My fifteenth and final entry for 2016.
I sit here in my bedroom and try to put 366 days into words. Historians will certainly have much to say about this year. Political upheaval. Humanitarian failures. The loss of iconic celebrities. Hell, even the Cubs and Cavaliers won championships in their respective sports.
However, all of that is the province of historians to analyze. As for me?
(Pours a Bushmills. Neat.)
I learned how ungrateful some people can be.
I learned how destructive some people can be.
I learned (well, relearned) how hateful people can be.
I watched people in pure anguish fearing for their children, their parents, their future.
I (once again) was forced to "make things work" after yet another decision was made without consulting me, or by ignoring my wishes outright.
I watched co-workers become more and more bitter, burned out, and leave.
I shed more tears than I have in a long time (including Christmas morning and this morning).
My year in yoga was difficult as well. I attempted another long duration challenge. My last goal was 120 days but I stopped at 104. It was the complete opposite of the previous year: instead of improving and feeling better and better, it was horrible. It was like trying to practice in quicksand at times. It got so bad I couldn't even make myself walk in the room at times. Then in November, the studio was forced to close its doors -- attendance had dwindled so that continued operation became untenable. I was part of the collective mourning of my yoga friends as they scrambled to find new or similar venues. I'm still searching for a full time studio -- and the money to pay for it (work-study was such a blessing).
Without a regular yoga practice, and with the holidays looming, I retreated to darkness. Depression. Hopelessness. For the last six weeks, I have had the most empty feeling most of the time. Eating half of Fort Worth hasn't helped. I hesitate to step on the scale but I will do so tomorrow just to see where I'm starting from. I turn 50 in ten months... right now I feel like I'm 70. I feel empty. Used up. Nothing left to give.
On the good side, I rediscovered writing. If you follow my Twitter account, you see I post poetry there. I truly enjoy writing, and I have met so many fellow writers who encourage and inspire me. I am also part of an extended yoga family that has kept up with and encouraged each other since the studio closed. My yoga journey is not over by any means. I simply have to figure out how to make it happen. Lastly, there a few people that I hold dearest to me. People that check in, make sure I'm ok, let me rant or cry, and basically keep me going. I may not see them often, if at all, but they are quite special to me.
So, for 2017:
I have to figure out how to make LIFE happen again. I've been on this merry-go-round far too long. I cannot bear the thought of taking another turn. I have places to go. People to see. Yoga to practice. Time is short for all of us. I have a lot of life to live and love to give. I matter. I have meaning. My life has meaning.
I am enough.
I am enough.
I am enough.
Thank you for reading and following. Hang with me a little longer.
You. Are. Loved.