Staying Centered

Oh, people, people, people. Quiet confidence is a fleeting thing.

When I was younger and still went to church pretty regularly I used to say this little prayer that I found in the back of my Book of Common Prayer, and it was a prayer for quiet confidence, compassion and an open heart. Very Zen, for an Episcopalian, no? It's one of my favorite prayers, next to the one for church musicians (my dad being an organist and choir director), the 23rd psalm, and the prayer for world leaders. That last one I'd say grudgingly, since even as a teenager I was pissed that our "elected" leaders weren't leading (or, for that matter, elected) our country, but instead ransacking it for their own gains.

Anyway, back to my lovely prayer for quiet confidence.

Last week, it seemed like I had achieved that centeredness, that calm but potent feeling that comes with quiet confidence. I could see clearly how to achieve and maintain balance - in my body, in my relationships, in my own mind - and instead of aknowledging those steps and then going to watch a movie, I actually took a couple.

I began my yoga practice again after a three year hiatus. I didn't eat anything that wasn't good for me (or at least I didn't eat anything that was fried), and I tried every day to be generous with my heart and to love my people wholly, especially CL.

We went to the farmer's market and got locally grown, organic, SEASONAL produce, and wonderful bread from On the Rise bakery, and I tried to make us both into virtuous, healthy humans by eating our whole grains, lean protein and lots of fruits and veggies. This slight smugness and extreme satisfaction with our gastronomic choices then lead to the desire to maintain our healthful bodies by continuing to do yoga, walk or otherwise work out the accumulated lactic acid derived from a life of sitting, and these activities in their turn bring a sense of well-being via endorphins and all that other great brain chemical stuff. Our improved physical health would make us happier people, able to enjoy each other's company and look clearly toward our future with anticipation and quiet confidence.

Mmhm.

I ate barbecued ribs, coleslaw and a gob of mashed potatoes last night, followed by a largeish hunk of coconut merengue pie. I suck.

Frankly, Sunday was HARD. My quiet confidence was shaken by a heated discussion with CL (it sounds like we fight all the time, but we don't. Not really. This place is poison for us, though, and we're so anxious to get out of it that tensions have been running high.) and even though we climbed around on some rocks and hiked a bit of a mountain, then walked through a garden full of indigenous plants talking about what we'd like to do with our new patio space in order to clear the air, I still felt low, congested, heavy - not at all confident. We both needed some more comfort, and for us, food is the surest way we know to make each other feel better. So we headed to the gourmet grocery for a pie under the pretense of getting a drink after our hiking around.

Could my blip with the pie on Sunday have begun this downward spiral I'm experiencing? Could the ribs I ate last night really affect my whole outlook on life in general, so that I feel like I'm floundering and hopeless, despite the clearly defined future plans laying before me?

Okay, so I'm not that bad off, but still! That sense of weightlessness, of clarity and precision, a feeling of slightly prickly potential energy coursing through me is gone, or at least very subdued.

Maybe I need to go back to the market and pick up some more strawberries. Maybe I should toss the remaining pie and call it a loss. Maybe I just need to shut up and go do some more yoga :-)

Love,
Moi