"Why" Won't Get You Anywhere

But why?

I turn down the music, and face the room of 50 or so people here to take my class. I tell them, "I spent my brief time alone yesterday frantically cleaning my house in preparation for my older, much more successful brother's arrival after this class." This seems normal and reasonable even, minus the frantic quality. "As I was on my yoga mat earlier that morning, deeply focused, of course, I noticed how dusty it was under my couch. And my brain said, oh this will not do. So, instead of tidying up the errant toys and piles of clothes, I moved all the big furniture away from the walls and began deep-cleaning baseboards and long-forgotten dark corners. I managed to waste a bunch of time and create an even bigger mess. But if he looks behind any of my furniture, he will be very impressed."

I don't know if it's entirely thanks to ADHD, but historically, time management hasn't been my strong suit. So now, as I try to organize my work days totally on my own, I have taken to saying out loud, "NO. This is not important," roughly a thousand or so times. I have three hours while Greg takes the kids out in the morning and I need to be as productive as possible. I have a never-ending to-do list that constantly spills into the next day. It would make sense then that I'm spending my precious time researching this thing I heard while working out earlier called the, “Zone of Apposition." I'm fascinated, and it could be important to my teaching, so technically I'm working, but no, this is not important. I close out the tabs and attempt to focus on the time-sensitive taxes that need to be filed.

On Tuesday, I emailed the job I used to have asking about what they'd like me to do with the costume and set keys. As I drove to teach on Friday, I realized I had gotten no response. I remember the phrase my Dad always used to say to me, "No response is a response," he's right and now I'm pissed. I began to spin in circles around what this nonresponse meant. I feel indignant. No response? I worked my ass off for them for 7 years. But more than that, they were also my friends, or so I thought. And now, I'd been left on read, like some bothersome customer service email they'd deemed unimportant. That's the level they'd placed me on. I was hurt, fixated, and furious.

I saw Maya as soon as I entered the studio Friday morning. My whole being lit up. She lives on the complete opposite side of the city and used to go to my classes when I taught over her way. She'd made the trek through rush hour traffic and that meant a lot to me.

We embraced and began to catch up. "How's the baby?" she asked. "She's so good. She's so funny. I'm having a blast." I was telling the truth and I was actively trying to rewire my responses to these kinds of questions. When I was little, I remember how people would compliment me to my Mother, and she would always counter the compliment with a complaint. I have adopted her habit, but instead, I make a self-deprecating joke to ward off the incoming love because I'm fun. I have noticed with my kids, though, that I'm doing the complaint thing. One of the moms at Otis's school told me in her Australian accent, "We think Otis is a legend!" And I countered something about how he's in a hitting phase and it's driving me mad. What the fuck, me? Just let him be loved. So, when Maya asked, I allowed myself to lead with the things I love instead of a litany of ways that it's hard. It is hard, but it's also the fucking best and that's important.

She sets up her mat beside me and we continue to catch up. Whenever I'm with a mom that I adore I mine them for gold. She's got teens now. What's that like? How are teen daughters? Do they still like you? How did you do that? Etc.

I do eventually touch on some of the hard, the aforementioned hitting. I'm struggling with the way Otis treats Willa. It triggers me to no end to see him hit this defenseless baby that adores him. I lose my shit, it solves exactly nothing. I tell her about how I screamed WHY, WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS? At him the day before. She gives me a look of understanding and then tells me, "Mmm. Yeah. And, "why?" is not a spiritual question," in the most casual way as though she didn't just gift me life-changing information.

I wrap up my class and I see another mom approach me. She's been coming to class for over a decade. "I was listening to you talk about your "much more successful older brother" at the beginning of class and I had to come say to you, you are a success! Don't you see how successful you are?" I begin to brush her off. "Oh, yes, thank you, Kerry. It's an old story I should throw out, huh?" She continues, "No, I mean really think about it. If you want to think in numbers, think about how you've impacted the economy of this studio. This neighborhood. The parking meters alone! I mean it. You're a success financially and that's great. But you've impacted thousands of lives in ways you'll never even know and I want you to hear that." The intensity of her sincerity makes my throat tighten up. I try my best not to make a joke about it being a negative impact. Instead, I thank her and let the love in.

On my drive home, I'm on a high from teaching. It's beautiful out and my brother and one of my nieces will be there when I arrive. My brain decides that's too happy and not interesting enough. Instead, it wants to push all the big furniture into the middle of the room, expose the piles of dust and dirt, and make an even bigger mess. Sure, why not? Let's feel bad about the imagined drama of the no-response email again. Within a few stoplights, I'm frantic and spiraling. I thought I meant more to them. Why do they hate me? Why did it have to end like this? Why…I hear Maya's voice and the gift she gave me mere hours ago. Why isn't going to get me anywhere. "NO. This is not important," I tell myself out loud. How and what, those seem important. I roll down the windows and turn up my music. How am I feeling about what's actually going on in my life right now? I am excited. I feel love. Okay, good, really feel that. What do I need? Presence and connection. Shit yeah, now you're getting it! Focus on that.

The heat wave continues in San Francisco and we pile into my car to drive 5 minutes down the road to the beach. I don't know exactly what I'm going to do to make as much money as I think I need to make to live in this city that I love, but right now surrounded by my family and brimming love, I feel like a total fucking success. Being here with them is without a doubt the most important thing.

FOR ALL OF THIS WEEK’S PAY WHAT YOU CAN MOVEMENT AND MEDITATION CONTENT GO HERE: LRY EPISODE 209