Becoming Unglued

Every time I rolled over in bed last night, I woke up because…

My. Body. Ached.

Yesterday’s epiphany?  I am not my body.

Not world shattering, I know.  But most of the time, I forget this because every social construct around me wants to convince me otherwise:  You are what you eat, or don’t eat.  You are where you live, and what you drive, and what you wear, and how you smell, and what you do for a living, blah diddy blah, blah, blah.

I’m officially calling bullshit on all that.  You know what you are?  What I am?

You are what you can see.

Not “see” with your eyeballs, but with (don’t say it, Kath) your Third Eye. (oh god, she said it.)

In those magical moments, nano-seconds really, when you can pull out of this drama-rama and watch the whole show of malls, and clothes, and food, and bodies and yes, even yoga class, and know that I’m not really this…

Bam! Wake-up time.

Unfortunately, it often takes a mighty wrench of some kind to extricate yourself from the gluey culture that wants to keep you stuck. Because the culture would collapse if you stopped buying stuff, or stopped making yourself crazy doing stuff you hate just for money or to please people who are equally stuck. You need to play the game, goddammit.

So, back to me, in bed, aching.

Yesterday.  Holy shit.  The practice after lunch was so hard (at least for me.)  I wanted to cry.  I wanted to surrender.  I wanted to just take Child’s Pose and have it all disappear.  I kept saying under my breath, “holyshitholyshitholyshit.”  My mind kept asking, “Why must you do this to yourself? Whyyyyy???

At one point, I was in Warrior 2 with a backbend with Yoganand  holding my knee and pulling it over my ankle all the while telling us all to, “Just let the intensity build like a coiled spring, so that when you release,  you will just shoot right into Ardha Chandrasana, like a rocket.”

It was abundantly clear that I was not going to shoot anywhere upon release. (Except maybe to the floor in a cannon ball splash of sweat and tears.)

But then I just snapped, and began laughing uncontrollably (not out loud, of course, but inside). Because in that moment, in order to physically continue, I had to totally dissociate from my pain.  And when I did that, I realized…

I am not my body.

My body can be in pain, but I’m in here, watching the whole thing, and I’m perfectly fine. Laughing, even.

And I re-realized that doing yoga is the same as buying groceries or drinking coffee or going running or taking a bath.  If you can see it.

It’s a big “IF”  I know, and unless someone has a gun to your head, (or a hand on your knee in Warrior 2 with a backbend) you really can’t become unglued all by yourself.

So that, boys and girls, is the story of why I do this to myself.

And now I must go take a shower and get ready to do it again today.

(Pray for me.)

7 thoughts on “Becoming Unglued

  1. Thanks and Amen Kath- I resigned my job this week after 12 years. I was on the fast track to crazytown for sure. I started coming home stressed and with a big knot in my gut every night and had to look at my husband and kids and knew that I was not being who I wanted and needed to be. I had definitely begun (for like ever) to define myself by who many Gap jeans I could buy the kids and how many expensive purses I could by myself and wow is that unhealthy. The last few days have felt like I am one of those folks who lose like 200 lbs and get a makeover on Oprah. Scary jump for me- but one that I thank God I made. CAN NOT WAIT to be at Main St Yoga. Still going to take my spot in the back, but I will be the gal who looks not crazy and I will be smiling. Love your Blog- thank you for writing it.


    1. Gwen,
      I am SO happy for you! Happy New Life, darlin’! Isn’t it amazing how, when you get back into alignment with your values and your true beliefs, and get rid of all the crazy-makers, how liberating and joyful life is?? (believe me, I know this) So I rejoice with you! *insert happy dance here* Looking forward to practicing with the “new you!”


  2. I felt like that during the marathon last year. I think after running for hours and being so close to done but still not there, and being in so much pain and fatigue, I just started laughing too, but to myself, because I didn’t have any energy to actually laugh.


  3. Gwen, there must be something in the water…2 other people I know just did the same thing! Good for you, but we will definitely miss you. Ok Kath, so next time I’m in a painful predicament I’ll just remind myself that I’m not my body. I already knew that actually, from recent experience, but I’m far enough removed from it that I’ve begun to forget. Thanks for the reminder.


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