Leapin’ Lizards!

My lizards were back in the hot room today! Well, all but the one who moved to the other side of the country… But I guess we can forgive her for that. I was so happy to see my bendy friends!

Today, I was surprised by my thoughts during practice. I honestly try reallllllllly hard not to have any, but sometimes (most times) I can’t help it.

I was surprised how much I could still do following such a long break. I thought I looked good, not skinny, but healthy, and strong, and deliriously happy, and couldn’t really imagine myself weighing 30lbs less than I do right now. Even though I did… for a very long time.

5lbs less would be nice, then I think I’d go back to practicing without a shirt on. Which is nice. It’s less hot, less gross, and easier to see where to make adjustments.

Honestly, and this blog has always been a forum of total transparency, I lost a lot more than 5lbs last week after coming back, and expect I’ll be practicing without a shirt by this weekend.

I don’t actually think it’s the yoga, but things are shifting.

Last week was incredibly stressful. Aside from my dog being sick, it seems like all of the people closest to me were suddenly, and simultaneously in crisis. Like really mega scary shit happening all over and all at once, major surgeries, meningitis scare, sick dogs, sick parents, scary ex’s.

I work for two families. One is amazing, both parents are brilliant, funny and totally devoted to their little genius spawn who has a heart bigger than any little kid I have ever met.

The second family is killing me. Literally. Sucking the life out of me. I need some amount of stability to successfully exist. I don’t require a ton of money or a lot of things. I love Chapstick like most women love shoes, it is a cheap habit to indulge.

I do need stability, accountability, reliability…? I don’t know, some kind of -ility. Whatever.

I sit on their porch sometime for 40 minutes in the mornings, because he overslept. They forget to pay me. He says he’ll be home at 5:30, expects me to charge him as if he arrived at 5:30, then doesn’t roll in until after 6, and wants to sit around and shoot the shit. He boastfully does not own a watch, and doesn’t understand that “5:30” is an actual instant that happens for every single person in our time zone at the exact same instant.

When he says 5:30, I make sure the baby is clean, all the toys are picked up, dishes washed- they don’t have a working dishwasher, and my father taught me you never do half a job, so I am the only person who ever washes dishes in that house. Then I always
have something not messy planned to do with her for the last 15 minutes, that way, in theory, he walks in at 5:30 to a clean house and a happy, engaged baby. When he doesn’t then show up until 6:15, I’m by that point mid-anxiety attack, the kid has made another mess, or wanted more food and dirtied more dishes, or wrinkled her clothes, or messed up her hair, or she’s crying because she’s been with me for 11 hours and would really like to see her parents. Sometimes I strap her into the high chair and turn the tv on so I can go in the bathroom to cry during this hellish last hour that I don’t even get paid for.

This family is destroying all sense of control.

Unsurprisingly, I am suddenly overcome with an irresistible compulsion to compensate for their chaos. To do that, I need rules, rituals, and restriction.

Yoga by itself is not harmful. However, yoga amidst chaos becomes both rule and ritual.

And yoga amidst chaos, with restriction is a speedy recipe for destruction.

I’m pretty sure I need a new job. ASAP.

PS- Brains knows.


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