The Life Changing Magic of Downward Dog
When you’ve had a sh*t day, the worst in months, remember this.
One Friday at 6pm, I crawled into bed, turned off the lights, and found myself bawling my eyes out on the phone to my best friend.
I severely needed to pull it together for my date in one hour, AND I severely needed a Marie Kondo overhaul of my entire emotional state.
“Why can’t I get a break lately? Just one? It feels like anyyyyytime I truly want something, it fails. From relationships to my career...nothing pans out the way I hope. Am I being dramatic? Please tell me the truth.”
I recognize that I'm extremely lucky and incredibly blessed in many facets of my life, but somedays, it feels like the cards I’ve been dealt are a total bust.
I was having a totally, and utterly, SH*T DAY.
Frankly, not all I share on social media depicts my real life. But this day does.
My best friend doesn’t sugar coat things. A badass, loud, fast-talking, red-headed Canadian so street smart that she has a lumberjack for a Dad, doesn’t lie.
“To be honest, you’ve had a really shit year, eh? I’d be just as upset if I had experienced the same things.”
Outside of my Instagram life, 2018 was a very hard year. Panic-attack-inducing.
Sure, it involved glamorous trips to the Hamptons or Paris, but it also involved leaving a crumbling startup I absolutely adored, and getting heartbroken by several men from San Diego to London.
I got very close with one guy last Spring, and he turned out to be an actual narcissist. I talked to a guy living in London last Summer. Having a magical night out in NYC, we continued to facetime for hours a week. One month later we spent a week together. A few days after, he decided to end things with a two-sentence text.
The 2019 equivalent of the Carrie Bradshaw post-it note fiasco:
"Britt, London was cool. I don't see this continuing futher, best of luck."
I never heard from him again.
Somehow, I managed to meet all the unavailable men in almost an 8,000 mile stretch! Impressive, but total shit when you’re 32 and realize you’ve wasted a year
your egg count on people you’ll never talk to again.
Case in point, this is exactly why I've started to scientifically research why smart women continuously choose avoidant d-bags.
I was also totally lost with my career. Did I want to continue with marketing? The startup world? Why couldn’t I just find my dream job, and really, and again, I just don’t F*CKING understand, why haven’t I met my match? Okay, you get it. You get it.
So, that fateful Friday my emotions were completely cluttered with finding out that I didn't get a job I really wanted mixed with my romantic woes.
Recharging my batteries.
I pulled myself together for the date, and then took the entire weekend off for some major self-care.
Engrossing in books on the couch, drinking tea, productive errands, working out, and the only social thing I did was seeing friends for brunch where I managed a few meager laughs. By Sunday I was feeling calmer, but still a bit down.
Then a magical thing happened four days later, at approximately 8:30pm during a Y7 yoga class.
I felt stronger THAN I HAD IN MONTHS.
While my life had been upside-down dog, with what felt like an entire year, I realized that it’s the upside-down motion that actually relieves
your back life pains.
Sh*t days are lessons for for our future selves.
Hitting rock bottom on that Friday night turned out to be a blessing. It became a vivid marker of what a SH*T day really looked like.
Next time I’m stressed, or upset, I now have a recent day to compare it to. Is it a cry-in-your-bed-in-pure-darkness-to-your-best-friend kind of day?
Yes? It’ll pass in a week.
No? You’ll be fine by tomorrow.
My conclusion in yoga was that saddest part had passed, and sad parts always do.
Happiness is a choice.
“I’m tired of trying, working on myself, and staying positive” I had said.
“Well it’s continuing with that, or quitting. What would you rather do?” said Chantelle.
I guess the only choice you have is to sometimes attempt a four-legged chair pose and sweat your a** off.
“Or quit and do shavasana.” She said.
I’d rather burn the calories.
Nothing profound had happened the week following that Friday, but life is funny that way.
How was it possible for someone to feel the lowest they’ve been in months, to the highest, only a few days later?
I’m 33, and if you’re wondering it, of course I’ve had even worse days than this. But sometimes, we just need mental reminders that feelings in life are ephemeral. Downward-dog days are exact moments in time we use to evaluate the severity of situations.
Maybe OUR COMPLETELY and UTTERLY SH*T DAYS are life-changing magic.