Happy Birthday(s)!

I have been a very bad blogger these past few weeks, but I have good reasons, I promise!

1. I was planning a surprise party for my fiance's 40th birthday (don't worry, it's done now...it all went swimmingly) but who knew planning a party required so much...planning.  I'm considering a practice round for wedding planning.  Which, ladies and gentlemen start your engines, begins NOW.

2.  I was simultaneously trying to decide what on earth to do for my 30th birthday (which was yesterday, thank you very much)...because it was my big 30 and ALSO because it happened to fall on 10/10/10.  Which also equals 30.  Which means, I assumed, that on that day I would FINALLY become enlightened.  How does it feel to finally be enlightened?  Feels good, people, feels good.

and 3.  Because I've actually been teaching more and more (hooray) and I'm still learning the fine art of time management...

Anyhoo...the birthday weekend just happened (Paul's on Saturday, mine on Sunday--I know, how nerdy!) and it was a great success.  On Saturday we WALKED ACROSS LOS ANGELES.  No joke.  We walked from Los Feliz to Santa Monica.  And then we just fell into a little heap on the sand.  It was INTENSE.  There will be a future blog all about the crazy journey from total optimism to total physical torture that occurred during those 8 hours, but for now I want to talk about day two...Sunday...my birthday.

We, being totally sore and exhausted, decided that my birthday would be a bit more, um, relaxing, and I had several things I wanted to do, but no plan.  Purposefully, no plan.  At first I thought the plan-less-ness was a hindrance, or that I was somehow failing my own birthday, but as the day arrived I suddenly realized that the "no planning" for my 30th birthday was exactly how I want to enter into this new decade: relaxed, plan-free, spon-tan-eous.

The day began with coffee on the sun-deck of the motel where we stayed, evolved into a daring swim in the ocean (at 8am folks, because I am amazing), and then a hobble (you should see Paul's poor feet!) to the Santa Monica promenade where I bought some of my favorite green tea.  We had planned, then (plans!) to take a cab back home, but at the last minute decided (no plans!) to take a bus instead.  So we hopped on the first bus that we thought would take us near where we wanted to go, or at least to downtown where we could then take another bus...and as the bus pulled up at it's final destination, we saw across the street some kind of festival.

We pondered it and realized it was probably the Olvera Street market, which I'd been wanting to go to for quite some time, so we decided to check it out.  But upon further inspecition we discovered, to my delight, that it was in fact this big mole festival "Feria de los Moles" that I had been reading about and bemoaning not being able to go to (I LOVE mole)...and here we were! Right smack in the middle of it! On my birthday!  We promptly joined in, waiting in a long line in the hot sun for some amazing mole, and marveled at the magic of coincidence.

And as we sat on the sidewalk, eating our plate of black mole, I said to Paul that I was going to take the symbolic significance of our little adventure as confirmation that my 30's was going to be about not planning...and still ending up somewhere great.  Ending up, in fact, exactly where I wanted to go.

Victory!!!

Well, Shanti-Town, it's been a wild couple of weeks; I have been to the desert, I have turned one apartment into a another apartment, I have belted out some Carrie Underwood in front of a room full of strangers, I have celebrated A LOT and today I turned a corner...

Today marks the first day of the last year of my twenties. That's right, folks, today this little yogaholic turns 29. A birthday surprising in its momentousness. 29? Who knew THAT would be a big birthday? 30 is what it's all about. 30 is the birthday deserving of some total skin-shedding. Right? Am I right? Well...I may BE right, but 29 sure snuck up on me.

This morning, while getting in a quick cuddle with my love before heading off to (ugh) work, I was quietly overcome with a chest-gripping nostalgia: My god, time is just moving. It is a train that I have boarded and can not get off of (wouldn't, even if I could), but man is it just my imagination, or is it SPEEDING UP? My twenties have been such a mass of confusing emotions and big changes that for a long time I've felt...well, let's just say more than ready to say goodbye to them. But this morning my twenties did not seem to me like an aggravating ball of crazy, no, this morning I could feel all the sweetness, all the energy, all the veil-dropping-ness of what it is to be a twenty-something. I could have cried.

I could go on, trust me, all about growing up and revelation and this illusive thing called "womanhood", but I'll digress...because this post (please reference above title) is about victory. It is about a little tiny (giant) personal victory.

Drum-roll please!

Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, while sequestered in the tiny gym on the 7th floor of the lawfirm where I work weekends, I DID MY FIRST UNASSISTED DROPBACK!!!

(For those of you who don't know what one is, THIS is a dropback.)

Now, I've been doing assisted dropbacks for quite a while now, and I know--have known for some time--that I have all the flexibility and strength and know-how I need in order to be able to do one on my one, but, until today, I never have. I have wanted to, oh, how I have wanted to! I salivate over dropbacks. I have given myself many a neck crink just watching other people do them in class...they are...DELICIOUS. But, I have always waited for the teacher to come over, or some good old fashioned wall-time in order to get them done. And why? Because dropbacks are S-C-A-R-Y. Scary.

In Anusara they say that the back of the body represents the unknown (and of course for most of us the back of the body literally IS unknown, unless you happen to have a 360 degree mirror in your home, or have ever been on that Tim Gunn show where he makes a 3D computer mock-up of your body) and so for most of us dropping backwards in space is pretty f-ing freaky. (This is also what makes inversions pretty difficult for many of us...upside down AND backwards! Yikes!)

But, people, I have had a nearly daily practice for over 3 years now,and knowing myself and my own body there is no reason for me not to be able to dropback. Except for fear.

Fear, fear, fear, fear, fear, fear, feeeeear. (My arch nemesis).

So, this evening, as I was winding up my practice with some backbends, I suddenly decided that NOW was the time. I decided that, damnit, it is my 29th birthday, I have been stuck at work all day...I am going to overcome this one tiny pesky little fear. I figured, if I can start here, on this first day of my 29th year...if I can just conquer one small fear...well, the sky's the limit.

I stood up, heart pounding.

I started sort of sticking my toe in the water, bending back, bending back, bending back...whoop! Right back up to standing again. No go.

Heart pounding more, now.

Little voice says, "oh, come on, you don't need to do this today!"

Other little voice joins in, "yeah, who's gonna know? You'll do it later. You'll do it next time you're in class...when there's a teacher."

New little voice, "you could do it at home...maybe you can have Paul come stand near you when you do it, just to spot you."

First little voice again, "yeah, you should really have someone else there. Just so you don't hurt yourself. What if you hurt yourself!? What then? You're all alone in this little gym..."

And then, BIG voice chimes in, "No! Hush. I'm doing it."

I'm doing it, goddamnit. Heart still pounding. I breathe. I settle in to my feet. I set myself up--thighs back, tailbone down, ground through my legs. I lift up and start opening up to the sky and then behind me. I breathe. And then...like magic...like I've been doing it my whole life, I dropback into a perfect, silent, backbend.

I immediately get up and do it again, giddy, so that I know it wasn't a fluke and then, when I am finally on my back and on the floor, I pump my two fists in the air and let out a little whoop.

I did it!

And when I stand up I am shaking from the exhiliration and the adrenaline and for the second time today I well up with emotion. I did it. I did it. No one there to see it. No safety net. I did it.

I am twenty-freakin'-nine years old and I can do anything! Well...I can at least do one thing today that I was scared to do yesterday, and that is a huge birthday victory.

All my love,
YogaLia