Paris: Did it really even happen?

Our trip to Paris seems like a lovely dream.  It was the best kind of lovely dream, because it really happened!

We were able to view places from perspectives from which we'd never imagined.

 atop la Tour Eiffel

 outside the bell tower of La Notre Dame

eye to eye with the bored gargoyle

 toward the setting sun from La Notre Dame

We soaked in history of many forms:  artistic, literary, national, international, and what will become our own.

 a lovely tart and coffee at Les Deux Magots, one of Ernest Hemingway's beloved cafes to frequent. (and we got the last table, which was a small victory for a tourist at such an important cafe!)

The best thing that happened to me in Paris is that it settled into my soul.  It will always be a part of me now.  It lives in my history and, I hope, again in my future. 

Paris: Je t'aime!

We arrived home from our trip to Paris on Friday afternoon.  Yes, that Friday.  Upon arrival, our phones blew up with concerned texts from friends and family.  Our newly beloved Paris was under attack as we headed home from her.  As a matter of fact, we had spent the previous day wandering the neighborhood near Bataclan, the concert venue of the attacks.  We'd gone to see an exhibit at a tiny gallery in the area.  Having just been there makes the attacks more closely felt and more heartbreaking to Rob and to me.

Our trip was simply blissful.  The hotel room was tiny and romantic and the building itself elegant.  There was barely room in it to do a decent yoga practice (but I worked it out); the view was a lovely flower-boxed building across the street from us, and we listened to French voices wafting through our balcony window as we drifted to sleep each night.  My French was adequate, which was exciting.  

According to my Fitbit, we logged between 20,00 and 33,000 steps a day to all the must-see sites, along with many neighborhoods were we found ourselves lost without caring.  The steps (and a solo early morning run along the Seine) offset the macarons (Laduree.....yum!), red wine, croissants at each breakfast, hot milk in my coffee, and simply-fresh-delicious french food at every meal. There might have been a Nutella crepe that happened too.  Not a pound gained during a week of less organized exercise and more foot intake.....that is reason to celebrate.  

All in all, this trip was what it was meant to be:  An adventure that was lovely, restful, and a great getaway for two marrieds with kids, etc.  More details later as we complete our re-entry....which takes awhile.....BUT, the kids survived (and missed us as much as we missed them: a lot); the house was clean; the laundry was done; the dog remembered us.  Not so shabby!

Good to be home!

Living in the Leap

 My mom used to use that phrase:  Live in the Leap.  It's good advice.  It means to live in the moment and to take some risks.  I like that it's "leap" instead of "jump."  Leap sounds joyful and sort of carefree.  So, I strive to live by these words.  When my two kids were very young, living in the leap maybe wasn't a good idea for me.  I played it safe.  I was practical.  I stressed - a lot - about sleep schedules, breastfeeding vs. bottle, choosing a daycare and then a preschool.....and a multitude of other things.  Always a "worrier," this way of life stuck to me like glue.  I kind of liked it.  I had my ducks in a row, and I had my lists in order.  All seemed well.

Or did it?  The kids kept growing, as they do, but I was still stressing.  By now, my mom's early onset dementia demanded that I move her to an assisted living community near me so that I could help care for her.  That gave me another whole level of stressing and list making.  I worried about spreading myself too thin.  About not having enough time for my mom, who was floundering with horrible anxiety related to the dementia.  I worried that I was dividing myself too thinly and that my kids were suffering.  I was looking for reasons to argue with my husband, who was dealing with his own personal issues at the time too.  This scenario went on for over six years.  Constantly.  There was no winning, and I was a ball of knots.  My family, friends, co-workers said how strong I was.  How good I was at juggling it all and how well I was taking care of my mom while being such a good mom myself.  I was a total fraud and a pretender.

The other part of my story is that once upon a time, before we moved and my younger child was born and before my mom got sick, I was a teacher and then a curriculum coordinator.  Sadly, I did not love my career.  It was ok, but I wanted to feel more passion in my work life.  I stopped working full time when my husband's job moved us and all the other stuff listed above happened.  I was more than ok with it, but I felt a definite absence of SELF and of PURPOSE.  I was told that raising my kids was a full time job and that should be enough by more than one person (shocking in this day and age, right?).

Then what do you think happened?  I got so close to the edge that I really thought I was going to lose it.  And it scared the hell out of me.  I knew I needed to make a drastic change in my life, because I wanted to be the mother that my children deserved, the wife my husband needed, and a person who I actually liked myself.  I searched for what could fix me.  I breathed, and I tried to learn how to sit still and to be still.

I went back to the mat, where I'd always dabbled, but this was different.  This time, it was for my mind instead of for balancing my runner's knee and leg ailments.  I started reading about Yoga, it's origins, it's transformations, it's power.  I have grown in my practice, but more than that, I've healed as a person.  I could almost cry just typing those words.

Finally, I'm in a good place.  My family life is happy.  I am able to enjoy my children.  My children have a mom who is calmer and happy.  My mom is in a new home where she is safe and kept more contentedly busy, so that my visit is a bonus rather than a near daily must.  I'm substitute teaching and teaching knitting...and I love it...the flexibility and the work itself.  I've let go of people who are not good for me.  I can even sit in stillness once in awhile.

I feel this incredible freedom to figure out WHAT IS NEXT for me.  So, after lots of thought and journalling and discussion with my ever-supportive (and much healed) husband, I think I've finally figured it out.  I begin YTT in January.  My plan is to train teachers to use yoga in the classroom to aid student learning, relieve student anxiety and stress, and to help lesson behavior problems.  I will also offer Yoga for Teachers, as I know firsthand how stressful their job is and how much a calmer teacher can positively influence our children.  My hope is that I can build a business around yoga and teaching.  I'm excited and nervous to talk about it for fear of jinxing myself.  Isn't that silly?  To honor my wonderful, loving, and wise mother as she used to be, I must "Live in the Leap" and make this venture REAL by saying it out loud.  

xxoo

 

The person who taught me to Live in the Leap