8 Feb

I missed my second revolution on Sunday. Another massive cold had made its way into my chest and was making itself all comfy-cozy-at-home. So it was, that after a week of digging deep, practicing yoga daily for 20 minutes, meditating twice a day for 5 minutes, trying to keep my swirling head ‘present’ and ‘clear,’ seeking the truth (law 1) and being willing to come apart (law 2) — I was coming apart. In a most literal sense.

I spent the first of the week feeling more clear and, truthfully, elated than I have in some time. My energy level was high and I felt like I was more open to my girls — savoring them even — for the first time in too long. They came home from school one day and said, “Mom, you are being so nice.” [READ: versus that raving bitch from hell you usually are.]

I even found myself not biting the hubby’s head off when he did that stupid [fill in the blank] that he does every day. “Hmmm,” thought me. I think I’ve just found my inner Lexapro.

True Blue checked in with me every day. And I’m sure that after my 50th “I’m fantastic” she had to be thinking “she’s so not getting it.”

But by Wednesday, with said head cold latching onto my JUGULAR, I started to slip. By Thursday, I declared it a ‘rest day’ and proceeded to do nary a damned thing. And therein lies my slippery slope.

By Saturday, I found myself crying in the laundry room with so many dark thoughts clouding my brain that I could swear there was an actual thunderclap with lightning bolts shooting from my ears.

So as I slogged my way through my swirling thoughts and globs of flem, I realized it was time — yet again — to surrender. So let’s just call it SURRENDER SUNDAY. And leave it at that.

It had been a week of long, hard looking at my habits. (Nasty beasts that they are.) Realizing (again and again and again, ad nauseam) that I live every single moment about 100 moments ahead or back in that black-and-blue space of all that I fucked up the minutes, days, weeks, months, years previous.

So what a tremendous relief to think: Here. Now. And let the rest of that bullshit sail away. (Not that I was 100% successful, mind you, but…it’s a start.)

The truth is, in spite of my admitted snarkiness towards the yogi ilk, it would appear that I have fully embraced my inner divinity. (The other day, as I ‘omed’ a deep breath out, I thought: Oh. Shit. I’m one of them. Because it felt freaking great.)

So, on Monday, I woke up determined to slay the chest cold beast. Hacked up a lung through my am meditation and yoga. Set up massages for the hubby and me for the evening. And went to get some of the shit worked out of my inflamed and congested body. (ASIDE: the magnificently talented massage therapist at Massage Specialists put one hand on me and declared HOT MESS. Seeee…told you.)

As the week and a half has progressed, I find myself (as I stand in mountain) thinking: THIS. This is the Boulder I uprooted and moved west for. THIS. Not the hyper, over-achieving, high-end-car-driving, designer-clothes-wearing, ruthlessly competitive pile of doggie do’ that I find myself in daily.

And, for me, that makes all the crying in the laundry room worth every salty tear.

This week we focus on stepping out of our comfort zone (law 3) and committing to growth (law 4). I’d say that all that oming should cover both, eh? (Just kidding, True Blue.)

TODAY’S THEME SONG: Supermassive Black Hole. Muse. Glaciers melting in the dead of night. And the superstars sucked into the supermassive.


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