The dawn of things to come...

In the past year my relationship with Eric and yoga have been the focus of my attention and energy. The two have become symbiotic, my love and my practice each supporting the growth and depth of the other, and not only helping me become more aware of who I am and how I want to show up, but allowing me to begin to get out of my own way so I can own and hold that space. Fittingly so, both my practice and my relationship are evolving, almost graduating, to new depths of possibility. In this past week I have begun teaching yoga classes, an incredibly daunting concept for me, and this weekend will be the last of the teacher training modules, concluding six months of intense study and practice. At the same time, Eric and I have decided t0 get married three months from now and are in the throws of wedding plans. Both transitions are exciting and full of possibility. Whereas in the past so much change would likely have sent me into a spiral of anxiety and fear, instead I find myself full of excitement and anticipation and for one of the first times feeling like I am coming into my own.

May Day

On May 1 2009, in the violets of Tennessee I told Eric I loved him...and he loved me, too. A year has gone by and much has occurred, and through it all he has been everything I've ever wanted. Yesterday was a year since our time down South, and it was a truly gnarly day for me. I'm due to be getting my period in a couple days so as per usual the week preceding I am emotionally and physically off. I hit Corrina's hot yoga class before the Pranayama workshop which was scheduled to keep us indoors for the majority of a beautiful spring day. The class was incredibly hot and a combination of being exhausted and hormonally unbalanced made my practice a real struggle. I was relieved to make it through practice, but bummed to be facing nearly 4 hours of indoor lecture while it was so nice outside. My solace was the anticipation of the hike Eric and I would go on after the workshop was over.

Things got progressively more disturbing as I learned that half of the workshop was actually going to be asana, the idea of which made my body and mind wilt beyond the point of despair I was already coping with. I cried through much of the practice and came out feeling void of most all feeling and emotion to find a smiling Eric in the studio lobby. He took one look at me and his spirits dropped.

I wanted so badly on a special day to be chipper for him, so with a little effort and the help of delicious food to help nourish my system I started to recoup. I didn't know where we were going to hike, though I suspected we were heading for Bear Mountain, up on the CT-MA line. By the time we arrived I was feeling much better and still looking forward to walking in the woods. It only took moments of being there to be fully engulfed by gnats which stuck with us 90% of the hike up, with only short reprieve from cool breeze. Though the bugs added another degree of frustration to an already trying day, I was happy to be out in the woods with Eric with no real destination or pressure. And I very much knew something was up though I didn't want to set any expectations. I still have a hard time subscribing to the idea of my intuition, I feel more like I'm observant and very cognitive. Whatever the source may be, I knew something was in store and though I felt nervous and anxious, I was curious to see what it may be.

We arrived at the Riga trail sign and though we didn't intend on summiting Bear Mtn., we headed off northward, now on the AT. It had to be the AT... We'd gone a bit when Eric said he had to go to the bathroom and off he walked into the woods. I walked back a little bit to stand in a clearing and clear my head for what I anticipated may be coming. In a little bit I was beckoned off trail to come see something Eric would like to show me. I'd love to say that my scanning eyes didn't notice the little box in the leaf-litter. But what he wanted to show me was a small frame with a red glass panel hanging from a tree. As I looked at it I saw two small dehydrated, sun-washed plants pressed between the panes of glass. I thought they were four leaf clovers. But they were the two violets I had in my hair that day a year ago in Tennessee when we said we loved each other. He'd saved them, pressed in a book, to give to me a year later. And as I took the frame off the tree it was then that I noticed the fishing line that was tied to the little box below on the ground.

One year, eight months, and three days before and four hundred sixty four miles North of there, we met and we would change each others lives forever.
One year before and eleven hundred miles South of there we said we loved each other.
He said he wants to spend the rest of his life with me, and asked me if I would marry him.

Inside the box was a beautiful round diamond in a tapered setting. I had always expected my Grandma Valvanis' pear shaped ring. But this is my Grandma Monti's stone in a setting Eric chose. He says he had a hard time deciding but what he ultimately found was that the round stone is balanced, and the setting is simple but detailed and flowing, and these things were symbolic of me for him. After sitting with my mother and brother and getting all kinds of information he had gotten details confused. The idea of the stone from my grandmother who lived in California resonated for him but he ultimately thought he was choosing the other one. Without knowing it he chose the ring from my California grandmother and the one that symbolically resonated for him.

