There are many ways to look at what appears to be gifts. This time of year I’m reminded of what should happen. Christmas means gifts and other stuff but mostly about what I am going to give everyone. I’m always worried about the right gift for each person and try to choose what I think is a good fit. I’m also always worried about whether they will like what I have chosen.
What happens is I usually see something during the year in my travels that seems like something that is just perfect for that particular person and buy it to have it for Christmas. But I’m the kind of person who can’t wait to give it to them so usually I don’t wait until the holidays. Then the holiday rolls around and I’m back to square one. Continue reading
Home is where the heart is. That’s what keeps going through my mind as I reacclimate myself to being back in Los Angeles. I know physically where I am right now is my home. It’s where my mail is sent. It’s where I spend most of my time when I am not traveling. It’s where my family lives. It’s where most of my belongings are. So it should be home figuratively, emotionally and spiritually.
But somehow after having spent one month in Bali and living my life on my terms it seems that where ever I am at the moment seems like home. I practiced yoga everyday with some of the most amazing teachers who taught me, even after all these years of practicing, that there was still so much to learn. About the poses and about myself. There were times when I would be in a position and out of nowhere become so emotional that I started crying and couldn’t stop. Embarrassing and enlightening. Yin yoga was by far my favorite and I felt the most at home when I was holding those poses for five minutes at a time. It doesn’t seem like a long time until you realize that the pain is a lot deeper than you thought. In so many ways.
I realized that in order for me to be able to be fully present with everyone and everything around me I needed to be at home with myself. To rid myself of feeling guilty for not living my life on my terms. It can be very difficult for me as I have always tried to be there. And I am finding that I am losing part of myself in doing so out of guilt. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I want to feel comfortable in a home that I am not use to living in. I’m doing the best I can right now. But I know if I’m not at home with myself I won’t be able to make others feel at home. And home IS where the heart is.
That sounds like such a strong, definitive word. Like the sky may fall. Like if I don’t make the deadline I didn’t win. I trained to finish the marathon and was really determined. Wasn’t sure what happened. Like I’m swimming upstream against everyone else. Ah, but wait! Felt pressure to perform and to live up to expectations even though I knew I was going to do it. I was allowing all of the outside pressure force me into doubting what was on the inside. Because I knew I could do it. I didn’t have any doubt. Because I have spent my whole life being a finisher. Not because I felt I needed to but because I didn’t want to disappoint every one else who was counting on me.
But this is different. It doesn’t matter in what direction I’m swimming. That’s what makes life interesting. This feels like I did it completely for me. I felt the pressure because I didn’t want to let myself down. I’ve spent my whole life waiting to finally take the time to do it for me. I’m tired but in a different way than working sixteen hours. I’m tired in my body and definitely in my head. It’s not like the marathon tired. It’s like a content tired. That when it was too hard to think about what needed to be done the cheerleader in me came out and pushed me to do more. Not for someone else but for me.
I feel like I’ve done a tremendous amount of physical labor and then gone into a steam room and completely relaxed. All of the tension, stress and angst has left my body if only for a short period of time. I’ll take whatever I can get. Because I made the deadline I promised myself I would make and it feels pretty damn good.