That coupled with not sleeping well, replaying the events of two years ago as I tried to sleep, trying to sit with the images and sensations, allowing them space to process, the two times I did make it to my mat last week, I was no better than lead weight attempting to move through molasses and some semblance of the asana sequence. Case in point: D had me stop at Mari-C last Thursday after I completely foo-barred the Janu sequence and to be honest, I'm almost positive I missed a couple earlier asanas.
Traveling, letting go, returning to New England, and seeing a different colored green was much needed.
* * *
Saturday morning I woke, bright and early - 4 am so I could catch my cab to National and be there promptly at 5am. Upon arrival, I look at the departure screen and I didn't see the departure time for my flight. I saw the flight number, it wasn't the correct time. I was just going to proceed to the gate, but thought better of it and went to the ticket counter to inquire as to the change. As I walked to the counter, SakaPinda mat bag on my back and small weekend tote in tow, I looked at my boarding pass and it didn't look quite right.
I figured I was just tired.
Then it dawned on me like a hammer falling from the sky.
I MADE MY FLIGHT RESERVATIONS IN REVERSE?!
I was currently supposed to be at TF Greene, in Rhode Island - flying to National. Ha! After talking with the ticket agent and laying the blame of the ticketing snafu squarely on the shoulders of my secretary (never mind that I am a/the secretary) it would have cost $1,170 to correct this error.
Call me crazy, but I'm not interested in paying that amount of money for what would total, round trip, approx. 100 minutes in the air.
The Mathematician and the Artist checked the Amtrak schedule and there was a regional train leaving Union Station at 6:20am. I could just make it and did. I've always enjoyed traveling by train - save for the Columbia Law student who sat next to me and proceeded to have the same loud drama-filled phone conversation at least 10 times between New York Penn and Mystic, CT where I met up with the Mathematician and the Artist.
The whole plane debacle became a great lesson in flexibility and creativity, remembering that there are always multiple solutions and the initial error, set up for a wonderful weekend. Forcing me to relax on a train as it wound it's way up the eastern seaboard. The weekend was full of wonderful food, from local restaurants with fresh local ingredients and fresh baked goods, to practicing mat to mat at SPY, going to a new-to-me shala for a led full primary class, to catching up with close friends I hadn't seen in ages.
If I had to pick a single solitary highlight to my weekend, I would have to say the time spent with Lady Apollo.
We hadn't seen each other since the Parson's and my wedding in August 2006. Sure, we've talked on the phone but there's something to be said for seeing someone in person. It's an understatement to say that a lot has happened since then. Laying on our backs soaking in the late summer RI sun in the Sculpture Garden behind RISD admissions, she hadn't realized the scope of everything that had happened. Simultaneously, I came to some further realization of how much 5 months of my life, two years ago has affected me and my path.
This was the first time in a long while that I shed tears for Parson and outwardly and publicly showed my grief, my pain, and my passion for living all that life has to offer.
Om Namah Shivaya.