I'm happy. I'm nervous and feeling anxiety and fear, but I'm happy. I, like most girls, have gone through life anticipating that at some point someone would ask me to marry them. For a year now, maybe even before that, I hoped it would be Eric. I'm working on processing the reality of that now. It's entirely surreal.

Checking in...online and with myself

A lot has been going on, and only recently do I feel like I'm centering enough to start to process. The last teacher training weekend left me feeling stirred up, but unable to filter through my feelings. I think perhaps that has been a general trend over the last six weeks...not taking time or feeling able to assess what is going on or how I am feeling. So much in the thick of things that I often didn't even realize I was not processing. Training is coming up again this weekend which is likely what has helped snap be back to consciousness over the last week or so. In feeling like I have been behind on my studies, because let's face it--I am a procrastinator, I've re immersed myself in the reading and assignments for the month. The work has reminded me of how important it is to take time to listen to myself and to nourish myself. It's funny how I recognize and value these concepts and yet I easily stray. The phrase "two steps forward, one step back" truly resonates.

I feel myself beginning to wander down the old familiar road of poor body image and it's scary. I do not feel good in my own skin, and I don't want to feel this way. However, the only methods by which I have successfully reshaped my image, physically and mentally, has wrought such emotional damage that I would not consciously travel that path again for fear of all that I've accomplished and built for myself unraveling around. The ill voice in my head is beginning to twist the beautiful, nourishing information I am gaining into distorted methods of self-torture. The idea of lowering or even eliminating my sugar intake is shifting from being born of improving my well-being to reducing caloric intake and losing pounds. The thought that gluten affects me adversely is not merely based in the possibility that I might be intolerant and it makes me not feel well, but that if I drop gluten I would be dropping carbs.

I look to this coming weekend with hope and trepidation. The work is hard and leaves me off kilter, but I have faith in the idea that by making my way through what is challenging on all levels, I will come out the better for the wear.

Treasured moments from a wintery weekend upstate

Bitter cold registering at or below zero for much of the days, which we conquered and enjoyed by wearing layers of gear. Incredibly cold, but crisp, clear and gorgeous...

Eric and I both adjusting to a trip with Bismark in tow---Eric simply needing to have a moment to realize that Biz would not be a bother and I needing a moment to acknowledge then release the sentiments that having Biz sleep in bed brought up from my past...

A sketchy little, no-frills motel that put no restrictions on Biz and cost hardly anything. Some may have balked...for us, it couldn't have been more perfect.

A sunset hike up to a wooded lake with my boys... micro-spikes are incredible, being outdoors in the winter is priceless.

Starting the day on two mornings with oatmeal with bananas and raisins and fresh ground, fresh brewed coffee at Country Bear, a quaint little cafe. Ending two days of glorious outings with delicious dinner, wine and $2 draughts at Dancing Bear... why look for something different when you've found something good?

Driving through the winding mountain pass with no headlights and sitting road-side cloud watching at night, both made possible by the light of a glowing full moon.

Sleeping warmly, curled up with my fella, feeling truly tired after days spent outdoors.

A full day of skiing, and truly enjoying myself, despite feeling nervous and sore at times coupled with sub-zero temperatures...awesome.

Walking through a veritable blizzard to re-con a growler of local beer...

A 8+mile round trip trek in the snow to the foot of White Face...we may not have summited but the walk was worth it.

The long weekend was spectacular in so many ways. Though it's good to be home, getting away was a good reminder of things we need to make priorities. Getting home is both comfortable and unnerving as it was so easy to get away and truly be away--body and mind. Now that I'm back it will take a couple days to get my head back on...a lot of processing going on in my head.

A ray of sunlight....

