Basket Case

--TW Mental Health, Depression, Suicide

This picture was taken in the immediate wake of Anthony Bourdain’s suicide. A friend of mine once told me that they could not comprehend how a person could kill themselves. Once I got over the shock that a person could be free of thoughts that have doggedly pursued me off and on for a big chunk of my adult life, I was left with feelings of jealousy.

Right now, while writing this, I feel the need to tell you that I am currently well cared for by both a therapist and psychiatrist. That I am not in crisis. That I am “okay”—whatever that means these days. What I want to do here is just talk about it—without soliciting advice, without anyone feeling the need to give me a pep talk, without someone telling me how to feel about my mental illness. I know that might be impossible, but I am asking you to try.

When I was in high school, I vividly remember feeling as if a giant neon orange arrow floated above my head at all times. THIS GIRL IS DIFFERENT it read. SHE IS WEIRD AND LOUD. SHE IS TOO MUCH. SHE IS A PILL. Sometimes, it felt like I was a special creature, a unicorn, a magical anomaly. Most times though, it felt as if I were actually from another planet and was constantly struggling against the social expectations of catholic education and the wild wild west of high school social dynamics. It was a lot.

As an adult, I have felt this way often but just like anything, the newness fades and the buzz just continues in the background. It took a long time and a lot of therapy to get a diagnosis and a treatment plan for my bipolar II. Often times, it felt like hacking through a forest daily until I came to a clearing. The clearings were a relief but the journey pushed on until I was once again laboring through the jungle of my brain with a sweat-drenched brow.

I once read that during the times of knights and the feudal system, some serfs would often be in possession of multiple flags, changing them as the countries claimed different territories in victory and others lost territory in defeat. That is what it felt like before I was diagnosed with bipolar II. The flags of anxiety and depression and—less frequently—mania would go up and down the flag pole. As is common with bipolar II, it was mostly depression.

There is the stigma surrounding mental illness like a moat filled with alligators. Listen to someone describe a “crazy ex-girlfriend” or even the often erratic behavior of Kanye West—who, by the way, is also a giant asshole and while his behavior can be informed by his bipolar diagnosis, it cannot be blamed entirely—and you’ll catch the dismissal of someone who is acting in extremes as “wow that chick is so bipolar.” It doesn’t bother me all that much but it does give me pause when I consider sharing this part of my identity.

Bipolar is also a federally recognized disability. I had to confront my own ableist prejudices. I had to think about how I moved with what is considered an invisible disability. I had to consider whether or not I claimed my diagnosis when applying for jobs. I had to think about why my diagnosis was considered a disability and carefully examine the places where I was bullying myself for being lazy—a common thought for me especially when in a deep pit of depression. I also had to mourn my mania.

God. I loved my mania. I was productive, I felt more attractive and charming. Even though my bouts of mania were short-lived—a hallmark of the “II” in bipolar II—they were what made the depression a little more bearable, a price I paid for the glory of a manic episode. The problem with that is the higher the mountain top, the deeper the valley. Since my diagnosis in April 2018, I have been flattening the curve since before it was cool.

Now, I am properly medicated. This means the distance between the peaks and valleys are more curvy road in the country than a sky-high roller coaster. It means that my moods are managed better. It does not mean that I am consistently blissful or in despair. What it does mean is that the dips and jumps are less severe and that I now have the skills set and brain chemistry to handle or at the very least ride them out.

This is all to say that therapy is good. Meds are good. If you are struggling, I see you. You deserve to be helped. You are not less because you have a mental illness. Meds are not a failure. I am out here in the forest, still hacking my way through. I have walked the path with rocks in my shoes and know now that I do not have to.

Hello, Walls.

We and our partners use cookies to personalize your experience, to show you ads based on your interests, and for measurement and analytics purposes. By using our website and our services, you agree to our use of cookies as described in our Cookie Policy.

