Sunday, March 27, 2022

GOOD LUCK IN BAD LUCK. AGAIN.

While I’m not going to get into the why and the how, I will tell you that I’m solo again. Once more, it’s just me. I am single. 

It didn’t happen yesterday; I’ve been working with this for months now, so I’m not morose or scared. I’m just one, plodding forward. It’s not my first rodeo in a space like this. This time is different though, as I’ve known from the start that I’m strong. I didn’t have to live though this experience to discover that I’m made of tough stuff. 

Jason and I were together for about four and a half years. We lived together for two of them. At the end there was heartbreak. Heartbreak didn’t end me before; it won’t kill me now. That’s a thing that experience has taught me. (That makes me sound old, which, well, I am.)

So let’s take stock on the learning front—

I’ve said for years that going through my divorce taught me that I am awesome and going through losing Jim taught me that other people are awesome. What did this recent significant breakup teach me? Or rather, what am I choosing to learn here? 

Well, I don’t have anything on that. I don’t yet know what my takeaways are. 

However, here’s what I’m up to otherwise:

• I got a puppy. She’s nine months old now. She’s a scruffy Cairn terrier. (Not pronounced “Karen.” Instead, it’s pronounced how it’s spelled.) Her name is Birdie, and she’s sturdy and spicy. She is me. 

• I teach a lot of yoga. Duh. Public classes and private sessions. All of it at Yoga Pod. I love it. I love Yoga Pod. I adore my students. I love teaching. It’s pretty pedestrian to so love your job as a yoga teacher, but I so love my job as a yoga teacher. All of the public classes are heated except for one each week that is a myofacscial release class. In that class we accomplish self massage by rolling around on balls. We make lots of jokes about rolling around on balls and releasing one’s self. 

• I am in training to be a benefit auctioneer. You read that right.

• I’m doing French lessons again. It could be going better than it is. Like, if I did my homework, I’d be verging on crushing it. 

• I’m baking lots. I am eating what I bake. I am subsequently hating myself for eating what I baked. Status quo there. 

• Also: I hike. I do pilates. I am suddenly into whole body cryotherapy. I indoor rock climb. I walk Birdie less often than I ought to.

Aha! So here’s the lesson, the what-I’ve-learned from this recent breakup: no matter who I’m with or not with, I am still me. I learn things. I love things. I keep doing what I love. I learn about new new stuff to love. I add to me. Me is consistent. And thing of all things: I really like me. I think of my many flaws as “areas of opportunity.” I think of my brain as a tool to use, my body as an instrument for pleasure and presence, and I make my life about gathering—gathering experiences and the best people, which I do very successfully. 

So you could say that after another bout of misfortune I relearned what I already knew: guys, I’m lucky.  

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