I am, in fact, very much alive and well. Perhaps too alive to keep up with a blog. To sit and write creates this weird conflict in my little brain. I don't want to recap my life, or even my thought processes. I want to do stuff. Y'know, live. Yes, I did just write that. How very high school of me.
The vertigo is long gone. I think I just pissed it off enough to make it leave. I told it it was no longer welcome, and it split. Fancy that. Except it's never really that easy. I've been sick more often this past winter than I have in my entire adult life. I've lost my voice not once but twice. (And the hippies often explain losing one's voice as a conflict over speaking one's truth.) Now I have a bum knee, again.
Someone once told me that if something isn't quite right in your life, it can manifest itself in your body.
I chafe a bit, wondering if I've made the right decisions for myself in recent days, weeks, months. I love teaching yoga. Really, I do. Somehow I've managed to keep myself honest and sane as I teach, and as I transitioned into studio ownership. But still... something's missing. Or something's taking up too much space, since I can't seem to keep my life under control.
I don't know. I didn't write this to clear shit up. I just wanted to post something new, finally. I intended to suss things out a bit more, but instead I spent my post-teaching morning comforting a friend who just put down her dog. Sad.