I'll take the road less traveled, thank you.

I'm in a Freedom style yoga teacher training this week with Carie Garrett. She told a story at the end of the day that really resonated with me about a traffic helicopter. She said to imagine you are driving down the freeway to a destination with a clear road in front of you as far as you can see. But the truth is that since you are at ground level, you don't really see as far as you think. Up ahead, for one reason or another, traffic is at a standstill, but you can't see it because of the contours of the earth. That's why there are traffic helicopters that can fly above and look at the same terrain but from a different, higher perspective. So let's say you had been driving along and, of course, the highway is usually the fastest way to go, but something tells you to take a different route through the countryside. You don't do it, because it seems counter-intuitive, but then you end up stuck in this horrible traffic jam, and you kick yourself for not taking what now proves to be the better route. Of course, if you are tuned in to the frequency on the radio, or your smart phone, that reports the traffic, you would also be aware of the problem ahead and could listen to that voice. The trick is to be tuned in. And to listen.
I was laying on my yoga mat thinking, "yep, this is how I have been living my life."
The universe has been talking to me lately.
Ok, not just talking...screaming, yelling, pleading.
It's been telling me, "Hey, chickie! You can't live your life the way you've been doing it! It's not going to work anymore."
Everything that has happened over the last year from my divorce, to my car wreck, to the loss of my job has stripped away almost every semblance of my old life.
I'm not going to lie. It's scary as shit.
The roles that I have played for the past several years are all gone.
I'm nobody's wife.
I'm not a high school teacher.
I don't have a household to run.
I'm still a mother, but even that role has changed dramatically, since I don't live with my children.
So, what does that leave me with?
Me.
Just me.
Whoa. That is both an exhilarating and frightening proposition.
Last week, I was so frightened at the prospect of having nowhere to live and no plans beyond the next few weeks that I cried out in anguish, "I want my life back!"
Almost as soon as the words came out of my mouth, I realized what a ridiculous plea that was.
There's a short story called "The Monkey's Paw" where a couple is granted three wishes on the talisman. It's  a testament to being careful of what you wish for. First they wish for $200 to pay off their house, which leads to their son being killed with the money coming from his death settlement. They wish for their dead son to return, but when they hear the thing at the door that was their son, the father uses the last wish to put him back in his grave. Wishing for my old life back was like the couple's wish for their dead son. One cannot bring something dead back to life. See also: Stephen King's Pet Cemetery. It ain't purty.
Which leaves me with exhilarating.
I have this empty plate. What will I put on it?
In the midst of all this change, I have stuck with yoga. I signed up for my 200 hour certification back at the beginning. I didn't know why. I just listened to the little voice that said, "do it." And I have been on my mat listening and learning ever since. Carie's training is showing me that I am not crazy to listen to the voices in my head. I am on a journey. I don't know the exact destination, but I am planning to enjoy the sights.
I have seen some wondrous things. I am learning that there is SO much more out there to see. There are so many other ways to live than the life I have been leading.
I am remembering my dreams.
I am reconnecting with people who meant so much to me before my marriage.
I am beginning to find out who I am, not in relationship to someone else but for my own sake.
I am singing, dancing, and telling stories.
I feel lighter than air, like I am floating on gossamer wings above the beautiful redwoods in the fairy forest.
I am tuning in to that frequency. I will take that drive through the countryside instead of staying on the freeway.
Namaste' y'all!

Leave the Brass Ring

Everything lyrics from "A Star is Born" (1976)

The year has turned. We are a whole week into the new one. It's a calendar thing; I feel both like I already started and like I am still floating, not really still in the old one but like I haven't quite reached the brink of the new one. Maybe this is purgatory....the in-between time, not really a punishment, just a holding area. Maybe it's the fog and mist around me, but sometimes I feel a little bit like I am living in Brigadoon, waiting for the fog to lift and life to begin again.
All around me, people are working, engaged in their back-to-routine activities. I have no back-to-routine activities. I'm just hanging around, absorbing the vibe.

I want to learn what life is for
I don't want much, I just want more

I have been away from my home and all that I have been accustomed for almost a month now. Everything is different. The weather is different; the people are different; the environment is different. I am out of my normal element, which is making me begin to see things in a new way.

Ask what I want and I will sing
I want everything (everything)

I loved this song when I was young; 1976, I was thirteen, just beginning to wonder about life outside of my family's walls. There were so many possibilities. I feel that way again, which is probably why the lyrics have been floating in my head lately.
People keep asking me if I am coming back to Texas. The answer is "yes." I have too much there to leave: children, friends, yoga kula, family...I am not ready to leave those things behind.

I'd cure the cold and the traffic jam
If there were floods, I'd give a damn

But there does appear to be something else on the horizon. I don't think I can really cure the cold or the traffic jam, but I can definitely give a damn. I am going to be working with Keith's organization Move to Amend as a communications and outreach intern. I want to continue to travel with him and help him with this movement for social change. I am going to assist him in writing a book detailing the movement and the plan. There is good work to be done.

I'd never sleep, I'd only sing
Let me do everything (everything)

I sing a lot these days. I sing with happiness and joy. I sing with life. I sing of love.

I'd like to plan a city, play the cello
Play at Monte Carlo, play Othello
Move into the White House, paint it yellow
Speak Portuguese and Dutch

See! So many possibilities. I want to teach yoga. I want to dance. I want to write and sing and play. I want to learn to speak Spanish. I want to travel lots of places. I want to do some acting. I want to talk to people, hear their stories, and write them down. I am feeling that same sense of possibility I felt at 13 but then allowed to go to sleep.

And if it's not too much
I'd like to have the perfect twin
And who'd go out as I come in

Wouldn't that be great? I could do so much! But would I be able to enjoy what both were doing? On second thought, who knows what that twin might do? It never seems to turn out well in the cartoons.

I've got to grab the big brass ring
So I'll have everything (everything)

Ok, well...here is what I have learned about the brass ring...I went to a carousel once with a brass ring you could try to grab. It was hard. I kept passing it and seeing it and trying to reach it and then I would just miss it and have to go around again. Then, the whole time I was making the circuit, instead of enjoying the ride, I was concentrated on what I was going to do when I got back to where I could reach it. Finally, I got it. Elation! Then, I looked into my hand and thought, "so what?"

Yeah, I think I will avoid the brass ring and enjoy the ride.

I'm like a child who's set free
At the fun fair
Every ride invites me and it's unfair
Saying that I only get my one share

This is better. I've got an all-day, all-ride pass here. Why would I only pick one ride to get on and stay there? I plan to ride ALL the rides (except maybe that thing that spins you up against the wall. That thing makes me nauseous.)

Doesn't seem just
I could live as I must
If they'd give me the time to turn the tide

That's what I'm taking. TIME. I am not making any decisions here. I am just going with the flow. I want to enjoy things. I have been too focused on goals that once I reached them, like the brass ring, I have looked at and thought "so what? Why did I work so hard for this?"

Give me the truth if once I lied

The truth. The truth has so many facets. It really depends on what side one is looking at. The truth is complicated. I'm ready to face that.

Give me the man Who's gonna bring
More of everything

This is the part my little, pre-feminist self had trouble with. Why did I need a man to bring all this? Why can't I do this by myself?
But, the truth is this is important.
Why would I want all this just for myself? What fun is it if you have to play by yourself?

Then I'll have everything
Everything
You know what I just realized? I do have Everything. We all do.
Namaste' ya'll!