Real Talk

If I could be typing this on a typewriter, I definitely would. I worked for 12 consecutive hours today on lesson plans, unit plans, and grad school work on this damn machine. And the worst thing about it is that I’ve build nothing – next week, I’ll have to do it all again.

This is what could be surmised as a “rough patch” in my admittedly privileged life: yes, I realize children are starving and women are being tortured in developing countries and my own cousin is sitting in solitary confinement as I write this, but it’s difficult not to think of my problems as real problems, too.

When I went to my first education conference in April, the first thought that went through my mind after scanning the room was, “these people don’t look good.” It was not a judgment, just an observation – after spending so much time around bodies of healthy weight and clear skin, it shocked me to see so many overweight, dehydrated, frowning people in one room. And now I’d fit right in.

I am getting unhealthy, mentally, physically, and spiritually, and it’s killing me. When I try to talk to people about problems, I get the same reaction: an empathetic yet smug look and then the dreaded question: “So, what do you think you can do to help yourself?”

It’s a natural question. They have the best intentions. But it’s hard to rise to meet the demands of so many people literally ever waking hour (and I never use the word literally) then turn around make demands upon myself. And in a culture that blames the unsuccessful for their lack of success, it’s hard to explain that to friends. I’ve been reveling in the delicious pity parties I’ve been having with Ryan – as unconstructive as they are, I appreciate him giving me what I want.

In yoga school, we talked about sitting in our problems and worries because they were more comfortable than taking action steps to empower ourselves. I know that’s what I’m doing. I need more yoga and a healthier diet and things are standing in my way , but not as many as if I were not born an privileged westerner. I know what I need to do, and I just need to do it.

Tomorrow I’ll teach yoga. I haven’t practiced since Tuesday. And then I’ll skip church so I can work some more. And no, I can’t take a break. Because shit needs to get done, and there’s never any time.

But I’ll start trying. I just can’t sit in this anymore. 

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