Instead of strawberry pop tarts...

As an update, I was laid off twice in a year. The field I built 9 years of expertise in doesn't really exist anymore. I am currently working a job I enjoy, but the hours are far from ideal. Money is tight. Working evenings and weekends has me isolated and lonely. I processed this a few nights ago with an Instragram caption that hit too close to home. So I brought it here instead. Photographs are from the practice I discuss.

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I had a quite a string of good days. But my work schedule has felt especially restrictive this weekend. I missed two annual parties that I love. Our tree decorating process has been broken up into days because we just aren't home at the same time. And I just don't know when or if it will change.

I wanted strawberry pop tarts out of the vending machine. But instead, I went to the wall in my office. 

As I moved, I allowed my mind to just go.

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I let the fear and the worry and the anger just go. I didn't fight it. I didn't argue with it. I just allowed it. All I want to do is cry and hide. And I didn't do either of those.

I think it comes down to this. I have had really hard holiday seasons in the past decade. Two in particular. But I still had joy. I still had love and light and joy and family and friends. But this year, I feel like it is happening without me.

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I know things could be worse. I know I could not have a job. And I am thankful that I have a job. But that doesn't mean that I can't be sad and lonely too.

One of the biggest things that I have learned from my yoga practice is that I can hold two opposing things at once. A physical practice can leave me feeling both challenged and rested. I can feel pushed and still relaxed. I can be thankful and sad. I can feel blessed and overlooked.

At the same time.

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Can I be a truth-teller and a helper?

Some of you know me from years and years back.

Back when I was so vulnerable. When nothing was off-limits. When the hard stuff flowed just as freely as what-I-ate-today posts.

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But somewhere along the line, I got scared. I want to be a voice of support and encouragement for you. I want you to trust me with your own stuff. I want to be a helper. And, because of that, I have been reluctant to share my own shit. Because will you really trust me to help you if you see what a mess my inner workings are?

I hope so.

I am making a conscious decision. I am making a statement. A few, actually.

I will write more. I will not be afraid of the truth. I will not be afraid of letting you see me messy.

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I wish I could say that I am making this statement as a victorious battle cry. That it is a middle finger to those that may think I'm weak or incapable of helping anyone else. But that's not the case. 

I am writing again because I need to write. I need to speak. All of this yoga is knocking all of the cobwebs off. And I am ready. 

I am rusty, my friends. Please stick with me.

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