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Villain Era


I have spent the summer reading a whole book about the Heart of Yoga.  I have learned many things. Mostly I have learned I will not become a yoga guru. I will practice yoga. I love yoga. I understand it better. Aaaannnddd, it was not the answer.

My mother, if she were to read this would say, "That is because you are a Catholic, and you cannot pray to Aztec gods and expect answers. I told you this last week." (For the record both my mother and I know that the practice of yoga is not related to Aztecs. My mother says things like that for effect. It turns out, we are related). 

Rather than circle back to my Catholic upbringing with all of its corruption and misogyny, I have turned to the Buddha. Again. I have yet to accumulate evidence where he is misogynistic. There is time.


So, I have replaced The Artist's Way, and The Heart of Yoga, with Being with Busyness. To celebrate I took photos of sunflowers in the morning-post-rain sunshine.

Celebrate is a strong word. I am peri-menopausal. I am a teacher in the first month of school. Someone I consider dear died.  I quit all of my anti-depressants. And I started my third period in 6 weeks.

Nic is unclear why I sat on the couch and cried for an hour last night. 

I decided at work in a mini-freak out about something minimal that I am in my Villain era. I am like a not-so-cute-or-talented-or-rich Taylor Swift my era's. In this era, I wear black and cry a lot. I would line my eyes with thick eyeliner and look hateful, but I cry too much. Sorry.

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