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It's been happening. It's the kind of week where every time I turn around, I'm missing, remembering, reminiscing about my friends, my experience, my life in Los Angeles, Teacher Training. Blown away it's over, and intensely full of nostalgia for my comrades – we've all faded into our regular lives and we are still a part of one another, but it is never going to be the same. It was a one shot show, once only. I miss so very much about the experience, it comes back in waves.
First I think about the classes. I miss waking up in the morning every day and preparing to hit the mat first thing, before anything else happened in my day. I miss standing around before class in the morning and the evening talking to my besties. I miss Bikram's classes more than I care to admit. I have never, ever, ever, laughed so hard in my life – all while still doing yoga. Who knew. OF course there will never be any other class like that. I miss twice a day yoga, every week. I miss the ease of getting the yoga in because NOTHING ELSE could get in the way. The jokes, the singing, the ridiculous songs. I also miss being sick of hearing the same stupid tired tune, but every time Bikram sang, I loved it. Maybe other people hated it – but I adored it. His energy from the podium was so great. I kept fighting my own feelings because I was in a sea of other people, but now I can look back and I know what I felt. Bikram is a soul that while everyone talks about him being a dick, I am endeared by.
I felt like I had to think he was an asshole because he said mean things too. But that's not how I felt. I didn't find him to be an asshole. I found him to be a master of shock value. That's it. People constantly take shit so seriously. Even me. More than Bikram being a dick to me, I took those ridiculous posture clinic teachers harder than I ever took Boss.
I even miss posture clinics, hours and hours of BS. I do not miss someone giving me crap for bathroom breaks or where I was going at any point in the day – that I certainly do NOT miss. I do NOT miss being told, that one day when my period went on for 2 days longer than normal, "why weren't you prepared enough to bring EXTRA tampons????" (To the person who said, I give you a FUCK YOU from here, right now, still. I was bleeding out of my crotch and very unhappy in that moment). I miss everyone whining and bitching about Mahabarat. I miss laughing and eating garbage food all night long. While I often felt estranged from even my own close knit group of friends, I often didn't realize I was more accepted than I thought. No one really knew me at times, but then sometimes there were moments where people did know me intimately in ways that others in my regular life didn't.
Do I miss being a snotty pile of shit in the last week because I allowed people in posture clinic to rob me of my peace and human dignity momentarily? No. Of course not. I hated that. I hated it more than anything. I felt like the only person who was a mess in those moments. Everyone could see it. There was no way to keep it from being exposed to tens of twenties of people all over. Was I snotty mess? Yes, Yes I was. Because I wasn't ready to accept that everyone is human, and no one gives a shit if you expose your weakness. I regularly do expose my weakness – but typically only in word form. Not in actual, raw expression. A lot of people followed my blog apparently while I was gone, and by the time the real juicy crap hit me, I was unable to take time to write. It's coming out now maybe.
I miss Karen and her cute, smiley self. She is a great lady, and I do know she's got a lot of wisdom. And sweet Tracy, who was often in my room when I came back during breaks from studying...
I miss Gui from Chile... I will never forget the day he asked me if I was having a good day in the hallway back to our rooms - 4th floor neighbors as it were, in the final week. When I in fact, was not having a good week. I tried to say I was okay, And then - I looked at him with his big heart and beautiful eyes, and just started bawling. He took me in his arms and held me and said a bunch of Spanish things and it didn't matter what he said. He squeezed me and it was all okay. His big heart was something that made everyone know and love him by the end of the 9 weeks.
Digression – the things I miss. The damn stairwells. I miss walking down Sepulveda, I miss the spanish speakers. I miss telling them things like, "I'm hungry. I'm so hungry. Hungry for penis..." In Spanish. The look on those faces. Seriously. And I miss Olga... I miss her natural charm and beauty and support. That girl knew I struggled with a sense of self confidence, I think she felt it more than others sometimes. Sniff. There aren't words for missing the people who held my thread of sanity at times. Shit, I had no idea! I also regret not having a chance to get to know more people, better. I could easily turn into a sniffly mess just thinking of these people in detail. Thomas, and yes Katty. But Katty and I have a different connection. And I can feel her proximity. I have more contact with her, so it burns less than say – Olga, Thomas, Gordon... and when we're not talking about my posse, all I can think of is Group 17 and the people who incidentally showed me more support than I think I've ever seen in my life regarding an academic endeavor. Renata, Karoline, Ula... Czech Republic, Germany, Florida... how the hell will I ever connect with these people that I feel shaped me so much, and gave me so much, every day, every week........ it gives me a giant lump in my throat, it makes my eyes water. These ladies... they accepted me and were always there for me, and when I fell apart – they never ever gave up on me. The emotions are so huge. Tangible, and I think they live and breathe on their own.
