Maybe it's the lack of sleep. Or maybe it's all the incense and sage I've been burning. (My bedroom smells like a ganja factory. (We grow copious amounts of ganja here, and you're carrying a wasted girl and a bag of fertilizer. You don't look like your average horti-fucking-culturalist. Sorry, I digress.) But anyway.
After last night's stress factory, I woke up with a start at 4 am. Terrible dreams filled with CBL, USB interfaces, misfired emails, collateral pieces that don't exist and budgets gone awry. Sure, I probably could have TRIED to go back to sleep, but let's be honest with ourselves...
Anyway, I made it up and in to the office. I made it through the day. I conspicously did NOT go into CBL's office until our 1:30 call with a colleague. And then I was conspicuously ... reserved. I wanted to shout at her, scream at her, tell her that she had no right to infringe on my life, on my psyche. But that's not how the good little employee acts. The good little employee smiles and nods. She does her work. She gets stuff done. She does not ask for recognition or reward. Stifling all this, I got through a three hour meeting. Stifling all this, I made it through the day. Until 5 pm. At which point I planned to head to yoga.
NOW - before you get mad at me for skipping yoga yet again for CBL, let me say I DID go to yoga. And it rocked my world. More in a moment. But first.
I stopped into her office to say goodbye. At which point I mentioned I was heading to a new-to-me yoga studio and did she want me to pick her up a schedule. After which brief conversation, I mentioned, hesitantly "And I think at some point I'd like to talk about the expectation of email responses on nights, weekends, vacations, you know..."
And we did. We talked about it. And it was awkward. She knew I was upset. But I wasn't giving in. I had a stand and I was taking it. Ms. Insecurity that she is, she stumbled all over herself. I wasn't that smooth myownself, veteran of confrontation that I am. But the conversation was had, a truce was called and I left for yoga.
And then, yoga. It was a Forrest class, a style I'm not usually fond of. Far too much ab work for my taste. It reminds me a little too much of those classes the hot young things take solely to look good in a bikini. Thanks but no thanks. But this one was different.
The instructor was amazing. She talked about going deep within to your core. She talked about staying with your feelings as they arose. She talked about how good people are at "faking it" - to themselves or others. Don't pretend you have an injury or weakness to take a modification because you're tired or weak. Don't come out of a pose and rub your wrist, ankle, knee because you were really about to fall. At the same time, if you have an injury. Listen to it. Don't fake that you're fine or you're strong because you want to push yourself.
Every moment and every sensation has something to teach you.
And that's when I had another one of my friggin A-ha moments. (God, I love yoga).
So often in my days, I pretend there's something wrong. I imagine myself tainted, shameful, needing to detox or cleanse or heal or harmonize or balance or ... on and on. And, here's the thing. I don't really need to do any of these things. I am perfect the exact and precise way I am. Every moment, every sensation, I'm learning something. When I'm happy or proud or accomplished, I should not hide these things. When I'm achy or sweaty or puffy, I should not hide these things.
Every moment the Universe brings to me (and you and you and mostly me and you) the exact lessons we need.
We just need to stop faking and start listening. We need to start owning our truths, using our voices, being open to exactly who we are.