Rebounding

I am still only partially recovered from last weekend’s training session. I went into that one on the heels of post-holiday-lag and a late night phone intervention with N1, who read my post about his mother.

N1 reads my blog here and there now (Hey, kiddo.) and though I suppose this should push me to censor a bit, I probably won’t.  He’s sixteen.

“I’m not a child,” he tells me.

But he’s not a grown-up either (sorry, N1) and certainly, I know things from a perspective historical and experience based – about our family that he doesn’t.

Long story shortened – I find out via Facebook (the joys of a mixed feed) that N1 was planning to make a little trip to his mother’s for the purpose of retribution.

First of all, violence is not a good idea. Second, it would have accomplished all of nothing.

So we talked and came to terms and in the end, N1 couldn’t have made the trip anyway because he’s totaled not only the car that my mother bought for him, but his dad’s car too. Within two weeks. I think only my mother has a better record for auto accidents than that in our family.

But as a result, I got about 5 hours of sleep before the Friday training and we worked on twists.

I love twists, but to do the standing ones without falling over, I need sleep and calm happy sinuses. I had neither.

By the time inversions rolled around Sunday morning, I was just enduring. Sometimes I think a big part of the training is survival. It’s like a special forces unit. Or Officer and a Gentleman.

Well, I have other options, but the nagging sense of being a quitter in the face of an obstacle that is largely myself is familiar.

Pray a bit to Ganesh and remind myself that it is just two more training weekends and a final weekend of testing. Woot!

This last week was a slow slog toward catching up on the rest that eluded me and ended with my toppling over in yoga class yesterday because I mis-aligned myself in a standing twist. Definitely left a mark.

But I thought I would score a bit of zzzzz on Saturday morning due to excellent training of the child – who can feed and water herself. However, the lengthening days means that birds tweet merrily from 4AM on (and they will only be getting up earlier in the next two months), coupled with a husband who wanted to get a jump on reno and a daughter who hacked up her breakfast like a cat who’s been grooming too much – and I am still tired.

And I have work to do.

Next Saturday I am presenting at the county library’s writer’s workshop, I have been stepping up my blogging on Care2 and 50 Something, applied for a new online job – for money … it’s an actual paying job … and I have to finish all my yoga reading this weekend because the next training weekend is the 30th.

I should have titled this post “ricochet”.

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