Are you beginning to forget what things were like before now? Because I most certainly am. I have been thinking a lot about how much more intimately I understand life during things like WWI—this is partly due to my decision to finally watch Downton Abbey—WWII, The Great Depression, and other important historical events. There will absolutely be a before Coronavirus and after. Maybe this is like giving birth. Everything is weird and painful and in transition. There is you before motherhood and you after but in the middle? Shit is fucked all the way up. Trust me. I speak from experience.

So, in the meantime, why not just jump off a ledge and barf out things on this here blog? I have spent a lot of time wanting to write about a lot of things. I have spent even more time telling myself that not one single person wants to read my writing or my thoughts. But now? Nothing matters! Why not? So welcome to my little corner of Al Gore’s internet.

I have some ideas of what I might post here but know that I easily get way inside my own head and start to believe my own bullshit. This means that I am extremely open to ideas and special requests. So, let me know what you would like to hear! Embarrassing stories? Book reviews and suggestions? Recipes that I make and love? Parenting? Yoga? Whatever.

And thanks to everyone who called me out and insisted that I stop picking around and just do this. It doesn’t have to be perfect and I can guarantee that it absolutely won’t be.

YTT.

Two weeks ago, I was finishing my last weekend of YTT, or yoga teacher training. I started my YTT journey back in October 2016 and have been practicing hard both on and off the mat to earn my 200 hour certificate, which allows me to teach yoga classes. It has taken every single minute of the past 2 weeks for me to recover from the intense physical, mental, and spiritual journey that was my YTT experience. It has taken rest, chiropractic care, and reflection but I think I am finally ready to write about it.

If you had told me 10 years ago that I would be a yogi, I would have laughed in your face. Actually, there are still moments where I think to myself, in complete shock, that I am not only a yogi, but a certified yoga teacher! But, if, like me, you read the yoga sutras, and if, like me, you walk the path of yoga in your life, none of this is surprising. In fact, yoga is probably the most obvious place for me.

Nearly 7 years ago, while struggling (oh, struggling mightily) to have a baby, I came to yoga. I would come to class and sweat, curse, cry on my mat. I would struggle and groan and leave class feeling better than I had ever felt in my life. That is still often the case. I get to my mat, I sweat, I curse, I moan and groan, and yes, sometimes, I cry. My mat is sanctuary. It is a place where I can be quiet, still. I can be annoyed, frustrated, blissful, happy, content. Yoga is, ultimately, the art of creating space in oneself. It is creating space.

As with most people, my initial understanding of yoga was the poses. Then, the breath. But those things are only 2 of the eight limbs of yoga. YTT and my teachers and my sisters in training were part of the process of helping me understand the other important parts of yoga. All 8 limbs combined, are now the guiding lights on my path.

For me, the biggest lessons were that everything is okay. Really. You are okay. All of the parts of you are okay. Bliss is big enough to hold all your good and all your bad. In fact, we should greet the good and bad in our lives with equal love, respect, and enthusiasm. You cannot have light without the darkness. Without the winter, there is no summer. Everything is okay. It is also impermanent. Am I freaking you out yet?

My goal as I move forward post training is to return to my mat and let it be. I hope to continuing the process of softening to the yin/feminine energy inside of myself and to continue to tune into universe in hopes of moving my entire life towards balance.

Yoga transformed my life. YTT took me even further down the path. My hope is that I can continue to learn and grow and share yoga with more people. And, while I will miss my teachers and sisters, I know that no matter where we go, they will always have a place in my heart.

PS Don't get it twisted. I am still a loud, enthusiastic mess. Namaste!

Thanks, Poppi!

There is a great country song about step fathers called "He Didn't Have To Be." It is about the choice to step into a family and join it. My dad and Zachary's Poppi made that choice a long time ago and I am so grateful for him.

Today is his birthday and we are going to celebrate by cutting down a Christmas tree and tomorrow, we'll decorate it by a fire and have cake. This is because he and my mom moved here to be with us and it is the greatest gift he could have given us. Z adores you and it is such a blessing to watch your bond grow.

