My quiet wafty days here are coming to an end Thursday morning, when I fly to Vancouver for a short but intense little client meeting. It's the oddest kind of the work I do, pure consultation, but on a rapidfire schedule. It's interesting that the pharma companies more than anyone "get" that research with human beings isn't about "discovering" something but about creating conversations that live on in the participants' "real lives." I have to put my "tight schedule" hat back on, and I don't know if I can rouse myself out of the soft space and elastic sense of time I've been living in.
I went to a "Yin" yoga class tonight. It was one of those perfect counterpoints to the running and more aggressive ashtanga I've been doing. Yin was apparently developed to help prepare people for sitting meditation -- to open up the hips and pelvis, stabilize the core, etc. It's exactly what I should be doing, the underneath tautness that I can cover up with all my core strength and bouncy energy. These poses are held for at least 3 or 4 minutes, and it's astonishing to me how intense the simplest "sleeping swan" pose can be for me, with my non-rotatable hips. Working into that depth is a profound journey into the edges that I'm not usually quiet enough to contemplate.
I've found those edges of my sense of self here, in this novel openness of space and time and solo-ness. I have been fully, officially uncoupled from A for more than a year now, and I feel like this is the first time I have really stopped moving long enough to tentatively feel around the edges of where I am to find outlines and boundaries of self. I've been a little lonely, a very different kind of loneliness than the loss of being partnered, and it's a good kind of probing, questioning sense of alone-ness. It's not missing someone else, it's feeling myself fully present to where I am, untethered in space, showing me the edges of where I'm content and clarifying some of what it is I would like to write into my story. It's a good sensation, grounded and rooted and energetic around the outside, deeply challenging in locating and staying in tension with the tight hipjoints and taut shoulders.
I'm a bit sad about the interruption to this face-to-my-own-face time -- I'm looking forward to meeting my online pals and hanging out and having good girltime -- especially Katie!, but I know that when I get back the rest of my time here will just slide away. I have to figure out how to keep some of this space in my life back in Toronto.
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1 comment:
I resent every interruption of my rare and precious free-flowing time periods. I frown about dear friends wanting to visit and getting together with people I've long wanted to meet. As much as I would want to meet you and Katie, I would also be sad for the loss of unstructured endlessness.
Even when I have the time and keep the interruptions away, I can't seem to feel that sense of having lots of time that I used to have. There is never enough time to feel that sense of timelessness that I had when I was younger.
One of my long-held dreams is to spend a month alone in a cabin in the mountains. Bring up all my food and be fully alone for the entire time.
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