Freak Out

This afternoon all the logistics of leading my first yoga retreat came crashing down, dressed in all of my irrational (and some potentially rational if not blown totally out of proportion) fears. What if we don’t all find the shuttle from the airport to the resort? What if the resort isn’t as magical as it seemed online? What if the mosquitos are rampant (can we say, Zika)? What if it rains the whole time (it is the rainforest)? What if I didn’t pack the right stuff? And on that topic, none of my beach clothing fits properly because I have gained a lot of weight since last summer. So now I am the “fat” yoga teacher about to parade her jiggling cellulite all over the beaches of Costa Rica in front of her yoga students. And the scent of all my beach attire, which hasn’t been worn since last year, reminds me of people I went to the beach with weekly in the past, but who are no longer in my life…a wound that is still healing. I digress, though. What if I suck? What if the students, paying good money for this, are unhappy with their experiences? I am the one shouldering the blame. I am the one who lured them out to Costa Rica for a week.

Needless to say, it was a long afternoon leading up to getting dropped off at the airport. (My parents were the brunt of much of my swirling anxiety.) My students tend to believe I am always calm, cool, and collected. I teach in NYC, stuff happens. My students often pride me on my abilities to stay calm and eloquently handle just about any situation. In my personal life, however, freak outs happen. More often than I would like to admit, my anxiety gets the best of me. 

As I sit in an airport restaurant reflecting, and putting the finishing touches on my lesson plans for the upcoming week, I can almost laugh at the absurdity of it all. My freak outs are pointless, they never change the outcome of things. In the end I just get all riled up. You’d think by this point in my life I would have it together enough to squelch the freak outs. I was a therapist and now I teach yoga and meditation. Shouldn’t I have a better handle on my emotions and be able to remain calm by now? The answer…not yet.

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About djunapassman

I teach yoga, write, and edit. I live in a Brooklyn neighborhood that is changing faster than I can, or care to, keep up with. Manhattan still beckons me to her island a few subways stops away, reminding me of when I lived amongst her daily hustle and bustle.
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2 Responses to Freak Out

  1. i have long been a worry wort. It comes from my father, who worried about everything under the sun; my mom didn’t help things along. I know that worrying expends a LOT of wasted energy, but it’s soooo hard to let it go when it’s in your DNA. So, I get it! I think the Costa Rica retreat will be amazing. : )

  2. Pingback: Costa Rica Pictures | Little Rants From the Big City

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