So I’m feeling a bit more *zen* today. And after yesterday’s explosive rant I thought that in the interests of balance, I should share that information with you all…if only so you won’t think I am an alcohol-fuelled, rage-filled homicidal maniac. Because I’m not…most of the time. (Yesterday morning around 10 am being the rare exception obviously).
Nothing has really changed since yesterday, the situation still stands…I just haven’t had to deal with it, and have chosen not to think about it either and my mood has been much improved as a result.
It got me thinking about my last yoga class (which was now 3 weeks ago, thanks to shift-work and lack of childcare…grmbl, grmbl…oh wait, that’s not very zen…sorry!) My yoga instructor was urging us all to try and accept the drumming in the studio next door, rather than try to ignore it, or wish it away…telling us that we cannot control external forces, but we can control what we choose to allow to affect us.
Well shit me, she is on to something there! I swear, the minute I just gave in and thought “some dude is practicing drums next door…ah wells…” it totally stopped bothering me. In fact…and I am honestly not making this part up, I actually fell asleep a few minutes later. Seriously, I totally dozed off in Shavasana (I have no idea if that’s how you spell it by the way, I’ve only ever heard it said!)
Now I don’t like to think of myself as a control-freak or anything
(even though I am) but if we’re honest there’s a part in all of us that wants to be in control…of our bodies, our choices, at work, in life…whatever. Trouble is, it’s not always possible is it? I should know, having spent a significant portion of last year at the mercy of my own nervous system when it decided it would no-longer-be-functioning-thank-you-very-much…oh-by-the-way-that-means-you-can’t-move.
There’s still a part of me that hasn’t accepted my diagnosis, that thinks If-I-just-ignore-it-maybe-it-will-fuck-off. It’s the same part of me that seeks fairness when dealing with the tax credits office, and the same part of me that was initially wishing the drumming practice would relocate somewhere far far away from where I was practicing yoga. But at the end of the day, I do have CIDP, the tax credits system is a joke, and people ought to be allowed to practice their drumming when and wherever they please…well, certainly when they’ve hired out a studio in the middle of the day for it in any case. So I can go on wishing-it-weren’t-so, and refusing to believe it, and railing against the injustice of the whole goddam situation…but the person who ends up most affected by my fury will be me. Because I’ll be worried, stressed and probably depressed.
I’m not advocating lying down in the middle of the floor and doing some belly breathing every time a situation pisses you off (although if it’s safe to do so- feel free!) I just think I could do with remembering that while I cannot control everything that happens to me, I can control how I react to it.
So I may still choose to type a vast array of expletives in a row and call it a “blog post” but if that’s my way of coping, then it needs to make me feel better. I need to be able to hit the “publish” button, watch those expletives fly off into the ether and then get on with my life. Instead of then continuing to be a miserable bitch for the rest of the day. A challenge, I’ll admit…but one I am willing to accept.