wtf, body? more pain?

At some point I will get around to writing more philosophical and tearjerking (and coherent) posts about the past two weeks, but slotting back into my life is crazy and haphazard and narcoleptic and trying to cope with those things is PLENTY ENOUGH, thank you, without having to take the time to Sit Down And Write From The Heart. So, here’s a post about schtuff.

This article is really, really good. So much so that I have to quote the entire last paragraph:

I’m not wishing the Internet away. It has become so integral to my work — to my life — that I honestly can’t recall what I did without it. But it has allowed us to reflexively indulge every passing interest, to expect answers to every fleeting question, to believe that if we search long enough, surf a little further, we can hit the dry land of knowing “everything that happens” and that such knowledge is both possible and desirable. In the end, though, there is just more sea, and as alluring as we can find the perpetual pursuit of little thoughts, the net result may only be to prevent us from forming the big ones.

This is more or less what I was trying to say a very long time ago, with hundreds of words, and she managed it in a paragraph. Hat: off.

On the flight from Santa Barbara to Phoenix on Sunday morning, I think that they actually did not turn the air system on in the plane until almost cruising altitude. I couldn’t hear it blowing, drowning out most of the sounds in the plane as it usually does, and the higher we got the sleepier I got until I was nodding off only a few minutes after taking off. That is, I believe I was passing out from lack of oxygen. I can’t believe that they forgot this minor detail, and the rest of the passengers ranged from just fine to also-sleepy as I was experiencing this, so the sound of the air that I didn’t hear could have been…something else that they forgot to turn on. I don’t know. It was just weird.

BF is so, so awesome. He cleaned up the house and made brownies and chili for me. And he’s been totally leaving me alone about unpacking my stuff and cleaning up my mess and returning to my usual responsibilities. He sensibly pointed out that I haven’t yet been home for 48 hours yet, but I keep thinking that most people would have at least unpacked by now, right?

I feel a subtle but intense shift in my personal atmosphere after having this experience. I told BF last night that as I sat at work yesterday, doing my stupid, stupid, stupid job, I felt as if there was all this space in my mind. Feeling grounded and good-natured are parts of it, but there’s more…it’s hard to explain. Everything has widened inside myself. I’m not so afraid, and I feel grounded and ready.

I have a lot more enthusiasm for my life in general – making couscous soup tonight was such a pleasure, I thought I was going to jump up and down when it was ready, I missed cooking so much! - and for being myself, tooling along in the life I live. I’m hoping this is going to last, that it’s not just the blush after the experience. Thing is, the two weeks were goddamn exhausting, complete with a Kill Bill-esque climb up a terrible hill once or twice a day, so it’s not as if I’m back from an idyllic Caribbean vacation. I think I just understand myself better than I did – and that I’m taking Marie’s advice: not letting anyone else tell me who I should be.

I’ve got to get started on all the post-training/marketing crap I have to do: emailing people to ask when they want to set up privates, talking to MP about doing a group class with some of their friends, putting together a little picture email to thank all the people who donated, setting up a new website, printing business cards (the first round, before I’m actually RYT, will be a small, home-printed batch), calling studios and gyms, etc etc. Pain in the ASS, and I’m not even unpacked, and how am I ever going to get any sleep?

I’ve been having some pain in my mid-back for the last two days. It’s a little knot that doesn’t really go away and changes when I move around. It’s the exact same pain I have when I do backbends without warming up. I have no idea what it is, but I’m worried one of my vertebrae has shifted out of place. This isn’t really fixable without a master yoga teacher, a chiropractor (God forbid), or an orthopedic doctor. And I am without insurance at this time. I hope it will work itself out, that it’s just something kinking out because I’m back to sitting in chairs all day instead of sitting on the floor as I did for two weeks. (My posture is awesome by now, by the way.) But I admit it’s worrying me quite a lot.

On Saturday night we sat in council – long story – and it took FOREVER - also a long story. Afterward there was supposed to be a party, starting at 10:00, but we didn’t even get finished until almost 11, so I figured the party would be cancelled and/or everyone would just go to bed, too tired to party. I was wrong, and I was also really glad I stayed. It turned out to be exactly what we needed, a huge release of energy and pent-up good behavior, dancing to enormously loud Michael Jackson and Beyonce. I didn’t go back to my yurt until 1:00, and one of my yurtmates didn’t get in until 2:30, after naked hot-tubbing one last time. It was pretty great. I don’t know how they knew that this was what we’d need – of course this is what every group needs, every time, but I don’t know how they came up with it in the first place.

Here’s another picture for you. I don’t often take pictures, because I find that pictures are generally a thoroughly poor excuse for what it was like to be there, wherever I was. In this instance, I wanted to try and remember everything I could about White Lotus, so I took many more pictures than I generally do. Of course I found that despite my purpose, I was right all along and pictures are a shitty substitute; this picture is a perfect example.

On this night, the fog rolled in on a high wind so quickly, you could see the shreds of it drifting into the canyon as you stood there. This view here is usually of Santa Barbara, all the way down to the ocean; that night it was totally obscured with cotton. The air was so full of electricity.