Showing posts with label stress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stress. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 03, 2022

doing hard things

a moment of serenity in the greenhouse when i got home.

dang, today was hard. a very long project is about to come to fruition. a year and a half of work. and weirdly, today, one day before launch, we found ourselves in a holding pattern. there was a major bug and the development team was working frantically, and the rest of us just had to wait. finally, the decision was made to just roll back, without really figuring out what the hell caused the bug. and although most of the day was spent waiting and not really doing all that much, damn, it takes a psychological toll. i swear, we're all going to need therapy after this. i am completely wrung out this evening. i was going to keep editing and checking pages, but instead, i'm telling myself that no one will actually read all. the. pages. tomorrow when we launch in the first two languages, so, as the danes say, "det skal nok gå." (it'll be all right) and i'm taking myself off to bed after a long, hot shower and a rather large glass of wine. i'll put a cozy mystery (this time, the royal spyness series by rhys bowen), curl up with a cat and fall asleep. the hard part isn't over yet, but it will all be easier after a good night's sleep. and thank odin for good colleagues. 

Thursday, April 20, 2017

yoga and the unquiet mind


the sound of mats and heavy cream-colored yoga blankets being spread out. yawns and deep breaths as everyone settles in, trying to let go of a busy day and be there, on the mat, in the cool, dimly-lit room. the woman next to me massages her ovaries with abandon. on the other side, someone places a purple block under her lower back and stretches out, sighing deeply. i try to do the same (minus the ovary massage part). try to land there, in the room, in the cool, in the hush, to quiet my mind and leave my day behind. a siren blares outside. i wiggle around on my mat, trying to block it out. the instructor comes in. he's my favorite for now, while my other favorite is on maternity leave. i wonder briefly if that's ok, to have a favorite in her absence. i decide it is and try to clear my mind again. it flits gaily off to my undone to-do list. then to an afternoon conversation, then back to the list. i pull it back to the room, picturing in my mind my straining arm muscles, physically trying to pull my mind back to be here. present. in this room. right now. it sticks out its tongue and flounces off, cursing the travel agency, skating over an unfinished risk assessment, pausing over powerpoint and that two hours i'll never have back.

we start with that half moon pose, lying on our backs, legs curved to the right, left one crossed over right, arms stretched out to the right. i love this pose, except when i get a muscle cramp in my back, just beneath my shoulder blade. it loosens and i realize that i've just counted to 89 without even realizing it. stupid, restless mind. i mentally strain the muscles in my arms again, dragging it back to the room, to my purple mat. telling it to stay. it does, for about two seconds, like a disobedient dog. i'm not a dog person.

i think about the dentist appointment i made, the trips ahead, my undone to-do list, that obsession we have with cake at work, how that woman beside me massaged her ovaries, what's for dinner, yesterday's productive late meeting, how awesome it is to work with creative people. so many thoughts, so loud, so active. SO not present here, in this room, in these long stretches, that my muscles are longing for, but which my restless mind is clearly rejecting.

we do that position where you sit on your knees, feet out to the sides of your posterior and lie back over a yoga bolster. i always put a block under the end of my bolster, so it's at an angle, as my neck doesn't like leaning back. it's one of my favorite positions. mostly because i can do it easily and many others cannot. it makes me feel better about how i can't bend forward and touch my knees with my nose in those folded forward positions that seem so easy for everyone else. i wonder why it's easy for me and i enjoy the stretch on the front of my thighs. it's here i can still feel the remnants of how the nerves in my left leg were affected by my back problems of a year and a half ago, but i find it interesting and not painful. it feels like i'm helping the nerves heal. and for a few minutes, i'm there, in my body. my mind stops flitting around.

but then we lie back on the mat, to feel the buzz of the intense position. and my mind runs away again. back to the list, and the alzheimer's and the travel plans and the dentist and dinner. and as i once again reach 89 in the endless unconscious count, i remember that i'm practicing.

Monday, October 12, 2009

stress!!!



i am here to report that it's very stressful to sell your house. or actually, to get ready to sell your house. you find yourself watching your husband doing all sorts of things that should have been done ages ago--painting those closet doors, finishing up the baseboards, pudsing the outside of the house (like stucco without the swirly frosting-like look--it just covers up the bricks), painting all that 70s brown wood on the outside of the house black, cleaning like mad (or having the cleaning girls clean like mad while you tidy like mad), trying to keep the kids entertained and from making too much of a big mess, baking gingerbread, lighting candles, making a new table runner (because you felt you must for the photos).



and then, the photographer (whom the realty company made you use) shows up two hours before you expect her and she wants drawings of the house and you can't find what husband has done with those notebooks of the drawings and you try to call him 15 times, but his phone is on silent, so you not so silently take his name in vain while you frantically try to locate the friggin' drawings with visions of his blood satisfyingly splattered on the walls above his desk swarming in your head. and the guy who makes the report on the house is here too and he's asking you to make copies of things. and you just want to get the studio ready for photos after three girls made new plushies creatures all weekend.





which turned out very well, but left a sea of bits of fabric in their wake. and you thought you had 'til noon to get it ready, so you were really, really surprised to find the photographer, who incidentally, has a canon (insert huge sigh here), at your door at 10. and you're not sure about the angles she's taking and she won't really listen to you as to what the best angles are in YOUR blue room and it seems she doesn't really want to take more than 1 picture of each room, which you think is really pretty poor considering the small fortune (equivalent of 3 50mm 1:4 nikkor lenses) you are paying her to take these photos of your house with her friggin' copy machine.


#77 - reversible table runner

all you can say is that they'd better be better than your own photos or you are definitely going to be filling that grudge book that spud gave you. because you already devoted several pages to husband and his lack of answering his phone and telling you the wrong time for the photographer lady. and in fact, you actually told him when he got home that you were breaking up with him. at least 'til 4, when you're going to meet him at tivoli.