Stupid inner peace

I went to yoga last night with a co-worker. We had agreed that we needed some peace POST HASTE and since we both belonged to the same gym, we decided to get our yogas on together.

Fabulous class. Lots of flowy yoga, when you move from one position to the next. I'm soooooo beginner than I'm somewhat more . . . awkward (I wanted to write "oxen" there for some reason--sounds the same, and really, it's a better descriptor) than my friend, but that's fine. No competing in yoga, blah blah.

So we did some sun poses, warriors (I discovered my achilles heel--the Inverted?) triangle! AAAHHHH!! NOOOOO!!! PAIN!!!), and some insane squatty poses that nearly brought me to tears. But it was a fantastic workout, and by the end I actually did feel melty as we lay sprawled in what I've always called "corpse pose." We toodled home, feeling very virtuous, and promising each other that we would even try to go to the abs class before yoga as well every week. Halos polished! Hooray!

The problem came later. After chilling out at home for an hour or so, still completely mushy all over, I started crying at some TV show. (I'm a weeper about TV and movies. Commercials, too. I rarely cry in other situations.) No problem. But then, I couldn't stop. I had a complete meltdown. Cried for hours. Worries about work, about the move, about relationships, about friends, about choices, about family all came pouring out.

I blame the yoga. When one remains busy and really, locked down both physically and emotionally (being professional ain't easy after a year of self-indulgence and living in the Nest!), pushing every muscle in your body "to the edge of the mat" and then releasing a lot of energy (which is kinda the point in good yoga, I think? Am I wrong?) makes for a breakdown.

It's like sex, I guess (insert silent scream of brother reading blog). I won't follow that thread for fear of traumatizing him, but there's that strange emotional surge sometimes that follows the physical. Feelings are good, feelings are fine, etc., but feelings are not ok when you cry yourself to sleep and wake up with puffy eyes just in time for your big all-day meeting. I'm concerned that this little explosion will happen for weeks before I'm done with whatever goop needs to get out. My therapist is laughing her ass off somewhere. Damn nirvana.