I often joke that my life is a cartoon, and that interesting things just - - happen. I'm the queen of random events that spring up and become part of the larger picture, or I'll find myself consenting to be part of things that wind up playing out as a hilarious mini-disaster, like the time my dad decided to use a shop vac to blow a clog out of the central vacuum system hose and dislodged a clog of Christmas tree needles and dust that cannon-balled out with a FOOOMP and made one hell of a mess. In the living room. Which was predominantly off-white. I'm also known for random ideas that double me over into a fit of giggles, sometimes at inopportune moments. But sometimes, other things happen that are equally as seemingly random - but not as much fun.
Lately, I've been waking up mad - and it's weird. I *like* my mornings. I enjoy writing in my journal while having coffee, dancing with my dog, and getting everything in check before I get into my day. Granted, I've been through a highly transformative year - almost nothing is the same as it was this time last year. So anxiety I could wrap my head around - but anger? Literally, "Oh, hell. It's morning, damn it.", will be the first thought that pops to mind.
And it's been heightening as I've been getting back on my mat on a consistent basis. Yoga taps into stuff, I know that. And as amazing as I say the clearings it's helped me reach are, navigating them isn't always what I want to be dealing with. I'm not saying 100% that I'm tapping into things on my mat - but the more I move back into practice, the more it's happening. As much as I would rather put on some cartoons and not deal with it, something I've heard in training after training comes to mind: The way out is through.
Whoa, Nelly - right? And right now, reading that? The first thought that comes to mind is, "I don't have time to sit down and deal with it." But I have time to write a blog entry, check the laundry, put a graphics order together, work on something on Facebook for a project that's in the works, sit and stare out the window. Oh, and make a shopping list. If I have time for those things, why do I not have time to sit down, check in, and get the gut-level anger that pops up every....single....morning into words? Writing is a great clearing for me. (It's also a great avoidance tactic. Watch! I can get another paragraph out here!)
So I'm going to do that. And if there's something gnawing at you that you think you don't have time to deal with? I invite you to face up to giving yourself the time to clear it. I've found it rarely takes long, and that the benefits are vast - as vast as the space in my life that clears when I finally sit down, dig in, and distill the swirl to just a few words, letting whatever comes up, come up. I promise - even if you're telling yourself you don't know what's creating something like what I've described - you do. You know.
Trust that knowing, and lets work through it.
(I swear I'm really going to do this.)
(Like, now.)
(Well, after I post this.)
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