Practicing Handstands

I did my first handstand press up the other day. It’s something that I’ve been working on for the past 9 months, so I am estatic that it finally happened. Of course, with the way my mind works, there’s a lesson in there. But first things first. For those of you who don’t know, a handstand press is when you start from standing, place your hands on the floor in front of you and, without jumping, simply lift your legs over your head. “Simply,” right? Hah! It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever tried to do and for months my feet wouldn’t even leave the ground. And I consider myself to be in fairly good shape. I’d also like to say my feet went right up over my head into the perfect handstand. Hahahahaha, nope. The truth is, the moment my feet went over my head I freaked out, fell out of the handstand and almost landed on my face. It scared the hell out of me, mostly because I didn’t truly think it would happen. I’m still learning how to do a solid handstand, and yet I can now, apparently, press my feet over my head. Who knew? 

So, back to the lessons. The easy thing to talk about would be about perseverance, and it’s true you have to keep trying things in order to get better. And learning can be a slow process. I’ve been trying to do a handstand press since the first time I saw someone do one. It was so cool to see them just lift their feet over their head, and I wanted to do that, too. And I’ll admit it, there’s a bit of my ego involved with this. But I couldn’t do it. I tried and tried and tried. For months. I took and a handstand clinic to improve my handstand. Maybe two. Or three. But the best I could do was to lift my feet an inch or two off the ground. Even that was sooooo freaking hard. I gave up for a while. Stopped doing handstands every chance I got and what little gains I had made, I lost. Then a couple months ago I started trying again. My handstand improved. Still no press, but I’ve been been able to hold a handstand for about 8 seconds.

Then, last week, I was hanging out with one of my friends, who is an excellent yoga teacher, and the woman I’ve been seeing, who is also an incredible yoga teacher. The two of them both start playing with their handstand presses (because they both can) and they start talking about doing this one simple thing that I’ve never even heard about. Bending your knees. I’m amazed. I go off into a corner (because obviously I don’t want to be out in the open if I fail) and I try it. I do it! It wasn’t pretty, I didn’t hold it at all and I almost fell on my face. But I did it! I was amazed and happy! I turn to the woman I’ve been seeing and asked if she saw it. She said “yes.” I said, “I had no idea that bending your knees could help you do a press.” Her response?? “Well, yeah. It makes it so much easier. But why didn’t you tell me you wanted to do a press? I would have told you that months ago.” Oh…

I now realize that doing a handstand press seemed so far away from me that I never really tried it around the people who could help, let alone ask them for help. Even though it was something I REALLY wanted to do. It was always a far off “some day” goal. And I guess I felt a little silly for wanting to try it. I got in my own way because I didn’t believe enough in myself. And because of that, I stayed on the edge of being able to do something I really wanted to do. For months.

But that’s ok. I know how to do it now. Now there’s just more practice and getting better. And being ok with where I am in life, even when I get in my own way, is simply another practice I am incorporating in my life.

So, lessons learned 1) the things we want are often closer than we think 2) even if we think it’s a ridiculous goal, ask others for help. For that matter, surround yourself with people willing to help, not those who say it can’t be done. 3) this goes with #2, but always tell people what you’re doing. Bring it into the light.

As I’m writing these down, I realize that I’ve heard them many times before. So it’s clear I needed a reminder. That’s ok, too. I’m good with reminders. I’m just gonna keep on practicing. Practicing my handstand, practicing my handstand press, practicing life. Because that’s what life really is, practice.

Rage, Pain, and Sadness….Or, A Touch of Grey

Today, I signed the documents that will finalize my divorce and custody agreement for my son. It’s been a rough few months, and I realize now what’s been bothering me all this time. Why I’ve retreated a little from life…why I haven’t blogged in so long…or written anything…at all. It’s been tough to get out of bed, pay my bills, keep in touch with friends, maintain a healthy eating schedule. Pretty much anything that I “should” be doing. And then it all comes crashing down at once what is bothering me.

