Out of the cave....

I have been debating whether to post this or not. Back and forth in my chattery mind.....it's weird to me to blab it out to the world but it's also weird not to? So here goes, this'll be a long one, settle in kids.

First, I want to get down on permanent cyber-paper a smidge of the conversation I had with Owl. We were talking about school (university, grown-up type school) and I was talking about playing (or, not playing) the clarinet. And she wanted to know (as does everyone) if I play any more. I do not. She observed that perhaps that is the issue with my hips. Which leads me to the next paragraph.....

Later that day I went to M's class. M is my teacher. She is also one of my dearest friends but I like to check in my practice with her every once in a while. She's wonderful with alignment and she totally 'gets' my strange body shape (that's not self-deprecation or self-flagellation, it's just the truth). My legs and arms come out at an angle that's a bit different from the typical person. Not enough to make me look weird to the uneducated eye but enough to make certain poses more difficult than they could or should be. Like Tiryangmukhaikapada, that pose is a killer for me. And all of the Marichyasanas are much harder than they really should be. Internal rotation is not my friend. But I digress. So we started working on Tiryang and she noted that I've backpedaled a good bit on internals and on hip flexor stuff. And she's absolutely right. I knew it before I walked into the room. But it hit me like a ton of bricks and I lost it. Complete meltdown in the middle of the room. Embarassing but strangely satisfying and purging at the same time. So lots of yoga homework to do. As it always is. And I carry on with my sad little half-primary.

After class I went to dinner with A, my friend who had the open heart surgery. He's doing very well, pretty much back to normal. And during dinner I noticed that my mother had called, as well as my cousin (mom number 2). Then cousin called again. Shit. So I called said cousin, in Florida, waking her up at midnight. She wouldn't tell me what was up, just made me call my mother.

Turns out my father passed away on Monday afternoon. He had a heart attack (his second) while he was at work. I don't know any more details than that, honestly. My family isn't much for communication, and I'm the least communicative of the bunch. More significant is the fact that he and I have been estranged for approximately 10 years or so. Basically since I moved to New York. For reasons that are best left to another post, as this one will be lengthy anyway.

So now I'm full of crazy feelings. Tearing up at inopportune moments (the line in the cafeteria at work today), feeling incredibly angry, frustrated with BF, who didn't seem to clean or pick up anything in the house other than do dishes while I was gone. Etc etc etc. And now I have to go to Florida (a place I DESPISE more than I hate Long Island) and deal with long-forgotten relatives, my mother, my father's bits and pieces left behind. When people find out, of course the first thing they say is 'I'm so sorry for your loss'. What loss? Did I lose something? I lost this relationship long ago. My mother wanted to know if I wanted to 'say goodbye' to my father before they cremated him. Um, no. First of all, that body is not my father. Second of all, I find the practice somewhat revolting. Apparently his coworkers insisted on a memorial service, which is to be held on Saturday. Tomorrow I get back on a plane again (I'm really quite tired right now of flying) and go to Florida for three days to deal with my taciturn brother and hysterical mother (oh, by the way, my parents have been divorced since I was 14 but my mother will use any excuse to be dramatic) and various and sundry relatives who I won't even recognize at this point.

How do I get my chatty brain to SHUT UP right now? Oh yeah, yoga.