Friday, July 17, 2009

More than okay.

I've tried it all.  I've tried yoga, gentle yoga, meditation, doing meditation gently, yoga with an incredible ninety year old teacher who kicked my but and exclaimed, "c'mon get up and try again!"  I've gotten on ship after ship sailing the seas, trying to clear out the daily crap that clogs my mind.   Somehow I always end up ship wrecked.  There are a new wave of Buddhist teachers (Adyashanti) who discuss meditation in a way that give you permission to have constant diversions in your thought process.  The idea is that when you are too focused on being focused, you lose all focus.  So is underachievement the key to inner peace?  Obviously, I am being sarcastic.
I have exercised my body, exorcised my inner demons, carried myself to and from the mall in search of the perfect bathing suit.  There have been days where I have turned a new leaf, eating only quinoa and goji berries for days until I finally needed a steak.  I guess as I mature and start to take myself a little less seriously, I am beginning to be okay with the everyday crap that I put myself through.  My endless thoughts of this and that, of redecorating and yet managing to save for an incredible getaway to Egypt simultaneously (I've always wanted to ride a camel.)  Still, most beings don't have the luxury of saying, "I want to see the pyramids before I die!"  Gratitude is essential, if there is one thing I have learned it is that.  I'm grateful for friends, for family, for being able to move and twist and turn even if I stink at yoga.  I may never be a meditative guru but I'm starting to appreciate and almost like that about myself.  Sometimes, being the student is more fun.  It allows for mess ups, for re do's and for mistakes.  
I've made a lot of rash decisions, gone on impulse and even decided to paint my walls at 2 am; yet I don't think I'd change a thing.  The ninety year old yoga teacher (god bless her) is amazing, a true phenomenon and if I make it to ninety I will probably have an even greater appreciation for her ability that I currently lack at twenty nine years old.  If I'm ever ninety, reading my book, in a good old rocking chair, thinking back fondly on the days when I could actually drive to the mall, I'd probably smile to my silly self still, and that would be more than okay.  

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