Tonight, I started my 8-week yoga class. As I sat on my mat in the gently lit, quiet room, slow inhale followed by slow exhale, I teared up. Sitting. Tears. Lying down. Tears. Raising my outstretched left leg. Tears. Flexing my foot. Tears. Breathing in. Tears. Breathing out. Tears. Through the whole class, I cried. I stretched, I moved, I breathed, I cried, and I just let my gentle little grasshopper-self be. In the midst of insurance headaches, treatment plan decisions, and reams of paperwork, I forget just how new this Multiple Sclerosis is. I have only known for sure since mid-November. Gentle little grasshopper.

My energy has been galvanized and geared towards putting together the treatment plan. I have been organized, pro-active, and positive.

Tonight, though, I had space to really just absorb the shock of this news. Just the fundamental reality of "Oohhhh" [I have Multiple Sclerosis].

Out of habit, I had been holding my breath. I have been bracing myself for the daily injections (which I haven't started yet). I have been downplaying any sadness. I don't want to be perceived as "too needy" or "too much" or "making a big deal out of nothing".

Of course, it's all true, all at the same time: I am organized, pro-active, and positive. I am also shocked. I am also so sad. Gentle, little tender grasshopper.