FUCK.

Monday was just . . . exhausting.  A tornado. A hurricane of a day where I left the house at 8:30 a.m. and didn’t come home to stay for another 12 hours.  I was tired. I was cranky. I was sore from my (ridiculously fun) weekend running adventure, and generally, well, bitchy for most of the morning.

This was my internal speech pattern:

A nice professor I was not. Then again, maybe the students could have say, used their (clearly underdeveloped) critical thinking skills to write a response to confusing questions such as: “Name,” “Have you taken this course before?” and “Semester.”

Not.Kidding.

I mean just read the damn directions would you please?  Read them! It says “initial” there smarty pants, not number of units, not day of the week, not the goddamn class number (that you can’t locate on the blasted grid anyway), just write your fucking INITIALS on the line. First letter of first name. First letter of last name. Two letters. YOUR INITIALS!

Oops. My crazy is showing, better tuck that back in tight.

Big breath in. Big breath out.

Okay. All better. Alllllllll better. Back to being impeccable with my word and crap like that.

Since taking on this new job, changing my schedule back to this five days a week bullshit, I remembered why I: a) left this life, b) was always so tired, and c) why I should start buying lottery tickets. #can’twinifyoudon’tplay.

I also, in an attempt to lampoon my own frustration, have encountered the perfect message to offer to this loathful day:

Dear Monday, 

Go step on a lego. 

Sincerely,

Everyone

Ha. Funny but not funny.

Because really. Holy crap. I forgot how draining it was to work on a set schedule with little to no flexibility during the day, leaving evenings and weekends crammed with handling every single other thing possible on the planet for three people, by myself.

Let’s not even get started on how much I am missing my exercise routine. I might like, start crying or something, and we know how much I detest love that nonsense.

Sigh.

This is not who I am anymore, and I know it. This work lifestyle doesn’t serve me. I can do it, and well too. I just don’t want to. It’s not the best version of me.

And so there I sat. Fake smiling my way through three hours of lab classes while I fought off negativity, fatigue and, honestly, the urge to bolt right out the door and onto my mat.

Even with my generally cheery outlook and reframing skills, I didn’t start feeling better until about noon or so, when I finally (insert happy sigh) got to step back into my service shoes, or er, lack thereof, and start assisting at Zuda again.

Halle-fucking-lu-jah.

I’ve been teaching, a lot. Yoga, reading , more reading, and then some more reading, and while that’s certainly been fabulous to many degrees, it has also affected the rest of my life, and I’m not so happy about that. As just one of the many changes that have come as a result of a new schedule, I haven’t been able to do my regular assisting classes like I used to do way back when (you know, like just last month).

Until right then, when I found my happy (bare) feet once again on the creaky wooden planks of the studio, I had forgotten how very much assisting fills me up, how inspired it makes me feel to be immersed in the yoga community, how much peace it brings me to be surrounded by the love and energy held within those yellow walls. How extraordinarly joyful I feel getting to support others in their practice, bearing witness to and assisting in bringing forth a more powerful being.

I need that kind of awesome in my life. Yes, need. Not want. Need.

Things I need in my life are now quite clear to me:

1. Food, water, shelter. Duh
2. Love, belonging and connection. Okay, people. I need people. AT&T? I’ll take the “Friends and Family Plan” please. For life.
3. Touch and intimacy. I’m a hugger, so um, just deal with it or run fast(er than me). I’m also rather fond of deep and authentic conversation, so be prepared for shit to get real. And funny. Really funny maybe.
4. Freedom. As in lack of control. Spontaneity. Don’t fence me in. Getting out my comfort zone. The non-plan plan.
5. Yoga. One workout for the body, mind and spirit, coming right up!
6. Exercise and Rest. Yes. Rest. I said it. Don’t let me forget it please.
7. Some more yoga. Because it.fixes.everything.
8. Laughter and Play. See #1. Duh.

Where and how do I get those? Not by working 80 hours a week for a 40 hour paycheck with no room for fun. Hell no. That’s just not going to cut it.

Well, let me tell you. I have never. Not ever, EVER, been more motivated to get back to my former work life.

E-V-E-R.

I don’t know if it’s the changing of the seasons, the equinox, the harvest moon, some planetary triangle something-or-other, or if just that’s time, but I know this- I finally know what I want, and it’s about to get crackin’ up in here.

Flow. Positive vibrations. Abundance mentality. A shift is coming; it’s time for an earthquake.

My dream job- to empower others through my words, my time, and by sharing yoga- is happening. I can feel it from my head down to my toes. I just know. My gut has been telling me a few things lately, and this is one of them.

Everything is going to be okay.

Fuck, everything is going to be better than okay. Everything is going to be AMAZING.

Because it is. Because I can. Because there is a way, and I will find it.

Because yes.

So Monday, go ahead, step on your lego. Do it. I dare you. Then pick that fucker up, build yourself a bridge and get over it.

 

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