Awkward Tea Time?

I feel like I have swallowed some hot steal and it is now solidifying in my stomach, but don't worry because it's all good.

Last night I was left in a potentially awkward situation and, as usual, I created an even greater awkward situation in an attempt to remove any awkwardness.

My roommate brought a friend over to stay for the night but then my roommate disappeared and I was left alone with this friend. While it was really fun to get ready for bed with a battle waging in my head, say something, anything at all really kicked be quiet and revel in the awkward silence right in the bum because all of a sudden I said "if you'd like, I have a few different teas and we could make some tea before we go to bed."

Luckily this friend said she really loved tea and we spent the next few minutes smelling tea and discussing different tea related things.

Even though she didn't end up choosing anything, I thought that the whole thing was a remarkable success and I went to bed fully prepared to drift off into a peaceful slumber. I was prepared... but I didn't drift very quickly. I was still partially awake when my roommate came back and got herself ready for bed.

She was just having a quiet little chat with her friend but when I very clearly heard my roommate say "her tea collection?!" followed by some laughter, I could feel my something sickeningly heavy form in my stomach.

*Inner battle again*
Oh my goooosh I should just hide my teas. I should just take my box of tea somewhere else and stop being so dorky
vs
Screw what anybody else has to say about that, I'll do what I want. What in the world am I feeling uncomfortable about? 

It was a very strange moment, I felt like I was outside of my mind and I was simply a spectator watching on as mature-confident-Dorothy comforted intimated-self-conscious-pre-Wasatch-Academy-Dorothy.

Is there any reason to be ashamed of something that brings happiness? Tea makes me incredibly happy and I remember, very vividly, cheering myself up by thinking about moving in with my previous roommate and being able to use her tea kettle. That is literally what I would say to myself to snap out of a bad mood.

And it did cheer me up. It did more than cheer me up.

If I didn't feel like getting out of bed and facing the world? That's alright, I only needed to get out of bed to start boiling the water for some tea.
If I didn't know how I was going to make it through my homework all I really needed to do was make it through a cuppa (and the next cuppa and the next cuppa).
If I felt like crying and screaming and banging my fists on the floor... I only needed to hold my mug in my shaky hands, sip on the hot hot liquid, blow the steam from my mug and remind myself that it would all be better eventually.

Yes, I have quite a lot of tea. No, I'm not going to hide it or the fact that I love it. And I'm not embarrassed because, honestly, why should I be?

Just trying to sort out my feelings. Happy tea drinking!

Sincerely, Dot


ps. I think that passion about anything at all is a really stunning thing. No matter if your passion doesn't make sense to a few other people, never let your passion die! Nothing is worse than apathy.

pps. I am going to put my kettle on so let me know if you want some tea before we go to bed (:

Trust The Process

Too often I've found myself thinking of things with a "start and finish" type of mentality. I've envisioned the end result as a final destination, kinda like how the Candy Castle is the destination in a game of Candy Land. In the past few years I've entered a lot of situations thinking that if I started at this certain point and did these certain things in this certain order... then I would end up at this certain destination with all the happiness in the world. I was being incredibly naïve. Yes, very incredibly.

(In case your life was devoid of the magical board game known as Candy Land)

I used this way of thinking to effectively destroy my sanity while I was recovering from knee surgery. My plan was "if I receive the surgery on this month then I'll be recovered by this month and then receive my second surgery and be all better by the time this month starts."

Well the Universe certainly didn't hesitate to tell me that my plan was not going to work. In fact, the Universe thought it would be a great idea to illustrate how painfully rushed my plan was by moving me along at a snails pace.

My idea with this entry wasn't to moan about how slowly my rehab progressed or how slowly I was able to travel with a leg brace and a walker, what I'm trying to get at is that once I decided to trust the process things sped up at a breathtaking rate.

When I took a breath and realized that it wasn't doing me any good to cry about missed opportunities  I started to really put my effort into exactly what I was doing at any precise moment. My second round of knee surgery was a breeze and a half compared to first and my physical therapist even admitted that I had no use of his help for more than six visits into the second round of physical therapy because I was surpassing the requirements of physical ability required for discharge.

Taking on a completely different approach to my second knee adventure seemed to change everything because within the first two weeks of recovery my knee was all bendy and stretchy at that was a huge deal (seriously huge, I could tell a few more stories about Rachel helping me bend my leg and hold it and lift it for me but I think I'll save that for a time when I'm in a humorous mood). I ditched the walker a few days after the procedure and I didn't even look at the crutches after the one month mark.

Blah blah blah, physical therapy, blah. I'm just in a super good mood because right now, eleven months after my right knee surgery and six months after my left knee surgery, I'm walking around like a pro. I'm riding my bike to class and my knees are bending as if I was born to bend them. My crinkly crackly arthritis is so minimal, some days I don't feel a thing when I place my hand on my patella and move it around (this is also largely a contribution of what types of foods I eat) and I am finally able to dance again.

Let me repeat FINALLY DANCING!

As in DANCING ONCE AGAIN!

Meaning that after an excruciating hiatus I am now doing the plies and tendues and dégagés and chaines that my body has been craving.

Of course, I've lost a good deal of my muscle and building my strength back up is sometimes a daunting task. On occasion I've found myself thinking "right, well I can just focus on my math and science classes and I'll find some career that will make me content" but then when I begin to trust the process I find that I have made really incredible progress and it encourages me to keep going. The comparison of me now to me in September 2013 makes me so happy!!!! I could jump around and cry (but I don't. I do my sautés like serious dancer. lol).

Trusting the process can seem super cheesy, but hey, trust the process (: 

Today is one of the days that I have a ballet class and I'm just about to head off to the gym to warm up my body and practice some leg strengthening. I'll warm up by cycling on a bike for a good thirty minutes and I love taking the time to do this because I can reaffirm that I want to keep getting stronger and I want to dance and live life without unnecessary pain. 

Maybe trusting the process is something that everyone should try. Are you cooking something? Are you trying to build a thing? Is something stressing you out and making you want to call it quits? The steps, instructions, pattern, technique, strategy, routine... it's there for a reason. If you're trying to power your way though and it doesn't seem to be working just try letting yourself trust the process. Just my advice. I can't say it's failed me so far. 

Good luck

Sincerely, Dot