I am at yoga camp (which I’ve written about here and here). Don’t think camp as in retreat. Think bootcamp for the soul. The day starts with 6:30 am practice and pretty much goes straight through with more yoga and many many classes and lots of talk and more OMing than you can imagine until Lights Out at 10:00 pm. I am in a dorm room of 22 women who range from 48 years old to 20 years old. We are all very together – like it or not.

I am just completing week two of this four week experiment. The laboratory is my emotional landscape – much more so than my physical one. I’ve experienced a huge gamut of feelings – from intense and stupid frustration at the heat, which was miserable last week, to amazing heart opening toward my classmates. I am silly putty – stretching and picking up  new images.

And yet some things are deeply programmed – not beyond stretching but really deeply held. I came up against one yesterday when Alex failed to have the kids ready to Skype with me. Most of my classmates with kids have already Skyped with this kids several times, and I haven’t at all. I’m really missing them. Given the tight schedule I have here and the very limited wi-fi access, it is tough to schedule such a visit, so I was really looking forward. I sat with my computer for an hour. Waiting. Hoping. And then crying.

All of that disappointment quickly formed into a ball of anger at Alex. The fact that he didn’t pay my June child support until a few days ago – and with little to no explanation – had only fueled my ire. As did the fact that a friend at home told me he’s been driving my car without asking. None of this would matter all that much if he would TALK TO ME. But he doesn’t. Just as he never has. Clarity is not in his make-up, nor does it seem to be an area that he desires to improve.

We learned last week in anatomy (can I just say how unsuited my brain is for the study of anatomy?) that our body holds memories. We learned exactly how they are imprinted on and within us.

Clearly, the disappointment that I have in Alex is one of these body memories, coming out and exploding just as powerfully as the love and release I’m also experiencing here. I’d love to offer it to the Universe and let it burn off. It may take more time. Patience, patience patience.

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