"Orientating"

So, this afternoon we had orientation. "Orientating," I like to call it. I've spent the entire day orientating myself to the hotel, the logistics of where things are, the noise of the casinos, the slightly to mostly intoxicated people walking though the lobby areas. Lots of orientating today.

Rajashree (Bikram's wife for those of you who don't know) was the first to speak to us and welcome us all to the training. She was most inspiring, exuding kindness and love. I'm pretty sure she loves us all, and everyone is loving her right back.

We were introduced to the staff and each had something motivating and inspirational to say. What a great bunch of folks (who are going to try to kill us over the next nine weeks).

We had a very fancy dinner in one of the ballrooms tonight. A great treat, lots of food and more opportunities to meet our fellow classmates. The class is the biggest one yet. Three hundred and fifty-something. We felt very pampered. Even Bikram made an appearance at the end. Exciting to see him.

Tomorrow we gather at 10:30 in the lecture room with Bikram and then return at 5:00 for the first class. Bikram is teaching us and the excitement and anticipation is evident.

We are discouraged from blogging, emailing, texting, calling home too much. Discouraged from keeping in touch with our lives back at home. This is because they want us to be totally "here" and totally engaged. We are encouraged to take this time for ourselves, to really be present in this nine week experience of a lifetime, to allow this time just for us.

And while I understand this, I don't want to cut off totally for a couple of reasons.

One reason being that the former bloggers who shared their experiences online enabled me to feel like there was someone else out there like me who survived this training. Someone who I could relate to. For that reason, I hope to continue to record my experiences. Maybe I'll be someone who a future trainee relates to. So reason number one is for other people.

And of course, reason number two would be my failing memory, mentioned in previous post(s). I'd like to get this all recorded for my future self to enjoy looking back upon one day. Cuz she'll probably forget a lot of this. Maybe she'll have forgotten on purpose? Now that reason is definitely something I'm doing for myself, so I'm counting that as "all about me."

Reason three for keeping up the blogging? Therapy. It's theraputic for me to write, giving me an outlet for getting thoughts out of my head. Again, this reason seems like it's going to benefit me...so, I will hope to continue to blog.

Three reasons. That's enough. Time for bed now. Tomorrow looks to be pretty busy, as does the remainder of the week. I may not have time for another "therapy" session until the weekend. It'll be hard for me to leave my technology alone. Yet another "control" issue. But this is the goal from what the staff members all said tonight. Let go of whatever you come here with. Empty your cup. Turn it upsidedown and take a paper towel and dry it out. Let it air out some more to be sure it's really really dry. Put it down and just listen and observe things around you for a while. Eventually, over time, after you hit some sort of "rock bottom" that the experienced teachers are all talking about, you prepare to fill it up with more than you ever thought possible.

Day One..."orientating," is over. That's my word for today, by the way. Orientating. People told me that it's not really a word, but I figure if I can say "exactly forehead," I can say "orientating."

Am I Supposed To Be Somewhere?

Wandering around the hotel, exploring. Day One. I found a quiet spot in a seating area near the East Tower Elevators. Not many people, just one guy on another sofa studying dialogue.

Oops. Should I be studying dialogue?

I'm in a daze. I don't know what to do with myself right now. It's 11:00 and I've walked around the interior of the hotel to explore. Getting set to go outside now and see what the pool area is like, not that I want to be in the sun.

I feel like I "should" be somewhere. Doing something. But I don't know where. Or what. Or how to get there.

I spent the morning unpacking my things and doing a lot of arranging. For those of you who know me, you will smile and know that this process alone was a comfort and made me feel somewhat better about being here. I have places for my things now and everything is put away nicely, so I feel a bit "moved in." Amazing how the small processes like this make you feel comfort.

Susan the llama is on my bed. She looks very comfy. I'm glad that Mag chose her for me to bring along.

I just came through the elevator and the older couple who were getting out as I was getting in said a cheery good morning. They looked like they were so happy to be in Vegas. When I got in the elevator, I smelled Bloke. Obviously the gentleman had just had a fresh spray of Axe. Normally overwhelming enough to make me cough at home and become irritated, wondering if Bloke has some kind of olfactory problem that he doesn't realize how strong that smell is, it was a comforting scent for a change. I had to smile at my change of heart concerning this familiar scent. I'm making strides already!

