Pretty is

Today in the car, Big Kid was telling me about some YouTube guy that he follows and how he went viral overnight because of his rant about women.

"Hmm, that's crazy," I said, only half listening because as soon as they say "YouTube guy," I mentally turn the channel.

"Yeah--he even went Tumblr viral and he doesn't even HAVE a Tumblr!!"

"I bet he's happy," I offered, still not sure what Tumblr viral was or if I even want to know.

"No! He went viral because it was so bad. What he said was so bad, mom, and he won't apologize! That is so dumb, to know you've hurt so many people and not WANT to apologize!!"

"Well, what did he say?" My curiosity piqued.

"He said that girls need to shave their legs and wear makeup and do their hair and always dress nice. He said if they have peach fuzz above their lip they should shave it! That could hurt a girl! Seriously, he's LUCKY to even get that close to a girl...especially now."

"Huh. Yeah, girls and women get tired of being told we should look a certain way because boys and men think so. There don't seem to be as many suggestions that guys always style their hair and dress nice. I think a lot of times girls feel like we're always expected to be pretty, and that's not really important in life."

"You know what girls need to do to be pretty?" He asked.

"What?"

"EXIST! That is literally it, mom. Just breathe air." I laughed. "For real, I have never even seen an ugly girl, ever," he added.

"Really?" I asked.

"Really. I mean, not all girls look like tv stars but I've never seen one that was ugly. What would even make them ugly?" He asked with sincerity.

What a good question. 

Minecraftless

little kid is grounded from Minecraft (including Youtube videos about Minecraft, because these are as addictive as the actual game) for a week for repeatedly forgetting to bring his homework to turn in on Fridays.

It's about to be the longest week of my freaking life.

My morning began with some "morning snuggle time" that involved stealing all of the covers while I was still asleep before launching into a rambling conversation about baby horses and how impossibly long their legs are, and how absurd it would be to put a baby bonnet on a baby horse and try to put it in a baby carriage so you could feed it a bottle. Have you ever done that, mom? No? Would you put a saddle on a baby horse and try to ride it? Why not? But you could, right? No? What about the baby carriage thing? If you had one that was big enough...? No? Have I told you about the baby horses in Minecraft with their long legs? No? You don't want to hear about them? Their legs are long.

Then we went over every pet I've ever owned in my life time. I have had A LOT of pets.

Then I begrudgingly woke up. I was having an amazing dream before this began, by the way.

He decided to have an apple as a morning snack and sounded like a baby horse while eating it. Now he's swatting a balloon around the living room--his second balloon, actually, the first one popped, loudly, and they keep landing on me while I try to prepare for an important job training thing I'm doing later today. It's morphing into some strange jumping jack/flailing/balloon swatting nightmare.

A week of this?

I don't know, is homework that important?

Would it be illegal to lock him outside for a week? Or just frowned upon?

Vulnerability

Holy shit. What a weekend. What a terrible, horrible, wonderful weekend.

Inhale and exhale, the refrain of the past 5 months of yoga teacher training.

So as indicated in the post below this one, Friday sucked. I was sad and felt picked on. I had a good morning power class though, and then a 2 hour workshop with my favorite teacher. I did handstand and side crow and eight angle pose, which is some Cirque de Soleil-like shit, in my opinion, all things I'd never done before and truly didn't think I was strong enough to do.

I decided to rally. I dug deep in my heart for something personal and touching to share during that night's practice teach. I was nervous but ready and eager. You passed or failed and could stop teaching once you did. When people passed, there was much excitement and jubilation. Everyone was passing. I told myself that THIS would be the night where I would give them what they were looking for, from the heart, and THIS would be the night where I finally got some positive feedback for my hard work.

So I got up. I kept my voice strong but tried to sound less rehearsed as I got people breathing and into the first pose. I created connection by speaking directly to individuals. I got them into the first pose and was leading into my story (that I didn't fully rehearse, so it wouldn't sound rehearsed) and before I could even start, they pointed to my mat and told me to go sit down.

What the fuck? I was baffled.

After others went (and passed, and clapped, and danced, and high fived their team), it was my turn again. I started back up and they stopped me. I asked what it was they were looking for since they had specifically told everyone else what element needed to be added, and they waved me away and told me I had to give up my need to be right. I pointed out that I wanted to pass, though, and needed feedback because I had no idea what was going wrong. They pointed out that I used the word wrong and that I didn't have to be right.

