This morning Baddy and I laughed, cried and spat at each other, and the kids, in the one hour we had together before we shoved everybody into the car to go to school. Oh to be able to afford the $1,000 per kid school bus.
This behavior is indicative of a strange phenomenon that occurs before my birthday every year. It used to be that I felt in sync with the world and everything seemed to magically flow together setting my new year?off with a tremendously, positive, embracing bang. Something has changed in the past few years and I am hoping that age has nothing to do with it.
Nowadays, approximately one month before my birthday, the chaos in the Universe descends upon me full force throwing major obstacles in my path. My life becomes very disconnected and I cannot trust my intuitive navigational tools.
It is true that I place a lot of value in our biological connection to nature and the universe. It would make sense that there is some kind of cosmic shift when one reaches the annual date of when they were born. I just am not used to feeling as though I am wearing a wetsuit inside out and backwards with two left shoes filled with water to guide me.
This year I am determined to fight this onslaught of dysfunction. I am eating beets and spinach and hitting the yoga hard. I have even started a meditation practice. But with children it is never easy to stay in control of a steady flow and balance. I can only try my best as I whirl into yoga after maniacally cleaning the house, getting the kids dressed, preparing snacks and loading the car for pick up after school.
I burst into the yoga studio five minutes late, which is very characteristic of me, and cause complete disruption in the yoga room making everybody move their mats around to fit me in. I smile and mutter my apologies to all of my fellow yoga diehard friends. After class I ask my yoga instructor and friends if they think that moving from completely frenetic energy to Pranayama breathing could possibly do me in. They all agree that the reason we go to yoga is to break down that energy and reach a place of calmness and peace.
Commiserating with friends helps. We reassure one another that we all are facing the? same struggles in our daily lives and that we all have to endure needy, screaming kids as well as husbands at times. We look to each other for validation and therapy. We share our profound wisdom and experience helping each other to know that we are not alone in the world. We all must endure the ennui that is part of our job description. We master the science of learning how to fit in our personal time so that we are ready to give our families our undivided attention. It is common to hear comments like, My husband thinks that by flushing the toilet he is contributing to the housekeeping chores.
Last night I got into bed and looked over at the pile of books waiting to be read. The New Yorker came first to keep me educated and in the loop, next came an autobiography of a child survivor of the Holocaust. A story that parallels the lives of many of my late relatives. Lastly, to help fill my mind with positive ideals as I slept, I started The Art of Achievement by Tom Morris, a new friend on Twitter.
I fell asleep with a well-rounded read of politics, humanity and philosophy and woke up challenging life. Bring it, I thought, because those people and obstacles that are doing their best to bring me down, are my tools to help me to rise like the Phoenix and become a stronger being.