Ch-Ch-Ch-Choices

In a rather challenging yoga class on Saturday, my instructor told us to do one last asana of our choice. "Put your legs up the wall, do a bridge or a wheel, do a final headstand," she offered. "There is no good choice or bad choice, it's just a choice."

I love that she said that.

From my last posting, you can see that I have a choice to make, and I have been worried about making a good choice. Returning to my present ortho is a choice, but one that makes my stomach turn. Going to the doctor who thinks expensive surgery is my best bet is also a choice, as is seeing doctor #2. Visiting more doctors for more opinions is also a choice. Any of them could be right, and any of them could be wrong.

The great irony here is that I've been getting lots of compliments lately about how good my teeth look, just as I've lost my faith in orthodontia. I feel like I did in 1993, when, after being sick with the Bejing flu, which caused me to lose 30 pounds in six weeks, I was told how fabulous I looked. It brings up that age old "do the ends justify the means" question.

The only real answer is that something has to change. And only a choice can bring that change into action. It's very Yoda, isn't it? Do, or do not. There is no try.

Ah, the force.