It's often hard for me to determine which thoughts should be placed where. I document in varied forms, and lately, when I do document, it's mediocre effort. Meaning, details are left out, I don't fully commit and I only get it out for the sake of getting it out.
I noticed that when I pay attention to my breathing, I'm holding my breath and my stomach is clenched. This has been my normal for I don't know how long. So, in the past year, working from home, I've tried to pay more attention to it and remind myself to breathe. Practicing yoga makes it even more obvious that I spend most of my waking hours not breathing. How unnatural it is for me to breathe. What am I missing out on in my life by not breathing enough oxygen?
I recently got irritated that a dentist I saw asked if I was anxious after noticing my pulse rate. What do you know about me? Just do your job, I wanted to say.
I was reminded of one night when I was 18, sitting in the back seat of the car of a boy I was just beginning to despise. He drove me and his passenger-seat seated new girl-fling home. I was annoyed that he was driving me home. I was annoyed that I was in the back seat. Annoyed that I was just weeks away from graduating high school, months away from leaving shitty California, and just anticipating my new life awaiting for me in New York.
But for now, I was there. Trapped in his car, helplessly still holding feelings for him while trying to fight them. Anger made it easier for me to stop it all. He tried to make friendly small talk with me, as if we were strangers, despite our little history, and I hated that this new girl was there, listening, participating in a vapid, useless space. Am I excited to graduate? He asked. Am I ready to go to New York?
Just drive, I directed him.
They laughed but I saw a little hurt in his eyes from the rearview mirror. I felt terrible for being cold, but I didn't know how else to cope with 20 uncomfortable minutes.
I've spent most of my life closing myself off to many people because I felt that at the end of the day, they did not know who I was. I've met some wonderful people who have graciously tried to help me along the way when I have been open. Help I didn't understand at the time, and maybe they didn't either. Some of these relationships came and went, but their impact remains. It doesn't have to be so all-or-nothing, these relationships, their understanding of me. I realized that I spend a lot of time looking back, reflecting, and thinking to better understand who I was and who I therefore am. There have been recent times when I felt I knew (see previous entry), and newer times when I feel I just don't know (today).
So I am here today still learning to breathe.
