Pied Piper
I just took the hardest yoga class of my life. Part of me feels speechless because it’s difficult to come up with the words to describe my experience…to paint a picture that would take the reader into my world on my mat in that moment. Let me start by saying this; tonight I trekked along an arduous new path and found myself surprised by the results. My personal work was not to master one of the dozen or so different arm balances taught in class, but to force myself not to leave the room and waltz up to the front desk demanding a refund.
Free Time
I ran into a fellow teacher on the streets of New York a few weeks ago (I just love that about New York) and, as serendipitous meetings go, she walked into my day at exactly the right moment. Knee-deep in my own melodrama, I was desperately trying to dig myself out of that black hole of negativity. When it comes to our baggage, it’s hard to let go. Even if our negative narrative creates suffering, there’s a strange satisfaction in just letting the whole thing snowball into a self-fulfilling prophecy. Somewhere deep inside we know there’s a switch we can flip, but we can’t help ourselves. On some level, the pain of our drama is more pleasurable than our desire to move beyond it.