February 3, 2011 § Leave a comment
If I were to believe the tales that were recounted by my family of what I was like as a kid, then these two words would pretty much dominate any description.
I cried when I woke up one Sunday to an empty house – my parents had gone grocery-shopping – calling my grandmother in distress. I cried another time when we were living in Brunei, again waking up to an empty house, this time in a foreign country. When the time came for me to go to school, I cried, without fail, every single day that I was dropped off at the daycare center. When that care-giving arrangement changed to drop me off at my grandmother’s house, I cried too, bawling my eyes out first thing in the morning. My youngest aunt who was living with my grandmother at that time jokes that I was her alarm clock for that year. My morning antics were so well-known that the neighbors we encountered in the elevator would look at me and go ‘Oh! So you’re the cry baby that I hear every day from my 6th/8th/12th floor apartment!’
Talk about a reputation.
Why am I telling you all this? Because between yesterday and today, I feel as if I’m back in cry baby mode again. Today’s practice had a weepy Paschimottanasana and a very weepy Padmasana and Savasana. And I still feel as if I’m two breaths away from tears. My rational mind is trying to make sense of all this, trying to find a reason why I’m so weepy: “Is this PMS? Maybe its the release from yesterday’s chiropractic adjustment. Is it a result of all the deep backbending I’ve been doing?” And so on.
And it well may be any and all of these reasons, or none at all. Does it really matter why I’m crying? I suspect not.
I’m learning how to ‘sit with it’, breathe and let it all hang out for as long as it takes. Then blow my nose, wipe my eyes, and get on with my day. Until the next one.