It's been an interesting few months. I started a new job, one I really like thus far, particularly because of the kind and fun-loving souls I work with, and the company I represent. I'm paid vastly more than anything I was able to earn in the past 5.5 years teaching Yoga. I have health care. I have benefits, people.
Why am I still plagued by incessant doubt? Why does my psyche love dissatisfaction? Why does it constantly crave something else? NO(thing) specific, just something ELSE. Why? It is a fundamental part of my encoding that I must grapple with my decisions, question myself unyieldingly, and never stop feeling like I'm somehow failing myself and others on a regular basis.
I'm still teaching, which was very important to me. So I still get to work out this shit with my students, leveling with them as I attempt to soothe them into stillness. But I'm still grappling with constant contradictions in my mind. I want more quiet. I want more privacy. I want more simplicity. I want more structure. More consistency. More security. And on the other hand I want more friends. More students. More readers. More unique opportunities. More travel. More validation.
Why I can't have both in this new world is beyond me.
But I can't help but feel I'm giving up something and I keep fearing that I'm giving up on myself. But why? A beautiful opportunity knocks on my door, one that hundreds of people have vied for and so many would accept without question, and I'm so excited and grateful in one breath, but unsure on the other. Sure, every decision has an opportunity cost. Basic economics taught us that. What's funny and ironic is I got exactly what I felt I needed and wanted and yet now I'm concerned by exactly that.
As a teenager I wanted to host my own TV show, like Oprah or Rosie or Ellen or some other awesome lesbian we all love. But I entered college and began studying Radio/Television and hated it. I thought, 'I can't possibly waste years, possibly decades of my life to only possibly be the girl standing in the middle of a hurricane, wishing I was spouting nonsense and giving away free shit to an audience full of moms and aunts."
And I still have this strange, gnawing desire. I know my personality is unique and I know my voice is strong. I've grown into a much softer, more self aware, brutally honest albeit somewhat eloquent adult. I want to share what I love with others. Why can't I share my strengths with my community without needing notoriety and attention to follow? Why can't I feel successful in having a great job with a fantastic company while still being a loving and devoted teacher?
Is it LA? Nope, it's me. There are so many aspects of the Yoga "industry" that I do not resonate with, so it doesn't even make sense for me to pursue big mainstream success via that avenue anyway. And Yoga is what grounds me. It should not serve as my "platform" which will only serve my ego. I am so proud of how Yoga has educated me, of the people it's connected me to, and of how my body has transformed because of it. That's all it needs to be. Period.
I'm airing this shit out here because I've had writer's block for months. I want to write but can't. I make excuses because of time. Because of exhaustion. Because of priorities. But truthfully I'm scared to expose my true, honest, raw self, the beautiful and the ugly. This may surprise many given the subject matter of many of my posts, given my hyper self-deprecating nature and my affinity for discontent. But nonetheless I feel compelled to express this because I know releasing it will help diminish its power within me. And it will help restore the power where it belongs, inside my heart.
And I need that genuine power right now. I want to keep kicking ass at my new job and keep caring for my students through Yoga. I still have eons to go, to move, to grow, so much to learn, innumerable ways to expand. And somehow I keep forgetting I'm twenty fucking nine! Not 80. Not dying, thankfully. Not diseased. Not so advanced in age that I should have it ALL figured out. But even since my youth I've placed the unfair expectation on myself that I should. I am beyond fucking blessed, in every way imaginable. Loving and supportive family. Superb friends. Delicious and wise husband. The cutest animals. A warm home. Healthy food. Clean water.
I need to just shut the fuck up. Nut up. Do my best. Be grateful for the insurmountable good I've received and ride the wave of life. It's been a beautifully unpredictable journey so far. Why not see where this new direction takes me? I need to cultivate a deeper inside rather than a more colorful outside. I've experienced so much, achieved a fare amount of good, traveled a ton, been broken hearted, insanely in love, and so much in between.
Santosha is my practice, I Am is my mantra. I shall accept myself fully, remind myself of all I am beyond my descriptions, definitions, accolades and characteristics. I've yet to fully succumb to the lessons bestowed through practice and truly practice what I teach. So my practice moving forward is to do just that. Be. Here. Now. Accept all I am and all I am not. Open to all that is yet to arrive without a need to predict or assume.
Transitions always lead to questions and confusion and uncertainty and worry. And perspective always arrives in unforeseen ways and in unexpected packages. I need to just fucking be. Just fucking be, idiot. Just be.