The Reflection is Overwhelming me. Or is it Just me Overwhelming the Reflection?

When I look in the mirror I hardly recognize myself. When I sit still I don’t feel anything like myself. I’ve changed faster than a leaping tadpole in the past few months: there is a baby growing in my belly, I am now the super age of 30, I traveled with my Mamma to India, oh and I was promoted. Along with the current wedding planning… (aka wedding backtracking because the dress won’t fit anymore) I’m beginning to think again about that quicksand, but in a different way. More like a whirlpool, or even better, the grand black hole! Yes, it is like a black hole: the mass of things that are happening in my life right now is so great, the gravitational pull swallows everything and even warps space time.

I don’t want to sound ungrateful for a second; I just want to document the feeling. I created this black hole and the more I explore and understand it, the more I realize I wouldn’t want it any other way or have it located in any other part of my universe.

I am beginning to wonder: although it is great to have all these spokes for my wagon wheel, is it possible to have too many? Is the wheel truly infinite and if so, as we approach infinity, does the quality or rather the limit of the spoke equal zero? By having more spokes, do we make the other ones thinner?

The greatest thinning effect so far has been on my memory. They call it 'pregnancy brain', I call it 'doing too many things at once brain'. What scares me is that it will all go by, before I even have the chance to enjoy it. Additionally, one of the greatest struggles I’ve overcome is taking the edge off. So many new responsibilities provide so many new planets to juggle. In the past nothing could satiate me better than a few good beers. Sure a drink now and then they say is fine, and I saw the gal put beer in the bottle that night on the patio in Germany, “It helps her sleep”, but I’m talking about fine inTOXICation. That is what I need and what I cannot have.

Although, I can have music. As much as I want, whenever I want, even at work and it works even better. Nothing makes me wiggle like that. Nothing makes the rhythm of my heart change like that. Beer never made me feel that good in my soul, not even Paulaner on tap at Oktoberfest in München, and not even Winter Solstice at Humpy’s in Alaska on the longest day of the year.

Music holds it all together so much so that I think as long as it is part of the equation, the wagon wheel has no limit.

* This is a photo I took when we were in Agra (there is a reflection in the water).

Sounds so good

Moving right along with the Bikram TT event: the mood was ridiculous excitement.

When I finally left work I unexpectedly hit hard core traffic and felt the initial fluster, followed by my self-given mantra: ‘Clearly this is an exercise, clearly I am not self-actualized.’

It’s all part of the experience, nothing will phase me, bring it on Bikram!

With nothing else to do, I rolled down the windows and began searching for a song on the radio. A great song. Something to match my mood, pump me up, or just give me some good time happy. Out of the 12 preset selections on my radio every single one of them sounded good. Led Zeppelin, Miranda Lambert, I even got a Bob Dylan. No songs that I would put on my top 10 list, but man they all sounded so good.

When I arrived (exactly at 4:30 pm by the way, no stress) I met my wonderful friend who happens to be the inspiration behind my yoga passion. It was her idea, from the beginning, and I am forever indebted. The best part was that I could clearly tell that she was just as excited as I was.

As soon as we started our Pranayama breathing I realized that this was my first class outside of my studio and the details were very different. Rather the sounds were very different. The tent had an imperious heater hum that pretty much drowned out all other sounds. I missed the ‘music’ of my studio that I know I look forward to. The sound of glass crashing as it falls through the recycling shoot just across the street. The raining pitter patter of sweat as it romantically drips off everyone’s elbows as we stand in tree pose. The bass I can barely hear coming through the floor from the hip-hop studio below when I press my ear to the ground; my toes touch and feet fall open. Sound becomes such a clandestinely invasive part of meditation because you are brought to the primitive place where nothing else exists outside of the senses.

I began to notice the ‘music’ of Bikram’s tent. “What the f*#% are you doing??? You are not doing anything!!!” That actually really pumps me up, kinda like Disturbed. Those are the heavy metal parts; you’ve got to be in the mood for heavy metal and when I'm in the mood, I love it! And then during tree stand in place of my raindrops he sang, chanted, loud. I have no idea what but it calmed my soul, my favorite chorus ever. There were little songs too, where the diction alone made music: “Boss”, “Sweetheart”, “Miss Blue Bikini”. Just the way he said it; the way it sounded made me want to come back for more just so I could listen to his soundtrack.