Debating about how to get out and "stock up" on groceries, coconut water, other survival items. This is yet another step which I know will give me some comfort.

I'm sensing that I have some control issues. Not like I didn't know that...but I guess I just feel so OUT of control of everything right now that anything I CAN control is going to bring me peace. The only thing I have are my things. I can control them.

I'm so happy to have my laptop here. So happy that Mark thought of this. It's another comfort to me...makes me feel like I'm not so out of touch. Although I'm sure that part of this process is to take you OUT of "touch." I'll fight it as long as I can.

I think I should be studying dialogue. I think I should "be" somewhere.

Maybe just for these couple of hours, while I can, I should enjoy NOT having the schedule. I know it's coming. I know it'll be wearing me down soon enough.

So, maybe I am not supposed to be somewhere right now. Maybe, for now, I am supposed to be right here, on this sofa, in the quiet, just observing, thinking, being thankful for the chance to grow with whatever is in store for me in the coming weeks.

Oh...and the guy who was studying dialogue on the other couch? He apparently fell asleep (go figure) and was just tapped by the hotel security guard..."Can't sleep here!" Poor fella. He immediately got up and went somewhere...wonder if he's got somewhere to be?

Where's The Volume Button?

Well, landed here in Vegas last night after a long journey. Already I appreciate Mark more and how he deals with travel all the time. Not something I would be fond of doing on a regular basis.

I am wide awake at 6:00 Vegas time. Nine o'clock "my time." Wondering how Mark and Maggie are getting along at home. And the dogs. I miss them all.

Somehow being connected to the internet and having my laptop here is giving me comfort already. Feels like a friend.

The shuttlebus ride from the airport to the hotel felt like a movie. This city is unreal. Lights, noise. Lights, noise. Lights, noise.

My first impression is that someone needs to turn down the volume! Unfortuately I can't find a remote.

As we stopped at one of the hotels to unload passengers from the airport, a stunning young woman carrying a clipboard hopped on board and said to the bus driver, "You heading back to the airport?" She looked and carried herself like a Disney princess. I am not kidding. She sat down and struck up a conversation with me, as I was the only remaining passenger on the bus. Her job is to promote specials at hotels in Vegas for tourists who have just arrived, so she started to tell me about dollar margaritas and "free money" at another casino. I listened politely and when she asked how long I was here for...and I replied "9 weeks," she immediately gave me a look of sympathy...then wrote down her phone number and gave me a list of local grocery stores that were less expensive, told me that she didn't drink, didn't smoke, was celibate, was active in her church, and struggling with the fact that her job was to promote things she didn't believe in. All in the princess voice and with style and grace and I wanted to be her friend. She was very kind. She said to call her if I needed any advice about the area. "Nine weeks is a long time to be away from home in a strange place."

I'm keeping her phone number in case of an emergency. But unless she really IS a princess, I don't anticipate that she will be able to help me survive this. I think I have to help myself.

Today we meet for registration and orientation. I imagine that is when we'll get rules and instructions about what we can and can't do. Like blogging, for example, which is probably against the rules.

I have to communicate somehow.

It Started With Cake

Is it okay to be just a little bit excited? I'm wondering that today. I'm feeling just a little excitement today, although it's hard to allow myself to feel excitement cuz there is also the feeling that I am seriously stepping away from all of my responsibilities here. But...today, at least for just today, there is excitement.

It started with cake.

A pink cake.

With MY name on it!

Walking into the studio this morning as I have on many other mornings for the past two and a half years, feeling a little excited to see my 9:30 friends for one last class until Summer, I glanced up as I opened the door and there on the little table in the lobby was a lovely pink cake.

The cake was for me!

And it's not my birthday. Even on my birthday there isn't always cake. (That's a curse of having a Christmas Day birthday, but that, too, is another blog post for another day.)

So, at 9:15 this morning, I was already starting to cry. Just because of the cake.

