Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Crossing 23rd St.



In a totally unprecedented turn of events, I had a private client who wanted to do Restorative Yoga  this morning at 6:45 a.m. out at Ojo. I'm an early-girl, so I was game. Driving out to Ojo in the predawn light, I saw a dog (maybe a coyote, maybe a fox!) run across the highway, way out in front of me. Then I saw another one, a few minutes later, standing awfully close to the side of the road. "Be careful, you guys!" I thought, worried.

Gathering speed again after I'd taken a left turn, a bunny rabbit came darting out from the right, directly underneath my car. I felt a thump-thump, and my heart dropped. I had been listening to a wonderful podcast on Mindfulness and decided to turn it off and keep driving. I was deeply sad, and I couldn't help but pray for how sorry I was. I cried a little bit. I loved that rabbit. I know, I'm weird, but it's true; I was heartbroken that I killed it.

It felt good to be in silence with my sadness and prayers; and eventually, I got over myself and turned the podcast back on, got to Ojo and had a great session with the client.

On my way back to town later, I waited to see the roadkill I killed. There was nothing there, not even a stain. Maybe the rabbit made it! Or maybe the vultures did a superlative job cleaning up. I guess I'll never know.

Oddly, this whole "me killing an innocent creature before 7 a.m. on a Tuesday" reminds me of one time when I was on a date. It was maybe a second or third date with this guy in New York, and the restaurant where we planned to go had a gigantically long wait time. We were both hungry, so we left in search of another place. I suggested a cafe I knew of nearby. All I remember is that we were crossing 23rd St, and whatever he said in response to my idea, hurt my feelings.

Okay, so I'm weird and super sensitive, but I think maybe what he said was kinda rude. We were hungry after all! The great part is, it doesn't even matter. What matters is, for the first time ever in my life, on that date, I was able to acknowledge that I got hurt and to be with that hurt. I crossed my arms around my chest and gently rubbed my hand back and forth along my arm; this silent acknowledgement was my way of telling me I was going to be okay. And I was able to carry on and actually have an alright time despite hanging out with a complete and total jerk. Just kidding, you guys. :) That guy was perfectly nice.

The point is, "you gotta feel it to heal it."

(And the hope is that I didn't kill that rabbit. Cross your fingers for me.)

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