Sometimes I feel as though I am slowly coming apart at the seams.   Dissolving almost, like a sandcastle being knocked over by the waves.  Bit by bit, being washed away.

Single motherhood can do that.  So can chronic pain or heartache.  After years of standing strong, sometimes I long for permission to just let it all go–to fall apart and give in.

Lately I feel it happening alot–these slow motion melt downs.  I feel I have no reserves. That I am spent.  Exhausted.  Empty.  Easily pushed around by life’s winds.   I feel I am just so easy to knock down. 

It could be the January grey and the bitter cold that seeps into my toes and stays there.  It could be the constant on again, off again migraines this winter.   It could be car who’s engine siezed up this morning.  It could be the rollercoaster of my finances.  It could be the colds that are sweeping in one after the other–different little viruses who are lining up to line my throat. 

It could simply be that I feel as though I am moving in slow slow motion while the rest of the world zooms by on hyperspeed. 

It could be any or all of these things that knock me out of balance and leave me there to slowly fall apart, grain of sand by grain of sand.

It crept up on me again this feeling–the slow unravel.  As the day upfolded it occured to me that life is happening too fast, that I can’t keep up, that it is all slipping away from me.  That I am trying to run on fumes and am failing.

I wanted to run away and crawl into bed and not get up.  To sleep a long sweet sleep.  Instead, I went to yoga.

I came into the conference room we use as our studio.  My teacher was sitting cross legged on her mat meditating.  The class had yet to assemble.  So I unrolled my mat, the tears started rolling gently down my cheeks.   Tears that would have been so hard to explain if anyone had asked me why.  It was simply the feeling of blowing away that had me all undone. 

A few minutes later, it was time to set our intention for class.  “I need to feel the earth under my feet.  I need to feel solid.  I need to feel grounded and strong.”

It is always amazing to me how yoga and breathing and moving my body can set me right.  It never fails to surprise me. 

Class was challenging today.  My legs shoke through each of the standing poses.  These bold triangular moves–they make me feel so solid and strong–a warrior princess.  But today, these moves I love were unusually difficult.   

As I sunk into the poses I became aware of  how gauzy and insubstantial I had felt all day.  I realized I hadn’t been connected to my strength, that my breathing was shallow.  So I sunk into those poses and I breathed.  I felt my feet touch the ground and root there.    With each deepening stretch, each breath, each shift back into downward dog, I grew back into myself.  I knit myself together.

I left the class feeling no less tired, no less annoyed with the migraines and the car and the bills.  But I felt the scales had tipped back into balance. 

The substance of me is weighty-I am a granite boulder not a mound of sand.  These problems are not mighty waves–they are simply raindrops.  They may run along my face, they may even shape me some but they will not wash me away.

5 Responses to “Falling Together”

  1. Karen Says:

    Meg,
    Here is something that my yoga teacher emphasizes and now I do too as I teach in his tradition. Double exhale. That’s right. A double exhalation: a short out breath through the mouth followed by a longer one. Not all the time, as your practice should be done with nasal breathing. But when you shake, feel overwhelmed, come face to face with your resistance. Yoga is nothing but breathing. The inhalation takes care of itself. You will always breathe in again. But the exhalation is something we hold onto, we don’t fully release. When we release very intentionally, robustly, completely, we automatically increase our capacity and our strength.

    Try it. It works literally and metaphorically too!

    Of course, the tears are your releasing too, and very welcome.

    Sorry for the long blather, but this is close to me. This is curative.

  2. Jena Strong Says:

    Meg –

    I remain grateful that you move in slow motion while the world zooms by on hyperspeed. Grateful that you unroll your mat and promptly begin to cry. And that you share the experience here.

    Double exhaling sounds good to me. I will try that, too.

    xo J

  3. Inga Dupree Says:

    Meg,

    I think the world should slow down with you.

    You never know when those releases will erupt — a yoga class, before a big meeting, in the car on the way home. So unpredictable. But cleansing.

    Inga

  4. bella Says:

    shit, it must be in the air.
    I wrote about this recently, this feeling of coming unraveled and how everything just felt like too much too soon and I needed to slow, to stop even.To trust that things will still be there if I step a way for moment.
    I find when I don’t take the time to slow, then I start to feel like I am losing myself, and i just need to ground.
    Sending you love.

  5. Jen Ballantyne Says:

    Darling I didn’t know you were feeling this way lately and I should have known as you are my dear friend. I want you to know that I am here for you even when I have my own ‘stuff’ going on, I know it’s ‘big stuff’ but my friends and their feelings are bigger, just letting you know I am here for you and I care what is going on with you. I am glad you felt stronger after yoga, I think this is another adjunctive therapy I could try to help cope with chemotherapy and all that goes with it, what do you think. Sending you my love and hugs, I am lighting a candle for you as soon as I finish typing this. Love J xxx