Then I looked up and saw my 9:30 friends and teachers from the studio and they were happy to see me and of course, I had to cry just a little bit more.

Already.

I'm not even AT teacher training yet and I'm crying.

Fannie taught an amazing class today. It was full of funny stories, touching stories, great energy and laughter and music. She sang such a wonderful song during savasana. It's in my head today...Viva Las Vegas, special Bikram yoga lyrics added for special effect. She has the voice of an angel and I will remember that song for a long time to come. My only regret is that I didn't get a recording!!

It was lovely to see everyone after class as well and to receive so many well wishes. Again, I go back to what I discovered during my first yoga challenge...that this community of people is so supportive of each other and so accepting of each other...and everyone who walks in the door. It continues to amaze me. How lucky I feel to be able to become a bigger part of it.

I practiced some dialogue today with Jessica and got some good pointers as well as a great feeling that I'm gonna be okay with it. Coming from a teacher who has such obvious passion for the yoga and the "magic" that is the dialogue, that made me feel great. Although I had to stand up on the podium...which freaked me out a bit. But her encouraging words made me feel that maybe I would be able to memorize all that I needed to. Maybe I CAN do it after all.

I feel like I'm walking through these days and hours before departure and time is passing and it's not really registering. 1 day, 14 hours, 17 minutes, 3 seconds according to the countdown clock. I'm looking at myself going through the events of the day, checking off each one as they happen...knowing that "Now that that is over, I'm one step closer to actually going..." It seems like it's happening to someone else.

Watching Maggie eat a piece of that cake today, seeing the gleam in her eyes as she savored every bite and smiled, listening to me talk about my "bon voyage class" and try to explain to her who Elvis was...made me smile. She was most curious to know what Miss Jessica thought about my presentation of Half Moon, which Maggie has been helping me to memorize. She was glad to hear that I got a "good report" from my teacher.

And now, sitting in my quiet house and listening to my dogs breathing on the sofa beside me, knowing that it's my last bit of alone time for a long while, I'm just feeling content. And a little bit happy. A little bit sad. A little bit lucky. A little bit scared. What a great day.

And it all started with a lovely pink cake.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Knbh7TkX6A

To Be Continued

I told you it would be continued. That was not the end of the story. Can't let everyone off that easily.

So, after about a year of taking class and coming home from class all red-faced and sweaty and sometimes being tired and perhaps needing a nap or two once in a while...Bloke says to me one day, "How hard can it be? It's yoga!" (The "How hard can it be?" question is important and will come up again in a later post, I'm sure...like how something happens in the beginning of a mystery movie and you realize at the end..."Hey...that part earlier was important...")

While I refrained from totally freaking out on the poor fellow, I did suggest that perhaps he might like to try a class one day and then get back to me on how he felt about it. Took him a while, but he did go.

And then he went back!

And he continued to go again and again.

And, the biggest part, of course, is that he HAD to admit that it was, indeed VERY hard!

After a while of taking class, he said to me, "Hey...you ougtta teach this. You could teach this yoga and you'd love it! You're a teacher!" Awwww...how sweet. My husband is being nice and saying nice things to me like I could be a yoga teacher like the other yoga teachers who are, by the way, ALL fabulously fit and beautiful and YOUNGER than me. Isn't he nice? Isn't he supportive?

I wonder if he wants something? Giving me all of these props. Well, then again...he IS my husband and he IS supposed to think I can do stuff that I really can't do, right? He IS supposed to say "stuff like that" and make me feel good. Right? Right. I think that is in the husband job description.

So, "Yes, Honey...it would be great to teach yoga...but do you realize what is involved in becoming certified???"

When I explained to him that it was 9 weeks away for teacher training, and that the cost was significant, well, we both sort of laughed it off and that was that.

A few months passed and he mentioned it again..."You know we could do this if you want to do this."

"No we can't, Honey. Who will take care of all of the stuff that I take care of for us?"

"Well, I'm just saying that if you want this, we CAN make it work."

