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Shakti Journey: What Do I Really Want?

Captains Log: Day 2 Today was significantly different from yesterday's session. Our practice was mostly based in yoga which my body has got used to after weeks of yoga therapy. It felt good to make moves my body found familiar and I was a lot more comfortable today. As fate would have it - today we were asked to think about what we want most. The list started reeling off in my head but everything seemed to boil down to just one thing - stability. My insomnia gave me a hard time to fall asleep last night so this time I decided to add my sleeping mix. I'm currently feeling so grounded and calm from the session and I can feel my pill lulling me some more. Feeling the effects is reminding me of how much I wish I could function better without al the pills and therapy and precautions. But stability in my mental and physical health isn't all I need - I need it throughout my life. Within my home, my work, my interactions with others. The crippling anxiety that I deal with on a regu
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Shakti Journey: Day 1

  Captains Log: Day 1  (because I'm the captain of this body. Rawr!) So there I am, nose pressed to my pink yoga mat, beads of sweat or tears rolling down my face, plop ! What on Earth did I sign up for, I groan internally - internally because there's barely any air left in my lungs to force sounds out.  The truth is, over the burn and ache from my unfit body is my heart yelling, You better stick to it!  For too long I've been pledging, promising, declaring that I'll start exercising, being more active, taking care of my body. Yet, years later, the most I've been able to commit to is an hour of yoga therapy per week (thanks Trishan !). As beneficial as that has been, I have to admit that my body needs more activity.   One of the first things you'll hear when you start a new fitness programme or commit to a lifestyle change is that you need a goal, an endgame, something to work towards. Mine is fairly simple - I want to feel more comfortable in my body. Does t
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Playing House

Sometimes it feels like I'm playing house. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I'm still a tiny 12-year-old girl with buck teeth, fat, kinky plaits and crazy ideas of what it means to be an adult. In reality - I am so far from being that little girl. About 90lbs and 12 years away, to be frank. But as I roll out of bed, jarred awake by the shrill alarm and toddler fingers poking my eyelids, as I pad across the room in search of my glasses, wearing the same nightgown I wore as a teen, at that moment I don't feel 'big' enough to be a mom. To be responsible for another human being. Yet I am and have been for almost three years. It still comes as a shock at times to know that 'mom will do it' means me . I'll do it. That the tiny voice roaming through the house yelling for MOMMMY  is really searching for me . At times the reality of it seems so absurd I completely detach from it. I instinctively want to turn to my  mom, a more adulty adult, to take over.
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Requiem for a Bottle

She brings him a bottle every morning. Laying it right between our sleeping forms. I hear her as she pads into my room, presenting her prize like an offering to a tiny god. I never hear her leave, never hear her walk pass in the first place. She tries to be silent, to not wake us. I pretend to still be asleep, spooning the tiny body to my left as he stirs lightly. She brings him a bottle at 7:30 am, every day without fail. It's a simple gesture that says, "I know what you need." A simple reminder that she understands his routine. And when he awakens he reaches for it, so naturally, so expectantly. One small hand curling upward, between our forms, grasping the warm, full bottle. It's a simple gesture that says, "I know you didn't forget." A simple reminder that says he trusts her to respect his routine. She brings him a bottle but always leaves it closed - just in case , so he taps my eyelids, waking me. Without opening my eyes I remove the lid a
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Mom I Am

When I found out I was pregnant, I was shellshocked. Not shocked by the pregnancy but shocked by the reality of the situation. I was in my second year of university, dealing with very many personal issues and certain I didn't want children. I was sure I was pregnant before I did the test and even more certain that the confirmation would be too much for me to handle. So much so, actually, that I did the test right before my therapy session so I could immediately unload on my therapist. One little line, one small marking that completely changed my life, my identity, my purpose. We often hear moms saying that they don't want to be boxed in as 'just a mom', and as one such mom, I fully agree. But here's the fact: 'mom' is so big a role, so encompassing a responsibility, that it in so many ways overshadow any other label we previously had. Honestly, for a while, it felt as much like a diagnosis as it did a title. I couldn't simply go to the pharmacist a
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