Déjà vu
The job was a dream job, one I had wanted since moving to Portland. I was in a yoga immersion when I got the callback. Part of me had moved past wanting that job, and found teaching yoga to be the most harmonious choice I've made yet. Since I had spent years wishing for an opportunity like this I skipped class to go on the interview.
I mentally went over what I'd be missing in class that day as I changed my outfit no less than five times. I realized I was late already and called the employer. Then I was delayed further by construction. As I quickly weaved around dizzying turns, I realized I had no idea where this place was. The streets were all cul-de-sac's, one ways, dead ends. My mind was spinning with regret and confusion. By the time I arrived at my destination I was an hour and a half late. I felt seasick, defeated, exhausted. It was not worth it.
Today before class I was also in a rush and convinced myself that I had enough time to get somewhere new with no food in my belly. I changed my shirt no less than three times, and hopped in my car with 15 minutes to go. As I sped down the street dodging cars and other obstacles, I began to feel dizzy. When a road crew signaled stop in the same construction zone as last summer, Bill Murray's character Phil in Groundhog Day flitted through my consciousness. Haven't I driven this same way before and felt nauseous like this? It was then that I aborted my mission.
The body gives you signals all day long, but we are all fairly adept at ignoring them. Inconsequential decisions like whether to wear brown shoes or black shoes can seem difficult without first taking time to tune in to your own frequency. Rather than feeling excitedly buoyant about that interview, I felt torn and distracted. Just like in yoga poses, all actions need a solid foundation. Shifting your weight around until you find your center in a pose takes awareness and patience. Why not bring that into daily life?