Again...how nice of him to be so supportive. But really. Me? A yoga teacher? Next to all of the fabulously fit and perfect and young teachers?? And really...what was he thinking about? Was he thinking clearly? Did he realize that doing this involved me being AWAY for 9 weeks? Me...who pays the bills, makes the food, shops for the food, takes care of the animals and the child, organizes everything around the house, does the laundry, etc., etc. If you are a mom and reading this, you know I could go on and on... Even if you are not a mom.

Again, there was dismissal. Yeah...it would be great, but let's get real.

So then, one day, as fate would have it, one of those fabulously fit and beautiful yoga teachers said something to me after class one day. "I was thinking about you all during class today. You ever consider going to teacher training?" she said.

Uh...wait, let me pick myself up from the chair that I just fell out of here in the lobby of the yoga studio.

"What?"

Then there was a conversation that went something like...

Karen: "You would be a great teacher."

Marcia: "What?"

Karen: "You could totally do this...I've been thinking about it for a while."

Marcia: "What?

Karen: "Seriously...think about it."

Marcia: "What?"

Marcia: "Okay...sure I'd love to be a yoga teacher. I used to love the "teaching" part of teaching, but I don't want to go back there cuz of all the "other stuff" that is involved. So, sure I'd love to teach. But ME...teach YOGA? Have you LOOKED at me??? I'm a short, middle-aged woman with at least 15 pounds to lose and you can't "see" any muscles in my body. I don't think I'm "qualified" for this position! Students won't find me "credible."

Karen: "You are more than qualified. Just think about it. I'll be there when you are a Bikram teacher one day. You'll see. And when you are, I'll be able to say, that I was there when..."

Marcia: "Well, thanks, Karen...but seriously?"

So, I mentioned this conversation to Mark when I got home that evening. He smiled and said, "I told you so...you should think seriously about this."

Then, slowly over time we talked about it on and off, for about the past year. Things got serious this past Fall and we came up with a plan (Plan A) for childcare and daddycare. Thinking it might work, I started talking to more of the teachers at the studio and, guess what?? They were MORE than supportive of me. Amazing! I started to actually believe that I maybe, possibly, incredibly...could DO this!!

Then Plan A fell on it's belly with a flop. Okay. I'm not going this Spring.

With Mark's encouragement, we came up with Plan B. A new plan for childcare and daddycare. After about a month of hopeful thoughts, Plan B also fell on it's belly with a flop. Okay. I'm not going this Spring.

We were talking about it one evening just about 2 months ago when Mark thought of Plan C. Plan C where he stays "grounded" from travel for 9 weeks, where we see if our wonderful baby-sitter who is practially Maggie's big sister is able to pick her up from the bus stop daily, and Mark comes home from work at a reasonable hour. This was all HIS plan. He, who travels for work, gets up at the crack of dawn for important meetings...he who works late every night. Uh...HIS plan.

Seriously?

"Well, we won't know whether or not to even move forward until you contact the sitter."

Which I then did.

And she then gleefully accepted the job offer.

And then...

Then...

Well, I had no reason NOT to jump in!

Except for all of my doubts. I continued to talk with all of my teachers. ALL were very supportive, but allowed me to come to the decision on my own. All of them shared their personal stories of "how they arrived at their decisions" and they were all inspiring and different and I realized that each one of them brings something to class that is their own special gift. Maybe I had something to offer as well?

What if I could show people that you don't have to be a "super athlete" like I thought you did in order to go to Bikram yoga? What if others like me found this yoga and tried it and if it did for them what it has done for me...physically, mentally..."what if?"

Well, that would be like...uh....Hey! Am I contributing to someone's well being? Someone other than my immediate family? Or maybe I can contribute to them as well as others? That might just make me feel pretty darn good. And it would make them feel pretty darn good. And when everyone feels good....things ARE good!

Amazing!

Talked with Mark some more. Brought up the subject with Maggie. She took it better than I anticipated. We talked it through and went over details of how things would work when Mommy was away.

I agonized for a few weeks. I went to the Bikram website and downloaded the application "just for fun" as my mom used to say when coaxing me to try on clothes that she liked and I didn't. I filled out the application. As days passed, I filled out a different piece of paperwork "just in case" and "just for fun" but I still hadn't sent any money in yet. THAT would make it a total committment. The money.

