Shake it up Baby, Twist and Shout!

Lately I can't get enough of twists. Its coming out all over the place, in my life,  in my practice and even when I sit, a mild little back and forth corkscrew action in my spine helps me settle right in. I can't help but to wonder if its at all related to the myth of Lord Matsyendra, the fish who learned about yoga and turned human by the grace of Shiva.

Or maybe I'm just grasping at straws. 

I love living close to LA. I have a lot of friends from far away places, like my home state of Texas, for example, who happen to find themselves in LA for one reason or another. (Didn't happen nearly as much as when I lived in Reno, Nevada for some reason). This week brought in one of my old boyfriends from Texas. Not just an old boyfriend; THE old boyfriend. Think Matthew McConaughey meets Heath Barklay. Top shelf, grade A, everything great about a Texan man. I was madly in love with him back in the day, and I think he was crazy about me too as there was some fleeting talk about getting married way back yonder. We were just kids, for goodness sakes. I was a sophomore at the University of Texas at Austin, he's a few years older. Our big break up was because I went to spend my junior year in Paris, France. At the time, a year was a really long stretch of time. Like, forever. We'd been inseparable since the night we'd met. He wanted me to stay in Texas, I really wanted him to pine away for me while I galavanted around France, and our whole relationship blew up and never was the same, not even close, even after I returned from France 10 months later.  And now its been over 20 t-w-e-n-t-y years since we've talked, much less seen each other. Talk about a stretch of time. Darn near a lifetime has passed.  And this week, he floats into my life and shows up in LA. "Would you be available for dinner on Tuesday night?", he asked. In my finest Texan accent I replied, "Yeeeew Betcha!". 

My vritti's were whacked for a few days preceeding our meeting. If curiosity didn't kill me, there was a twang of anxiety to do the trick. While I tried to be a spiritual giant about it all I have to admit I noodled around with 'what will he think of me now?' My being a sober, tofu eating, yoga teaching middle aged woman is a far cry from my wild ass college days in Texas. And just under that searing fact of life was 'I bet I can make him still LOVE me'. Not for the sake of winning his heart back, not for the sake of finding a boyfriend, I already have one and that's enough for me thank you, but out of the sheer hit of having somebody else out there in the world love me. Mr. Texas could be fairly easy prey since we have history. Heck, I might be able to make him not only love me, but adore me! 

This craving for love outside myself  is a silent but deadly killer for me. Sometimes its easier to see than others, but sometimes, it sneaks right up on me, like this time, cleverly masqueraded in bluejeans, cowboy boots, and oozing Texan charm. I'm glad I noticed before I set out for the night and got clear about this lurking thought. Well OK, I had my nails done, but that was as far as I intentionally manipulated the situation.

I am finding an incredible freedom in showing up as myself. I am finding that there is an abundance of love in the world, and as long as I am authentic, I will attract the real thing. I take one look around at the people in my life these days and know that. There's one really good thing about having lost most of my material possessions in the world; out went also the hanger on'ers. And I admit I don't feel like I have to impress anybody with anything these days, and with that went a whole slew off my Christmas card list as well.  

Mind you, this was far from my master plan in life. Seeing Tim keenly reminded me of this. I very specifically recall making my decision to go to France based on the idea that I was on a mission to be a wealthy and worldly independent business woman so that I would never need anybody else in my life. Then I'd get around to tending to love and romance. It took making a bundle, a near nervous breakdown at the height of my big world I created, and losing almost everything to find out the reverse is true. For me. Love comes first. Love of self comes even before that.

It is these twists in life and in consciousness that I celebrate. These are the lessons of yoga revealing themselves.

I was completely myself at dinner. I didn't pretend I'm anything I'm not, or spin any half truths, or even bat my mascara laden eyelashes coyly. Not once. Authenticity is one of the most fun practices for me and I enjoyed every single second of my evening. We talked and laughed so much that we both barely ate dinner. We were the last table to leave, and the last two cars in the valet parking lot. He rolled back to LA; I headed back home to Ojai. Smiling to myself, 'who knows what he's thinking? Who knows if it will be another 20 plus years before I see him again, or ever.' And I cried. For love lost and for reminding me of years wasted chasing a world outside to make me feel better about myself. And then I came full circle to immense gratitude that I don't have to do that insane mating dance of attraction with anybody, for any longer, for any reason. I am free to be who I am no matter what.