Adding Value

Last night as I was leaving my power vinyasa yoga class, I noticed a sign that asked that students be mindful of the energy they bring to the class they are attending.

Full disclosure: while I aspire to be someone that brings positive energy to any situation I am in, right now, while struggling through all of the emotional baggage I carry, I am slightly self absorbed. Okay, that is a bit of an understatement. I am consumed with resolving my unresolved. My therapist compares this to a pendulum where for most of my life I wasn’t dealing with anything and I’d put everyone else before me, but now I’m dealing with the unresolved and I can barely think of other people. At some point, I’ll be better adapted to keeping my pendulum in a neutral role, but I’m not there yet. To be clear, I haven’t turned into some monster that fails to consider other people, but if there is something I don’t want to do or a place I don’t want to go, I’m not going. If I want to go to the beach, I’m going to the beach. At this moment in time the most I’m doing that I don’t necessarily want to do is go to work and clean my house.

Last night when I noticed the sign about being mindful of the energy you bring to a class caught my eye, I felt deep gratitude in my heart. It was the gentle reminder that I can and do impact others. I love my yoga practice and I’m so happy to be back at it, but it’s been difficult. The classes I take are hot classes and power classes, therefore, being that I’m not in the best shape and am not as active as I used to be I find myself getting frustrated, which isn’t the energy I really want to be bringing to my mat or the world.

I’ve been using yoga to help find my balance, to listen to my heart and to learn to breathe. This will enable me in the present and going forward to bring positive, peaceful energy into situations that I am a part of and to always come from a place of love, instead of a place of fear. While my mat is my world, my energy radiates to those around me and me being pissy in a class, or anywhere else for that matter, can negatively impact those around me.

So thank you to whoever posted that wonderful reminder to check my energy. I’m grateful to having that message cross my path.

With love,

E.R.A.

My Greatest Mistake

In life I’ve made many mistakes. Some large, some small, some neither large or small, but just in between.

There is one single mistake that I have made that is absolutely bigger and more devastating than any other. I have only just realized this tragic mistake and I am overcome with emotion from the realization that I have resisted love time after time after time in my life.

This realization is new, so bear with me while I bare my soul and start to explore this mistake.

Why did I resist love? Fear. Why was I so afraid of love? In short, I was afraid I was unworthy of love.

Years ago, I was speaking with someone who told me they could conceptually understand that people loved them, but that they lacked feeling loved. This statement broke my heart a bit for two reasons- 1. I dearly loved and love this person and I was devastated to learn that they didn’t feel it and 2. Well, I could relate this. I conceptually knew I was loved, but I didn’t feel it. This second bit was sad because I realized in that moment that I was missing out on what may have been a lot of love. After all, the person who spoke this statement I adore, and if they couldn’t feel that from me, then who was I missing being adored from?

Today I spoke with 2 of my exes. And while revisiting one of the conversations in my head I realized that today, I approached them with love and humor. The one I haven’t spoken to in about 4 years, I even signed off with a “lots of love” and his reply? “Love you back.” The other ex and I also got around to sharing I love yous.

If my heart had wings it would be soaring right now. I love, adore and cherish these two men. They both carry a very special, yet different, place in my heart. They were my friends, my confidants, my lovers. Yet for years I conceptually understood they loved me, at times I questioned if that understanding was real or if they dropped the “L” word as a manipulation tactic (not flattering, but that questioning is on me and my emotional baggage, not them), I just never felt the love from them.

Imagine my surprise when revisiting the conversations, I felt their love wash over me. It hit me so hard, I may as well have been hit by a truck. The feeling left me breathless and sobbing because holy fucking shit, I am loved and I can feel it. These two precious, gorgeous men, actually love me. Both of them have seen some dark sides of me, yet they love me. They’ve talked me off the ledge of anger and suicide, they’ve heard me rage against themselves or others, they’ve bore witness to my self loathing and disgust. Don’t get me wrong, we had good days too, but they have seen some parts of me that scare me and yet, they love me. They loved me then and they love me now. I am so incredibly grateful to them both for sharing their love and I am deeply forever grateful I can finally feel love.

What I realize now is that I haven’t let myself feel love. On one hand I thought our failed relationships were a testament to there not being enough love, but the bigger issue was that until recently, I didn’t love myself. Shame from my shadows and the darker parts of my mind led me to believe that I was unworthy and undeserving of love. Yet love, I would argue is our absolute birth right. Slowly, but surely and a sometimes painfully, I am learning to love myself and to show myself love.

And that my friends, is how my biggest mistake, is becoming my biggest miracle.

With Love,

E.R.A.

Parted

Mannnn, let’s talk this sadness

It’s just sitting in my heart.

Is it mine?

Is it yours?

Is it because we are apart?

Try as I might

This grief just won’t go.

Yoga, meditation, journaling

It’s lingering in my soul.

The beach normally brings me joy,

At times it makes my heart sing.

But today it’s different,

This sadness is lingering.

I’ve never felt saner,

But fear I’m losing my mind.

What am I supposed to do

It’s me I want to find.

I’ve never wanted so much to live

Yet somehow I still want to die.

I want the joy of the song and dance

This pain is just so sharp and it’s no lie.

I know I have to face it,

But I feel so consumed.

How does anyone heal past this-

How is there any room?

I’ll keep on my path

And know that’s all I can do

But why’s the sadness here?

Well, it’s because I miss you.

No More Broken Promises

Let’s talk inner child, promises and self love.

We are concluding the first Monday in March and it’s been an interesting day, but before we get to today, let’s visit a few weeks ago.