Well, about 6 weeks ago, Mark was traveling overseas and sent me an email message telling me to just stop agonizing. Telling me that I was so lucky to have something that I felt so passionate about as to make it a bigger part of my life and to share it w/ others. Telling me that I had nothing to lose. Telling me that he and Maggie would be okay. Telling me to just go get the checkbook and write a check, send in all of those "just for fun" forms. And just DO IT.

And, so I did.

And a few days later when I was in class one morning, having told the teacher that "I sent in my money," when she came to me at the end of class and said, "you don't mind if everyone knows...right" and then she announced it to the class...and my classmates ALL clapped and congratulated me, I felt, well...sort of overwhelmed. With joy. I felt that I had made the right decision. They also believed in me! How amazing!

And that, in a nutshell (or not, okay, okay, I know...) sort of sums up "how I got here." Today. Two days, 18 hours, 18 minutes, 3 seconds away from getting on a plane and making a big life change. A life change for me, for my family, and for my future students. I hope to be able to give them what the yoga has given to me. It's truly a life-changing tool.

I mean, look at me. Here I am changing my life. Amazing. I can hardly believe it's me doing this. It's like watching a movie of someone else.

Hope she does okay. I'm rooting for her.

How'd This Happen?

So, one of my dear friends asked such a simple question today. Simple, but one that I don't think I've given much consideration to. "How'd you get here?"

How, indeed.

So, in an effort to document the "how" of where I am right now at this moment, about to do something way of my comfort zone, something I never thought I'd be capable of doing, I will attempt to write it on paper. Or, rather, on a modern version of what appears to be "paper."

Just about three and a half years ago, when Maggie entered kindergarten, I guess I must've decided to take my life back. I started exercising and attending Weight Watchers meetings, started losing the weight of the previous five years, all accumulated due to stress of quitting a job, having a baby, moving to an apartment, building a house, moving to the house, being overwhelmed by the amount of work facing us in the new house. All of it had caused me to pack on the pounds and it seemed that I was finally ready to take them off again, get back to a healthy lifestyle. Which was very successful for about 6 months.

Then I had an injury. Started creeping up on me...my ankle feels funny. Oh...a week later, my ankle feels even funnier now. Another week...hey! My ankle hurts. Maybe I better lay off the gym activities for a while.

Another week...but wait. If I lay off the gym activities, I'll start to pork up again. (I know..."pork up" is not attractive...it's just what came to mind.)

So, I continued with moderate "gym" activities. And walking.

Until I couldn't do either of them anymore without pain. Couldn't walk across the room without pain. The room of my still undecorated house...the one that caused me to eat? That's the one.

So, off to the doc I went. Then to the orthopedic doc. Then I got a pretty isolation boot to wear and I entered into the world of physical therapy. At this point, I can't remember what happened with my weight, but I do know I was a bit panicked...if I can't exercise, I'll surely pork up again!! Oh no. This can't be "it" forever! Here I am in mid life...wearing an isolation boot and people are calling me ma'am!

I swam laps at the gym. I sat in the steam room afterwards. Even the laps made my tendons ache, though.

At this point, I started thinking about sweating. I missed sweating. I missed the sweatiness of my spinning classes. I didn't know how I would ever get that sweaty post exercise feeling of having worked very hard and done something so great for my body. HOW was I going to work up a sweat if I couldn't even walk across a room or swim a lap without pain, for goodness sake!

Things just happen when they are supposed to happen.

I had been talking to a friend who loved Bikram yoga. She was (is) a super athlete. A runner. And yet, she assured me that I could do it. "Oh, sure...I'm not a runner. I'm not even a walker at this point!"

But, desparate to sweat, and liking the happy feel-good, zen-like mood that my gym yoga classes gave me, I thought...I'll just give it a try.

Walked in one day. Took a class. Thought I was gonna die. Or hurl.

But I didn't.

