since i started working at a boutique spin and yoga studio in the spring, i've gotten back to spinning regularly and fallen in love with yoga. i hustle through spin and flow in yoga almost every day there. spinning pushes my physical endurance. i often yell obscenities as i add on more and more resistance while maintaining the same pace on the bike. it is hard. i'm normally sweaty five minutes into the forty-five minute ride and completely soaked by the end. it's aggressive, fast, unforgiving. breathlessness happens in spin... then i take yoga, which quiets my mind and centers my soul. i focus on my breath and flow in and out of poses with as much grace as my physical abilities allow. i've surprised myself by shedding tears during yoga more than once. yoga is hard in a different way. it cleanses my heart and reminds me of humility and my own strength. awareness of breath happens in yoga.
hustling and flowing has saved me from myself this past year. not only did working out give me something to do, it allowed my mind, body and soul to escape into a space that fosters a community based on love, encouragement and support. i'm not kidding. the studio i work at is full of beautiful, amazing women (and some good looking men, sure) who are there to either hustle and/or flow their way into leaner bodies and connect to their core... whether on a bike or a mat, i feel like i belong with them for the hour or so we spend together. some people are more experienced, more skilled, more graceful than the rest of us, which gives me something to work towards, to look forward to.
grace has never been my strong suit. while i can learn steps and execute choreographed routines, i was never a graceful dancer be it hula, tahitian, jazz, modern or (yikes!) ballet. to be fair, i didn't take dance classes until college and being graceful was the last thing i worried about as i tried to keep up. i love to dance but a dancer i am not. i like to pretend i am one though and twirl around in my apartment with my dancer roommate all the time like we're both ballerinas performing pieces set to 80s dance music. it's fun and we laugh breathlessly at our silliness. we're loud. yup. i laugh a lot and out loud. not exactly graceful but there's nothing better than a hearty laugh... or a good cry, which isn't socially graceful for some reason. there's no denying i'm a total klutz. i am constantly running into furniture, plants or whatever else jumps in front of me; i have scratches and bruises from these surprise attacks.
what i do try to be graceful about is the way i treat people, especially those i love. even when asked to be completely honest, i do so without being harsh whenever possible. i'm competitive but am neither a sore loser or a rub-it-in-your-face winner. losing sucks. winning is enough... it's been a year since beamer and i broke up now. we lived together for another three months after the fact. the morning i decided to move out followed one of the most ungraceful nights of my life. i will only say that i do not talk that way to people i love and knew it was time to go before i lost anymore of myself. graceful is how many of my friends describe how i handled our breakup. the fact that i didn't (and still don't) talk badly about him or announce our breakup on social media wasn't about being graceful, it was about treating what we once had with respect, compassion and gratitude.
every night before i go to sleep, i thank god, the universe or whoever is in charge for all the blessings, all the good things, all the lessons i encountered that day. most days, i readily come up with things to be thankful for: an especially challenging and, therefore, rewarding spin class, a yummy yoga flow, hearing from my mom, having lunch with a friend, kicking ass at an audition, unexpectedly getting a residual check, a two hour massage, blue skies, witnessing kindness between strangers, getting a voicemail from one of my nieces and/or nephews, getting a free carwash because it rained, the courage to say no to something i have no interest in doing... when i have a bad day, i give thanks for my loving family, my incredible friends, the fact that i have everything i need, not having to shave my legs, being happy, healthy and pretty... maybe it's cheesy or hippie or much too cosmic but it works.
giving gratitude for what you already have invites god, the universe or whoever is in charge to keep sending you people, experiences and seemingly random situations to be grateful for. even if it doesn't work that way, you've painlessly made yourself aware of how good you really have it... those sleepless nights when i first moved out were opportunities for me to really appreciate the people in my life. i named every family member and close friend in gratitude for being in my corner those first few months. i knew i wasn't alone as i faced the loneliness of sleeping solo for the first time in nearly a decade even as my heart seemingly stopped beating every now and then. i was incapable of seeing anything else to be grateful for at that point but acknowledging my gratitude helped my heart heal. it didn't just happen. i worked at it.
spontaneity is not something i'm good at. i like having a schedule and knowing what i need to get done and by when. it's the only way i can manage my time well... dating has been interesting because i don't play games. i don't respond to people i have no interest in meeting (unless they talk football; i always reply to those messages) and am happy to meet someone for coffee when they ask because compatibility percentages mean nothing if you don't hit it off in person. my online dating experience has been really positive. in fact, i recently disabled my profile because i've been seeing someone exclusively for several weeks now. this is where going with the flow comes in because i am beyond afraid of putting my heart out there again.
i don't even know where to start... we met online and exchanged messages for a few days before he asked to meet me in person. i agreed to dinner our first time out because our schedules did not allow for an afternoon date that week. he threw a bomb at me five minutes into our first date and has been fearlessly vulnerable and open with me since. i have, in turn, been as honest as i can be about my inability to do the same. due to personal circumstances on my end and his willingness to keep driving to my side of town, we've spent a lot of time together and have somehow stopped seeing other people. there's a sense of comfort between us. we laugh a lot... trust me. i tried to slow it down by refusing to admit i felt any of the things he said he was feeling and attempting to set up dates with other people that somehow never worked out. when i started introducing him to my friends, i knew i was in trouble. then i told my sisters about him. done... i'm finally more excited than scared about whatever it is we're doing (we're not defining it though he'll readily tell you it doesn't matter because it doesn't change anything for him), but i still find myself grasping for the safety of not going anywhere. of not falling.
every single one of my friends has told me to let go. to go with the flow. to enjoy the ride... so i am. it's not graceful (i've already freaked out on him more than once) but i am grateful. i didn't realize how unworthy i felt with beamer towards the end of our relationship but, no matter how you try to sugarcoat it, he chose not to marry me. his decision may not have anything to do with me as a person but it effected me deeply nonetheless... fraser makes me feel pretty and smart and worthy without an agenda. i feel like myself around him and not the scared, insecure, self-sabotaging version who comes out intent on protecting my heart. i get to be my normal fun-loving, always laughing, fearlessly badass, totally nerdy, happy self again. it's nice. he's sweet... i don't know what will happen a week, three days, four hours from now but going with the flow feels right in this moment.
so yeah. i'll just call him fraser, hustle and flow through breathlessness, grace and gratitude in spin and yoga, and call it a day.
Love. You.
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