How am I going to fit this training into my schedule. Can I afford it. Will I be be able to handle it. What if I can’t – what if I’m just not meant to push a thing I love into something more. Will I still love it. And work, what about work. I should be doing more. When I get back to LA, I have to figure it out. Figure out a plan. Work really hard. Gosh, this is hard. This is going to be hard. But it’s good, right? God, it’s great. So what are you worried about. A lot. I’m worried about a lot. Why do you always have to worry. Wasted energy. Stop wasting your energy. Get up, get up and walk around. You’re not going to be able to fall asleep, so get up.
Sitting on the bathroom floor of my hotel, I begin to write this down. And I remember a time in high school when I would lock myself in my room for hours to write, molding every sentence until it was perfectly, perfect, ready to be graded. A part of that me still jars, as I lay these words now, down in their place.
I’m in Orlando to see my Mom who’s set to bring her brilliance to this years Pillsbury Bake-Off. It begins early morning, her alarm set to go off in just a few hours. Quiet, I’m trying to be quiet. But this mind of mine. It gets in the way.
I am thinking. Thinking ‘if only’, like I do every time I visit my parents. If only my life were just a little bit more put together. A neatly wrapped package I could manage and unfold to them like a map predestined for success. This is how adults lived. They were managed, settled, successful and in turn happy. And though I feel for the first time in my life I am headed in the right direction, there are still no dividends yet. No proof but my word. Not exactly the package they hoped for.
I am thinking of my life in LA and it is all so overwhelming. In a good way of course, but an exciting good that makes my stomach hurt. All the possibilities there. God, this bathroom is HUGE. All the struggles. Really, I don’t even mind sitting in here, it’s kind of cozy. How far I still have yet to go. There is even a motion activated nightlight under the sink, if I lean just right on my elbows, I can write by it’s light. And how far I’ve come. Leaning on a pillow, of neatly stacked towels. I couldn’t even walk, my shins were so damaged. The nice tile floor falls away, my muscles tensing upward. I have a vision of where I would like to be. What equals happiness. Deep breath in through my nose, my muscles falling back to the cool tile. Nothing my mind makes is guaranteed, not in that way. There is too much to do, but only so much I can do. I push myself up into downward dog, the quintessential poses of yoga poses, settle, breathe, then all the way up to standing, mountain pose, tadasana. Deep breath in. Breath out. The motion activated nightlight kicks off. Breath in, reach up. Breath out, forward fold. For some reason, it doesn’t kick back on. Breath in, halfway lift. Breath out, forward fold. Darkness. My eyes forced to refocus. Breath in, all the way up, mountain pose. And repeat, repeating the repetitions. Breath in. Breath out. How am I going to do this. Breath in, reach up. Breath out, forward fold. How will it work. Breath in, halfway lift. Breath out, forward fold. It has to work. Breath in, step back, plank position. Breath out, sweep through, head shoulders, chest. And if it doesn’t? Breath in, pressing back, upward facing dog. Out, downward facing dog. It will. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. It will. Deep breath in. Hold. Exhale. Let it all out. It will work, it just will.
I love a cool hotel like anybody else, but we stayed at The Peabody in Orlando. I have to say, I’m a huge fan. Thanks Mum.