is only slightly less ... interesting than the effects, the symptoms of a deteriorating inner life and a dusty social life.

so, i've enacted a 21st millenial cliche. i started doing yoga. downward facing dog has transformed my Life; i refer to my instructor as my guru; i wear OM jewelry, tribal yoga tatts and organic fair trade tibetan hemp parachute pants; my house now has a fountain & shrine dedicated to an eclectic pantheon of hindu and buddhist goddesses; and most importantly, i greet all people with prayer hands and a hushed "namaste" to socially mark my profound spiritual conversion.

ok, mostly a lie. i'm not a smug, middle class white born -again-yogini searching for the meaning of life in the consumption of other people's culture. i have a small soul and a petty mind and i couldn't resist mocking the Smuggles.

i do do yoga though, restorative yoga. it helps me to stretch out muscles rigid with a lifetime of tension, the gimpy arthritic limbs, and the habititude of pain. i am not transformed but then i don't expect instant gratification. it is enough that for one hour, once a week, i can breathe and quiet the riot of a bazillion synapses.

and, i sat down T and admitted the festering emotions--the rage, resentment, almost hatred, and then scariest of all, the nothing, that i sometimes felt. towards him. my bestest friend. the toll that homeownership, marriage, mourning, and now, parenting have taken on my half of the relationship over the last ten plus years.

(to be continued..)