Leaps

It's been two hard years, and six of the hardest months I can remember. Each time I would practice I would be caught up against the rocks, with the tide crashing into me. I didn't want to change, I didn't want to let go of the story I'd created, or the comfort of the life I was living. The dissatisfaction was familiar, and I told myself I could fix it. So, every time I would roll out my mat, I would find the same obstacles, until finally, I couldn't ignore how unhappy I was.

The first month was spent in absolute, angry confidence that I had made the right choice. The second, in a terribly painful limbo. The third, convinced I'd made a mistake. Fear and doubt sent me back pedalling like a cartoon from the edge of a 100ft tall diving board. I leapt through hoops trying to get my old life back, trying to get those feelings back.

 One night a couple weeks into my "new" life, I was sitting on my bed in absolute darkness, wailing. The ferocity of my grief was terrifying to me. I didn't believe I could ever feel OK again. That I'd ever be less angry, less lonely. I know it was the idea of a life that I'd created in my head, with a person that didn't really exist that I was mourning, the fact that I'd held on so long to a fantasy, made it even more painful.

It's only been just over a month since that night in the dark where I begged the universe to tell me how I could ever possibly be happy again. The universe has answered every single day. It felt a bit like the entire natural world was conspiring to remind me of the astonishing beauty of life. I found myself laughing out loud in my own company. Finding energy and focus in all things, that I didn't know I had. Re-discovering how unbelievably fucking blessed I am to have the friends and family that I do. Even making new friends. Choosing to go back to school. Slowly starting to have dreams about my life that choke me with excitement. Long story short, Life is good.

Sometime in July I had the amazing opportunity to spend an afternoon doing flying trapeze through my work. I considered not going the entire morning. Even as I biked there, I told myself I wasn't going through with it. My lungs started to fill with what felt like hard air, filling me up and leaving me feeling empty, and pretty freaked out. I didn't talk as much as I usually do. When it came to my turn, I marched up that ladder, and tried not to think. I stood on the ledge of the platform, feeling the lurch of my stomach as I took one hand off the bar I was holding. I feel like I'm there again. I'm leaving for a weekend away at an Ashram in a few hours. My bag is packed, I've prepared everything I can prepare. After I climb on the shuttle, my role as pilot becomes secondary. Just like in that moment, of having no idea what the reality of what I'd have to face would be like, my only job is to let go.

As far as the trapeze went, I did alright. With my consciousness doing backflips trying to convince me to not jump off a ledge, a part of me that is deep and eternal and divine led me through it, and plunked me on the net where my consciousness caught up screaming "HOLY SHIT! DID YOU SEE THAT!? LETS DO THAT AGAIN!!!" and I did.


So here I go, off to face the void. Wish me luck.