This Must Be The Place.

I have a big meeting for work on Monday, one I've spent the past two + weeks prepping like a mad woman for; processing data, reviewing spreadsheets, working on power points, and collaborating with other people on my team.  In a way it feels like I'm cramming for a final exam, doing my best to anticipate what questions I'll be asked, what answers I should prepare.

On Friday afternoon, as I tweaked my power point slides for what felt like the hundredth time, I was feeling pretty confident.  Even when my profit margins weren't as great as I'd like them to be, or my title's expenses were higher than we'd like, I at least had a reason why.  I had a good guess as to where, why, and when I'd get questions; felt pretty solid in my arguments and observations.

Until I received a call from a colleague around 3pm, following up about something I'd long thought was on the move and taken care of.  They brought up the meeting on Monday, asked some questions, and left a few dramatic sentences lingering in the air as they hung up.  In short, they rattled me; making me question my entire strategy and business plan.

I left work that afternoon frustrated, stressed out, and quite honestly, angry.  You cannot call someone up in the final hours before a presentation and throw out just enough information to make the presenter feel uninformed and ill-prepared.  Particularly when the information had been waiting in the queue to be reviewed weeks prior as I was working diligently to avoid exactly the situation that unfolded.  I lugged my work laptop home, knowing I'd be devoting some of my weekend to more work and more prepping for Monday. I promised myself I wouldn't look at the work on Friday evening at least, giving myself some time to unwind, clear my head, and calm down.  However, I did go to bed thinking about the recent curve ball, tossing and turning fitfully in my agitated state.

Saturday morning, I woke up and pulled myself out of bed for yoga, knowing as I do by now that the times when I haven't been to class in awhile are the times I need it the most.  It was a rainy, chilly, classic Northeast April day, and while I physically made it to my yoga mat, and my favorite teacher was running the class, I was having a very hard time concentrating; allowing myself to mentally be there and be present.  About half-way through the class I started to tell myself to just give in to the fact that this wasn't my strongest class; to allow myself to take the easiest pose options whenever they were presented, which is not my usual method of operation.  I don't think I'd classify myself as the type of person who opts for "the easy way out." 

As class progressed, my teacher had us move our mats to the walls to work on our headstands.  I have written before about how difficult headstands are for me; they - along with their cousin, the handstand - are probably the two yoga moves that pose the biggest challenges for me.  Blame it on my long legs or my tall frame, but damn they are always hard. Always.  On Saturday, when my teacher announced this was our next step in class, I thought to myself.  "Great.  Just what I need today.  The chance to remind myself of another thing I cannot seem to grasp."

My yoga teacher usually walks us through setting up for a headstand the same way each time.  I always follow along perfectly right up until the point where we've lifted one leg off the ground and are to "hop" on our other foot, propelling ourselves upside down.  This is where I get stuck.  And yesterday, I was feeling so overwhelmed about the issues with work and dealing with that ordeal that I was ready to just be stuck; to wait out the rest of the class and their headstands while in downward dog. 

Which was right about the time my instructor walked over to me and said "alright, Kel.  You're going up today."  Of course I didn't protest and the quick thought flashed through my brain that perhaps she can somehow tell that I probably need this right more now than ever.  She set herself up against the wall to help me, grabbing my "hopping leg" on the count of three, giving me that last bit of a propelling force that I needed to get myself upside down.  And voila.  There I was, upside down, in a headstand - the place I have worked to get for months and months.  I stayed there for a minute or two, working on getting both of my legs off of the wall and balanced until my she helped me ease myself down, one leg at a time, back onto my yoga mat. With a rush I sat upright.  "Thank you!" I exclaimed, laughing in spite of myself.  "That was awesome!"  She smiled back. "You bet.  Looked good."  As we moved our mats back into the center of the room to continue our class, I couldn't help but acknowledge the flurry of excitement in my belly.  I'd done it!  I was one step closer to getting there.

When I got home from yoga, after I'd inhaled a post-class bagel and cup of coffee, I logged in to my work email.  I had emailed my current version of my power points to my boss on Friday, asking for her opinion on a few things and for clarification on a couple of other last minute questions I had for Monday's meeting.  I didn't tell her about the co-worker and the Friday discussion that made me want to tear my hair out, but I don't have to tell you that it was at the forefront of my mind as I logged on to my account.

Along with a round up of possible spam emails, I had two new messages from my boss.  I opened her email about my presentation first, skimming through her thoughts about the questions I had asked.  I nodded, all of her comments making sense to me.  Then, even though I loathe checking email on the weekends, since I was already in the darn inbox, I opened the next email that followed from her, the one with no subject line.

She mentioned a document I'd worked on the week prior, one that had to be submitted to stakeholders within our company before my project and desired plan could move on to the next steps in the business.  She told me she had just received an email from the person who was to review it and give it the "green light" before moving it on to the next phase of development/the next higher up who decides whether or not the company wants to invest in the plan and keep the project moving.  The email contained just two sentences beyond her greeting to me. The first line explained to me that it had been reviewed.  And the second sentence went on to inform me that the feedback she had received was that it was incredibly well-written and should be used as a model going forward.

Well.

I am not so humble as to deny the fact that reading that note made me grin from ear to ear; bursting into an impromptu laugh and happy dance in the middle of my kitchen.

Take that, nerve rattling colleague.  Seems I do know what I'm talking about, after all.      

I don't exactly know why it can be so easy to us to doubt ourselves at times; why we can so quickly give our minds and brain space over to the worse-case scenarios, the dreaded what-if game.  Like most of us, I can be my own harshest critic, demanding the best of myself all the time.  When things are really important to me I do not like to settle for mediocrity or "good enough."  I never have.

But this weekend, Saturday morning in particular, served as a much needed reminder.  To just have a little faith.  I got this.  I do.

My yoga teacher had said: "you're going up today, Kel."  I am.  In some way, shape, or form, I am always moving forward, always reaching, and God-willing, always going up.  This weekend I was reminded that my own head, my own heart better be right there along with me - because shouldn't my biggest supporter be, well, me?