La Mulatta Tragique

Centered in Society

01:03, Friday, September 22, 2006 .. 0 comments .. Link

"Smile!" the black men tell me as I'm walking home. "Why do you look so serious?" Always black men, always in the few blocks between the subway station and home, usually on my walk home at night. I guess it is my hyper vigilance--I always feel over exposed when I'm walking out on the street, and in a sense we all are. Anyone can approach you for whatever reason, and at any given time you could have to break from your stream of thought and respond to a complete stranger's requests, and on top of it do so in a timely fashion so that you are not the one to come off as strange or weird. Welcome to the mindset of a sociophobe.

Or perhaps I'm just easily startled because my thoughts wander as a course of habit. I guess I never noticed as much in high school because the name of the game is how to distract yourself for the 45 minutes between each class bell. It got harder in college when I was actually expected to read and write material longer than five pages as well as comprehend it. But now that I've entered the world of the office job, the sneaking suspicion that I have a vicious case of undiagnosed ADD won't shake free. However, hypochondria is one of my stronger personality traits and I've always had an affinity for diagnosing myself, as every therapist I've ever had has soon discovered.

Anyway, these men always seem to think I look pissed off or stoic and that irks me even more because it gives me a sneaking suspicion that I still carry the air of "Don't cross my path or I'll bite your head off" that I mastered in high school to cover up for the fact that I was completely terrified of the power people, whom I only want to be accepted by, have over my tumultuous emotions, which dictate my well-being.

So even the guy in the subway this afternoon who yes, was Black, and yes, startled me by saying "I like your hair" out of the blue, (which was strange in and of itself because my hair was sopping wet) stood in a place of empowerment over me. I live too much for others, for their approval, for their feedback, for their verication that I exist at all how much value I hold in the world. I don't know how I aquired this dependence on others as a barometer for my social relevance but it is a constant struggle to stay "centered" in the sense that I matter first, others aren't as powerful or scary as I think they are, and that my world is my to make.

I need experiences like the one I had this morning in my yoga class. Although everytime I enter a yoga class I swallow my cyncism with a spoonful of pride and resign myself to deal with the new age culture shock. It's not so much the concept behind yoga that make me wary and suspicious but instead that so many Americans subscribe thoughtlessly to this one in a million other trends they buy into. Hey, if a trend works for you, great, but don't try it just because it's a trend. I guess that's why I'm so of wary of yoga; I resisted it for the longest time with my standard practice of shunning trendy pop culture. Although I will admit to thinking more of myself than the dumb blonde walking next to me in crappy pink velour with "juicy" stamped on her ass, my basic resistance to following trends is that there is no point! It is a endless race to not only keep up with what's in fashion (which is recycled at an alarming rate) but in the end you only end up looking completely unoriginal.

Anyway, yoga. Today it was quite spiritual. It touched on a lot of my insecurities and my worries of becoming a sheep in a cubicle. He spoke a little about how unnatural it is for us to sit all day in a chair and I was like, rock on, Mr. touchy-feely venezuelan yoga dude! Like other yoga experiences I've had, I've walked into class distracted. My first time was right after I got dumped the guy I was seeing. I wasn't until I was forced to utilize my body that I actually came back down into and realized, hey, it's not about him: what he thinks, why he did it, if he will call, if I will ever see him again, it's about me!

Today's experience was similar. Working in a new office is a foreign environment and I still feel unsure of how and where I fit in. I like everyone just fine but I haven't found my own rhythym yet. I waver between self-doubt and worry and assuredness with a dash of boredom. I approached the yoga class with the same attitude. Would I be the least experienced? Would people give me strange looks? What about my outfit? Would my lack of experience piss off the teacher?

By the time I felt the centeredness kick as my body responded to my requests Wrong questions to ask. The students were there to learn, not tear me apart and the teacher was there to guide me. He had us do exercises in conquering fear by going into handstands. It was really hard, but realizing I had those fears in the first place was really therapeutic. "Acknowledge the fear, but do not surrender to it," he instructed us. Okay, I freaked out and came out of my last handstand early but at least I tried!

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