Grateful: Day 52 - Thank You

Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you.

Thank you.

Thanks.

Ta.

x

Today went well. I got the chance to present what I'd like to do in a workshop session. I didn't think I'd been worried about it, and worried isn't the right word, actually. I wasn't worried, but it was on my mind. I had ideas for it and I hoped they would hit the spot, but it's hard to be sure how much what I'm excited about might obscure my judgement about what is right for the people involved.

It went well. I really enjoyed our conversation, which started with a fag outside (not me, obviously) and a chat about The Killing II, and then continued with an open, honest, stress-free run-through of the ideas I had for the session, a bit of explanation of the content and a lot about the intentions behind them.

If the event itself goes half that well, I'll be very happy indeed. Twice as well will be absolutely acceptable too, of course. No need to hold back. I'm really looking forward to it. Of course, I'll be nervous, but I must remember that this is what I love. I just adore doing this. This is when my work really does feel like play, and all the things I've been doing all these years converge to create something really satisfying, that engages all the senses and more, and makes a difference. I say again. Thank you.

I did say it on the way down the stairs after the meeting too. A lot. Thank you.

And that's not the only thing. It's Monday. It's yoga. Oh yes.

On about Wednesday last week, or maybe Friday, I thought to myself that my normal yoga teacher wouldn't be there this week. I think it was triggered by all my over-excited home practice. I imagined (oh, this is suddenly embarrassing to confess) telling him that I'd done some and I thought how giddily proud I'd be, and then I thought 'you won't tell him, because he won't be there'.

Just to clarify, he hadn't said. Or I don't think he had. On the way there, at the cashpoint, it came again. He's not going to be there. Nevertheless, when I walked in and saw someone else, the fact that I wasn't surprised didn't stop me being a little bit disappointed.

I set up, got a mat (not my usual pink one - someone else got that - ha!) and thought at the man 'right then - what have you got'. Very yoga. Very bliss. And off he went. Spanish accent (or possibly Italian). I might be wrong about both. Shortish and stocky. Sparkling eyes, just like my usual teacher.

He asked whether we'd talked at all about the chakras and I nearly said (or possibly did say) 'we talk about them every week', like a petulant teenager. It's a blessing I didn't add 'Duh!'. Such bad behaviour! I was probably smiling though.

Then a big opportunity stood up in front of me and waved its arse in my face. Two, actually. Firstly, I thought 'what if I just listen to what he has to say, and find out what his way is'. It was already different in style to our normal teacher, so instead of comparing, how about just listening.

That was number one. Number two (MUCH bigger arse), was that I get to see whether this little crush (which I'm aware will probably pass - back to that in a bit) was colouring my taste for this class. Am I loving this class the way I am because of this. Has the 50/50 slipped into something that's more on the personality of this one person than on the content of the class?

I once went on an internet date with a man who had dogs. Two of them. Rebus, a lanky streak of deerhound, loper of the century and Breeze, a compact little pointer girl-dog with a full-on beard. I bloody loved them, I did.

I ignored all sorts of precautions because of those dogs. Or just because of dogs in general, really. When I agreed to meet, I hadn't met them yet. He picked me up at North Ealing station and we drove half an hour or so in his car to Virginia Waters to take them for a walk. It was a really good date - we walked, on and off, for five hours, and talked, and played with dogs. I had a lovely time.

Nevertheless, I had a suspicion, so I engineered it so the next date would be ohne dogs (he was German - I'd forgotten that bit). We went to the flicks, then possibly for food. Can't quite remember, but I do know that buzz wasn't there. After that, a great big no-no happened - his proud confession of what he considered to be justified violence against someone who was too drunk to protect himself - and that was that. Deal-breaker.

And all that to say, I was concerned. This yoga class is really doing great things for me. Or is it just a teacher crush? Let's see. The combination of one and two kicked in. This new teacher had humour, warmth, a very gentle voice ('too fluffy', said my comparing head, 'shut up and listen to what he's saying', said some bit else) and he was very skillful.

And I loved the class. What a relief! I noticed that the calm of the first lesson was back, before my monkey mind took me away from the focus on the postures. I also noticed the same (well, similar - never quite the same) hot, present energy during adjustments. Such a good sign. And the eye sparkle, the settledness, the very engaging energy... all of that was present, but in a different way.

I could have danced. I nearly did. Instead, I smiled and cycled home. I felt at ease. Oh, and I chatted with the lovely couple who always come. They're ace, and very nice. Marta and Hugh. Hugh and Marta. Five weeks of nodding and smiling and I've only just asked their names.

I just want to say, weirdly, that today's teacher was also attractive, even though I didn't fancy him, but possibly that fact in itself (and my sister's comment earlier in the weekend that teacher crushes, especially in yoga class, are very common) helped me feel calm and happy and released about the whole business.

It doesn't take away from anything - or anyone - but I don't need to take myself too seriously (always for the best). And this yoga rocks. And if all the boys who do it are present, sparkly-eyed and foreign, I won't have a single complaint, I promise. Maybe that's what it will do to me. I'll become all those things (except, I hope, male). If I were to choose an accent to have for the purposes of yoga, I think it should be Polish. I'd like that. I'll give that one a bit of work, just in case.

And the thing is, that takes away the stakes, in a relieving way. There's no pressure. Just breath and stretching. The smiling can stay, and the listening. Who knows, next week we might have a lady. There's another experiment I can feel coming on.

I loved chatting with Ruth again tonight. So good to see her. And I'm grateful to have had Our Face here. Good news. Good times. Her mask is impressive, and she's left me the intact cast, so, with a few adjustments just for differentiation's sake (or not - it's a great cast and the paint job can change it all), I'll probably make another one with it.

And finally, all back to front, the pond. I was grumpy this morning. I missed my alarm (because, I later discovered, although I HAD set my alarm to repeat, I'd only ticked Thursday in the days list, so my alarm hasn't gone off since, well, Thursday. And it's taken me this long to work it out).

I had a lot to do. I was already late. I almost didn't swim, because I had such a lot to do and felt bad, but I missed it yesterday and will miss Thursday - Sat this week too, with awayness, so it had to be done, really. 7.5, apparently. All the ladies who'd just got out were telling me how cold it was, so I was expecting to squeak or swear, but today, the water was a silky gift. Not a shred of resistance. I felt like I was made of it and it was made of me, and after getting out, I was the queen of invincibility for many whole minutes.

On the way over the heath, I cycled past the men's pond, and two builders (I think) looking at the men swimming. As I got close, one said to the other 'makes me cold just to look at them - I can't understand why they do it.'. Well, you can imagine. Sandison, you're in my head again. It was just a little chat, I promise, though it did include something about ninjas and something else about Transformers with massive thighs. Aah, they didn't seem to mind.

And now, nearly done, I get to check out Reasons To Keep On Breathing. I've missed it, this weekend. I've checked before, today, and nothing was up. I have high hopes, after finishing this, for a feast of posts.

And just in case the message didn't hit: thank you.