Thank you for all your hard work to support us and help raise us into the people we have become, Dad. We are so glad you chose to be a part of our family!

Happy Birthday!

Thanks Kodi!

You know those conversations you have where you throw out crazy ideas? Like, we should go to the World Cup together! We should write a book! Make croissants from scratch! Get married! It is pie in the sky. You genuinely want to do these things but haven't really thought about them in the concrete. It is fun to have these conversations. 

But what happens when both you and the other person are totally serious? Well, in my case, you start a podcast and have a blast and learn so much about yourself, the other person, life and how to make a podcast! 

I am deeply grateful for Kodi Seaton. I bow to the universe with great respect for the life Kodi has lived and the person he has become. The universe knew what she was doing when she brought us together and maybe the magic did not happen right away, but she knew our souls belonged together and that we would build something together.

This is absolutely not hyperbole. The hour or so we spend recording our podcast is the highlight of my week. We usually arrive to our scheduled time exhausted and worn out but not even seconds into it, we have perked up and blossomed. It is a gift we give each other. The time we spend talking educates me and helps me feel comfortable in my own skin. Kodi offers me acceptance and love. He is smart and funny and makes me want to rise to his level in every sense.

I would never have embarked on this podcast journey without him. His knowledge and talent are the foundation for how it even gets done each week. His friendship is what keeps it going.

Thank you, Kodi. I love you!

Thanks, Therapy!

This morning, I saw my therapist, Nina. I love therapy. I get to talk for a full hour and just let it fly. The words escape and fly away, it is like emotional vomit. I feel so much better afterwards.

My issues range from ADHD to anxiety and depression and simply surviving in a world that can be cruel and cold and fucking terrible. My therapist is wonderful. She is smart and funny and kind. She laughs at my jokes and best of all, tells me that I am not weird or crazy. That I am perfect exactly how I am in this moment and I believe her.

The past two weeks have been intense and this makes me especially grateful for my therapist. I am very public about my mental health and my use of medicine and therapy to get through life. I do this because I want to take away the stigma of struggling with your own thoughts and feelings. I hope that you know that depression is a liar and that if you need help, you absolutely deserve it and deserve to get through the darkness. You are loved and worthy no matter what your brain chemistry is telling you. There is no shame in reaching out for help. 

I love therapy. 

Thanks, Quiet.

I feel blank today. I am finally home from Miami. Ron is back from traveling to Chicago on business and then to Miami with me. It is quiet in my house. I feel blank and sad.

I remember a Thanksgiving a while ago, Ron and I hosted over 20 people. It was loud and insane and wonderful. There were children running around our house and drinking over board games but when the last person closed our front door, and the quiet set in, we sat on the couch and starred at the wall in silence. It was the loudest silence I have every heard. I think I felt it in my cells.

That is how I feel today after being spit out of the emotional tornado that is grieving with my large, loud and beautiful family. The stillness is unsettling.

Yoga has helped me find peace and comfort in places like this. It has taken a lot of work. Funerals are important but, for me, they are a balm on the soul that stops the real feelings. Yoga helps me be okay and not judge the real feelings. I am going to sit in the quiet and allow myself to marinate in what I am feeling without judgement. I am going to release the things I no longer need.

Today, I am grateful for the quiet but I am also grateful for the loudness that lifts me up and balances the quiet. Without the noise of life, there would be no quiet.

Thanks, Grief.

I apologize for the radio silence these past few days. At least, I think it has only been a few days. To be honest, I have no idea what day it is or how many days have past since I got to Miami. Grief has a strange way of making time expand and contract. Throw in the chaos of a large group of people, plus alcohol and here we are.

These past few days have been hard. It is hard to say goodbye to someone you love. It is hard to go through the rituals of burial. It is hard to go back to places you used to go as a child. It is hard to watch people you love, who are usually the strong and stoic ones, cry openly. 

