Hello, I’ve been doing yoga once a week with Ample Movement. I love it so much, I’m like–how did I survive without this? My anxiety has gone down. I feel stronger physically, and I feel supported emotionally / spiritually in doing my life’s work. Wow, this weekly class is so good for my well-being.
Then I feel a little shaky, because to realize I need something is vulnerable. If I need it, I will suffer if I lose it. Uh oh.
I try to comfort myself that it’s ok to need. I try to have faith. If this brilliant, kind teacher stops teaching, I can find other yoga, or another super-helpful way to care for myself.
what I cried about during shavasana this week
During shavasana, I was crying like usual. This time it was about power. It dawned on me that I should make a regular feature of my blog called “what I cried about during shavasana this week.”
The power thing was about health and bodily freedom. So much lately about abortion. But you know that’s been really important to me for a long time. For me, abortion is similar to psych meds. My body is mine, and I need to keep my personal power.
Every time I walk into a doctor’s office, I sense I’m supposed to hand over my personal power. If I don’t, the doctor is offended. The doctor wants respect more than anything, sort of like a cop. The doctor has a huge ego trip. I can’t treat them as a consultant or advisor–I need to treat them as the boss.
But I don’t want to hand over my power to anyone. I live with myself–I spend all my time with me. Because of their years of schooling, hopefully they know more than I do about physiology. But they don’t know much about my unique body, my life, my background, the foods I eat, the movement I do.
The part that felt so sad to me all of a sudden was how in a doctor’s office I’m supposed to hand over my personal power, and I really don’t want to. But in a yoga class, I don’t have to hand over my personal power. I’m given options and told “wiggle your fingers and toes, if that feels good.”
In a yoga class, I’m not required to hand over my personal power, but I like to. It actually works well, to put myself in the hands of this kind, brilliant person. She has my best interests at heart, and she is trustworthy.
It’s partly about attitude. My yoga teacher’s sense of self-worth isn’t tied up with how much I respect her. She has better things to do than worry about what I think of her, seriously. She can get her sense of self-worth from things other than how her clients feel about her.
But the truth is that she’s respectful, brilliant, and kind. So we’re happy to respect her back.
Anyway–power. I’m a middle aged, crazy, fat, queer, white woman with autism. I’m disabled and have no money. Power isn’t something I have a lot of.
All of that is related to abortion because taking away rights from people who might need abortions is taking away our power. Anyone pregnant who doesn’t want to be is in a vulnerable position. I’d like to care for vulnerable people and nurture them, not make life way harder for them by restricting their healthcare choices. That’s just basic respect.
My yoga teacher is so respectful, and it can hurt because so many people are not. To get what I need can make me cry, because I wish that wasn’t so rare.
Does it make you cry, when people are nice to you? Maybe getting your needs met by other people is commonplace. Maybe one day I could feel that way too.