and Grandly
Goal Post #15 follow up
This month has been instructive and humbling. After a bumbled start, I managed to complete every-other practice the rest of the first week. This wasn't bad- more yoga than in the entire month of December and I felt the difference right away. It still wasn't great. My attitude toward yoga was surprisingly hostile considering exercise outside wasn't an option and how much I miss it when I fall out of practice. I caught myself thinking "I don't wanna" on the regular that first week.
How much can I miss yoga? Starting in grad school I've had entire dreams about just doing yoga if it's been awhile. My mind will literally try to make up for something my body isn't doing often enough. This also happens with bike rides - I'll have intricate dreams about riding sections of the monon and wake up wishing for spring.
The second week was much better. I completed almost every practice on time and Nic even joined us one day. My toddler attitude has subsided and, just like in July, learning about and supporting the other women in our group has been a fulfilling part of the process.
Week three had me so far behind it was ridiculous. On the 17th I stopped trying to catch up and skipped to where we were supposed to be on day sixteen. It was perfection. The whole evening had felt off - I started later than I wanted and was fuming with Nic about something silly. Then, this practice is all about being sweet and gentle with ourselves. After finishing I melted into the floor, apologized to Nic and slept like a baby.
Week four was a colossal bust. I didn't do a single session. Not one. Tried not to feel guilty about that but it really wasn't working. This winter is really getting to me in ways it usually doesn't. We're not really beach people but I've been searching for cheap flights to sunshine like it's my job.
With only one day left, I have to call this first month's goal officially incomplete. Many factors contributed, but the biggest one is I simply didn't make the time. Even better, just like this summer I stopped doing daily planks and mini yoga sessions so it's officially a double failure.
Failure sucks. It stinks. I hate that I didn't succeed and trying really hard not to beat myself up over it, but I'm pretty disappointed in myself right now. Trying to keep myself from falling into a pit of self-loathing by answering one question - why?
Earlier this morning it occurred to me I might be afraid of succeeding at yoga and by extension, meditation. Why would I be afraid to meditate? Remember this past summer when something unlocked in me through a combination of yoga and meditation? The sense of peace was amazing but also a little scary. Like freedom might feel to someone who's been locked up for a long time.
Which brings me to this: almost exactly a year ago I started confronting deeply buried trauma. Besides being emotional, it's been physically draining. Meditation is helping me work through a lot, but dealing with everything is something I'm choosing to take super slow. How slow? This post slow. Slower. This entire series of posts slow. And yes, all of this is connected in a big old pile called figuring out my shit. It's a tangle, but I'm good at untangling things. The trick is to be patient and try to sense the weak spots almost intuitively. That's when you tease them out and keep going.
This month has been instructive and humbling. After a bumbled start, I managed to complete every-other practice the rest of the first week. This wasn't bad- more yoga than in the entire month of December and I felt the difference right away. It still wasn't great. My attitude toward yoga was surprisingly hostile considering exercise outside wasn't an option and how much I miss it when I fall out of practice. I caught myself thinking "I don't wanna" on the regular that first week.
How much can I miss yoga? Starting in grad school I've had entire dreams about just doing yoga if it's been awhile. My mind will literally try to make up for something my body isn't doing often enough. This also happens with bike rides - I'll have intricate dreams about riding sections of the monon and wake up wishing for spring.
The second week was much better. I completed almost every practice on time and Nic even joined us one day. My toddler attitude has subsided and, just like in July, learning about and supporting the other women in our group has been a fulfilling part of the process.
Week three had me so far behind it was ridiculous. On the 17th I stopped trying to catch up and skipped to where we were supposed to be on day sixteen. It was perfection. The whole evening had felt off - I started later than I wanted and was fuming with Nic about something silly. Then, this practice is all about being sweet and gentle with ourselves. After finishing I melted into the floor, apologized to Nic and slept like a baby.
Week four was a colossal bust. I didn't do a single session. Not one. Tried not to feel guilty about that but it really wasn't working. This winter is really getting to me in ways it usually doesn't. We're not really beach people but I've been searching for cheap flights to sunshine like it's my job.
With only one day left, I have to call this first month's goal officially incomplete. Many factors contributed, but the biggest one is I simply didn't make the time. Even better, just like this summer I stopped doing daily planks and mini yoga sessions so it's officially a double failure.
Failure sucks. It stinks. I hate that I didn't succeed and trying really hard not to beat myself up over it, but I'm pretty disappointed in myself right now. Trying to keep myself from falling into a pit of self-loathing by answering one question - why?
Earlier this morning it occurred to me I might be afraid of succeeding at yoga and by extension, meditation. Why would I be afraid to meditate? Remember this past summer when something unlocked in me through a combination of yoga and meditation? The sense of peace was amazing but also a little scary. Like freedom might feel to someone who's been locked up for a long time.
Which brings me to this: almost exactly a year ago I started confronting deeply buried trauma. Besides being emotional, it's been physically draining. Meditation is helping me work through a lot, but dealing with everything is something I'm choosing to take super slow. How slow? This post slow. Slower. This entire series of posts slow. And yes, all of this is connected in a big old pile called figuring out my shit. It's a tangle, but I'm good at untangling things. The trick is to be patient and try to sense the weak spots almost intuitively. That's when you tease them out and keep going.
Comments