I don't know yet all the lessons this past week have taught me. It is going to take some time to unpack it all. I do know that I am part of an insane and magical tribe of people. These people who are warm and welcoming to others, who are generous and wild. I also know that loving somebody with all your guts is scary and hard but so worth it. Even losing my uncle, I know that I loved him and he loved me. That is such a beautiful gift. It is worth the heartbreak of losing that person. 

My aunt Jenny's eulogy was my favorite. She talked about how rough this year has been and how, at times, she struggled to find her faith. But just when it felt like she had been abandoned, she saw God's love being sent to her through the people who loved her brother. This speaks to me so much.

Even with losing my uncle, the election results and whatever other garbage this dumpster fire of a year throws at us, I know that I have still seen god's love for me in places. One of my grade school teachers, Mrs. Hull, used to say "Two men looked out from behind prison bars, one saw mud, the other saw stars."

I am gonna keep my head up, deal with the mud but look at the stars.

Thank you to all of you who have been so loving and supportive of our family during this time. We deeply appreciate it.

Thanks, Music!

My uncle Mike loved music. I can think of many occasions when he would shush you and insist you listen to a specific song. He'd close his eyes and sway and say, "isn't this the best?!"

So, when it came to my contribution to the funeral, I compiled some of the songs we know Mike loved and others that remind us of him.

This morning, while I packed our bags, I listened and cried. Music is a comfort and will help his memory live with us forever.

Thanks, Family!

My uncle died on Monday night. 

My mother is the oldest of seven. This is the first of her siblings to die. 

It has been very difficult for me. For them. For us as a family.

I am related to a bunch of assholes. They would not disagree with this. In fact, I think we are collectively pretty proud of our status as assholes. We are rowdy and loud and know how to throw a party at any given moment. We are opinionated and stubborn and can be big bullies.

Growing up in a large family with a large profile and big personalities was not always easy. Having so many people with so many opinions can be a challenge. There are always too many chefs and not enough indians.

But when the chips are down, these people are my foundation. They are who I am. They are in my cells.

How lucky we all are to love and be loved so fiercely. 

We are so lucky to have loved and be loved by you, Mike.

I am lucky this group of assholes belong to me and I belong to them.

See you all tomorrow. Make sure the beer is cold.

Thanks, Hillary!

When I was in college, I read this book for a course called Women in Politics. When I worked for Hillary in 2008, she signed it for me. Today, this dream could actually come true. Thank you, Hillary Clinton. Thank you for all of it.

Thanks, Twitter!

This is Parva. No, that is not her real name it is her twitter handle but that is what I call her. Yes, even to her face in real life. I met Parv on the internet! 

Do you remember being a kid and being told that strangers on the internet were dangerous? And, yes, there are some strangers on the internet that are totally dangerous, but in my experience, the strangers on the internet, at least on twitter and especially from the early days of twitter, are gold.

If I try to explain twitter to someone who has no idea what it is, I sound crazy. this was even more true in the early days of twitter before regular people and brands learned about our awesome snarky secret club and came and ruined it. 

I will now list the things that twitter has done for me. I know that this list is going to sound insane to those of you who don't use twitter, but all of these statements are true.

1. Twitter has saved my life on more than one occasion. I am an extrovert who lives in the middle of nowhere and being a stay at home mom for the first three years of Z's life nearly killed me. Twitter was my emotional outlet. I met other mothers on twitter who had children all around the same time I had Z. In the early days, we cheered each other on through the day. Yay! You made it through another Tuesday! You go, girl. Then, we discussed first foods, potty training and teething. Our children are now 5 or so, but we stay in touch. Those women saved me. If you are one of them, you know it. I love you all like sisters. I love watching your kids grow. You saved me.
2. Twitter makes me smarter and funnier. One of my favorite things about twitter is the snarky, quick comments. I love that it feels like a competition to get the bigger laugh. Twitter has lightened the darkness of life and news in so many ways.
3. I got my job through twitter. Believe it or not, my boss suffered through my tweeting for years and now she pays me to write tweets and Facebook posts. She knew all about my love of brown liquor and potty mouth for years before she hired me. I have met her in real life only three times. 
4. I met Kodi on twitter. My podcast buddy, Kodi, and I have only met in real life twice. This might sound insane to anyone who listens to our podcast, THE SWIRL, since we get on like old buddies, which we are. But 98% of our friendship occurred on twitter.
5. My twitter family often knows more about what is going on in my life than my real family. When my husband wants to know what I have been up to, he reads my tweets. My best friend (who was also my maid of honor) reads my tweets to stay up to date on my life. My mother does that, too. My mother lives on my block. My tweets are my life in real time. It is how I feel at any given moment. It is my life in 140 characters.
6. I refuse to list the friendships I have made on twitter because there are too many and you all mean so much to me. 

