So much is on my heart, so it’s back to the writing board I come. I’ve been feeling anxious this week. Apparently Mercury is in retrograde and I’m not the only one.
Why am I anxious in this moment? How do I acknowledge these feelings with full understanding that they’re fleeting? That this too, shall pass. Maybe even before the evening falls. Is that why it feels so hard to be honest with myself? Because I know soon my energy will rise? Knowing its brevity doesn’t make what I’m feeling now any less valid.
I’ve built such a fun business in three short months. I’ve taken what I love, wellness, and have begun sharing it with the ones I love. I’ve allowed self-doubt to enter these last couple of weeks. I’ve been doubting if I’m fully capable to lead the ones I love and I hate it. Ted thinks maybe I put too much pressure on myself, and maybe I do, but I want to know that my friends and teammates are more than taken care of by me. I wonder, do I offer enough?
For a few years, I’ve wanted to deepen my personal practice of yoga. I thought this year was my year to complete Teacher Training and then it wasn’t offered. I grieved for a day and moved on, accepting the universe telling me not right now. But it’s still on my heart. Heavy. I love yoga. I love what it’s done for my life and for my spirit. I love yoga philosophy and I want to share it. I love being present in a room full of beings who are also intentionally present and offering themselves up to each other and the universe. I love hearing my teacher’s wisdom and I crave knowing more. I want to create my own practices and share them with the ones I love. I have something to say and I believe whole-heartedly this is my platform. But then I wonder, am I smart enough?
Ted and I have always wanted more than one living child. My Norah is e•v•e•r•y•t•h•i•n•g. She fills my soul with all the good things. She’s given me a life I only dreamed existed. And because of her, I now have an even deeper understanding of what we missed when Sam died. I want to give her a living sibling. But I’m terrified – more than terrified- of being pregnant. I haven’t been this happy in YEARS. I feel carefree. I feel worry-free. Just free in general. It’s been a blessing to live in happiness for fifteen months with my husband and our rainbow baby. So how then, do I risk it all? How do I allow my heart to be so vulnerable to potential heartbreak, again? And how could I not? It takes courage, is how. Am I courageous enough?
Darkness is merely a lack of light. In his book, The Path of the Yoga Sutras, Nicolai Bachman notes, “According to yoga, deep inside each person is the same divine light of awareness that never changes.” Self-doubt is a form of darkness. I hope that by sharing so openly, I’m able to pour light onto my fears and crowd out this moment of darkness by tapping into my own inner light of awareness.