Moon days can be such a downer.
I took my moon day yesterday because it seemed reasonable to do so. After all, Yoga Sutra considered yesterday to be the moon day. And besides, I didn’t have any time to practice yesterday. Yes, despite that I am quite the lady of leisure, there was actually a day in which I was so booked with activities and obligations that practice became an impossibility. First, there was the Fourth Grade Band Concert at school. Then there was a doctor’s appointment and a related lab visit that took up the rest of the morning. Immediately after, I had a chiropractor appointment. And that left me just enough time to swing home, grab Brian’s tennis raquet, pick him up from a playdate and get him to his tennis lesson. While he had his lesson, I sat with my papers spread around me and made all those annoying phone calls that I hate to make that have been piling up all week (like, calls to my dental insurance company asking them why they considered only $289 of a $400 bill to be a “covered expense”….of course, I already knew that the answer was “beyond the bounds of reasonable and customary”….). As soon as tennis was over, it was time to pick Adam up from his after school activiy. And then it was dinner time.
Despite the flurry of activity and productivity, I was feeling rather gloomy. I am starting to worry about how much I am going to miss living in New York City when I move up to the country. I suppose that if you don’t have at least some degree of sadness over leaving whatever it is you’re leaving, then it might be that you’re actually running away from something. So, I guess I am not running away from NYC. I am making a move that I consider to be right for my family. And I am excited about all that fresh air and open space. But I am also scared. What if I feel all lost and at loose ends out there, where instead of buildings, you see trees, and instead of people, you see stone fences and specimen plantings? What if I am bored? What if I absolutely hate it? What if no one wants to meet the new mom in town?
What if no one talks to me in study hall? What if no one plays with me at recess?
Oh wait, this is now. I guess old habits die hard.
I also spent time yesterday feeling sad about no longer being a “baby mom”. I don’t obsess of strollers and babyproofing. I’m long past the What to Expect and Touchpoints years, and I read People and Life & Style rather than Parents Magazine. And that’s not the worst of it. The worst of it is that I am 10 years older now than I was when I was one of the rosy-cheeked, perpetually anxious stroller-pushing girls that walk around the streets of my neighborhood. Yeah, I am happy, WAY happy to be 41, to have made it to 41 when there were times about five years ago when I was forced to consider the possibility that I might not ever see 40. And I am happy that my children are growing into themselves, becoming the people that they are, and the people that they will be. But I felt sad yesterday.
I remember when I was in the seventh grade, and I felt the same quality of sadness as I stood on a soccer field and thought about the fact that I was no longer a “kid”. I was happy to be growing up, but I felt these pangs of sadness that I was no longer a little girl.
The downer lasted into this morning when I woke up and realized that I was too tired to practice. I still had to teach my led class at noon. But there was no way I was going to motivate to practice beforehand. If it wasn’t for an encouraging email from Vanessa (Mindbending, not Dinnerland), I probably would have continued my downward spiral. So, I taught, and then I got out my mat.
I did a few Sun Salutations, but I wasn’t feeling it. I decided to put on some music (I had brought my iPod just in case), but it was hard to find music that matched my mood. Eventually, I settled on…what else,but the Blues. I have like four different versions of “Aint No Sunshine” by Bill Withers, and I played them all in a row. Believe it or not, the most awesome version of this tune is by none other than David “Partridge Family” Cassidy. His voice is incredible, and the arrangement is gorgeous. But Sting also does a nice version with David Sanborn accompanying. There was also “This Night” by Black Lab,which is not exactly blues, but more like alterna-bluesy. Same with A3’s “Woke Up This Morning (Got Myself a Gun)”.
What happened was that I didn’t want to practice yoga at all. I wanted to dance. And so, I did. And then after a time, I found myself wanting to practie. And so, I did. And by the time I was done, I was the happy version of myself again.
Am I so addicted to moving my body that I suffer from withdrawal if I miss a single day of it?
I ended up not getting uptown until past 4 p.m., at which point I had to shower and change and get Brian to P.S. 6 for the Fourth Grade Dance Performance. And, well, all I can say is WOW. The Fourth Grade Dance Program at our school (not P.S. 6 – we were just using their awesomely big auditorium) is run by the National Dance Institute. NDI has been rehearsing with the fourth graders for the entire school year, choreographing the most amazing dance performance I could have ever imagined. It was seriously professional enough to be, well, professional. I would have paid good money to see it, and let me tell you, this has nothing to do with the fact that my kid was in it. It was really amazing choreography and really amazing dancing. The theme was Africa, and the costumes were bright, primary colors. The sets were these huge, amazing, deeply saturated-color murals. The children were exhuberant.
And now, finally, I am home. Exhausted. Happier than I was yesterday.