As much goodness and growth I experienced last week through my yoga studies, it was also an extremely difficult week for me personally. I've been struggling with the job situation for 6 months now, longer actually. It's been 6 months that I've been in Connecticut looking for a job, but I've been pondering what I want to do and how to go about doing it since I left for my hike in August 2008. I know very much how I want to feel in my work--happy, fulfilled, passionate, creative, positive, valuable-- but have been floundering in what exactly it is that can provide me with such gratification. Last week I felt as though I hit a low point, feeling entirely defeated and discouraged by my situation. Some wonderful yoga, a special talk with a friend, the continuous unfaltering support of my fella, and a new perspective sent me into the beginning of this week with renewed optimism, ready to make efforts anew to find a job. I felt strongly that things will be ok, and something was going to give. Ironically, this change of energy bore fruit quickly and unexpectedly.

After practice teaching with a woman from the training, she casually inquired about the subbing I've been doing. She asked me if I liked it, to which I replied emphatically "I hate it." With that she offered me a job. Not just any job, but a job aligning with what I have been looking for. She owns a vegan restaurant in town and offered to train me as the assistant pastry chef. I could hardly believe it. I admire this woman and her business for so many reasons, the chance to learn from her is invaluable.

I worked for a couple hours Tuesday morning, and loved it. I came home feeling really wonderful, and that night yoga class was celebratory for me in contrast to all the classes I've done looking for solace and healing. I genuinely feel that it was the energy I was exuding-- that things were going to turn around and I could make it happen-- that opened this opportunity for me. As Linda tells us in class, "The universe rarely offers up what we are not open to receive."

What is perhaps the strangest thing is that though I wasn't really listening at the time, my intuition told me this would happen. I DREAMED I should be baking the night before. Part of the yoga teacher training is about intuition and we have a reading assignment in Judith Orloff's Guide to Intuitive Healing. In the book she talks about using your dreams to access your intuition, and details an exercise where before you go to bed to ask yourself a question you are looking for the answer to, and in the morning before you hop out of bed to recollect your dreams to find an answer. Sunday night, after talking with Low, as I was going to sleep I lay in bed and I focused on asking what I am meant to be doing for work. It is a question I've wrestled with for awhile. That night I dreamed of teaching yoga...and I dreamed of baking cupcakes. In the morning, as I recalled my dreams I figured that I dreamt such things because that is what I've been pursuing recently. I'd recently spent a large chunk of time writing a cover letter to Whole Foods explaining why even though I had no experience that I am the person to be their new cake decorator. For the last week I'd been trying to build the courage to walk into Fusion bakery downtown and see if they'd hire me. I had been googling bakeries in the area to see if any said anything about hiring. I figured the dream was more a result of what was bouncing around my brain than my intuition telling me what was to come. And yet, here it is...training to bake.

A much needed dose of Low

I'm sitting here, mulling over the words of a valued friend...wanting so badly to take them to heart, keeping them close enough to protect me from what goes on inside me...to take them and use them to make a positive difference for myself. Low is someone who has that magic about him that seems to brighten everything he touches. Spending time with him today was a much needed reminder that there are approaches to life that truly embrace the goodness and wonder that is available if you are open to the possibility that what you envision is possible. In contrast to so many wonderful things I have in my life, I've been dealing with some of the most daunting challenges and questions at the same time. Lately, the burden seems harder to bear and it's taking a toll on my spirit. One of Low's brilliant talents is the ability to express his thoughts and feelings both in writing and outloud, and he had some real insight for me today.

As we sat and talked over lunch, I couldn't help but think how much I needed Low to appear in my life right now, how grateful I am to have him come with sorely needed words of encouragement and faith. I flashed to a thought of Icarus and how this Autumn he reminded me of such an important lesson I learned on the trail, but somehow keep losing... about the people who come through your life as messengers, sharing things you need at specific times. Low was very much that messenger today. I want to believe him that I can grab the world, turn it upside down and shake out the contents for my choosing. ME. That maybe I am different, that I can make it happen. And he's right, the hardest trap to get out of is your mind...it's the biggest obstacle for me...it consumes me.

