i always find it somewhat annoying when people use the phrase, ‘back to my roots’.

i guess i’ve always encountered people who use that phrase to be people who really have no idea what their roots really are.

i didn’t find myself going back to my roots this weekend but going back to 2008.  the year i took baking to the next level and spent hours waiting for dough to rise and watching the sun come up with a loaf in the oven making the house smell like something out of a television show about a family that lived in the woods and made their own food and wrapped up their problems in 45 minutes because love and understanding is all you need… or something like that.

i relapsed into sickness by waking up saturday morning with that crusty, achy, sore throaty kinda feeling.  i got out of bed, put on yoga clothes and found myself sitting on the edge of the tub brushing my teeth because i was too achy to stand up.  this was when it hit me that it might not be a good idea to go to yoga feeling this way.

but i also didn’t think i could crawl back into bed. while i felt ill i felt like lying down was not something my body wanted at that moment so i packed up the books and went to the summit to draw and read about fascia. that was followed by a trip to the store for soup making things and i made a vat of soup for the dr. and i.

i had an appointment with maria for a massage since she wasn’t feeling so great and her neck had been jacked up which also included some peripheral arm pain which, of course, made me think TOS!, TOS!

Thoracic Outlet Syndrome will now be showing up everywhere, i’m sure.

despite feeling sickly and because i am my mother’s daughter (read: stubborn) i kept the appointment and did the massage.  surprisingly enough i felt better afterwards.  miss maria hung out for a bit and i ended up crawling into the poof chair to read and by read i mean take a nap.

i am realizing i can no longer read while reclined in any manner.  it’s a one way ticket to snoozetown with no promise of return.

i woke up and the dr. had made dinner.  god i love him.

the 2 hour nap though had me awake until 2AM studying and drawing boney structures.

i find most of my free time is spent thinking about soft tissue and boney structures.  it’s like some sort of sickness, really.

despite such a late bedtime i was awake early sunday and made the same trek to the summit for study and drawing.  i’m realizing how much i love this routine.

i had fed my sourdough starter the night before and poured some out into a bowl to ferment on the counter knowing i wanted to do some sort of baking sunday.

after study time at the summit i found myself elbow deep in doughy goop.

god i love it.  i kneaded for what seemed like hours and there was something so completely theraputic about the whole experience.

i had forgotten what it was like to manipulate dough and work it until it was the right consistency where there was enough gluten strands formed to ensure the right kind of texture you want for your bread.

as i kneaded my brain made the obvious connection to massage and i was  surprised i had never thought about it before.  manipulating soft tissues until the right consistency is reached…i wanted to slap my own self.   ‘duh.

friends came over for art day and i fed them carbs which, of course, made all of us happy.   later on in the evening i tested out some myofascial release stuff i learned wanting to get his opinion on how it felt (result:  it hurts in the good kinda way).  i also tried some pectoral stretches and hip openers i knew but hadn’t had the balls to try yet in clinic (i need to get over that).  i also did the psoas trigger point stretch that brought me to tears but he didn’t feel much of a stretch but then again the dr.’s back bends are phenomenal and his front body is very open, the opposite of mine.

he is pliable.  i am mostly not.  except for my hyper extended knees and elbows.

par of the course i was up later than i wanted to be reading about the blood vessels that travel to the brain.  it’s a wonder how i function.  i keep expecting to go to bed one night and not wake up until 7 days later to make up for all the sleep i’ve lost these past couple of months (even though i know you can’t quite catch up in that manner).   it’s my last week of the advanced program which makes me feel like ‘WHEEE, YES!!! SOMEONE HAND ME A DRINK!’ but it also makes me feel like i’m now supposed to do something real with this schooling.  i need to redefine what is real for me though and learn how to be gentle with myself.  i don’t need to dive in face first.  i need to finish my clinic hours, i need to finish that one pesky fundamentals class i need to take.  i need to apply for my license.

and i need to rest.

it’s hard to really see how you feel when you’re in the middle of all this business.  i’ve been trying to make decisions and plan out 2012 while i’ve been drowning in work, school and this ubiquitous pressure to do something great that no one but myself is putting on myself.

i’m looking forward to going back to 2008, the year of the layoff and reliving some of its finer aspects.  lots of bad things happened in the beginning of that year.  i was dumped by my boyfriend.  i lost my job. i spent most of january trying really hard to gain an unhealthy nyquil addiction so i wouldn’t have to deal with the things i didn’t want to deal with.  things were bad but the moment i stepped outside of those bad feelings, put them aside to try and be happy again, to try and feel good, i found so many good things that were worth living life for. free time to spend on whatever i wanted to do, park days with friends, yoga,  baking, reading books, writing books and being in love.


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