I woke up a 5 but forced myself to stay in bed until 6 am. I walked Elsa, did my oil rinse, washed my dishes which I hadn’t soaked the night before, squeezed some of the remaining limes I picked the other day, drank my two cups of water and left for Bikram.
I continued to apply JJ’s suggestions. They create such a huge change in my body that I was quickly exhausted and felt a need for an endless savasana. My body said, “Lie still,”; I did. I fell asleep. Periodically, I would wake up with a snort. I would hear Mark say something about sleeping during class. This is not discouraged. The teachers regularly say, “Listen to your body.” And boy, do I do that. The Bikram classes are always the same. Love it. This allows me to put all my focus on my body instead of the asana, the postures. I can spend the whole class concentrating on the relationship of my shin bone to the arch in my left foot. Doing that limits the depth of any particular asana, but it changes my body and means that in the long run, I’m ahead of the game.
As I worked on the blog once I got home, I could hear the chickens next door clucking away. They don’t usually do that for prolonged periods. They’re all hens which make noise when they are laying their eggs. My line is, “They’re not the only females to scream while giving birth.” I didn’t work long before I needed sleep. I slept from 12 to 3.
My student’s teacher called around 2. She didn’t have much to tell me that I didn’t know already, except that she was grateful I was on board because there was no way she could give the girl all the time she needed to catch up. The girl is reading on a mid-first grade level and will be entering 6th grade next year. Her birth parents, while loving, weren’t into fulfilling parental responsibilities, like getting their kids to school regularly. This girl is behind because she missed a lot. I went right back to sleep after the call. Boy, I must have been tired.
As I woke up at 3, Clarence called. He’s the head of the diaconate program for all of Hawaii. He and his wife were present when Mike was taken off life support. More importantly, they were there the day before when his wife, Vi, asked Mike if he wanted to go to Jesus, and he enthusiastically banged his arm. Clarence and Vi were on the island for the celebration mass for the 50th anniversary of his priesthood and took the occasion to call.
I called Yvette and asked if she could take Elsa downstairs with her around dinner time. I was leaving at 5 to attend a mass. I figured I would be home around 7. She said she’d be back around the same time and couldn’t take care of Elsa earlier; she would check on her when she arrived. I did some more work on the blog. Then I took Elsa for a quick walk, just to be on the safe side.
I drove to church with Paulette. She sang in the choir. I looked for someone I knew to sit with. I was always comfortable sitting alone when Mike was on the altar. I’m not quite as comfortable now that I’m alone. I found a couple who were friends with Mike and me. We socialized together. They have been wonderfully there for me when I came home after Mike died. When the Mass was over, the wife spoke to a couple in front of them to make arrangements to sit together. When I located them, they told me, accurately, that there was no more room at their table. In the past, I would have been wandering around, looking for Mike. I did okay with this situation; I wasn’t devastated, but it left me thinking that they are not interested in me as a person, just as a responsibility to Mike. There are situations where this is more than acceptable. I don’t know if this is true, but I am considering it.
The Mass was lovely. Fr. Joe Badding is a profoundly spiritual and religious man; it was a treat to be there for the celebration of his 50th anniversary as a priest. His homily was on the subject of love. (The subject is coming at me from all sides.) He compared Eros to agape. The definition I came across for Eros is a self-centered love, one that asks what the other person can do for me or what I can get out of this relationship. It is also considered the romantic type of love marked by elation.
In doing a little research on the definitions, I came across a fourth kind of love: storage. This is marked by duty; you just do what you are supposed to do. I’m thinking that most people experience some of all four of these types of love. Moreover, different people value different kinds of love. I have an image of a bar graph with four colors representing the four types of love. Each person’s graph looks different. I think I’m going to try to fill one out for myself. It sounds like a confusing activity. How do I distinguish one from the other? It’s like all the colors get mixed together.
Each form of love has a positive way of manifesting and a negative. Romantic love can be when your life partner of 45 years endlessly delights you. Or is that agape? It does get confusing. Agape love, also referred to as unconditional love, can turn into codependent love, where people think they are virtuous because they suffer abuse or don’t set limits for their children.
The members of the diaconate and their wives have a continued commitment to both the men who became deacons and the women who allowed them to join the diaconate and supported them in their work. I accept that in this context, for most of the deacons, I am just Mike’s wife. However, there are people who I consider friends; I have to consider maybe not. Some people were so impressed with Mike’s intelligence and that he was an ordained member of the church, that I don’t know if they were even really his friends versus his admirers. Although we all could enjoy each other’s company. I need to avoid people who only put up with me because I was Mike’s wife, except for the diaconate commitment. It’s not good for me. I think I’m an interesting and enjoyable person in my own right. If I hang out with people who see me as someone to be tolerated because of their admiration for Mike, it will be damaging for me.
I have been making additional changes in my foot and knee alignment. I thought that Yvette’s knee looked hyperextended from the back but not the side. She checked with JJ, and he said she was okay. I have revised my own opinion. When I looked at her leg alignment directly from the front or back, her knees looked a little buckled out to the side. I pushed my knee out a little. The test is when I bend the knee, does the knee go over the second toe leaving the big toe visible? It does. Now, this is something new. It means that I don’t just change my foot strike, making sure it starts on the outside edge and allow the hip to drop, but I also have to think of the knee going slightly toward the outer foot. (None of this is advice on what to do with your own body. If anyone is going to think of this as a tutorial, think of it as a tutorial on attitude and intent, not on precisely what to do. It is different for every person.)
One piece of JJ’s advice during the small group class has made a significant difference already. He told me to think of pressing my biceps together when twisting my arms in the eagle pose. Now I have had my palms together with my pinkies facing the mirror and my thumbs facing me for a while. But I haven’t thought of actively pressing my biceps together. What a difference! Knowing what I pay attention to in an exercise makes all the difference. Besides activating muscles differently, there is the possibility that blood flow is increased to that area simply by mentally targeting it.
` When I came back from church, the outside light was on, and there was a light on inside the house. Yvette had come home and put them on for me. I walked into the house, wondering if she had taken Elsa downstairs with her or left her upstairs. Elsa came toward me, ball in mouth. I was so relieved. I would prefer not to think about how I would be feeling if I had no living creature to greet me when I come home. I’m pretty sure that Elsa’s only form of love for me is Eros; she wants to know what I can do for her. Can I rub her belly? Can I give her a treat? Can I throw a ball? She doesn’t ask for food or water. Too boring. Her needs are limited. She also respects my needs at times. If I go limp, she gets the idea that I don’t want to serve her needs right now, and she settles down. She sits near me and sleeps on top of me when I nap, rising and falling with my breath. I’m glad she’s here.
While I had hope of bringing home enough food from the reception at church to feed me for several days, there wasn’t even enough to serve all the people who were there. However, members of the church had supplied the desserts, and there were tons of those. I didn’t come home empty-handed.
I spent the rest of the evening watching TV. Then I walked Elsa, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and went to bed. Good night, Elsa, Goodnight, Mike.
