A really bad day...a really negative moment...but it happened and i am not taking it back...its learning how to be true to yourself

 June 15^th 2013

I think that my mom with all the love and support she has given me when I was growing up, made a mistake in raising me. She made me believe that everyone around is like her. Kind, gentle, supportive. She also made me believe that she would always be there for me. Unchangeable, like an emotional memory foam mattress.  The truth is that none of it is valid. The truth is that she couldn’t be there for me. Mentally, physically, emotionally at the time. This separation of what I learned and what I felt lead me to a derailed conclusion that I should look for support in other relationships, no matter what the cost to me. I feel and felt incomplete because I couldn’t and can’t find support from my biological family. The only person that was there for me all the time was my grandmother, up until recently.

Alone feels alone. Up until this morning I had this dream that I was going to move back to San Diego, to my father’s house and even thought we have never had a solid relationship, I was hopeful that we will build it and start from scratch and my presence will help him and me. Him to know me better and communicate with me and see who I am. And me, to come to a “safe” place and just relax for a second. Something that has been unavailable to me constantly, except for when practice.

                The truth for me right now is that there is no one who will complete my loneliness, relieve my struggle. No one I can share the difficulties of my life with and help them with theirs. That is a fact that I feel. I also feel like a fake. I am a yoga teacher and a yoga student. What the philosophy teaches you is that all is one and one is all, and that we are all connected. I feel the opposite right now. I feel so disconnected from everyone and everything I know that my chest hurts, physically. I must still be in tune thought with my body, as the physical manifestation of my emotional state is clear.

I don’t want to go back to my father’s house. My understanding of the world and the way people help each other is so different from his. It may be wrong, and he may be right in his approach where everything must and is planned and there is no depth to the constant chatter around him. But I have no energy, nor enough conviction to help him realize anything, nor be a burden on his home life. It feels like that. Like I am an inconvenience, creating problem for him and his manicured life. There are boulders of unresolved pain, fear, anger, frustration all around, but he chooses to ignore them and like a blind horse…charge forward to corporate victories.

My mom is wrong. She believed and believes that people are good. I believed that until this morning. I lost faith. I no longer believe that. I no longer want to believe that. Because the heartbreak is endless and the scars are no longer healing. They just get opened up again and rubbed with some salt.

I don’t want to love today.

I don’t want to love anyone or anything human. Animals are excluded, because they have no malicious intent in them.

I take full responsibility for my pain and the pain I caused others. I probably deserve this. I don’t believe in better, I don’t want to eat, I don’t want to sustain myself. I don’t want anything. I don’t care if the pain stops either. I don’t care about music, about art, about yoga, about love, about drive, about neuroscience, about family. I wanted all of this before. I am a devoted unbeliever now. Not liberating at all. Not happy. Just a fist squeezing my heart inside my ribcage.

 I know people have it worse, I know I am weak, I am ashamed of being weak and maybe I just don’t deserve anything, any life, Including my own. I am weak now. I now I am not supposed to say that. Because Mahatma Gandhi said “be positive in your thoughts, because they become your words, be positive in your words because they become your actions, be positive in your actions because they become your habits, and be positive in your habits because they become your destiny…”

I need to erase this passage, and move up…that is the only way. I am a fighter if I am nothing else. Just get in a habit of fighting alone as there is no one alongside with you now.

Graduation

May 2^nd 2013

I thought nothing has changed. I stepped out of my spiritual graduation with a sense that I was an imposter. In a room full of freshly graduated Yogi’s I was the one who has not moved a centimeter from the time I started 8 month ago to now… A beautiful, breezy San Antonio day, where spring just began unraveling all the wonders of a fresh season with aromas of youth, energy and vitality.

I felt saddened. I was back in a same spot emotionally, intellectually even as when I began. I was fighting off disappointment with a realization that I did in fact finish something great, but there was no feeling  of any feasible depth associated with it…well, no feeling at all….Huh, I thought. Maybe this was my journey, to come full circle, not advance in an expanding spiral…I continued sharing the joy of my friends who have come to such a blossom, each and every one of them. I gave a speech on power within me, that I have discovered, and when I did, it was like a divine intervention, I felt like I was floating. I felt strong, free, and liberated, but when the ceremony was over I felt lost. Alone, confused by the same trail of thoughts, same patterns.

And I decided to wait.

And then. I transformed.

Sometime in the dark of Texas.

