MOVE WITH new life

On where I've been (answer: mostly in bed)

Dear friends, 

There’s a lot going on in the world right now. Everyone I know has a heart that’s hurting. As we all know, but sometimes helpful to hear from an outside source, it's ok to need to take a beat for yourself. Breaks from social media, from the news, from podcasts.

A bit of housekeeping before we get into the writing: I’ll be teaching a few times this week, including our monthly zoom– this month open to all for free. If you’re around for any of them, as always, I’d love to have you. 

• Saturday 10/14 11am ET Zoom Yoga

• Sunday 10/15 10:30am ET In-Studio Class at Astor & Broadway (sold out, but send a message if you want to come)

• Thursday 10/19 6pm ET ‘Move With Autumn’ a special, grounding season class for the season at Live The Process’ Tribeca Studio

MOVE WITH new life 

Hope II by Gustav Klimt

Today I’m 20 weeks pregnant (!!!). Both a wanted and planned pregnancy, and even still… wow, what a journey to be on!

The first trimester, which lasted till the end of summer for me, was really tough. The nausea felt never ending, the extreme fatigue made any attempt at exerting energy feel near-impossible. And what a strange experience it is to be going through such extreme changes and yet most everyone you interact with is not aware you’re pregnant. Not that I was going out to see people— most days I would move from bed, to couch, back to bed, other than the odd private yoga client or group class. Walking our dog felt like an accomplishment.  

But with all that time laying low comes a lot of space for sitting with yourself and all the feelings. Even with a caring partner, family and friends constantly checking in, and a great number of people in my life who have kids or are also currently pregnant right now, there has been this powerful presence of aloneness. I’ve been going through an expected but still unpredictable reckoning around my life as an individual forever changing. In some ways this time on my own is a gift– I know from moms that once you have kids, “alone time” becomes sacred. And here I am in the final months of my autonomous control over that. The new reality of soon having another being be utterly dependent on me sinks in more and more each day. And its a strange thing, because right now I’m actually never alone; I’m always with my child. It’s almost like I’ve retreated into a cave to build this babe, and until they’re out, I just have to be in here tinkering away… a very solo activity during this stage of the journey.

I’ve tried to keep up with activities I associate with regular life. I went to dance class a few times, but my back went into a spasm… my body telling me that things are changing, and I need to adjust course. I was trying to be social and go to parties, go see dance shows, go out to dinner… but in the midst I picked up a cough that for the last number of weeks won’t leave my system (my midwife assures me this is par for the course, I swear I’m not contagious!). But in the end, what I’ve started to accept is that life isn’t going to be so regular from now on, and nor should it be. I’ve always enjoyed the force of time and the need for change and had a curiosity about what evolutions might bring. But I would be lying if I said that even with my excitement and joy around this next step, there wasn’t also varying degrees of anxiety and fear. There’s comfort in knowing that so many have gone through this before and so many will go through this after, and yet… it's still so individual and almost in a sense this passageway it feels I have to crawl through for the next stage of my journey. 

Being in my second trimester, things have definitely gotten easier– nausea has subsided and I have more energy. But then the comedy of my back going out, then getting this cough, then coughing in bed and sending my back back into spasm, etc. has just left me in a spot that I have to laugh at. But also cry… because wow the emotions I feel and the tidal wave quickness and fullness that they come on is wild. Writing this I watched the dance clip of Mira Sorvino, Lisa Kudrow and Alan Cumming in “Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion” and started sobbing. After immediately sending it to my college best friends, since it's our eternal joke that we would perform it in alternating roles at each of our weddings, I watched it about ten more times. Then Ian came out and, shocked, asked me what was wrong and all I could do was stand up for a hug and continue to cry.

These emotions are definitely seeded farther than the epic dance scene, the Hamas attacks on Israel and the quick plunge of life into chaos for so many people I know has been gut wrenching. The way as humans across the world we continue to get thrown into these extreme states of distress so quickly – our little bodies, minds and hearts don’t feel equipped to handle it all. 

So alas, with the wildness of what's happening inside me, alongside the wildness of what’s happening outside of me, I’m here. I’m allowing myself to stay slow, to lay low, to work and rework my connection to the ground, to earthiness. And I suppose that’s what the fall encourages us to do. To unwind from the loftiness of the warmer months and start to head towards hunkering. If you’re currently on a similar journey and have any desire to connect, I’m here! Funnily, I have a good number of friends also pregnant which is beautiful, so I’d love to continue to expand the network!!

Love to all of you, love to all the kids, gtg cry a little more!!

xx, CK