I was also working on trying to organize a prenatal yoga workshop, potentially through the hospital not far from Castleton. I was certified, and I didn’t teach that as much, but it seemed a waste not to use my certification. Plus, I could charge more for those specialized classes.
In the afternoon, I grabbed a quick snack and then decided to take a walk in the woods. There was a trail next to an apartment building near the edge of Castleton where a lot of people walked their dogs and did their daily run.
I liked to just walk and listen, soaking up the glory of nature. There was something wonderful about being surrounded by so many green and growing things. So many animals going about their lives. It made me feel small and insignificant, but in a good way. The ocean made me feel the same.
A woodpecker somewhere was going to town on a tree trunk, and other various creatures scurried under the leaves and looked for food as I inhaled and did what I thought of as a walking meditation. It was a great way to center myself and let my brain work through any problems I was having. Whenever I had some problem I just couldn’t solve by thinking about it, I let it go and told my brain to think about anything else. Nine times out of ten, a solution would come to me when I least expected it.
Sometimes I used a mantra, repeating it with every step. Sometimes I hummed to myself. Today, I was just listening. Focusing on the crunch of my feet, the beat of my heart, and all the noises around me. Sometimes it was almost overwhelming, realizing how much noise was all around us.
As brains are wont to do, mine drifted from thinking about sounds to thinking about projects I’d been putting off, what I was going to eat later, when I should do laundry, and thinking about my weekend.
And then there was Piper. It was easy to conjure her face in my mind, in the midst of that beautiful home. Piper’s house was a grown-up home. The kind of home where you went to a showroom to pick out a slab of granite from Italy for the counters. Where you had to decide if you wanted to go all-in on shiplap, or if it was just a trend you’d regret in a few years. Piper had a son and an ex-husband. I couldn’t even conceive of either of those things, and not just because I hadn’t dated anyone seriously. Piper had so much responsibility. Not only her son, but her own company. Sure, I had my little traveling yoga studio, but it was just me. I didn’t have employees. I mean, I had a few freelancers who would help me with stuff every now and then, but I was on my own. And the thing was, I knew if I crashed and burned at this tomorrow, I could head back to Arrowbridge and my parents would catch me. They weren’t rich by any means, but they had a cushion if I fell. If I failed.
I used to worry a lot more about failure in the first year. I would constantly ask myself what the fuck I was doing and who the hell I thought I was. Who would want to take yoga from me when they had so many other options?
Impostor syndrome was a loud demon that loved to knock on my door when I least expected it.
Just as I was getting tangled in my own thoughts, a text message from River came through.
Funny yoga story: someone kept their heels on for my whole class. Like, actual heels while wearing their yoga clothes. I said she should take them off and she refused, so I told her whatever. It’s her body.
Oh my god I responded. That’s a new one.
I’ve had sneakers before, but heels? Who are you trying to impress?
I laughed and slowed my walk so I wouldn’t trip while we talked back and forth.
How’s everything going up there in lobster country? she asked.
We don’t eat that much lobster here. At least not in my family. Do you know how much lobster you need to feed nine people? Things are good. I had beach yoga this morning and I’m just taking an afternoon walk. You?
River taught classes constantly. I really didn’t know where she got the energy, and she didn’t even drink coffee. Neither did I, but I would collapse with her schedule.
I have a private in a half hour and then Funky Flow tonight.
River was always coming up with offbeat class ideas, and her Funky Flow was seriously cool. She always picked interesting music and came up with sequences you didn’t think would work, but actually fit together when you started to move. Sometimes River intimidated me with her coolness.
I wish we were getting sushi together I replied.
Do they even have sushi where you are? she asked.
We have lots of fish, but no sushi in Castleton I told her. I really needed to find sushi somewhere because I’d had a craving for weeks now.
New England is weird River responded.
Tell me about it I replied.
Amanda was in the garden when I got back. She had an absolutely lovely vegetable and herb garden that kept everyone supplied with tomatoes and thyme and cucumbers.
“I was thinking of doing a big summer pasta salad with dinner,” she said as I walked around the back of the farmhouse to join her. Sometimes I’d help her, since I figured it was the least I could do. I plucked a leaf of basil and crushed it between my fingers, inhaling the rich green smell.
“That sounds great,” I said. “Just let me know when you want to do your class too.” I’d already said that complimentary private yoga classes were part of me staying, and I wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“How about restorative today after all this weeding?” Amanda said, stretching her back and wincing. “These bones aren’t as flexible as they used to be.”
“Sounds great. I’ll get out the cushions.” I moved to head back into the house.
“How’s your stay been? We haven’t talked in a few days,” Amanda said. Yet another instance of her trying to mother me. In spite of me having a mother just a few towns away that I would be seeing on Sunday.
“It’s been wonderful. I really felt like I needed a reset,” I said. It had been too long since I’d seen my family. Something inside me had said it was time to come home, to rest. At least until I figured out my next adventure.
“Well, just so you know, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need. There’s always room for you here.” She smiled at me, and she looked so much like both of her daughters.
“Thanks, that means a lot.”
She dusted off her hands and followed me through the back door into the kitchen to wash up.
Amanda and I did a nice short restorative class in the living room before Hollis wandered over to figure out what we were up to. She brought Lucky, who started doing laps in the living room.
“Can I get your opinion?” Hollis asked me. She did freelance graphic design focused on book covers, and sometimes she got stuck and needed the opinion of anyone who was around. More often than not, that was me and Amanda.
“Yeah, sure.” I did some of my own stuff for my website and social media, but I wasn’t an artist like Hollis. I outsourced anything that was harder than using a template.
“Okay, so I can’t tell what’s wrong. There’s something wrong, but I can’t put my finger on it.” She pulled up an image on her phone and handed it to me.
“Oh,” was my immediate reaction. The cover was done in the style of those old romance paperbacks with a lady in a gown and a shirtless dude clutching her in a sexy position, except for the guy in this case was blue and had tentacles for arms.
“The font in the title feels squished,” I said, going with my first instinct.