I peel myself out of bed on Sunday morning feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck. It is a cold day in San Francisco and every fiber of my being wants to stay put and watch youtube videos. However, if I did that, it would in no way distinguish this day from yesterday, and that just ain’t OK.
It seemed like things were going well since leaving Costa Rica. As soon as I returned, I jumped back into the U.S. lifestyle with both feet. I made tons of plans, filled up my calendar to the brim and even started online dating (isn’t that what all the cool kids do these days?). I was so busy with things to do that I barely even needed any sleep. “This is great!” I remember thinking. “I am so much better at adapting back to this culture than I thought I’d be!”
Like all good things, this one came to an end as well, marked by a severe exhaustion that hit me like a ton of bricks on Friday night. Despite my 12 hour slumber, I woke up the next day feeling like death, to which I responded by laying around my dad’s house like a slug.
However, today I plan to turn things around. After all, each day is a new day to begin again.
With that, I throw on my clothes, make myself a green smoothie and brush my teeth, all the while searching for a reason to bail on yoga. However, I know that if I give up now, the rest of my day stands not a chance.
The wind hits my face hard as I walk out the door and I pull my hoodie over the top of my head. Up the hill I walk…around the corner…down the street. I see the yoga studio up ahead. In that moment, I suddenly feel grateful for this yoga practice because I know it will give me the opportunity to connect with myself again, which is desperately needed. I even crack a smile as I put my hand on the door and pull it op…
It doesn’t budge. Is it locked? Why the fuck is it locked?!
I look at the schedule that is posted to my left and see that I had confused the timing with the schedule from yesterday. This practice began 15 minutes ago. The person from the front desk must have just left.
I stand there for a moment, giving the entire building an ‘are you fucking KIDDING ME?’ look, before begrudgingly turning around and making my way back home. I can’t help but giggle at how this is the very last thing I need right now. Quickly the giggles morph into tears. I can barely contain them so I let them stream down my face and subsequently collapse on the floor of my dad’s house as soon as I walk inside (thankfully, he is at work so I don’t have to explain myself). I continue to lie on the ground long after the tears have stopped.
When I finally manage to stand up, I decide that I will still NOT let this ruin my day but instead use this time for some deep contemplation.
The truth is that, since leaving my old life behind when I moved out of the country three years ago, I have become an expert at jumping into things, and this is one of my greatest strengths. I don’t let life pass me by – I am never too hesitant or too stuck in my head to take a chance. I say ‘YES’ and take advantage of every opportunity if I feel it will grow me or challenge me in some way. This has led me to a life filled with more unique experiences than many people have in a lifetime.
That said, the same attribute is also one of my greatest weaknesses. I am unable to sit still for a good length of time and appreciate the mundane things in life because something newer and more shiny always comes along. This is probably why I haven’t been able to commit myself to anything (a job, a location, a relationship) in over 3 years. And, like what happened this weekend, I have spells of severe exhaustion because I leap before a look and often don’t let my body tell me that I’ve taken on too much until it’s too late.
So, where do I go from here?
I have lived the extremes of two completely separate lives – one as a controlling, regimented corporate executive with a husband and one as a free-spirited, jungle hippie with no commitments whatsoever. Both have their benefits and both have their drawbacks. So…what about a balance of the two?