The group as a whole, screaming and clapping and cheering you on every day as we all stepped up to deliver the postures... when people ask me about TT, I have no way to put the emotions into words. They are so poignant – and most of the time, I've been avoiding them a little bit since I got home. Why would I want to think so deeply about the people I miss... I might actually cry because it's over, and there's no looking back. Actually, I've been so focused on my teaching, on being the best teacher I can be even though most new teachers have a long, maybe much lonelier journey ahead than was TT. I have my freedoms back, but the people... they're scattered all over the World and I miss them. I want to stamp my feet, fists balled up, and scream. I miss my people! Miss them so much! It makes me feel so lonely I don't know I've ever felt like this in my entire life... you know when you miss one person you're in love with intensely, like your lover or your primary life partner? It kind of feels like this, except with 20 people simultaneously.
It's a sense of longing I feel like will never really quite ease up, after all. I have a billion places on the map now that I have an urgency towards seeing, but no vacation time left, and a bunch of financial things to sort out for myself. (I'm still solid, it's going quite well, but I have to recover from that investment). And now I see why people say it is the best money they ever spent.
And now I find myself so qualified. People ask me about yoga everywhere. And I have a million things to say, it all comes out without me even thinking about it. People with their fucked up bodies everywhere....... I want them to come in. I want them to start a yoga practice, because I know. I * know * beyond a shadow of doubt that it would help ease their problem. And yet I can't even get the point across. No... I can't. It's something people have to figure out on their own and want to heal on their own. I can say 100 things and that person who scoliosis will talk about the other yoga they tried and how it made their shit worse. Well, that's because you were doing some weird yoga combined with pilates and this and that. It was not designed as a healing routine, but a fitness routine. The difference is night and day. Your hips are screwed up? You can fix this. I swear.
Most people lack the all out commitment to heal themselves, though. I hate to sound like an asshole, but fuck it. That's the truth. You'd rather try and give a half assed shot at health and do it the lazy way, instead of the hard way. I see it every day.
And Reina reminded me of how she urged me to try yoga for 2 years, and one day I went on my own without her knowing... I told Reina for a year, “no, Reina. I'm a runner. I don't do that pansy ass yoga crap.” Now she is witnessing me – today, and I'm a teacher.
Sorry, Reina. You knew what you were talking about.
There are more things I miss... of course, sure – California. But not really nearly as much as I miss the yoga bubble. And the people. I'm a people lover, and once I make some connections, well. What can I say? I really fall for people. And not just my lovers. My friends are so, so important to me too. And to the people still supporting me (Katty) while I walk the rough path of new teaching. Well, you mean more to me than you know. And so too, do those people who kept me strong through out Fall 2011 TT.
And as Bikram would say in class ....
"Are you ready? YES OR NO?!"
This time, not for a posture, but... For life on the outside?
-Angela
First I think about the classes. I miss waking up in the morning every day and preparing to hit the mat first thing, before anything else happened in my day. I miss standing around before class in the morning and the evening talking to my besties. I miss Bikram's classes more than I care to admit. I have never, ever, ever, laughed so hard in my life – all while still doing yoga. Who knew. OF course there will never be any other class like that. I miss twice a day yoga, every week. I miss the ease of getting the yoga in because NOTHING ELSE could get in the way. The jokes, the singing, the ridiculous songs. I also miss being sick of hearing the same stupid tired tune, but every time Bikram sang, I loved it. Maybe other people hated it – but I adored it. His energy from the podium was so great. I kept fighting my own feelings because I was in a sea of other people, but now I can look back and I know what I felt. Bikram is a soul that while everyone talks about him being a dick, I am endeared by.
I felt like I had to think he was an asshole because he said mean things too. But that's not how I felt. I didn't find him to be an asshole. I found him to be a master of shock value. That's it. People constantly take shit so seriously. Even me. More than Bikram being a dick to me, I took those ridiculous posture clinic teachers harder than I ever took Boss.
I even miss posture clinics, hours and hours of BS. I do not miss someone giving me crap for bathroom breaks or where I was going at any point in the day – that I certainly do NOT miss. I do NOT miss being told, that one day when my period went on for 2 days longer than normal, "why weren't you prepared enough to bring EXTRA tampons????" (To the person who said, I give you a FUCK YOU from here, right now, still. I was bleeding out of my crotch and very unhappy in that moment). I miss everyone whining and bitching about Mahabarat. I miss laughing and eating garbage food all night long. While I often felt estranged from even my own close knit group of friends, I often didn't realize I was more accepted than I thought. No one really knew me at times, but then sometimes there were moments where people did know me intimately in ways that others in my regular life didn't.
Do I miss being a snotty pile of shit in the last week because I allowed people in posture clinic to rob me of my peace and human dignity momentarily? No. Of course not. I hated that. I hated it more than anything. I felt like the only person who was a mess in those moments. Everyone could see it. There was no way to keep it from being exposed to tens of twenties of people all over. Was I snotty mess? Yes, Yes I was. Because I wasn't ready to accept that everyone is human, and no one gives a shit if you expose your weakness. I regularly do expose my weakness – but typically only in word form. Not in actual, raw expression. A lot of people followed my blog apparently while I was gone, and by the time the real juicy crap hit me, I was unable to take time to write. It's coming out now maybe.