I’m a processor. It’s how I deal with life. Sometimes it’s fairly slow, as it was this time, and sometimes it’s, well, less slow. Oh, well. It’s who I’m am. I usually figure out what’s bothering me within two days. I’m ok with that. Or at least I’ve come to accept that is how I work.

So I signed the paperwork and talked with my lawyer for a bit. He kept assuring me about what I was signing and said things like, “this is really the best deal you could have hoped for,” and “this agreement will protect your rights as a father.” It all sounds good, even though I have some misgivings, but I’m really just glad to have everything over. As I walk out of his office, I really want to have a beer. I don’t want to get drunk, I generally don’t feel that urge anymore, but just one beer to take the edge off. The problem is that it’s 10 AM and any place I’d want to go is closed. I’m also not going to go home and drink, and I’m too impatient to sit around and wait for some place to open up. See, I’ve become very aware of when, and why, I drink. Sometime I get these urges to go against what I think is right, but I also think the universe conspires to help us, if we pay attention. I did. Instead of going and having a beer I decided to go home and meditate, to simply feel what I’m feeling. Feelings aren’t good or bad, they just are, and I want to be in touch with mine as much as possible. I think that’s one way to truly enjoy life and not hide from it.

I start driving home and get about a mile into the 40 minute drive when I have a moment of catharsis. Ok, I started sobbing uncontrollably. And it’s possible it lasted for more than a moment. My lawyer’s words repeat in my head again and again, “best deal” in particular. Best deal? Are you fucking kidding me? On the one hand, I do believe him. I heard the same thing from him, another source, and a mediator. And it tells me how fucked up Illinois is for father’s rights. Best deal? What the fuck? Fuck you! Right now, I have my son every other weekend and then from 6-8 PM one night a week. My lawyer and the mediator both assure me that’s how Illinois does it. But “best deal.” Fuck. 

I do the math. I don’t know why, but I do. If I have my son every other weekend that means I see him for 26 of the 52 weeks, or for a total of 52 days a year. Out of 365. Best deal. Fuck you. Oh wait, I forgot about the mid-week times I have him. Add two hours times 52 weeks, the that’s 104 additional hours, or another 4.33 days…

I fucking hate this state, I hate it’s law makers, I hate that I’m here, I hate the fucking winter cold. I hate that I’ve spent 8 months here, sent out hundreds of resumes, and only had one interview. Now, I want to go get drunk. I want to go fuck my brains out, I want to beat the shit out of someone. Something, anything, not to have to feel this fucking crap. I fucking hate everyone and I fucking hate everything. And right now I especially, especially, hate the fact that somewhere, deep inside me, there is a small, rational part that sees the lesson in all of this. I don’t want to be rational. I want to rage. I want to fuck shit up.

But my drive home isn’t over yet. That small part of me gets louder. The fact that music is playing on the radio starts to register. A Touch of Grey by the Grateful Dead comes on. Music has often soothed my soul, and it does so now. I know that life isn’t bad or good. How much time I have with my son isn’t bad or good. I can be a good father to him with what little time I have. It’s the quality moments that really matter. And right now I see him more than when I lived in California and he was in Illinois. I need to keep things in perspective, because, really, there are a couple ways this can go.

I can keep this anger and resentment, I can hold it tight. In the end, though, who really gets hurt? I’ve heard it said that holding resentment is like taking poison yourself, hoping someone else dies. So, in this scenario, the only people I’m hurting is myself, and then my son. That’s not ok with me. Another option is to accept that this is how it is, for now. It won’t always be like this. My son will grow up, situations will change. He’ll be able to make his own choices. And from what I hear, it will happen fast. Crap, it feels like he was born just the other day. Right now my job is to be the best father to him I can be, to keep myself sane and healthy, to keep him safe, and to be there for him when he needs me. And he will need me.

The song ends. My tears have, mostly, stopped. I don’t like the situation, but I can accept it…and look for ways that I can change it in the future. The key is acceptance. By accepting it, I don’t rage against it. I don’t hold on to it and get depressed, or want to drink or engage in any other myriad of distractions that humans can use to “help” us get through. To me, it’s just one more step to being fully present. And that’s how I choose to live my life.