Catie...you saved me

A favorite girlie from my Palm Beach days has this amazing site The Yoga Love and a recent post made me realize that I am possibly practicing both my yoga and life in an incorrect fashion. Catie, I cried when I read your post and it made me think alot about myself and my own burdens and inspired me. So in an effort to clear it all out, here goes.

Traditionally in my Sunday practice with Ann, I think about everything I need to do in the upcoming 7 days (pick up my drycleaning, book my ferry ticket, finish restaurant proposals, mail thank you notes) as opposed to clearing my mind and being serene and calm. For those of you who have never encountered me live, calm isn't a word most people would use to describe me, and most certainly not serene. I'm a little high-strung; my boss uses words like hyper and passionate in my review.

But today my plan is to empty it all. I panic at first because it is 10am but I am the only one here. Finally another member shows, so Ann begins.

I have a tendency to keep my stress and worry all bottled up, and then about every 8-10 weeks I blow of all of my steam (usually over copious amounts of wine with a girlfriend) and let loose like no other, my problems spewing out like a carbonated beverage, along with hot tears and relief. I keep my mind full of things that are out of my control for the most part, like but today I walk into practice and leave everything at the door with my North Face cross-trainers and clear my mind. Today will be the best practice yet.

I pause for a moment, in childs pose to think about how excited Crystal and Travis are with the new baby in their lives, despite the long and painful road that led to her arrival, and how amazing they are going to be as parents. I think about how much fun it's going to be in Saint Simons in June with my Georgia girlies, and how beautiful Mary Beth is going to look at her wedding in the Fall. I remember how I started crying and hiccuping at my own wedding, how Tuck forgot his suit and had to wear jeans, and how excited and happy my entire family was to hear of our elopement.

As I shift out of posture, I can see my March numbers for work looking thru the windows at me, but I close my eyes and continue on, pushing away any worries coming from the back of the room. Deep breath and out. March has 31 days...I will make it.

Into Down-dog.I remember how pleased I was when I was offered an externship with Thomas Keller's restaurants, how proud when I got accepted to Cornell, and my happiness when I passed my Sommelier testings. I remember my 22nd birthday that I spent skydiving in Miami, and my 23rd, 24th and 25th which I spent with Megan in Palm Beach twice and Charlotte once drinking Champagne all day and into the night. I remember my 3 weeks in California, dining at French Laundry, and how beautiful the drive was down the Pacific Coast Highway that February day. I think about Kelly's birthday in Boston, when she, Holly and I stayed at the Liberty and had a bar tab that was the equivalent to a flight to Paris.

I open my eyes and see my grandparents health standing there trying the window, next to my sister's divorce. Maybe the VA will pay for a live-in nurse, or will they move into assisted living? Will my brother-in-law sign the papers on the 10th, and free Pam? Deep breath, I move into Runners Lunge and forge on.

Thru my Warrior sequence...I remember the look on Jen's face when she realized I came back from New York early for her birthday, the look on my Mom and Nons face when I snuck home to Georgia for a family dinner, and the look on my Dads face when I left Aspen early to swing thru Houston and see him. I reflect on how lucky I am to have a husband who ignores my flaws, the most amazing support system and 3 brilliant and amazing best friends ever on this island, along with a family who tells me "as long as you are happy" when I question my decisions and solicit advice for the paths I choose.

I think about how lucky I am to have both parents alive, a husband who doesn't care that I am a pain in the ass, and friends who back me even if they know I am wrong. I think about my grandmother teaching me to ride a bike, my grandfather taking me to The Varsity on North Avenue when I was a little girl, snorkeling in Mexico with my Dad, skiing in Maine with friends, and taking my niece to New York for her birthday. I remember how happy I was when Tuck left his last job, and how proud I was when he opened his own business, that he has built into a success in 3 years. I remember sitting at Ladies Beach with Jane drinking a bottle of bubbles one night as the storm surge came in this summer, us running up the dunes getting soaked by the surf. I remember moving to Nantucket, and how much fun Tara and I had on the drive up from Charlotte and I remember sitting at Cucinas in PB with Catie, Katie and Christina having pizzas and Stoli O & Sodas after a grueling night at the Palm Beach Grill.

Into side plank. I go back more than a decade. Peel back the layers, Catie writes. I remember being 16 in south Georgia at the river, one hot July day, swinging out on the rope into the cool water of the Blue Hole and losing my bikini top in front of more people than I would have liked. I remember jumping off the cliffs at the bauxite mines in Schley County, and I recall sitting at the baseball field with Wendy and Kiley drinking Route 44 cherry-limeades. Another trip to Mexico, this time with the Lizanas: para-sailing with Neil, and Danny and I getting caught by our fathers eating at McDonalds on the same trip. Being 17, driving from Americus to Saint Louis with Bianca and back, and a million roadtrips to Atlanta, Athens and Statesboro after.

Like Catie, I realize that the universe is not going to drop me on my ass. I can worry about the health of people I can't control and the local economy that directly impacts my own work, but why? I think about that girl from south Georgia, the one who drank Boone's Farm and Smirnoff Ice in the back of pick-up trucks and sang David Allan Coe and Willy Nelson all summer long...and how she would leap and trust that the net to appear. She never worried about anything, and she was fun, confident and safe. Where is she now?

After practice, I sit with Ann and discuss my summer practice options, and thank her for a wonderful class. I leave practice and regard my worries at the door: I look at my sister's divorce and leave it behind, along with my anxiety about the Pan Mass Challenge. I stare at my professional concerns and acknowledge that I will always have room for improvement, so I will cross the bridge when it appears. I contemplate the girl I was from south Georgia, the one I later weened off of brown liquor and onto vodka, then from Boone's Farm to Champagne. I've still got Willy on my iPod at least, and a Blackberry full of friends in Sumter County, so I am still that girl and haven't lost myself completely. I smile, lace up my sneakers and walk over to Tuck, who is waiting for me with a cup of coffee.

So Catie, thank you. You helped save me from myself and remind me of myself at the same time. And I needed that.