         So you make a grand mistake…the one that you can’t erase no matter how hard you may try, nor can you forget, nor can you redeem yourself. You come to a crossroad, again, and it is starring you in the face, In a form of a flash of memory, or a smell or a scene In a daily life. You realize that your choices are to forgive yourself, but that is also not coming easy and you may never, or you just burry the guilt deep inside and try to do as much yoga as you can to mask the self-mutilating stream of shame driven thoughts. That’s how life is for me. Some days are great and I am miss “Zen” spreading the word of wisdom about how “thy shall love thyself” and “internalize peace”, “breathe”, read lots of wisdom quotes to find the one that will get me through the next 24 hours.

I went through yoga teacher training and it was a therapy group. I needed so badly to catch up. To have this craft under my belt (it sound ridiculous when I write it, because Yoga is life and the way of life, so my “possession” of this “craft” is quite improbable in this lifetime), to one up someone who hurt me. I came out of the teacher training better equipped to numb up my OWN pain. I was looking for help when I entered the doors of the studio. It sounds so weak to me. Looking for help. I remember begging my boyfriend at the time to “Help me”, to “feel sorry for me”. How shameful, how weak, how “everything I don’t want to be”, how “everything I am not”.

I don’t know my lesson in this “grand mistake”. I don’t see the light right now. I only see a monstrous shadow following me around and reminding me of how I FAILED to be brave, how I FAILED to live up to the expectations I had for this event. How I Failed me. And the one I didn’t have.

I was looking in the mirror yesterday in my bathroom and remembered the doctor saying, “ you will never regret it if you have it”. He was right . There is NOTHING to be done any more about this. NOTHING…so I will just keep stepping into the dark and pulling myself out with my practice, books, daring things and a hope that I will have a chance for another chance.

The truth is I hollowed myself out when I had the life inside. It was My choice. My Pro choice. And it kills my soul every single day. It has been almost two years and the pain has not gotten any less. I think the only way I can be whole again is to have a baby. I wish I could blame someone else, like him. He didn’t want it, he didn’t tell me to stop, he didn’t go to the hospital with me. He..he…he….But it was me…me …ME who went and had an a…….

July 18, 2013

July 18, 2013

I fell asleep while watching “Scrubs” on my tatami style bed...I was blissfully dosing off into a much wanted oblivion after my 10 hour shift at the hospital and a 2 hour nap last night, when my grandmother walked in and somewhat unintentionally started waking me up. She has been wanting to go outside since yesterday, and this was her way of letting me know she was serious. She was waking me up by pretending she didn’t see I was asleep, just repeating my name as she circled the room. I was pissed! PISSED! It took me half a second to open my eyes and rage filled me from my toes to the top of my head! One f*ing thing that I cannot stand is when someone wakes me up! ONE F*ing THING I DIDN’T NEED TODAY! THIS WHOLE ENTIRE WEEK! I snapped at her, fast, sort of furious, asked her to never wake me up again if I am sleeping. (I wasn’t rude though, just sparks of extreme tension in my voice. I love my grandma very much.) She replied in a calm voice that I told her I was going to go to yoga and she woke me up because of that. I got even more infuriated…”nice…leverage THAT argument…” since it left me semi powerless it fueled my rage further.

I dressed quickly, grabbed my bag, walked my grandma outside and went to yoga. I was so angry stepping onto my mat. I greeted the teacher. She looked like a taxi cab, with her black and white plaid leggings and a yellow shirt, like a well groomed taxi cab. More flexible thought. Renee.

My practice was full of anger. I am a yogi. I do yoga. I am angry as hell. I let it out on the mat and afterwards Renee came up and told me my practice was beautiful. I laughed and thanked her. It was a very challenging class. Baptiste style, lots of balance and twists. I struggled to keep my poses and not faint. I haven’t eaten normally for days and was on the verge of fainting, but breathed through it. The darkening in my eyes while flowing made me even angrier and I just clenched my teeth forcing my body to stay up. Hurting, Sweating, swearing inside. If you would take a picture of me at the moment of my Virabhadrasana III (warrior pose) I would bet, the picture would turn out with me surrounded by a dark, hailing could.

I have never been more enraged while practicing. While in Savasana (corpse pose). The thoughts didn’t stop, they bounced off of the walls of my scull like a pack of bats in a cave hunting for millions of tiny buzzing insects. It was an ugly site for me inverted AND introverted. And yet it was beautiful. Anger I guess can be beautiful? Only on the mat?

Contemplation quartet

"Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in" - This quote sent to me by a friend of mine, from a sport magazine.