I miss Karen and her cute, smiley self. She is a great lady, and I do know she's got a lot of wisdom. And sweet Tracy, who was often in my room when I came back during breaks from studying...
I miss Gui from Chile... I will never forget the day he asked me if I was having a good day in the hallway back to our rooms - 4th floor neighbors as it were, in the final week. When I in fact, was not having a good week. I tried to say I was okay, And then - I looked at him with his big heart and beautiful eyes, and just started bawling. He took me in his arms and held me and said a bunch of Spanish things and it didn't matter what he said. He squeezed me and it was all okay. His big heart was something that made everyone know and love him by the end of the 9 weeks.
Digression – the things I miss. The damn stairwells. I miss walking down Sepulveda, I miss the spanish speakers. I miss telling them things like, "I'm hungry. I'm so hungry. Hungry for penis..." In Spanish. The look on those faces. Seriously. And I miss Olga... I miss her natural charm and beauty and support. That girl knew I struggled with a sense of self confidence, I think she felt it more than others sometimes. Sniff. There aren't words for missing the people who held my thread of sanity at times. Shit, I had no idea! I also regret not having a chance to get to know more people, better. I could easily turn into a sniffly mess just thinking of these people in detail. Thomas, and yes Katty. But Katty and I have a different connection. And I can feel her proximity. I have more contact with her, so it burns less than say – Olga, Thomas, Gordon... and when we're not talking about my posse, all I can think of is Group 17 and the people who incidentally showed me more support than I think I've ever seen in my life regarding an academic endeavor. Renata, Karoline, Ula... Czech Republic, Germany, Florida... how the hell will I ever connect with these people that I feel shaped me so much, and gave me so much, every day, every week........ it gives me a giant lump in my throat, it makes my eyes water. These ladies... they accepted me and were always there for me, and when I fell apart – they never ever gave up on me. The emotions are so huge. Tangible, and I think they live and breathe on their own.
The group as a whole, screaming and clapping and cheering you on every day as we all stepped up to deliver the postures... when people ask me about TT, I have no way to put the emotions into words. They are so poignant – and most of the time, I've been avoiding them a little bit since I got home. Why would I want to think so deeply about the people I miss... I might actually cry because it's over, and there's no looking back. Actually, I've been so focused on my teaching, on being the best teacher I can be even though most new teachers have a long, maybe much lonelier journey ahead than was TT. I have my freedoms back, but the people... they're scattered all over the World and I miss them. I want to stamp my feet, fists balled up, and scream. I miss my people! Miss them so much! It makes me feel so lonely I don't know I've ever felt like this in my entire life... you know when you miss one person you're in love with intensely, like your lover or your primary life partner? It kind of feels like this, except with 20 people simultaneously.
It's a sense of longing I feel like will never really quite ease up, after all. I have a billion places on the map now that I have an urgency towards seeing, but no vacation time left, and a bunch of financial things to sort out for myself. (I'm still solid, it's going quite well, but I have to recover from that investment). And now I see why people say it is the best money they ever spent.
And now I find myself so qualified. People ask me about yoga everywhere. And I have a million things to say, it all comes out without me even thinking about it. People with their fucked up bodies everywhere....... I want them to come in. I want them to start a yoga practice, because I know. I * know * beyond a shadow of doubt that it would help ease their problem. And yet I can't even get the point across. No... I can't. It's something people have to figure out on their own and want to heal on their own. I can say 100 things and that person who scoliosis will talk about the other yoga they tried and how it made their shit worse. Well, that's because you were doing some weird yoga combined with pilates and this and that. It was not designed as a healing routine, but a fitness routine. The difference is night and day. Your hips are screwed up? You can fix this. I swear.
Most people lack the all out commitment to heal themselves, though. I hate to sound like an asshole, but fuck it. That's the truth. You'd rather try and give a half assed shot at health and do it the lazy way, instead of the hard way. I see it every day.
And Reina reminded me of how she urged me to try yoga for 2 years, and one day I went on my own without her knowing... I told Reina for a year, “no, Reina. I'm a runner. I don't do that pansy ass yoga crap.” Now she is witnessing me – today, and I'm a teacher.
Sorry, Reina. You knew what you were talking about.
There are more things I miss... of course, sure – California. But not really nearly as much as I miss the yoga bubble. And the people. I'm a people lover, and once I make some connections, well. What can I say? I really fall for people. And not just my lovers. My friends are so, so important to me too. And to the people still supporting me (Katty) while I walk the rough path of new teaching. Well, you mean more to me than you know. And so too, do those people who kept me strong through out Fall 2011 TT.
And as Bikram would say in class ....
"Are you ready? YES OR NO?!"
This time, not for a posture, but... For life on the outside?
-Angela
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