Of course there’s that old saying – and it’s apparently true – that the Sami people (NOT the Inuit, mind) have a vast array of words to describe snow.
Recently a certain reader of this blog (who never actually comments here and yet somehow, over the interwebs we’ve managed to strike up a friendship); wondered via IM, if my life must be going pretty well right now since I’m not blogging that much.
So I’ve been thinking about that idea that we only tend to write when things are not going well, or that we write less when we’re happy and life is great… I mean, when life is crappy, there’s a lot of material to work with, right? And when we’re happy, we’re happy. We tend to stop looking so hard when we’re in the zone of blissfulness. Right? Hmmmm…
I guess so. There’s a lot of anecdotal evidence to suggest this could be a real phenomena. But I don’t think that that’s what’s going on for me.
Don’t get me wrong. Life at the moment is stupendously good. So good I’ve started wondering if I’m a little bit crazy because who the hell feels THIS good on a regular basis? Ha!
Instead, it’s more that I’ve been going through endless cycles of transformation. My health. My yoga practice. My yoga teaching. My work. It’s this whole thing of coming back into my own power (as cheesy as it sounds, right?).
A whole new set of mantras for me: Power. Health. Vitality. Energy. Happiness. Joy.
I’ve got that feeling you get (yep, I still remember even though it’s been an aeon so it seems) when you first fall in love. That rush of hormones and the way the world looks extra-bright-and-shiny. Nothing’s too much trouble. Life is just rocking-ly good in every possible way.
It’s like I’m getting to know happiness, as you would someone you’re dating. My own happiness – generated by my experiences in the world instead of being brought on by the close proximity of someone I’m dating (because readers of this blog know that I’m still 100% date-free, sadly).
And like the aforementioned snow, I’m finding that there are many shades of happiness to be discovered.
Like… pleasure to be alive that closely resembles a hive of jumping beans living just under my skin, grooving to the rhythm of their own funky tunes.
Or the way the moon glows and sends special secret just-for-you winks as it glints in the inky silver highway of the universe.
And how things I already enjoy that usually make me happy in that run-of-the-mill contented puppy kind of way (yoga, kirtan, being in nature, hanging with niece-lings etc)? Yeah, well now those things bring on all kinds of crazy highs.
I walk a little straighter. More and more, people stop me in the street to ask for directions as though I’ve got an “Ask For Help Here” neon sign blinking over my head. Strangers compliment my smile and I can’t remember the last time that happened before now.
Or this: one of my regular yoga students (someone I’ve felt a little connected to for a while now) suggesting we have lunch together and then refusing to let me pay. She made my head spin with compliments on my yoga teaching (I’m still such a newbie teacher you see) and tells me I’ve helped her so very, very much. We agree to hang out again some time.
I find myself asking: who is this person with all of this good stuff going on? She doesn’t resemble the reflection I’ve seen in the mirror for the past few years very much. In fact, my current reflection doesn’t resemble that old image of me at all…
This. This much happiness.
It’s crazy. As if I’ve fallen in love.
And perhaps I have. Only this time, it’s got nothing to do with the glory of some tall, dark ‘n’ handsome hottie admiring my many fine qualities. Or endless make out sessions that make a girl flush with glee. Or all the rest. You know.
What’ve I got instead?
Well, there aint no one else around to fall in love with except my own self.
Seems that 2012 is the year for developing a bit of self-love, eh?
It’s good stuff people, I tell ya!