" The proper utilization of our intelligence and knowledge is to effect changes from within to develop a good heart" Dalai Lama

a Pickle

         Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera had a very painful, turmoil filled, passion driven, common love fueled relation.  That is only my perspective, a narrow one, compiled from several sourses, mostly the recent exhibit at THE HIGH, showing both of their works side by side and captioning exerts out of their letters, memoirs and commentaries with large texts on the walls besides the paintings. However much they struggled together,went through betrayal, divorce, multiple lovers, they were never able to let go of one another, forever remaining the loves of each others lives. After Frida's death in 1954, Diego wrote, "I realized that the most wonderful part of my life had been my love for Frida." My question is; for these two individuals, was love for each other dependent on the addiction to pain? What I mean is if a person who had to suffer early in life, just like Frida, from her accident at 18, from her miscarriages, from inability to have children for the rest of her life.  As she got use to pain being imprinted in her being, did she also search for it in her relationship? and if there was no pain, was she  feeling not complete? Or was it just fate that governed the entire love and life affair, resulting in them ending up together despite all the heavy history. Was Diego her one and true love and no matter how much pain there was, there always existed a counterbalance that didn't allow them to find truth and calm in any other person/relationship that they entered? It is crucial that I find out an answer to this question. Crucial for me.

       There is a difficulty speaking about myself at the moment. My heart is in a state of self preservation, requiring a mute button.  It happens when you allow life experiences to cycle.

       I saw a couple of teenage boys sitting at the footsteps of my apartment complex today, as I was making my way to the garage for a cappuccino trip. One of them was passionately addressing the rest, something along the lines of "lets RISE against unfairness!!!". Hopefully in a peaceful manner. As I was driving away from my house, I saw same 4 crossing the street. Two of them simultaneously stopped and started reaching in their front pockets. Since their pants were hanging "fashionably" low pass the waistline, as they reached for whatever they both needed, teens touched the street floor through their pockets and kept walking and sweeping the street with their pants.

      In Corpus, across the street from me there is a harbor, where numerous sail boats find their rest at night. It is separated by a thin pile of rocks extending into the ocean and wrapping around the beach area, making a half oval shape. Very rarely you see people walk on the rocks and you can barely make out silhouettes far away from the shore. I always wanted to walk there. So I did. I made my way at dusk and as I started walking further down the rocks, I noticed a different line of silhouettes at my feet...it was rats...needless to say...I advanced no further and decided that these "romantic" strolls are better reserved for locations with a lower population of starving rodents. But hey, a rush of adrenaline never hurt anyone as long as it is not followed by rabies shots.

       Listening to the new the National album "Trouble will find me" is a treat, a sweet sorrow treat of course. Following it with Radiohead "Ok computer" is a dangerous pleasure. Opening up a potential for a soul and sense numbing experience. Listening to this "duo" continuously for 3 days..oh boy...

      Saving grace is a great conversation about altruism, and wholeheartedness with long time friends. A reminder of value of a word. A reminder to not allow sorrow occupy a space in the heart and self-doubt to shake the ground I stand on.

Atlanta

From April 5th, 2013

A  dose of challenge today...
A sprinkle of disappointment...
A slice of joy...
A wedge of confusion...
A shred of impatience...

This is the main course for tonight.

It is a difficult realization that I was ungrateful. But a welcome one. I sat next to a woman in the navy today, on my flight back to CC. Her eyes were glowing and she was fidgeting with impatience to land in Corpus already. She is relieved for a month. Her husband and her family just received the news and are cooking, organizing family time and most importantly, burning with anticipation of her arrival just like she is. Sgt. Gonzales. She is every bit lovely, shy, sweet, young, excited and genuine. She picked me to share her story with. She got married the 13th of February, this year. Left for boot camp next month. She is so in love. She could not wait to get off the plain, and i was a little envious that she had someone meet her here. This brought sweet memories of my arrival in Moscow. How my mom always meets me with flowers. How i see my friends' faces out of a crowd as i descend down the escalator. The ungrateful part comes from me not wanting to be where I am. Not savoring the moment and not being present....And then i get a reminder....I walk into "Bleu Bistro" and Heime, a cheerful waiter with resonating voice yells "N!" across the room. I sit down and instantly feel welcome. It is strange. People are so warm here. I have only dined in this place a hand full of times, but he remembered my name and it was welcoming. That is all i needed from the trip.

My cat, a white, furry hero in disguise, tolerated the trip with a stamina of a work horse. He didn't even utter a weak "meou" he just took it like a man...There was a standing ovation for him when we landed.

