"Noon comes and turns this campus upside down/I watch the students in this
college town/You would think they're carefree, I have seen their trials/
Frowning into Shakespeare and practicing their smiles/Even underlining
Nabokov/When I am not in love, in love/It happens every day/With their journals in cafes/Looking up at their reflections on the other wall/With every new idea, wondering if they've changed at all/Then they turn away/It happens every day."
--Dar Williams, "It Happens Every Day."


It happened again. It seems that whenever I go to yoga now, since I've been home, it's turned into some strange, emotional experience by the time savasana rolls around. Katie was back teaching her first class since she left for Mysore in the winter, and I was so excited to see her. She made a special introduction to the class, noting that there was someone she had a special Mysore connection with in the class, that being me. We chatted after class, it was nice to have someone here who has also been there. Anyhow, during the opening invocation something hit me, I think it was her intonation. She was using the same intonation that was used in India and it made me smile, made me feel like I was part of something, belonged to a community of crazy yogis with whom I really fit.
Class was good, but my left hamstring is still really bothering me in the prasarita series(A, B, C and D) while in Mysore my head was on the floor in all of them except B, it's now hovering a good 4-6 inches off the ground in all of them, because my hamstring is still too sensitive. Otherwise it was a nice practice that moved at a pretty good pace. My backbends felt good and I got an awesome Sheshadri-esque adjustment in sarvangasana. Then the rest of finishing and savasana,and *bam* the emotional thing happened again. I was just there, on my mat, trying to relax, feeling really very spaced-out (in a wonderful, calm, meditative way)when I started to feel a little teary. What is it that's opened or is in the process of opening that's causing all this? Is it just the realization of my experiences in Asia that's causing so much stuff to come to the surface? So there I was, a touch emotional and I was thinking about everything that's changed in the past year, and not the obvious stuff like graduating and travelling, but the more subtle, personal stuff.
A year ago where was I? Here, at home in Ontario, working full time and going to school 4 nights a week. It was a horrible summer, but I did what I had to do to graduate early. Sure I went to school without a break for 16 months straight, but it was worth it. Where was I emotionally though? I was unsure, kind of unstable. My heart was somewhere, with someone who no longer wanted my affections. I couldn't let go, my grasp couldn't be loosened. Despite the heartache and the years of on-again-off-again instability I was grasping for something, anything, and the thought of nothing was unfathomable and heartbreaking. I was unsure of where my life was heading, scared, nervous, shaking at the thought of sending out law school applications. I got information packages sent from a number of schools, and to this day they're sitting untouched, unopened, because I was too stressed and too worried to even open them.
And now, it's as though I've been visited by a fairy godmother and circumstances and outlooks have been magically changed, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that no pumpkins appear at midnight. That person that I couldn't let go of has been set adrift from my heart and my memories. There was a time when I would fantasize about not thinking about him every day, and I had the realization while I was in Mysore that that has come to pass. What happened? Well, I tried once more, valiantly and with all I had to make it work even though I knew it was a stretch and that his heart had slipped away awhile ago, and then I got my heartbroken all over again. Something I should have seem coming, something I did see coming, but chose to ignore...selective intuition. Was it India? Was it Singapore (or rather, stuff that happened in Singapore)? I have no idea, but I do remember driving home to Delhi from the Taj Mahal and realising that I'd let it all go. It must be drifting away on Bali's waves, or sitting lonely on a Singaporean subway car, but wherever it is, it's vanished, and for that I am very thankful, and a little bit wistful. Detachment is tough, but it's good to be without the weight of it on my shoulders. It was with me for four years and finally, at long last I have been liberated, or rather, I liberated myself.
And my future, while certainly still unsure to some degree, at least it no longer causes me to break out in hives or hide from the mail carrier. I came to accept something that I'd known deep down for awhile: while I'd make a good lawyer, I didn't want that life. I want more freedom and a lot more creativity. I want to write. And I will. Just knowing what I want to do has made my life a lot lighter. I'm excited. I'm motivated. I'm happy.
Since I've come home to Canada I've realised that I'm a lot more secure. Anyone who knows me knows that self-esteem has generally not been a problem for me. I'm a pretty confident person with a lot to say and I'm not afraid to say it..sometimes I should probably be more afraid! But only after coming home and living in my normal context for awhile have I noticed that the little insecurities that I carried around with me have vanished (which is not to say that I'm without insecurities). I feel wonderfully secure and content and without worry. I think that a lot of the insecurities must have been tied to some of that baggage that I was carrying around, but now that that's been dealt with I feel renewed. And so tonight in savasana that's where I was: thinking about all that I was, all that I am now, how far I've come and getting emotional with the memories of how painful some of those times were, how proud I am for overcoming them and how somewhere, deep down I am so sad about letting that one person out of my life, because he was in it forever, but so happy, invigorated and grateful to be free.
I realise that this is just a lot of babbling, and somewhat inarticulate, incoherent babbling at that, but it's nice to articulate it in whatever fashion possible, and I like that I now feel secure enough to share these thoughts with the wide world (okay, the five or so people who read this!). It's on days like these that I am so thankful for yoga, for Mysore, for Asia and for my own evolution. Om shanti.
- posted by Andrea @ 11:15 p.m.