It was incredibly confusing for me.

Then they had me tell the group that I was giving up my need to be right so I did but they said it didn't sound sincere. So I had to do it again. And again. And again. And again. Until I had to walk around from individual to individual and say it to them over and over until they "felt it."

IT TOOK A WHILE.

Then, my favorite teacher, my mentor, the person I say I want to be when I grow up, someone who I consider incredibly intelligent and kind and genuine, got down on one knee (because I was on my knees, trying to convince a classmate that I no longer want to be right...I'm actually laughing a little as I type it, the whole thing is absurd) and looked me in the eyes and firmly asked if I knew I was intimidating.

Me? But I meet new people easily. I am approached so often by strangers in public (for good and for bad.) People smile at me a lot, and I smile back. I have what I feel is a genuine connection to their regular students and feel like I'm one of the people that makes the studio a "safe place" for others. I manage the staff with humor and flexibility and compliments.

To me intimidating is not a good thing to be. It's actually something I wish I were sometimes, I always feel vulnerable and envy those who don't seem that way. But I think intimidating people seem unpleasant and unfriendly, so that's no good.

She was staring at me, so I said that was something to consider. She said, no, really, no one's ever told you that? No. Never. She said something about people being afraid of me and that would make it difficult to do my job. It seriously blew my mind. I told her I did my job well and she said she knows I do. I turned and said the sentence I'd been saying to the last classmate still sitting, thinking that if she stood up I could teach and show them (and myself) that I can do this, whatever it was they were wanting me to do, and they started to clap which was the sign that I was finished...so I never really taught at all.

I was crushed. To the core of my being crushed. I felt like I had spent the last 5 months, however many hours, so many tears, so much struggle, giving up my lie that I was not enough and people did not like me. And then someone whose opinion seemed so important to me told me that my way of being is something that translates to unlikable. And I didn't even get to teach yoga.

I felt like everyone was passing, not just this exercise but the entire program, and I was just finding out on the very last weekend that I failed; not only was my teaching suddenly not going well but I apparently had a personality problem and a lack of self-awareness. I felt like I spent all of this time finding my pieces and gluing myself back together, having only a moment to marvel that I had actually done it fairly seamlessly, just to be dropped again to see if the glue would hold.

And this is not about making her wrong (or me right, believe it or not). If you asked every single person in the room how this went down, their perceptions would vary. She's not the type to make it personal, as odd as that sounds in relation to such a personal revelation, so I am certain this has been her experience with me and it's valid. This story isn't about her at all.

I stayed up all night long thinking of every relationship, every interaction, everything I've shared trying to figure out how I'm intimidating and not authentic. If it was something that made sense to me, I could (albeit unhappily for a minute there) accept it and work on improving but it just made no sense. I only slept for 4 hours. I woke up crying. I got ready crying. I brushed my teeth crying. I got it halfway together enough to get into the building and onto my mat in child's pose, where I spent half of the 90 minute class, with my forehead on my mat trying to figure out which of these people in my community may have felt intimidated by me at some point and wondering if my boss doubted my ability to do my job. It was a heated class and my tears mixed with my sweat and pooled up under me.

I thought about leaving. Forever. A scary person can't do my job at the studio. A scary person can't teach yoga. I got what I came for, and then lost it, and I didn't need the piece of paper. If no one else noticed the happy, friendly confidence I'd been feeling, then did it even happen? If I was still intimidating after all of this, there's probably not a lot of hope.

Yoga was not fun at all anymore.

Our "graduation" was a huge community class that we were all going to co-teach. I was literally sick to my stomach (correct usage of literally here) at the thought of doing it--where on Friday I felt good about my ability to deliver a decent class in front of strangers, now after all of my "practice," I was not even comfortable letting strangers look at me since I had no idea of what they saw since it was so different from how I felt. I had helped plan the graduation party earlier in the week and I quietly decided not to go.