Atlanta....
Oh...I am in love again.
Melissa, Paul and Becky...People i have seen last as a 12 year old girl...It was like finding long lost family all over again and bathing in the joy, happiness, pride, feeling of incredible luck and gratefulness for reuniting. It felt so natural, just as if I left a month ago and came back...and we just carried on a conversation like we never parted. Grateful...now a balance.
Paul and his beautiful wive Becky met me at an Ethiopian restaurant after waiting for my arrival for about 30 minutes. I walked in, i wasnt nervous at all i was just really sorry for my tardiness:) I apologized, they made me feel like they just got here too. Here they were. Paul has not changed, just grew a beard. Becky, giant soft brown eyes. I hugged them, sat down and the rest was effortless. Every theme we touched upon, i found soul mates in both of them. I found listeners, friends, family, who experienced similar journey and struggles along the way. Easy it was, like breathing.
The next day i went to see them in Birmingham. Melissa arrived, i was nervous, i was so excited! She hasn't changed either, she hugged me like a mom does, like she use to when i was 12. I fell right into her embrace and bathed in it for a minute or maybe 10. Warmth and a wonderful sense of familiarity is what i felt in the presence of them. I can write about them for days. I shall.

Sarah and Tess:
Coffee Shop.
A good coffee shop is a must of any new city explorer. Copper Coin Coffee is just the place. Right next to Ember Yoga, a space i owe my spiritual come  back and sanity to. Jeff, the owner, a physicist by training, a Yogi by heart and his wife Margaret designed a perfection of a studio, but I will spare the details for later.

Sarah and Tess: College students, Environmentalist and a Cook. Beautiful, so different from each other. Tess, more reserved, softer; Sarah- vibrant, fast..both so kind, genuine, open.
I was sitting, late night, studying a little. Tess came up and brought me a spread of avocado, hummus, pita bread and cheese..."This is for you" - she said. "Because you are our favorite, just don't tell anyone". I felt home again. This is a reoccurring theme for me. The need to come home. And the realization, that i find it everywhere i go. With people like this and the kindest things they do.

A victory. A victory for personal development. There is this PA at my work. I walk in. She is fast, beautiful, very bright, full of herself. I am intimidated. I come up and attempt in a quiet voice to impose some "demands" for anesthesia so that my waveforms are readable. After i state that i would like to run my tests "CONTINUOUSLY" , she asks "CONTINUOUSLY" or "CONTINUALLY"...I blush like crazy and pick the first one i know. I retrieve to my domain in the corner of operating theater and feverishly search google for the definition of both. I realize that Continuously, as i sort of expected...is a continuation with no interruptions, where continually means "with interruptions". I gather my confidence and I tell the PA that i would like to CONTINUOUSLY if it is possible on her end to sustain the anesthesia, but i will be willing to run it CONTINUALLY if it is easier for her. While saying all that, i blush inexplicably again and couple of sweat drops form on my forehead. She looks at me with surprise and a certain sense of well...respect! She smiles with her eyes (i cant see the rest over the mask), tells me that "she is happy to do either one" and from that point on we become very chatty on regular bases whenever we work together! Pretty proud actually, she turns out to be very sweet, extremely good at what she does, fast, and kind. Point of the story...go deeper, beyond insecurity...may win some:)

Now Ember Yoga studio:
What a treat it was to find this place of safety, strong practice, kind hearts, and absolute immersion in the love of yoga. The first thing i goggled when i got to Atlanta was "yoga studio" of course. Thankfully, Ember was the one to pop up. I went there the next day and felt at home. I met Margaret, the owner and designer of the studio as i walked through the doors. She greeted me and even thought i was late , she said it would be OK for me to join the session. The practice was led by Jeff, the owner and as i mentioned before, physicist Yogi. Needless to say i returned every day from then on. They knew my name the second time i stepped in. Variety of classes, hot, deep stretch, relaxation, meditation, yin, 108 sun salutations (with glow in the dark paint and black lights!!), everything to stretch the body, mind and soul. The space itself is completely reflective of the beautiful people who designed and work in there. Large, bright rooms with high ceilings, hardwood floors, stone lined showers. GIANT WINDOWS. As you step inside the meditation begins. I am grateful for finding this space and for developing my practice here. I was honestly transformed. I came out of the month of daily visits with strength within i wasn't aware of, my Asanas became firmer, my mind more focused and i can do things i could not before. Namaste Ember. I will be back.