Friday afternoon, I made choices that allowed me to use some time at the beach. Doing one of my favourite things.
Standing barefoot on the sand, water washing over my feet, watching the never ending ebb and flow of the waves as the ocean does it’s thing, completely ignoring me.
I just love that feeling, and haven’t ever really been able to put it into words. Recently, someone close to me did when talking life and death. “Really, I am not even a drop in the ocean”.
That is definitely part of what I love about the ocean. It has absolutely no concern or regarding for any of the things that I EVER worry about. I find something about it’s enormous and ever changing presence comforting and a reminder to just let go.
I stood watching the surfers out on their boards, sitting back behind the waves, in little clusters. Wouldn’t it be great to do just that part of surfing. The paddling out would be enormous hard work, requiring amazing balance. The ride back in. Again with the balance and the hard work. But the sitting out the back, legs in the water, body feeling the sun and the breeze, bobbing up and down. That. I would love that.
As I turned to walk back, I noticed this rock. Sitting, alone, so very different from every other piece on the beach. Content in it’s difference.
It made me smile. And to wish for the same contentment.
Then I turned and saw this.
I have been feeling a bit like that lately. In balance. That’s not to say that everything is awesome, or that there isn’t stuff (and stuff and then some more) that I haven’t done. Despite all that, I have sort of been feeling like that on the inside. Like I’M in balance. Not necessarily pretty, or altogether, but balancing. Adjusting here and there.
I no longer feel that I am running late. ALL THE TIME. I still have tons that I forget to do or simply don’t get done. Like school things and forms and *ahem* parent teacher interviews. And I am so grateful that I don’t feel like I’m in hyperdrive all the time anymore.
Then, very early Saturday morning, I pushed on through a comfort zone and made my way through my first ever Bikram Yoga session. My cousin Wade, a true Bikram yogi, offered to do a class with me. I got up in the dark, drove through what seemed to be potentially the start of a zombie apocalypse (It was really really misty) to head down to Caloundra for one of the most spectacular morning sunrise cloud displays I have seen. Amazing.
I showed up, but the Bikram practice certainly got the better of me. Nausea : check. Imminent risk of fainting : check. A little ball of hatred for Bikram : check. Then, I breathed some more, thought a lot less, and before I knew it (well, that’s a total lie, I knew every single moment I was in that incredibly hot room)
finally it was over. I don’t know when I first noticed it, but I really felt buzzing. Alive.
After my Bikram event, I went home to bake my first loaf of bread. All day Friday I had been ridiculously excited about trying this. The joy of the small things and all that.
Then, somehow, I crashed. The teen and I spiralled. Suddenly I’m screaming and crying. He’s yelling. You know. That moment as a parent when you realize you’ve been really inappropriate. Of course, we were due at the park just 15 minutes later to meet a group of parents and children from Sabrina’s prep class. All of whom have children 5 and under and so “of course would never ever have yelled like that at their kids”. Thanks monkey mind for that one.
Fortunately, I’ve been reminding myself of Brene Brown’s amazing work this week. She talks of the destructive power of shame (where I was straight after the explosion) and the importance of owning it, naming it, as being an important first step.
Yesterday, I leaned hard on those tools. I spoke what I was feeling. I apologised. I met with those mothers anyway.
My bread worked out.
And now I’m trying to decide whether or not I should go back to another Bikram class. At least to figure out whether I hate it or love it. I suspect there is no “liking” Bikram yoga.
And slowly, or quickly, depending on how long I want to beat myself up, I’ll find myself back feeling balanced. I think I choose quickly this time.
What are the best re-balancing tools in your toolkit?? I’d love to know what works for you.