Admittedly, I disappeared in the middle of my 30-day yoga extravaganza, and for that I apologize.
But hear me out.
Turns out, it was necessary to drop off the face of the the blogosphere in order to properly complete my sadhana and my yoga teacher training while maintaining some sense of calm and collectedness. It was right around Day 20, in fact, that it dawned on me that there are times in your life when you have to decide what you need and what you can let go of in order to get what you need. Sometimes I need to write. But I found that daily practice brought on a sort of contented silence that needed no further expression. Getting on the computer after a long day of work or training and practice and forcing myself to spew out words for the sake of maintaining a blog seemed ridiculous.
So I let it go.
Yoga, on the mat or off, is all about listening to your little heart teacher (who, admittedly is often more soft-spoken than your boisterous ego or the endless chatter of your mind) and following the practice that serves you. And today, I suddenly felt the urge to write. Today, that’s what serves me.
But enough thoughtful reflection… I freaking missed writing to you guys! Also: I am massively overcaffeinated right now and feeling giddy because, damn, I’ve got some catching up to do. Quite a bit went down during my blog silence…
The Only Really Important Thing You Missed While I Was Away
1) Jeff popped the question.
Yep. We two crazy kids are gettin’ hitched. Not that it was a massive surprise, but the way in which it all went down caught me off guard nonetheless.
The weekend of Jeff’s graduation had finally arrived. After three intense years, he’d finally walk the stage, and accept the handshake and piece of paper certifying his master’s degree at last. Both my parents and his were in town for the occasion and would meet for the first time. And, because Jeff and I fully believe in trial by fire, we had everyone staying in a beach house together for the weekend (including my sister, her boyfriend, Jeff’s good friend, and his fiance).
My sister is a bit of an extracurricular actress, and is almost always involved in one project or another. She had just signed on to a project that professionally produced the plays of select young writers between the ages of 13 and 18 and as we drove back to the beach from Jeff’s graduation she read her script (penned by a 16-year-old) aloud to us.
“The Phantom Dirigable” was meant to be an entirely serious romantic social commentary. It read, however, like a tongue-in-cheek hyperbolic satire skewering sci-fi, fantasy, Twilight, and the Bronte Sisters and was heartily laced with thinly veiled sexual innuendo (actual line from play: “Oh Mary, you may not have a magic dirigable… but I do.”) Oh – and the costumes, as instructed by the author, were to be in the steampunk fashion.
As my sister lamented the fact that the director was taking this play very seriously and all the humor would be lost, we decided we must perform it for the family as post-dinner entertainment in all its ridiculous, farcical glory.
And we did not disappoint. My sister’s boyfriend took on the role of the tall-dark-exotic dirigable pilot and even found a vaguely… ahem… dirigible-shaped paper lamp in the house to play the role of his mysterious… cough… ship. Jess played the sheltered Mary with the necessary melodrama and naivite, and Jeff and I filled in as the brutish overbearing husband and utterly pointless but apparently high-standing family friend respectively.
It was impossible to stay in character (unless your character was a crazy, red-faced woman perpetually shaking – and occasionally snorting – with repressed laughter). And our audience was equally moved to whooping and giggling. We laughed til our faces hurt.
After it was all over, our bows taken, applause accepted, we joined everyone in the large living area in a circle of couches and chairs and floor cushions. Looking around, it dawned on me how perfect it all was. Our families blending seamlessly, our sides aching laughter, relaxing together into easy conversation… I could hear my three-year-old self whining that this was all too nice.
It was at that moment that Jeff spoke up and said he was wanted everyone to know how happy he was that they were all there to see him graduate as he could not have managed it without everyone’s support… especially mine. His dad then, as if on cue, stood up and yelled, “Well why don’t you marry her already, then??” Everyone laughed as this was a bit of a running thing with his parents (who were never afraid to express their desires) until Jeff stood up and replied, “Well, dad, since you brought it up…”
I remember watching him fish in his pocket and drop to one knee. Sadly, it was at that moment that I lost my sh#t. I was shocked my my own emotion. I’d known this was coming for some time. His asking was no surprise. All I can figure is that I was overwhelmed by the impossible niceness. My eyes welled up until I could only see a blurry form of my future husband. I could look around, but I sensed smiling eyes all around, and I couldn’t hear what Jeff said although I saw his mouth moving to form a certain expected question.
His need to ask me anything struck me as a little ridiculous in the moment, an my reply was something like, “Of course I will!” as I found relief hiding my now sobbing face in his shoulder. After a few deep breaths there, Jeff reminded me that I hadn’t even seen the ring yet.
So he then set to helping me unwrap the little brown paper package wrapped in a piece of twine. Inside was a perfect circle of reclaimed rosewood and birch. And I nearly lost my sh#t a second time. Jeff knew me well enough to know that no diamond or precious gem would feel right on my finger, an instead had created a repurposed wood and crushed gemstone ring that fit snuggly and warmly on my finger.
And now, apparently, there’s some big party we need to plan… I promise to avoid turning this puppy into a wedding blog for the next 10 months, but I have the distinct feeling there will be some adventures in non-traditional wedding planning wonderland that must be told along the way.
Meanwhile, life goes on. I’m venturing into the world of teaching yoga, still nurturing a budding photography business, and generally trying to figure life out.
I have a feeling writing will serve me greatly during this time. Expect me to stick around a while 🙂