One thing I learned in college was how to say bellybutton in French (not the kind of thing business majors come away with). It’s a good thing too, because I went to my first yoga class yesterday and the entire thing was in French. If I hadn’t gone to college, I wouldn’t have known that I was supposed to be breathing through my bellybutton. Or something like that.
Taking yoga has been on my to-do list for around 20 years. Why did I wait so long? The same lame reasons we all come up with. I never seemed to have the time, money, and motivation all on the same day. Plus I always tended to avoid all that energy flowing through you kind of stuff. Still do. But when my marriage ended and my only child left home in the space of a year, something happened to me. It was major. It was one of those times when (other) people find God. I realized on an other-than-intellectual level that now is all we have. So I decided not to waste any more now.
The only other people I know who figured this out are dead. When Joel, my best friend from the age of 16 found out that he had AIDS, he built a greenhouse and started growing orchids. When my dear friend Kim found out at 28 that she had breast cancer, she abandoned her master’s thesis, bought herself a Harley, and went on a photo safari in Kenya. Joel died a couple of weeks after he turned 29. Kim was 39.
I had that epiphany. I had my friends’ examples. I have balls. That’s how I ended up leaving my job, family, friends, my dollhouse at the beach, my beautiful city (San Diego), and my country (that bit wasn’t at all difficult, I have to admit) and following my bliss to Paris. Maybe Buddhist monks can get to this place just by breathing through their bellybuttons, but it sometimes seems like the rest of us need a slap in the face to wake up.
I don’t know why I’m writing this. It’s nothing like the other stuff I write. Maybe it’s for the people I know who are just going through the motions. It breaks my heart. Maybe it’s to remind myself I never want to let the dust settle around me again. Maybe I just want to tell you to take the piano lessons. Go to Machu Picchu (Kim did). Learn to fly a plane. Don’t wait for some horrific catalyst before you figure out that you’re only half alive. Sorry to quote tennis shoes but, you know, just do it. Be alive.
The yoga class was just what I expected it would be. It was incredibly relaxing and it put me in a great mood. Today I feel taller.
I’m still working up the nerve to bust out the rollerblades here in Paris. But I will.
I admire your courage.
I’ve also lost people that I never imagined losing, but found it much harder to pick up the pieces, no matter how many activities I started.
Guess it helps to have a caring partner ;-)
so how do u say bellybutton in french?
Nombril. Le nombril. ;-)
[...] I was a volunteer “buddy” to PWAs for AIDS Services of Austin in 1990, shortly after I lost my best friend to AIDS. I did some graphic design and other work as a volunteer for an educational nonprofit in Paris when [...]