A lot of my classmates checked in with me. A lot of them offered their feedback on what had happened and on me as a person. None of them claimed personal experience of me being intimidating and some seemed as baffled about it as I felt. In these conversations, I realized that these were the type of friends I could expect to be honest with me and that these people genuinely knew me and cared about me and were listening generously and answering as best they could, with answers that weren't always easy to give. I had been feeling like I had made a terrible mistake coming out of my shell and their friendship made me feel like I hadn't.

Students began to file in for the community class. Regular clients who I help when working, people from classes I helped assist, and coworkers of mine all came to support us. When I would thank them for showing up, they would look warmly into my eyes and tell me they wouldn't miss it or they were excited for me or wanted to celebrate with me, all people I had only met over the past few months. I didn't feel very intimidating.

When it was my turn, I got up and did fine. Did I dazzle anyone with serious from the heart inspiration? No, I'm sure I did not. But my voice did not shake, I stood tall, I moved people through the poses with ease, and I felt okay doing it in front of a room full of 70 people after one of the most emotionally unpleasant weekends I've ever had.

I feel good about where I am as a beginning yoga teacher (who still doesn't want to actually teach yoga). My personality will come through when I actually have the opportunity...and a few positive chances to get it "right" won't hurt either (if I ever decide I want to teach, in which case please remind me that I don't want to teach.)

When being called up to get my certificate, one of my teachers announced that I had blown her away with my teaching that day and all four of the teachers hugged me and said nice things and one of them whispered "I love you" and I know she meant it.

My classmates and I all hugged as a group and individually, warm, real hugs. My husband and sons brought me roses. I went to the graduation party and we had dinner and drinks and took pictures and laughed and joked and hugged, and hugged, and hugged some more.

I am not intimidating.

There may be people out in the world who experience that and that's fine--I don't love that, obviously, but I'm not taking that on as being a problem about me or something I need to fix. I'm also not too worried about my authenticity. Maybe I am missing some big lesson or opportunity here but I'm just going to be me--my normal, slightly improved self, and continue celebrating the few times in life I do get it "right" in spite of my insincere promise to give that up.

I'm going to give up trying to interpret what it meant and accept it as true to some degree but not an accurate reflection of how I make others feel or any indicator of my ability to teach a yoga class.

Which I'm not going to do.

But maybe that was the lesson after all. I don't know. It doesn't matter. I'm happy! I'm done! I'm a yoga teacher. The end.

And exhale.

Miss Personality

Guys, I don't want to be a yoga teacher. If I tell you that I do, I'm lying. I just want people to like yoga like I do, so just save me some steps and go ahead and like it.

SELF, THIS IS IMPORTANT. YOU MEAN IT THIS TIME.

I don't have to be a yoga teacher. Anyways, aren't I officially a yoga teacher once I get the certification? I mean, technically, I will be able to check that off the list pretty soon here and return to the safety and comfort of my couch.

So, that's how my last yoga teacher training weekend is going so far.

Despite knowing my stuff (and I thought being pretty good at it) I pretty much bombed in our group practice teach. I feel like the teachers helped coordinate the bombing by being extremely vocal and heavy handed and lengthy in their on-the-spot coaching of me. It went on for like 400 years, no exaggeration. (Okay, maybe a little.) I felt small and confused as to what exactly they were looking for, but pretty clear that it was nothing I innately possessed. I was really annoyed to be singled out. Then I was embarrassed. And maybe my chin trembled and maybe, just maybe, I dropped some hot, quiet tears in down dog when I returned to my mat. I was really upset by the time I got home.

And after some processing, I know they were looking for personality and connection. They said I lack authenticity. One pointed out that my writing is excellent and I shine on paper, probably trying to prove that I'm very capable of this, but at the time it made me feel like maybe that's my thing to shine at, and maybe you only get one thing.

After even more processing, I think they were holding me to a higher standard because they see potential in me and thought I "needed" it, or something. They are wise women and do appear to be invested in my success and involvement with the studio. But if I didn't already work at the studio in a job that I love, I would've pushed someone out of tree pose and walked out the door.

It was that good.

I don't know. I don't think whatever they were trying to do worked. I am certainly not "unmessable."

So just do me a favor and like yoga. I will be a yoga teacher (on paper) soon and if I inspired you to like it, that would complete this goal.

Right?

One Yoga Year

I just received a "one year anniversary" email from the yoga studio.

