Recently, I've had those closest to me, I believe they are called friends (sometimes best friends), depart. It started with one leaving for Dubai. It continued with one leaving for San Diego. And now, in the next week or so, it will continue with 3 more leaving for Nashville. So what is my next move? This person who's clamored all his life for attention, for friends, for people. What do I do to impart my gift? My guess is nothing because I've seemed to learn that people, all people, are selfish by nature. They will do whatever it is they set their sights on and maybe it's time for me to do the same. Not take it so damn personally that people have different ideas of how to live life.
This all ties in to the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Saying goodbye is never easy, and yeah I know it's not goodbye, it's see you later. But not really. And that's not the hardest thing I've ever had to do. But yoga is. What? Yoga. Whoever started that shit is some sort of maniac. I thought for the longest time that yoga was the total coming out of the closet technique. And then I saw that viral video of the paratrooper who had walking sticks and was like 400 lbs. because he couldn't walk or work out. And he lost a shit ton of weight and was running. I was like holy shit! that's incredible. I'll dominate yoga.
Wrong. So so wrong. Never in my wildest dreams did I think stretching would be hard as shit, but it is. Downward-facing dog, the warrior, runner's pose, child's pose. All of them are ridiculously tough and my body ached 10 minutes into the workout. And then you continue watching others do it because you don't want to feel bad about yourself, but the truth of the matter is I felt worse. People touching down the ground with their palms, squating on dicks, and other phenomenal feats that words can't describe adequately. The worst part about it is that I was sore the next day. From 10 minutes of stretching. It wasn't bad enough that a lot of the women in the class were laughing at my bulge, or should I say, lack thereof, but I couldn't even keep up with them in my incredibly tight compression shorts. Detrimental to my ridiculously large ego.
Yoga and saying goodbye. Two totally different concepts on the spectrum of hard things. Heck, they probably aren't even on the same spectrum they're so damn different. But in so many ways they are the same. Both leave you feeling depleted because you can't do either of them. Yet, there you stand trying to tell your friend or your instructor, "This isn't what I want. I don't want to want to give up." Just like in a game of poker, sometimes it's best to fold. I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason. Whether that be a friend moving away or a yoga instructor telling you you're not good enough. It builds character and ultimately makes you stronger. Another stop in the game of life. Or so I hope.
Ultimately I've realized that I'm not doing anywhere near enough coming and everyone else is doing way too much going. But so is life. In my own bizarre, twisted way I've come to accept the fact that I'm happiest when I'm not happy. Because what is happiness really? Watching the sun rise in the back of a truck at 6:00am passing around a bottle of Sir Francis Drake? Splitting a pizza with someone you've come to care about a whole lot and realizing the true definition of love? Or watching The O.C. and eating a bag of popcorn with about 20 starburst and 100 skittles on the side? I don't know. Those days and those times pass much like everything else. Sometimes I feel like a modern-day Holden Caulfield. And that's what makes me know that "I am better than you."
