shift in perspective

one of the hardest
aspects of cooper's death
for me to wrap my head around
is the fact that we were not there.

ph and i had stepped
out to get coffee
after checking in on cooper,
seeing the surgeon,
and getting the update
from his nurse.

everything was great.
i remember crying and
the surgeon said to me
"dont cry, he did great."

after some encouragement
we ventured down to get
coffee and make phone calls.
we were not gone long.

when we walked back onto
the floor, i noticed a team of people
around cooper's bed.
i said something to ph.
my brain had not caught up
with what my eyes were seeing.

ph saw them administering cpr.
they asked us to wait outside.
it was then that i realized
our road was going to get really bumpy
and later the road would cave in all together.

my brain will never forget
the sequence of events as they unfolded.
but my perspective is shifting with time.

i have always felt so guilty
that we were not there
when his heart stopped.

i wonder if he knew
what was happening.
did he feel alone?
was he scared?

intellectually, i know that
he was heavily medicated
and did not suffer.
but the heart of mother
can play tricks on the mind.

the lesson in yoga the other
night was about the road.
our own personal journey
and how as humans we sometimes
think we are on the wrong path, but
it is really the right one for us.

this changed my perspective.
things unfolded as they were destined
to unfold, as hard as that is for me to admit.
us, not being in the room
when cooper's heart stopped was a gift.

we did not have to hear the alarms
we did not have to see the heart monitor go flat.
we did not have to see or hear the stress on the team's voices.
we saw enough when we walked back in.
we have enough images and details of that day to last a lifetime.

my shift in how i view that detail of december 18th 2008
does not make my heart hurt less.
it does not make me love cooper any less.
it simply allows me to accept  i was exactly
where i needed to be.

spirit of a storm

sunday mornings i
attend yoga at 10 am.
it is an open level class.
this means that is challenges me.
really challenges me.

it is taught by erica.
she taught my new to yoga series
and is well awesome.

she is an english teacher in her day job.
i connect with her teaching style.
its full of stories, quirkiness and lessons.

so sunday morning yoga is more than yoga.

this time of year is hard.
as much as i love fall,
it is hard for me.
the storms build
and i find myself trying to
manage them in various ways.

some days i am able weather them.
some days they get the best of me.
and some days the sun shines brightly.

they are part of who i am.
they are a part of my story.
they are the fabric of my life.

it stormed like crazy yesterday
which seemed to match my mood.
yoga was all about storms, breathing
through them and not being alone in the storm.

thank you sweet friend
for giving me a new place
to weather the storm.

the breath

when was the last time
you paid attention to your breath?
i am referring to the breath
that moves in and out of your body.
your life force.

i have always taken
breath for granted.
never paid much attention
to it, until i started taking yoga.

it is the center of yoga.
the movements and poses
follow the breath.
we pay attention to the air moving
in and out of or body through
the nose.

i have noticed that when
a pose becomes challenging
i stop breathing.
i wonder if i do that off of my mat?

i have a hard time
at the end of class
being still,
letting my mind rest.

it wanders
i make list
i think about blog topics
sewing projects.
i stop following my breath.

last night, i made the commitment
to really try to stay present
at the end of class
to not wander.

i was not sure how
i was going to accomplish this task.
but i was committed to trying.

i found myself, saying the names of my boys.
cooper on in inhale.
chace on the exhale.

they are my life force.
my reason for being.
by focusing on their names
with each breath i was able
to stay present, in the moment,
on my mat.
and my mind rested.

this got me thinking
how much more would
i experience if i paid more
attention to the breath during the course
of my day?

so i will ask again
when was the last time
you paid attention to
your breath?

heart center

i have had the heart
on my mind lately.
both the physical heart
and the figurative heart.

cooper's imperfect heart.
chace's perfect heart.
both the size of a walnut
when they were born.

this organ that is
in the center of the body.
the life force,
the work horse
of the human body,

my heart that i guarded
so carefully
until i met ph.

