I suppose I should be grateful to have two weeks with nothing much to do except a little bit of summer school homework.
But instead I stay antsy, wondering when exactly I will get some news... any news... about a call or even just a regular jobby-job, not sleeping well, obsessing about the future and money and blah blah blah.
I've been trying to use the extra time to do some of the things I let slide a bit during the school year... eating better, going to yoga, doing the things that keep me (relatively) sane and spiritual. They make me feel better and keep me from spiraling too deep into my stupid obsessions and the dubious selections in my Netflix Instant queue.
It almost surprises me a bit how deeply/emotionally this period of uncertainty is hitting me. I've been without work before for stretches of as long as a few months, and I never questioned myself so much or struggled with it so much...
Maybe because those times I hadn't invested 4 years of my life in graduate school. Maybe because those times the lack of employment didn't make me question whether or not I had correctly discerned God's will for my life. Maybe because those times I had cable teevee to distract me.
I don't know.
I went to yoga today, despite the fact that I slept terribly last night and spent the morning manically submitting resumes for administrative jobs on Craigslist. I figured it would be good for me to get out and go to class, even though my brain would really rather spend the day obsessing.
They say you're not "good at yoga" if you can bend into all kinds of crazy poses, but rather, you're "good at yoga" if you can stay focused on your breath and your own body's strengths and limitations - you push yourself, but you also pay attention to what feels good or what hurts, and there are some things you simply can't do without having practiced yoga for a long, long time... and since I'm just getting back into it after months of not really working out at all, even some of the simple poses I had previously worked up to are challenging or impossible.
Anyway. All the crap going on in my brain showed up loud and clear in body during today's class. I couldn't hold any balance poses for more than a few seconds. I felt like I had no strength in my arms or my upper legs. At one point I was ready to swear off ever doing a stupid chair pose again. (Seriously. This instructor *loved* her chair poses.) While everyone else balanced and twisted and looked calm and spiritual, I found myself feeling frustrated and repeatedly going back to resting poses - downward-facing dog or child's pose - and halfway through the hour I decided my only real goal for the day was to stay in the room for the full hour.
But that's something.
Downward-facing dog doesn't really look much like a dog to me, but child's pose is the perfect name for what you do with your body in that pose. You sit back on your knees on the mat, so your butt is touching your heels (or close to it), and fold your upper body and head forward until your forehead touches the mat, with your arms either straight out in front of you on the floor or laying at your sides. It looks like a position of complete submission, kinda like, well, what a tired child might do when she just doesn't want to keep going.
Child's pose is a "restorative" pose, meaning it's not about pushing or straining, but a pose that lets your body rest and recuperate.
And during the class today, I realized that taking child's pose when I need to is a vital part of the practice, and a vital part of life. Knowing that I need to go into child's pose and doing it even if everyone else in the room is happily going into some crazy, body-pushing balancing pose... that's brave. Acknowledging weakness when I'm feeling weak can be as brave - maybe braver - than being strong on my most powerful-feeling day.
And pretty soon, I get up out of child's pose and join back with what the rest of the class is doing.
And it's okay. Because my goal doesn't have to be to do what everyone else does or feel how everyone thinks I should feel. Sometimes just staying in the room is the only goal you can muster up.
I feel kind of like that's what God is trying to teach me right now. That I am strong - stronger than I could possibly know - but that being vulnerable and honest about it is another side of strong that I need to learn to live into without shame.
That it's okay and necessary to say "I have no idea" and to let others teach me.
That it's okay and necessary to ask for help. Often.
That it's okay and necessary to go into child's pose.
If you're the praying kind, please keep me in your prayers. I need it right now. And also my family, as they struggle with their own challenges brought on by the flood in Minot in the last weeks/months.
And if you see me in child's pose, well, hey... I'm still in the room.
Thinking of you, praying -- and once again moved by your writing!
Posted by: Mary Hess | 06/11/2011 at 08:40 PM
Been there.
Really, really wanted to walk out in the middle of RTA this spring and never come back, but like you, forced myself to just stay in the room. Even told someone I was thinking of dropping out of sem completely. (Of course, I picked someone who I knew would help me see why I should stay in).
Uncertainty bites, especially when you feel like you're supposed to be trusting God with your future. Thanks for another reminder that we only understand strong when we've experienced weak. Requesting peace and Holy Spirit power shots to be sent your way, along with strength for your family.
Posted by: Riverchilde.wordpress.com | 06/14/2011 at 10:11 PM