Even after he's left, and the evening has come and gone, and I get ready to go to sleep I keep coming back to that lunch table. I wish I could remember all he said, the exact phrasing. Despite losing some words, perhaps distorting others in my mind, the sentiment lingers with me. I need to move beyond the fear and doubt and take hold...it's here for me. ME.

The week in review...

Full of ups and downs, hopes and frustrations...these are some of my defining moments this week, in no particular order.

I listen to my body and my gut, going to Restorative yoga rather than the stronger Hot Yoga class that would only serve to feed my ego at this point, while further draining a body and spirit that had an intense weekend. Restorative was more than I could hope for, and I leave the studio entirely yoga-stoned for the night. Even my voice is a lower, more grounded octave. Bliss.

I hit a low, breaking down emotionally from a long day of unwittingly hurtful children. I like to think if they realized their behavior was more than frustrating, but truly damaging to an already weak and disheartened spirit, that perhaps they would have acted differently. I leave the classroom feeling powerless, worthless, and defeated. Though I cry all the way home and much of the evening, clouds and a setting winter sun remind me there is hope on the horizon...it will be ok. Solice.

How ironic? Thinking I turned my phone off so as to be unreachable to teach for the day, I sleep a deep, rejuvenating, peaceful sleep...only to realize in the morning that I have forgotten to turn off the phone, I just didn't get called :) Joy.

After a satiating practice with Nykki, I splendor at the bulk food section of Whole Foods, buying whole grains I've never heard of until recently, and hand-pick gorgeous winter root vegetables. I spend the better part of the afternoon dancing around the kitchen listening to long-lost music with solid rhythm lines and back beats while preparing Winter Root Vegetable soup and basking in the feeling of goodness inside me and around me. Satisfaction.

Four days into meditating daily... it feels good... I look forward to it...it's becoming more natural... I like this. Sanctuary.

I sleep restlessly due to preoccupation and dread as to whether the phone will ring calling me to teach. It is only when the clock reads 7:20 when I think I am officially in the clear and am about to settle into a much more relaxed sleep, when through the slits of my eyelids I see the morning winter sky....and I want it. I relish in walking Bismark with the cold in my face, grey and white clouds above me against a sky threatening navy blue in color. Tea and reading greet me at home and Bismark settles in beside me. Peace.

The weekend awaits-- offering the joy of a visit from a dear friend, the nourishment of yoga practice, relishing in the love of my fella, and all that I can't anticipate. Taking it all in.

Teacher Training Begins

Yoga teacher training began last Friday. The weekend was charged with positive energy that kept me feeling strong and engaged the whole way through despite the long hours. Friday began with a two hour practice. I felt a bit stiff and cloudy, probably because I was unsure of where the weekend was heading and was feeling apprehensive. Despite initial concerns, the evening was wonderful, culminating in sharing circle where we all had some time to speak. Who are you...why are you here...what do you hope to get from the training...what are your fears regarding it. The group ranges in age from 18 to late 60s. All different life experiences and perspectives, but with a common thread bringing us together--the desire to learn, grow, and open ourselves to new healthier, more whole lives. Saturday and Sunday I felt more receptive to practice, coming out of two more lengthy, strong sessions feeling invigorated and centered. I'm realizing how much I've gained from consistent, vigorous practice. If I weren't going to the studio nearly everyday the toll on my body would have been great. But I felt genuinely good. I don't know when it began, but I've noticed that I am doing much more of the practice with my eyes closed. It feels good to move inward, focusing of breath, movement, and stillness. I can't help but feel proud of myself for no longer feeling the urge to look around the room to see who's there, what they're doing, and thinking about how I compare.

The training offers much more in addition to the yoga and learning to teach. We're learning about intuition, meditation, whole foods nutrition. There's so much I want to know, and I find myself itching to have it all at my finger tips now. So, I remind myself not to get my wheels spinning, and to approach it piece by piece. And so the week has gone, and I've made my work a priority. I'm keeping a food journal, meditating, and working on the reading. Today I made winter root vegetable soup, one of the numerous recipes I want to try.

I'm still not sure what will come of all this. My hopes are high, but I can't attach any expectation to it. There's a lot of work to be done on a lot of levels. But I'm excited about the journey and where it may lead.