Except, special shoutout to Parv. First, because she is pictured above and second because if we had met in real life first, there is exactly zero chance that we would be friends. I would have terrified her. In fact, I totally did terrify her the first time we met, but we already were friends, so she was stuck with me. But, because of twitter, we are friends. We don't get to see each other as often as I would like, but I adore her and know that when I need her, she is there for me. She knows that about me, too. I love you, girl!

Thanks, twitter!

Thanks, Mom. No, really. Thank you.

I love my mom. I know she is cringing at the thought of this overly sappy and public show of affection, but I do not care.

My mom is the strongest person I know. I would never ever bet against her. She is tough. She does not have time for your shit. She has no time for nonsense. She is fierce. She is a warrior. When I think about all the shit life has thrown at her and all the people she has cared for and protected and carried, I am blown away by it. She is so so strong.

She is also my best friend. Your mother knows and understands you in ways that no one else does. The same way that I know and understand her in ways that no one else does. We are deeply connected. She listens to my bullshit without judgement. She never ever tells me that I am talking to much. It was not always this way, because adolescence is a bitch. But I am so grateful that this is where we are.

Most people would not even entertain having their mother live on their street as adults but everyday, I am so grateful that she is so close. I am so grateful for the special connection she shares with Zachary. He adores her. 

I do not know what I would do without my mother. I honestly don't. 

Mom, I am so thankful for you and all you have done for me. Thank you for everything. Thank you for being my best friend and for being a wonderful example of womanhood and motherhood and personhood. 

I love you.

Thanks, Human Breathing!

This morning, I practiced at my home studio for the first time in a month. This picture was taken in my home immediately afterward by Z.

There is so much to say about my yoga roots, my home and my yoga family at Human Breathing that I get overwhelmed with emotion and can barely think straight. My yoga practice is a gift that I give myself and my family but I would not be the yogi or human that I am without Ron Coughenour and Human Breathing.

I came to yoga in the depths of struggling to conceive a baby. I was depressed, hormonal, overweight and often times felt completely hopeless. I had tried everything from western medicine to acupuncture to green to dairy free to whole fat dairy. I was exhausted.

I had decided to go to the closest studio and find relief, but I had read the times wrong and class was already in progress when I got to the studio. I peaked in the window and ran. The next day, at the local farm market, I saw a dude wearing a shirt from the studio. I told him I was thinking about starting yoga there. He offered me a hug and then told me that I should come to class that very night. I felt like I should. So, I did.

That dude turned out to be the owner of the studio and my big brother, Ron. That day was over 6 years and several yoga mats ago. Yoga was instantly powerful to me. I spent a lot of time at the beginning crying through my practice and sweating like I never knew a person could sweat. It was awful and wonderful and I could not stop.

I was so bad at yoga. In fact, I am still so bad at yoga. But that is the secret. We are all bad at yoga. The point is to allow yourself to be bad at it. To sit with it. To not judge it.

I have practiced yoga in dozens of other studios and while I enjoy it, I know that my home is Human Breathing. At our studio, we are real, we are zany and we love each other fiercely. The women and men who practice there are blazing torches of light. They are strong and wise and lift me up in ways that I cannot even fathom.

