Goodbyes

Those last moments together become suspended and frozen in time when we say goodbye. Big, hot sensations and a choking lump overwhelming the throat . The mysteriousness of life saturates the space as we look past the eyes to the souls behind them. Lots of questions flash through the mind about our destiny, chance and fate.

What will the next days, weeks and months hold for us on our separate, but connected journey?

When I see you again who will I be? Will life harden or soften me in the time in between?

And then there is that unsettling emptiness after the departure. A little numb, a little sad; the one left behind returns to the duties of the day while thinking about the talks, the experiences, and the exchanges. The last minute phone calls at the airport seem like a desparate attempt to reassure the connection through space and distance.

Lots of space. Lots of silence. Longing and love, love and longing go together in that Sanskrit chant, “Radhe govinda, govinda radhe.”

That is the WAY of it.

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I’m not drunk, but I just missed my mouth

Well, add another illness to the growing list of tropical diseases I’ve experienced here in the developing world: typhoid fever. Or at least that is what the blood test results vaguely showed. I still have my doubts. Explaining why would be too long of a story for this blog.

Since before Thanksgiving I felt dizzy, lightheaded, weak, unstable on my feet, and tired in a way that was unfamiliar to my body. In Spanish I would describe this feeling to my doctor as “borracha,”  drunk. I described it to my mother as “how you feel after having a high fever for several days.” She couldn’t relate. Drunk seems to get the point across more quickly.

I was at a Christmas party and I noticed that I kept missing my mouth when I sipped my wine. Interesting. Luckily, my summer dress was pink and burgundy.

I noticed I had to lean on the kitchen counter in the mornings while making coffee, as if I were on a fishing boat excursion for too long.

I didn’t drink anything last night on New Year’s eve; I didn’t have to. At least I didn’t spend any money!

Is this the last wall I will hit before my book Yoga at Your Wall is finally in print?

Stay tuned for more from “Typhoid Stefi…”

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The Seesaw of Sharing

I feel like a tomato without its skin. It’s that sinking feeling in my stomach again. Did I just divulge too much about my recent tragedies, hardships, bad luck, or bad karma to a new friend? The doubt creeps in when I begin to hear her well-meaning advice coming toward me instead of the shared empathy I crave.

The extremes of codependency can appear in a single conversation! Amazing! One person is exposing themselves too much, or “spilling it all too quickly” as it is referred to in certain literature about codependency. And the other person is reacting out of their unconscious need to help, over care-take, or correct the situation. Instead of just listening or empathizing from their own shared experience, they quickly begin to give advice, admonitions, and astute observations as if they were somehow privy to insider information.

Both people in the conversation mean well, but the conversation begins to spiral downward.

I wanted to jump out of my body like it was a Halloween costume worn too long.

“You should pray more.” ” Hum…do you notice a pattern here?” she says to me with her index finger placed over her lip , and eyebrows furrowed a bit like my therapist.

I become queasy. How do I stop this runaway train now? Dizzy discomfort. Oh no! The conversation has turned to “fixing” me. Oh no!

My soul cries, “I don’t want to be fixed! I don’t need to be fixed!”

And simultaneously, another truth dawns on me: I recognize my own self in this situation. I am reminded of the times that I so wanted to help others, I couldn’t plain old listen.

For a moment, I am consoled by this realization, and that the fact that I can empathize even though I am uncomfortable.

I renew my efforts to catch myself in the quest to change anyone. I feel redeemed, and

then I jump back into my exposed pealed tomato body.

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