Looking for signs

I was having one of those moments of deep grief for the queen mum, swirling in sadness. I tried writing about it and found myself thinking about trust and how I don’t seem to have much trust lately especially in other people. So when I went to the yoga studio and saw the poster about a grief workshop and in the explanation of the class, trust was mentioned I thought it was a sign, maybe this is what I need. The shiny poster said you had to call and reserve a spot for the class as the size was limited and you had to be willing to commit to coming every week for three hours, I could do that. I called and talked to one of the two women who taught the class and she asked me lots of question and told me I would have to be interviewed by the woman in charge of the class. I waited for the call that finally came at the end of the week. Her message was long explaining how I couldn’t be accepted into the group until I talked to her but she was about to go out-of-town and wouldn’t be back until the day before the class started so I better get in touch as soon as possible. It reminded me of those business that call you on Friday right before they are about to close to tell you to call them back immediately and you do and they are closed until Monday. I was able to call back immediately and got the woman who was in charge of the class. She explained how the class worked using mindfulness techniques and journaling and art to help “the process.” I realized these were the same things I was already practicing and then she asked me if I was able to listen to other people talk about their grief, I wasn’t sure. As she continued interviewing me I realized I was starting to resent that I had to pass some kind of test in order to take this class, like I had to be the right kind of sad to get help. I also noticed I did not feel any empathy coming from the person who was in charge of the class. The trust issue was waving a red flag in my head. At the end of the conversation the woman indicated if there were enough people to take the class I would be invited to join but they couldn’t let me know until  the day before the class and we said good-bye. I slept on our conversation and decided not to take the class, I just couldn’t get past the idea I had to do a “song and dance”  in order to be part of the workshop. Childish of me, bad attitude, perhaps it wouldn’t be the first time. And yet there is part of me that thinks I found my “sign” and it is that I’m doing what I need to do for me, for now.