It is the intention of Ron that has created more than a yoga studio. He has created a family. I am deeply grateful to my yoga practice for all the wonderful blessings it manifests in my life, including the sisters I have met in YTT. And I bow with deep gratitude to my original teacher, Ron, and the community at Human Breathing. Thank you for loving me even when I feel unlovable, thank you for supporting me and thank you for being part of my home. 

I hope I will be back to practice with you all again soon! Namaste!

Thanks, Tiffany!

There is no question that dating and finding a partner is hard but something that I think is equally hard is finding a best friend after you have gotten married and/or graduated college. In college and high school, you have seemingly endless amounts of hours to chat on the phone and learn every detail of you friend's lives. You spend every waking hour together. It is amazing and easy to learn about another person that way.

As an adult, however, it often times feels impossible. There is the meeting part, the flirtation part, the first friend date, it is all so awkward. Then, on top of that, you have a busy life all by yourself. They, too, have their own life. There never feels like enough time.

That is why I am beyond grateful to have found and kept Tiffany around and become so close to her. I love her. She is my best friend. She is my family.

We are so different in many ways but our mutual disgust of bullshit and deep love of eating and drinking binds us to each other. I trust her with my secrets, my fears, my judgments and my kid. She has been there for me when I have needed her, when I have been a huge cranky bitch and she still loves me and wants to hang out with me. I never worry that I will do or say anything so weird that she will freak out. Everybody should have a friend like her.

I am thankful to the universe for sending Tiffany to me and to Tiffany for all of the big and little ways that she loves and supports me. I only hope that I am half the friend you are to me!

Thanks, Georgia!

If you are one of the many people who comment on my selfies about my astoundingly good eyebrows, Georgia is the wonderful person responsible for them! So, today I am grateful for Georgia but not just because of the amazing eyebrow work.

Like many people, I went through a huge part of my life thinking I was unattractive. I disliked my face and wished I looked different. But once I started to visit Georgia for brow tinting and waxing and peels, I really started to adore my face. This has a lot to do with her talent and artistic abilities, of course. But more importantly, Georgia has a good heart that wants to bring out the best in all of her clients. She loves all of us like friends. She takes the time to know our lives and who we are as people. She loves each of us and appreciates each of us. This makes it natural for her to take the most gorgeous pieces of ourselves and magnify them.

There have been many times when I was battling something internally, feeling crumby or just in a funk about myself and life when I have found myself in Georgia's care. I never leave her feeling at least 90% better about myself, about life. I almost always feel like a shiny new penny.

Even cooler? Georgia is brave and strong and motivated. She inspires me to be better and give it my all to others. 

I know it sounds crazy to be this attached to my eyebrow girl but shit, y'all, look at these eyebrows! They are amazing! 

And so is Georgia!

Thanks, Snapchat!

What? You thought these were all gonna be meaningful and deep? PFFT! You obviously don't know me.

Today, I am grateful for dumb things on the internet but specifically, snapchat. On days when I am in a funk and not wearing make up or feeling butt ugly, I can open snapchat, pop on a filter and goof around. It is a small joy that can sometimes turn the day around.

I also get to stay in touch with people on it and even learned one of my internet friends got engaged on snapchat!

So, today, I am grateful for snapchat. Follow me on it: rubyjnkie.

November Gratitude Challenge.

I don't know if you noticed how quiet it has been here on the blog but a combination of busyness, writer's block and exhaustion have kept me from posting here as often as I had initially intended. No matter. We should embrace the season in which we currently find ourselves in life and not fight it. Witness without judgement. Right, yogis?

This morning brought the beginning of a new month and with it, a month of that asks us to reflect on our blessings and struggles and to be thankful for them. One of my YTT teachers, Usha is blogging each day about something she is grateful for and it inspired me so much that here I am attempting it for myself.

The way I look at it, if I cannot take up the practice of gratitude while immersed in yoga teach training, I may not ever find the space in my life to do it. So, I hope you will join me as I attempt blog daily this month, each day focusing on something I am grateful for.

