What does a surprise run-in with your ex, an attempt to mend a broken friendship and having to let go of something that you wanted to do anything but-- in twenty four hours get you?
Breakfast.
By yourself, at three thirty on a Wednesday afternoon, without toast because you've already filled the position.
The last six months, if you've been reading along, have been heavy on the emotional for this little apron maker. I haven't posted anything in quite a while. It's not because nothing worth writing about was happening, in fact, it's been just the opposite.
Everything was happening. All at once. So much was shifting, changing and giving way that it was impossible for me to register and comprehend each individual event in full. Never mind try to make sense of it, articulate it only to send it flying through the interweb-e-sphere. All of the dramas mashed themselves together into one giant blur.
Insert yoga breathing here.
That's what I did. I dusted off a gift card to my chant-y sing-y yoga class that I'd been sitting on all year and hauled my emotional pigpen swirl-y self to class. I did breath of fire, I tried to clear my karma, I stuck my tongue out when the teacher told me to, I did a lot of crying under my scarf in meditation and I sang the Sunshine Song at the top of my lungs. I knew that I needed to let everything happen the way it was meant to. I was not to try to control, force or push anyone or anything. I practiced letting go. I tried not to be scared. I let myself shed everything that no longer fit. An old friend. A new relationship. A place to live. Even my clothes were falling off of me. Buttons bailed, my zippers made the decision that half mast was much much better than up OR down, my straps broke up with me and almost always in public.
Insert yoga breathing here.
I tried with all my might not to get arrested for indecent exposure or get caught up in feeling bad about the perceived bad that was happening. I concentrated on my new skin, if you will, that I was sure would appear any day. I gave the world my best brave face and added a smile for good measure. I told myself that I was okay. I was.
Things got better with a bike. My first bike since I lived in Maui. Then a perfect apartment that was everything I'd asked the universe for and right near my favorite coffee shop. Then came some new friendships. There were girl dates and boy talk. Fitness classes and glasses of wine. Hugging, kissing and maybe some cuddles.
I practically danced my way to my happy little coffee post yesterday. And that's when it happened. I came face to face with an old hurt. An unresolved, old hurt. I shook like a leaf. Not here. Not now. NOT HERE! I walked into a wall trying to escape. I pulled myself together. I faced my hurt. I talked, Hurt listened. Hurt talked, I listened. Hurt doesn't hurt so much any more. I let it go.
By sundown, I was neck deep in another conversation. The broken friendship. Friendship talked, I listened. I talked, Friendship listened. I said the hard stuff. All of the unflattering stuff I'd needed to say. Friendship let me. Then I let it go. Friendship and I may just be okay.
Cut to sunrise and a conversation I didn't see coming at all.
Let go Maggie.
It's gonna be alright.
I'm going to be okay.
Insert yoga breathing here.
I'll just make three eggs instead of six.
And a big pile of potatoes.
No toast.
