Tuesday, May 18, 2010
The fall that I wrote about yesterday happened because I was trying to do too many things at once, but that happened because my mind was heavy from something that happened earlier in the day.
Remember, it was the first day of my "retreat." I was trying to do something so simple -- change some habits, create better ways of doing and being for myself.
I have come so far from depression and anxiety as my norm. I have finally gotten to a point in my life where I awake in the morning and feel...excited to be up and about and engaged.
Yet I have retained a lot of old habits from the days of DepressedChick. Just muscle memory type stuff, ingrained ways of approaching the day that I know are holding me back from so much more Good and Happy.
Last Monday afternoon I was getting pretty nervous to teach my new Kundalini Energy Yoga class, but now that I have defeated severe and chronic depression, I am able to remember that my nervousness is my partner in this particular dance. It gives me energy; it reminds me that the work that I am doing is super important to me.
Instead, then, of allowing it to "put me down," I now have ways to use it. Typically this means I will put on some of my favorite music and just dance. If I get really sweaty and lose myself for about a half hour, I completely remember myself and then I can tell that the nerves are mostly about excitement.
After dancing, I went upstairs for a bit. When I got back downstairs, there was a pile of moving boxes on my front stoop.
Now this would be a great metaphor but it wasn't that. It was real.
A pile of boxes from my parent's house containing all sorts of random things from my childhood, including all my report cards that so painfully show the results of a childhood like the one that I had.
Teachers now would ask themselves (and the child) why they are capable of A work but suddenly are getting C's and D's and why this roller coaster happens over and over. Back then, teachers didn't think about those things.
Looking through those report cards brought up a lot of anger and then a lot of grief.
That was why I fell after class: I was still trying to hold that anger and grief inside. Tell myself that I was "fine." That I was so past all of that.
But we never are.
We can work hard. We can get better. We can build lives full of love and beauty and purpose and joy.
But we will always and forever be unpacking boxes.
Wait! Before you protest!
I am not saying that we are stuck forever in the past. No WAY! You know ME! I believe 100% in the possibility of healing or I wouldn't be here.
But grief is not on a time line. Grief does not follow any set of rules. Grief can come back to you in a box on your front stoop, catching you completely unawares.
It's what you do with it that matters. I tried not to look at it and my body immediately told me, "No, that will not do. Sit your ass down and think and feel this through."
See? Body way smarter than Brain!
It took a day of sitting with that ankle, of being pretty quiet in myself, before I could let it out, but the purging was good.
My ankle, my ass, and my heart are all healing, and because of the strength I have built lately, they are all healing much more rapidly than I ever could have imagined before.