back to the mat?

This impermanence stuff sucks. The resolve and clarity of last week are basically gone. I want to text him 50,000 times a day and say, "No! Wait! Come back! I don't need anything. I'm sad and lonely and discouraged, and I can't sleep, and I liked it much better before when we were together." I haven't sent that text yet, thank God. Or not exactly that text. A lot of the time, I do want him back. I am quite sad and confused and not sure why we can't make it work. But I haven't heard from him, so somehow or another I just need to navigate impermanence, which is, along with suffering and egolessness, one of the marks, or truths, of life in Buddhism. According to Pema, fighting impermanence is the same as fighting life.

Spiritual truths can sure be irritating when we're in pain. I'm sick of the bright side. What I think I may be coming to though is that hanging out in pain is a big waste of time. I may have some choice in the matter. I keep telling myself how sad I am, and sometimes I am quite sad. But right now I don't feel sad. I'm just telling myself how sad I am. And how tired. And how it's unlikely I will ever meet anyone again. And what a shitty writer I am. And that no one wants to read this. And that I might as well cancel all my appointments and go back to bed.

But really, Katy? Let's check the facts. I'm not with this man because he stated clearly that he doesn't want to be in a relationship. That's the only way we know how to relate to each other, so there's not any reason (that I can think of) to hang out. People like and read my blog. You are reading my blog and every now and then I hear from you that you like it. I'm thirty-four and a catch; the odds are nil that my dating life is over. I have moments of real unhappiness, some of which I'm turning into art. I painted last night for the first time in years. I'm not wallowing. I'm getting out and doing what I have to do. I have friends who call me and care about me and want to see me. Those are, actually, the facts.

So what's the problem? What's the cause of my despair? These stupid fucking stories that I tell myself.

Isn't that why we do yoga? Yoga citta vrtti nirodah. "Yoga is the cessation of the fluctuations of the mind stuff." (That is the translation that has always stuck in my mind, although I'm not sure anymore who to attribute it to.)

My suffering right now is largely because of my thoughts, the stories I keep telling myself. I know yoga will help clear that shit away. The truth is that it's been really hard to get on the mat even though I know there's solace there. My thoughts will slow and a lot of the damaging, extraneous, untrue ones will go away for awhile. So I've managed to do a few minutes here and there. Mostly down dogs and inversions, for a change of perspective. A little is okay right now. I'm coming back home.

single again

I know I've been gone awhile. There are a few reasons why, but the big one lately is that I got all caught up in a fast and, as it seemed to me at the time, intense romance. It ended last night, so I'm back to my friend the blog for some processing and solace. Like a good friend, you are always ready to take me back when I'm ready.

It was a very sad night for me. Over dinner, a conversation was started (by me, I suppose) about the relationship and it became obvious that although we were both having a lot of fun, we had completely different ideas about what the relationship meant and where it was going. I was consciously working hard to open up to him, to be available, and it was real work. I needed ground to feel safe, and it became clear in that conversation he was unable to give it. The only thing I knew to do was to leave, so I gathered my things and went home. 

In my practice, I keep coming back to all the different ways we get our hearts open. We get flexible in the spine. We release tension from the shoulders, but most of all we find ground. The common instruction is "root down through your legs." We engage our quadriceps and make sure our feet are lined up with the shin bones which are lined up with our knees and our femurs which come right out of the hip socket exactly parallel with each other. From that foundation, with all that support, we lift up, we allow ourselves to open. Without that, we can still bend our backs, but the quality and integrity of the backbend are compromised. We injure ourselves. It's not safe to really open unless we're fully grounded.

That's my experience, anyway. I was looking for ground, and I didn't get it, so I walked away.

Now how do I deal with the pain in a way that opens me up instead of shutting me down?

I'm trying really, really hard not to slip into blame. Blame feels like an avoidance technique. Did he do something wrong? He was never dishonest. He never intentionally hurt me. He's just not available in the way that I need a partner to be available. Is that his fault? No matter how I turn it in my mind, I can't see him as being wrong. He's not right either. He just is who he is, and I am who I am, and we don't seem to be able to meet each other on this one. 

So I get to own my pain. It's mine. That's really good news. I'm not a victim, and I get to choose differently next time. I know now a little more what I need and what I'm looking for. I'm better at talking about it and asking and finding out if the person I'm with is willing and able to give it to me. And I got to practice saying no and making clear boundaries when I realized my needs weren't going to get met. I got to practice leaving because it was the right thing to do even though it made me so, so sad.

And now I get to practice being sad. I get to care for myself and experience it. The fruits of that will be that I will understand you when you are sad. I will be able to be compassionate to people who are disappointed and heart broken because I let myself go through that too. I will know more what it's like.

Last night I came home and in the midst of a storm, in the midst of strong emotional pain and tears and disappointment, I got to experience being exquisitely okay. I was okay last night, and I still am today. Where did that come from? When did I learn that I can live with my emotions and my disappointments without running away? When did I get to feel this center of me that knew I was safe, that new loves would come (or not), but that either way I was okay? Not I will be okay, or it will work out, as we love to tell each other when we're hurt, but that right there in that very instant, I was doing just fine. Where did that come from? It's brand fucking new, I tell you. I'm so happy I got to see it. I'm glad to know it's there because things do get harder than this. Much, much harder. I know now that it will be there for me then, too.

So that's it. I'm single again. It was a fun month with this man, who I continue to adore. Mostly. I do have pangs of anger and self-righteousness because I'm human and hurt and that's what we do. But I don't regret spending the time with him. And I definitely don't regret leaving. Now it's time to care for myself and my business and my dog and cat and garden, all of which have gotten a little taste of neglect over the last couple of weeks. Back to real life.