So a year ago, I accidentally stumbled in late to a power class and got my ass kicked. I left feeling way too slippery, sweaty and overwhelmed, choking on the smell of incense and determined to never do yoga in a heated room ever again because it is nothing at all like sitting on the couch, of which I'm a big fan.

One year later I work there and am days away from being certified to teach the exact same type of class I swore I didn't like. Haha, universe, you comedic genius, you. (And when I say "comedic genius" we all know I mean "crazy bitch" but I'm too scared to say it.)

I still don't know if I want to teach though. I know 2-3 posts ago I probably said I did, but tonight is not one of the nights I think so. Mostly because I already have several jobs and I have done enough things that feel scary for the year, even though it's only February. I want to be the type of person that could teach a yoga class, but do I actually have to teach a yoga class to do that?

No, really, I'm asking.

(I just re-read that and I think you might actually have to teach a yoga class or two to be the type of person that could teach a yoga class. Fuck.)

At some point in this journey, I have assured people that I will not become one of those people who chirps up with, "You should try yoga!!" in response to every life complaint. I thought of those people as annoying and simple-minded and incredibly unhelpful. Rarely is anyone like, "Oh my god, I should try yoga! Problem solved! Thanks so much for suggesting it, I feel better already!" No. Those people are like, "Oh, right, I forgot she was one of those annoying yoga people, next time we see her at Target, let's not make eye contact."

And yet, I am one of those people.

Luckily my job gives me an outlet to do that. I cannot even begin to tell you how many people come in to buy a new student special and end up involved in a quiet and intense conversation about what they are looking for in life. How many people are willing to bare their soul about their anxiety or depression or real life stresses to me, the lady swiping their credit card, and how incredibly relieved they seem when I lean over the desk and share how I ended up there for the same reason and how far I feel I've come (and how far I have yet to go--another thing I love about the mental and physical practice of yoga, it is ever evolving.)

It carries into real life, too, though. Need to lose weight? Gain strength? Detox? Back hurt? Sleep better? Bored? Overwhelmed? Need friends? Anxious? Sad? Doing great? Do a headstand? You should do yoga! I cringe typing it and I try not to say it too often, but I mean it. For me, it's mental more than physical, but I love how yoga is different things for different people. Everyone I meet is looking for something and so many end up finding it there. Corny or not, it's a beautiful thing.

Part of my yoga teacher training homework was assisting classes. Assisting is when you go around helping people either do yoga poses better or feel better doing it and it involves touching sweaty stranger skin and being close to others which is not something I've gotten a lot of experience with from my couch. Some people don't really like it (I was one of them this time last year). I could sense that and it put the socially awkward penguin in me on high alert at first. But eventually I paid more mental attention to the people who would wave me over, mouthing, "Do that thing you did last time!" or giving me a thumbs up with a contented sigh or even just the ones that quit tensing up as I approached (because it's the small things sometimes), and I began to like it.

 At the end of class I would sit at the front with the teacher and look out over rows and rows of shiny, happy, sweaty, peaceful people during savasana, watching the dramatic rise and fall of their chests and the heavy, satisfied way their bodies settled and rested. It's a beautiful thing. In that quiet moment, I don't worry about them hating me or if I've contracted MRSA.

And I know they don't hate me. And I probably didn't contract MRSA. I hope.

But all of that (minus the MRSA) almost makes me want to be a yoga teacher.  I need to be a yoga student for a while longer before I could possibly be the kind of teacher I want to be, so I guess I have some time to think about it. I know I could do it, it's more of a "Do I want to?" thing. I also know I want to, so maybe it's a little bit of a "Could I do it?" thing. Skydiving was easier.

This ended up being pretty "Dear Diary-ish"...sorry about that. I think we worked through some things though and hopefully I've gotten my "Hey guys, try yoga!" out for now. I graduate on Sunday (thank the sweet baby Lord Jesus because love it or not, I'm done with this aspect of it). I guess we'll find out what happens next whenever it happens.

Wake Up Call

One of the neighbor kids keeps coming over and knocking like the SWAT team before 9 am on Sundays.

The only reasonable thing I can think to do is to hire a scary looking clown to stand outside her bedroom window at night.

I was considering some sort of shock device on the door that works on a timer and disables at 9:30 am but that seems pretty complicated. 

She's lucky she's cute.