A few weeks ago I selected March 4, 2019, to be my start date into daily yoga for about a month. I PROMISED myself that I’d start it today. Though I have a yoga room in my home, I found I was struggling to self motivate to practice and I decided to motivate myself by paying for it. The anxiety began to creep in about a week ago and up until late yesterday I was able to keep that anxiety at bay. Then, late yesterday afternoon, I found myself rationalizing not starting today- After all I had returned from a business trip in the wee hours of morning and I was of course tired.

As the rationalizing set in and I got further and further away from my promise to myself, I felt the devastation set in. My inner child turned away from me while muttering “you promised” and went to pout in a corner. In that moment, I felt my heart break. At the time I wasn’t sure what broken promises I encountered as a child. I couldn’t remember a time that my mom made a promise and failed to deliver. The thing is, and I’m just now realizing this, my biological father abandoned me as a small child. Sure, he did and still does love me, but that doesn’t erase the 20 some odd years he was out of my life until I found him again. It doesn’t erase the time as a teenager I found him, called him and he promised me we’d get together soon, only failing to make good on that promise and again not re-enter my life until I was an adult. So in the moments I was even considering breaking my own promise to myself, my darling inner girl was crushed once again by a broken promise.

As I’ve aged, I have realized that where my parents failed me as a child, still hurts. I’ve realized from that hurt, I’ve made decisions that echo their decisions and my decisions as an adult, while understandable, they are my decisions. I love my parents. Even when I am angry with them or hurt by them, I love them dearly. My existence in this 3 dimensional world is owed to them and their decisions, I am eternally grateful to them for their decision to bring me into this world. While I love them, I no longer need them the way I did as a small child. My inner child on the other hand will always need me. That precious girl needs me to validate her experiences, she needs me to honor my promises to myself, she needs me to fiercely protect her and she needs me show her infinite, unconditional love.

So when I felt the heartache of changing my mind and not honoring my promise, I threw on the metaphorical breaks and promised her come hell or high water we were going to yoga today. Understandably she was happier but still in “we’ll she mode.” What can I say? I’ve let her down so many times.

Tonight was the first yoga class which is a hot vinyasa flow class. As I walked in I picked a back corner to unroll my mat. Perching on my mat, my ego went to work. My ego noticed I was the chubbiest person in the room and reminded me I’ve lost much of my strength and flexibility from 12 or 13 years ago when I took yoga and dance daily. My ego begged me to leave. My inner child? No where to be found, my ego was in full on flight mode begging me to get out before everyone realized I was even in the room. Then this little voice, soft, kind and from the heart, asked me and my ego to look around and notice how many people were looking at me. To be clear this room was packed! We had less than six inches between mats side to side and there were three rows of mats. Not a single person was looking at me. My ego was slightly appeased but still had worries, so I laid back on my mat and starred at the ceiling while deep breathing until class started.

A few sequences in I realized my happy space is really on my mat. I just love being on it and moving through these sequences I found my grove back. Sure I muttered “what the fuck” on a few exhales when I wasn’t sure I could do what the instructor was asking, but my body found its modifications. It found its flow. My lungs found their breath, my muscles found their release, my heart found its solace and my ego? It chilled right the fuck out.

Laying in shavasna my body was happy and thanked me for not over caffeinating it today. My ego apologized for its meltdown. My heart sent love to my world. My inner child? Imagine a blissful little girl, who is exhausted and fighting sleep but trying to dance like a luau dancer.

So here’s me, post yoga class with my glasses fogging out, but damn close to being blissed af.

With love,

E.R.A.

Faith? Cue the Nervous Laughter

faith
/fāTH/noun
1.complete trust or confidence in someone or something.

Voltaire tells us “Faith consists in believing when it is beyond the power of reason to believe.” Sounds lovely and perhaps the beauty of faith is the reason I’m always intrigued by individuals who have faith they openly discuss. Often times I’ll find myself engaged in a discussion with a person about their beliefs and I find that their faith is a beautiful thing, even if I completely disagree with what they are saying.

I’m not so strong on the faith front. Martin Luther King, Jr shared that “Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.” This quote alone causes me a bit of discomfort and panic. Maybe you’ll take the first step, but me, I’m refusing to. I need to know where we are going, how many stairs there are, are the stairs steep or shallow, why are we taking the stairs, is there an elevator we can use instead, is this journey necessary, etc. Clearly, I’m a joy to behold in any unknown situation and my therapist probably needs to charge me double.

If I manage to take that first step or the first couple steps without any of my questions being answered, I’ll hover for a moment as my fear takes over and then I’ll rush back down to my perceived safety. Yet, I’d like to have faith. I am that person that does believe in a larger power and I do occasionally pray for signs, but then if the sign shows, I wonder if I prayed wrong and if the sign doesn’t show, then maybe the universe wasn’t listening or maybe I again prayed wrong.

Now if someone said the above to me, I’d point out there is not a wrong way to pray and to trust the signs or lack thereof. For me trust comes hard. My foundation for trusting others was damaged years ago and I’ve never been sure how to rebuild it. Compounding that difficulty is that I was inadvertently, or maybe purposefully depending on your viewpoint, taught not to trust myself. I’m not sure, but maybe the only way to have stronger faith is to practice trust, not only with others, but with myself. Perhaps that needs to be the first step, really beginning to trust myself. If there is one thing I’ve recently learned it’s that I’m not crazy and my intuition serves me quite well. So maybe, just maybe, I’m ready for some good ole fashioned faith.

With love,

E.R.A.