And, being a "good student" and a "rule follower," I listened to my teacher who said, "Come back again tomorrow...no matter how you feel." Besides...she scared me! I was afraid to NOT do what she said! She was not "happy and zen-like." She was kinda bossy, actually, standing up there in the front of the class and telling us all what to do and when to do it and to push harder and keep pushing and don't stop pushing or pulling or sweating or smiling... But then she was happy and zen-like after class. She told me to come back tomorrow. And I did.

And the second class was still hard. Thought I was gonna die again. Or hurl again.

But I still didn't.

And I had another happy but firm and motivating teacher for class on that second day.

Repeat...I went to class four times that week, my "introductory come as many times as you can" week. I wasn't in love, in fact, I was mystified. This was not the happy yoga of my gym. This was not the yoga where we chant "om" before or after our postures. This wasn't "happy yoga." This was well, okay, I admit that I used this term a few times in my early days of Bikram hot yoga...this was "bitchy yoga." But for some strange reason which was yet to be revealed to me, I found that when I left the yoga class, I had no pain in my ankle! I felt great. I had energy. I had no pain in my ankle. I could walk around for the rest of the day without pain in my ankle!!!

What was the cause of this?

Had the tendonitis simply vanished?

Or...did the heat of the yoga room have something to do with it all? Or the meanie teacher? What was she doing up there talking a mile a minute and ordering us all to do stuff and not letting anyone talk or rest. Where'd my tendonitis go???

Let me just try this a few more times, I thought. And each time I felt better and better. Not only did my ankle improve, but my whole body, inside out, felt great. This is amazing! And, hey...look around! Sure, there are super athletic people in this class with me, but there are also "regular" people, just LIKE me!! And, hey....maybe the teacher isn't so bitchy after all. Maybe my "other" yoga classes are just "too happy."

Even I am laughing at that one.

Could this yoga be for "everyone?" Who is this Bikram guy and what is his deal??? Where'd he get this yoga and how can I make it a bigger part of MY life so that I can feel this good for a long long time?

The answer to that was the annual membership, of course. After several months of purchasing 10 classes at a time, I figured out that it would be more economical to buy the "unlimited monthly" pass, which I did. Then it became the challenge of "if I go more times per month, I'm really paying so much less per class."

This is about the time that Bloke started taking classes with me. But that is another story for another day...part two will follow. Even I am tired of reading this post...but I don't want to leave too much out. Cuz my memory is failing (see previous post) and I'll need this in order to remember it all one day, eventually, in the future....

Memory Issues And Last Whatevers

Okay. Now I've posted a link on Facebook to this site. I think I did that so successfully that I'm going to have to actually write something here now. Over the past week, I have...

I have...

I, uh...forget what I was going to say.

Just like that.

This is my new reality. I can't seem to focus or think clearly. I'm sort of moving through time and not really feeling like I'm "in" it.

Oh. Now I remember.

I have read some other blogs from previous teacher trainees and I have found them to be most helpful in many ways. Most are comforting and I can relate to many of the people who had many of the same feelings I am experiencing the week just prior to leaving.

Except for the memory thing. I haven't come across anyone who's had that yet. And, I'm pretty sure that I'm gonna actually need the memory thing because I have forty-four pages of dialogue to memorize here.

The bedroom project that we undertook in January is now at a stage where we can stop and live like adults instead of feeling like college students with our clothing in cardboard boxes. The second floor is now back to normal and my life does not involve painting, sanding, spackling, or glazing any/all walls and furniture from the room. Thank goodness. I have this week to pack, go to yoga class, study dialogue, and get together with friends and family.

And think about how everything I'm doing is the "last insert-whatever-activity-you-like" here. I'm starting this thinking in my head already. This is my "last Sunday night at home" for a while. Next Sunday I'll be in Las Vegas. Me.

I'm looking forward to a week of "lasts." I find myself appreciating them more, whatever they are. Last Sunday morning of church and Panera with Mark and Mag.

Last Sunday to make the school lunches for the week. Oh oh. Which I forgot to do. See the part about the memory issues above!

Gotta go and make my to-do list for tomorrow. It's the "last Monday I'll have to myself" for a while. Need to write down what I want to accomplish. So I won't forget it all!