it was battered
and bruised over the years.
leaving me cautious
about leaving it unprotected.

i learned how much
my heart could love
when my boys were born.
and how much it could break, hurt and ache
when cooper died.

i learned how through
hard work, love, and patience
it can mend.
not heal but mend.
stitched together carefully.

i learned that despite
such a trauma,
it can love completely
again, if not more fully than before.

in yoga, the goal is
to be centered, grounded.
i start each practice
at heart center
and come back to throughout the class.

opening up.
being unguarded
exposed.
vulnerable.

and when i think i can
not open up anymore.
i think of cooper.
our hearts forever connected.
a string pulling my heart
closer to his.

and by opening up,
i am closer to him
and thus a better parent,
wife and friend.

casual observations

i have not been practicing yoga very long.
probably a month,
and i would not call myself a yogi,
but i have made some casual observations.


** i like yoga gear way too much, this is problematic only because it is "spendy" (as athena would say)

** there are some days when yoga is fun, uplifting and exhilarating.

** there are other days, when i just want it to be over.

** no matter which day it is, i always feel stronger after a class.

** i like quirky yoga teachers, technical yoga teachers.

** i do not like the more stereotypical yoga teacher.

** i am not still not good at being still.

** i am not a fan of the incense they burn before class.

** i love that the room if heated to 90 plus degrees.

** i love that i sweat.

** the me time is good.

** my body is beginning to crave yoga.

** i see this being a life time practice, which is cool.

** the thought of being able to accomplish "full wheel" seems daunting, but i hope some day i can....

** i love yoga more than i thought i would.

stillness

i have a hard time being still.
i fidget.
i knit.
i embroider.
and if i not doing those.
i squirm.

physical stillness is hard for me.
mental stillness is harder.
i have a to do list on my phone.
sewing lists on by sewing wall.
recipe lists in the kitchen.
and a million lists in my brain.

my mind is always moving.
it does not like to be still.
i have always been a type a personality.
but the discomfort that come with stillness
has increased since cooper died.

i guess it makes sense.
if i am too still
the thoughts creep in,
the images flash,
the sadness overtakes
and the tears flow.

i am going into my third week of yoga.
i have been going three times a week.
the physical aspect is hard.
but i like that, it makes me feel strong.
the sweat feels good.
like my body is crying big gigantic tears.

but the stillness is really hard for me.
especially at the end of class.
when we lie there in darkness.
being present.
being still
listening to the sound of our breath.

my mind wanders.
my toes twitch.
and my eyes open.
i am so relieved when that part is over.

i am hoping that this practice
will help me learn to not only tolerate
but welcome the stillness.
and that being still physically and mentally
will become a welcome state, rather than one of discomfort.

sun salutations, sweat and tears

thursday night i attended
a new to yoga class.
it is a three week class
for those who are brand new to yoga.

i was nervous
intimidated
and a little skeptical
about the idea of practicing yoga.

i told myself
it would be good for me.
it would help my back.
and give me some "me" time.

it was less awkward
than i thought it would be
the teacher was great
and i cant wait to go back next week.

the only real hiccup
was that i cried.
yes, i said i cried.

it was the end of class
and erica was taking us through
the meditation part of yoga.
i dont know what it was
but the tears started.

i tried to keep it in check
so that people would not
know i was crying and think
i was a total nut case.

but i am pretty sure
that erica noticed
the tears.

later that evening
i fell apart at the seams.
i was a mess.

i missed cooper.
my heart hurt.
i was sad.
i was angry.

the thing is,
my heart is scarred forever.
i do not have time
to think about what happened.
cooper's death does not
consume my every thought,
like it used to.

but it is still there.
it will always be there.
and sometimes it becomes too big
for the box that i keep it in
and the emotions overflow.

thursday night
i was still enough
to hear the box rattling,
for the emotions to break free,
and the tears roll.

i think that the mental practice
of yoga will be
just as important as the physical practice.
i need to learn to be still
without coming completely unglued.