Goodbye Ordinary


Posted on: March 12, 2013

Disclaimer: This is a very rambly, abstract post. I tried editing it because I’m not sure it makes the most sense but I get it & this blog is me. So…


I never thought I was one that feared commitment. However, as time goes on and I think about the idea of commitment (in any and all aspects)… I found that I really am.

I am a gypsy of sorts.

I grew up an army brat, after hopping from place to place as a tot when it was just my mother and me. I didn’t get to plant roots. It was like I was always a potted plant and each place I went, I’d drop a few seeds, they’d shoot of other plants and before I knew it there were parts of me every place that I’d went. Pennsylvania, North Carolina, Texas, Illinois, Florida, Washington, China; even in my computer (Osms & PT will understand that). Not to mention, in many cases, those seeds didn’t land in soil, but rather on other people. Those roots grew in our friendship, and in many ways those people are a piece of my “home”.

Obviously, it’s not a very “stable” environment for a plant to grow. People change. The pieces of me that I left with them, I can’t get back. Sometimes, I don’t feel whole.

It may sound hard to comprehend because we all give parts of ourselves to others, but I honestly think with me it’s different than most. I never had that stability of a “home town”. I didn’t plant roots. My gypsy heart roamed free and in doing so, I never had the opportunity to share most of my memories with someone. The only constant people in my life have been my close family.

This may be an abstract way to explain my non-commital nature, but think about it. I’m sure many of you have at least one person friend that you can look back through your life and see them as a constant. “Best friends forever”. Sure, I had tons of “BFFs”. The thing is though, the only person in those friendships that held on once I moved to a different time zone… was me.

That has led to feelings of being replaceable. In truth, not only  being replaceable, but forgettable.

So naturally, when I try to think about my entire future (which will be longggg), it’s difficult to imagine it unfolding with the same people. At any time in my life, I could picture my future with the people I was with. I always thought those people would stay connected and be my friends forever. They didn’t. I moved and they moved on. I was just a brief blip in their memory.

I think this is why it’s so hard for me to stick to one thing. I get too attached and I want it to finally be a “forever” thing… Yet at the same time, I’m terrified that it will be like all of the other things in my past and it won’t. It will just be one more loss. One more piece of me missing from the whole. So, I hold back. I push when people get TOO close.

Now on to how this all relates to  yoga…

Ironically, yoga is something that takes a lot of commitment… but at the same time, none at all. My mat (and/or my practice) is there waiting for me any and every time that I want it. My spirit gets to feel all of those emotions that it normally holds inside. I get to let go of it, to uncork the bottle in a sense, and spill it allllll onto the mat. Then when I’m done I can pick up what I want to and go about my life; all the while knowing, it’s right there waiting for me the next time I need it.

Yoga won’t leave me. Even if I leave it, it will always be there waiting. A yoga practice takes commitment. It’s a lifelong journey. There will be times when it becomes too much. I’ll push too hard, the flood gates may open and I’ll decide to run away with my tail between my legs. When I decide to reapproach it though, it’ll be there just as I left it. Constant. Waiting to help me become whole again.


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