Today, I look to the brightest sun in my sky, Zachary. I did not know how strong I was until I became your mother, Z. You are a miracle that we prayed and struggled and worked and cried for. There are so many moments that have made me fall deeper in love with you as you grow into the person you have always been. 

You are funny, clever and charming. You love to play and laugh and joke. You also have a good heart. You feel strongly about what is right and what is wrong. You are kind to others.

You are passionate, opinionated and strong. You drive me bananas. 

I am deeply grateful that the universe decided to give you to us and even more grateful for the chance to love you each and every day.

Work Work Work.

Yesterday was gorgeous, so, I worked outside on my deck. I made a quick lunch and took this picture. Then, people had questions.

First, am I still doing #whole30? Yes. mostly. Today is day 52. I have had one glass of wine since I finished the official 30 days. I am allowing myself whole milk lattes as treats and have had a few plates of white rice, too. But, mostly, I am trying to eat this way as long as possible and since I honestly don't miss anything enough to eat it yet, I am still following the rules for the most part!

It turns out that I have not properly updated people on what I am doing these days. Don't feel left out, my best friend, Tiffany, found out about my new job while listening to me talk about it on my podcast!

So, what the hell am I up to these days?

Well, first, I am working on my 200 hour yoga teaching certificate. This means I have to practice at my new-to-me studio at least twice a week. I am trying to go three times a week when I can so that if there is a week I have to miss, I will have some classes in the bank. This process also includes weekend-long intensives. One to two times per month plus a bunch of reading. Now, if I am being honest, not a lot of that work has started on my end. I need to get on that.

Second, in September, I started working for a twitter friend's social media consulting firm. I met Tammy through twitter and responded to her one day when she was lamenting all the work she had to get done. It turns out, offering to help someone do cool shit can sometimes get you in the door! Now, I do research, write and brainstorm creative plans for the many clients at her firm, Verified Strategy. My umbrella currently covers a restaurant group in DC, a travel company and some nifty non-profits. It is fun, I am learning a lot and I get to combine my love for social media with causes and companies I believe in. Not bad, eh?

I am still working hard with Kodi on our podcast, the Swirl. Plus, the normal routine of adult and parenting responsibilities get crammed into the everyday hustle. 

This are really good here. I spent the summer wondering where I would land after leaving the restaurant in March. Sometimes, it pays of to leap and the net will appear.

What you are you up to? I am serious! Tell me!

Beginnings.

Over the weekend, I began yoga teacher training or YTT. Part of our program is journaling throughout the process and since I am always looking for things to write here, I will be posting my thoughts on the given topics as we move through the 6 months of study!

So, how am I feeling? OVERWHELMED. I don't mean this in a completely negative way, though. I just feel as if I have been dropped into the ocean, far from shore and have to swim back. It is daunting, thrilling and exhausting. I have so much to read, write and do between now and April. It sounds silly because, duh, I have a lot of time to do all these things between now and April, too. But, man. It is overwhelming the amount of work I will be doing in order to become the best teacher possible.

It is also overwhelming to actually teach a pose. I have spent 6 years on my mat, speaking yoga through my body. Now, to stand in front of people and to direct them to a pose, to breathe and to use actual words and not just my body? It feels like learning Arabic. I know that it will get easier over time but the knots in your stomach those first few times are overwhelming. I did not think this would be easy but it is much more difficult than I ever thought it would be.

This process is taking a commitment. I am going to have to work hard and push through things. I am going to have to give myself the space to study and read and write and practice. That is a big deal.

One thing I do have in my favor is that there are 8 other souls lifting me up and attempting to move themselves forward. They are all lovely people who I know I am going to lean on and lift up over the course of these months. I love them and believe the universe brought them to me for this exact purpose. They are going to teach me so much.

So, just like anything, I have to just keep putting one foot in front of the other. I know this is going to be hard, but it is going to be worth it.