Me & my bestie, just bench-pressing each other. As you do.

I know, I know. I suck at consistency. I don’t even know what to blame, but I do know I don’t intend to accept it all myself. I’ve been super-busy, which I know is shocking to all who know me. I don’t even know how I do it, this keeping busy. Makes me think I’m hiding from something. But what…?

Anyway, I am now a yoga teacher. For really. I’m even certified by the Yoga Alliance. Certified, not certifiable. There is a small but distinct difference and it’s a pivotal one. In the former case, I can teach yoga to the world (or however many peeps show up at my classes). In the latter, however, I would find myself in a locked and padded room. Though I must say, that prospect is somewhat appealing, in that it would help me to overcome some personal issues; namely A) I couldn’t keep quite so busy, and B) in a padded room, I think I’d be much less cowardly in headstands.

Regarding headstands, a.k.a. my Everest, you’ll be pleased to know I’m all over ’em. As long as I’m all over ’em in my living room. At the studio, I’m still chicken. So weird. There’s more stuff for me to hit & break (myself included) in my living room, and yet, I can hang out on my crown ’til the cows come home. By cows, I mostly mean Hermes, who likes to hang out when I do yoga and walk underneath all my downward-facing dogs. I’m hoping this too shall pass. Jenni says her teacher in India would always say, “Do your practice: All is coming.” She also points out he never mentioned what exactly “all” referred to, but it’s good to test out the unknown.

Not sure how to get over that, but so far, I’ve taken to giving pep talks to my anatomy: “Come on abs–you can DO this!” So far, we get pretty good until I imagine the stunning dismount I would do if I went over backwards. Which I have done, just for the record. Safely roll/somersault out of it? Nooo, I do a half-back-handspring. And yet, I am still afraid. Weird.