In and Out of Confidence

Well, I was pretty well inspired by Amba today and so I jumped enthusiastically onto my treadmill allying flesh and spirit together. Actually, I love exercising, so usually I don't need a tremendous amount of encouragement. I do an almost daily regimen of treadmill walking and running for 45 minutes, lift those 8 pound weights for awhile, and then my beautiful twenty five minutes of yoga, which I have been doing regularly, steadily since I was in my twenties and studied to be a yoga instructor with Swami Ji Sivalingam. 

Swami Ji gave me the name of a river in India - Amaravati Devi. I think it is a metaphor for a mother. Six years ago when Tom and I were married Gilad (scroll down) wrote a jazz piece in my honor called "Amaravati Devi is Getting Married." I thought about that as I was huffing and puffing on the treadmill because in two days time Tom and I will celebrate our anniversary. I cannot believe that we have survived the move to Philadelphia intact. And yet, I think we have become even better friends than ever. Phew! What a struggle.

Looking at my stats counter graph I see a resemblance to my state of mind. High mountains and deep valleys! I have been struggling for a few months about my self worth and confidence level. Some of you have been reading these ramblings and reflections and I appreciate the time you have taken to journey with me about this. My biggest struggle was losing my mini-empire at work and teaching and finding myself alone with me. The losses and alone time threw me into a spin. Who was I? Who am I? What worth am I? Will I be of worth again?

In fact, I have to admit that at times, it has been agony.

First I looked at my childhood relationships and how self worth seemed to be connected to my needing acknowledgment and recognition. Then I looked at how grieving affects the way I feel. I have been mourning the loss of my home, city, state, friends, jobs, colleagues, lovers, Charlie, Mar-Mar, marriages, father, aborted children, Africa, Israel, Holland. I experienced all of them differently. Sometimes while walking down a new street in Chestnut Hill, pain suddenly rises in my chest, or I awaken from sleep with a heavy heart. Once I woke out of a dream where I had fallen to my knees and then lay sprawled, face down, sobbing, "I just want to go home." The atmosphere and pain of that dream took almost the whole day to wear off.

For awhile I wondered if my self-worth might be connected to how I look, my fuzzy hair or sexuality. I touched on these reflections superficially scratching the surface of what I feel about myself in relation to my physical presence.

Today I think I have realized that who I am depends on what I am able to contribute to those around me, future teachers, friends, colleagues, society, and, even, the world! If I am unable to give of myself through acts of compassion, lectures, writings, and, even, singing, then I am nothing. It seems so much bigger or deeper than simply feeling like I am worthwhile when I am needed. I want to contribute all I have to offer. It feels good to do that. There is a sense of purpose, or meaning to living this life when I can do that. I struggled for years after Charlie died trying to grasp the meaning of life. His illness and death seemed too senseless and cruel, and I just simply missed him so much. Slowly I came to understand that's just how life is - sometimes mysterious, sometimes senseless, wondrous and marvelous, always complex and often confusing. And that's okay.

So I am at the top of one of those graph-like hills today. Is it because I know for sure where I will be working in the fall and it fits perfectly with our new life and surroundings? It might be because Molly and Ada seem truly settled lately - nothing big - just a subtle sense that their world is not shaking any longer. Is it because I awoke without remembering my dreams this morning? After all, I'm still the same old me. Fifty five - going on 56 - not as sexually attractive as when I was 32, still with curly, frizzy hair, alone each day in a new place, city and state, and some siblings still ignoring my presence. It might be because I spent a week in Charleston with many colleagues who seemed to appreciate my expertise and laughed at my jokes. Hmm ... and then I wonder, is it just hormones?

Maybe it is just that time heals all.

Running and walking in place is never the most inspiring environment although I have a large window that looks out on trees where many different birds alight before they continue on their way to the feeder around the corner. Sometimes Sheryl Crow warbles in my ear through my MP3 player.

Today she sang, "If it makes you happy, it can't be that bad. If it makes you happy, then why the hell are you so sad?"

Was she yelling it at me?

Comments

[franchini]

Hi Tamar. We have almost the same exercise routine. I huff and puff through the cardio stuff which I see as a chore and then have an hour and a quarter of yoga which I love. I have only been doing yoga for 6 months or so but even in that time have seen real improvements in my flexibility. It's made a great contribution to my mental health too.

[Jean]

Hello Tamar, I love your blog. I love what you wrote today. But how about: who you are just depends on who you are, just being beatiful, clever, compassionate you? I don't believe that being depends on doing. Haven't achieved a lot myself, despite much trying, and sometimes I feel that's a blessing because it's forced me to learn the hard, hard lesson of not basing my self-worth entirely on what I do. Of course, it's a lesson I still struggle with in our achievement-oriented society (and of course, I'm not *against* achievement and working hard for it), but...

[Tamar]

Franchini, Yes yoga has always filled me with love and joy. So strange.

Jean, thanks for enjoying my blog! I know, I am working hard at trying to feel worthwhile just by being me. It's such a struggle. I cannot imagine that you have not achieved a lot! I saw your blog - the flowers took my breath away.

[Richard Lawrence Cohen]

Tamar,
I admire your bravery in putting so much of yourself on your blog, and your energy in exercising frequently. I can use them as role models. (Well, actually, I may not want to show that much of myself on my blog...)

And I treasure the friends I've found in the past four months of blogging, even though I may not ever meet them in person. It means more to me than I would have ever expected.

[Tamar]

Richard, I know what you mean. I really treasure the people I've "met" while blogging.

Am not sure if it's courage - the way I put myself out there! I think about that a lot in all of my life experiences. Thank you for noticing, though...

[nappy40]

Ditto to what Richard wrote. The way you put yourself out there is nothing but courage.

[Tamar]

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! This makes me feel very courageous! Thanks so much for your support, NF!