So... since I've moved back to Greenville I've created a delightful ritual of spending about two hours in the afternoon (normally between noon and two p.m.) vegging on the couch watching Felicity. Do you remember that show? If you don't, it's an old WB show where Keri Russel stars as a NYU student searching for love and meaning in life, etc. etc. You know. Basically everyone's experience of being in their twenties... in a nutshell. Well, I've reached season three (probably in record time) and the episode I was watching today centered around Ben and his alcoholic father. Ben went to his first Al-anon meeting (Al-anon is like AA but it's for the relatives of the alcoholic). I got particularly worked up watching this episode. In the episode, it was the second meeting that Ben had been to, and he decided that he would share his story. He started with the usual, "Hello, my name is Ben." And everyone responded with, "Hello, Ben." And then he said "My father's an alcoholic. And I hate him." That's all he said. And for a moment I was like "well, that's lame. Find your words Ben." ...I'm assuming at this point you realize that I thought more about it. I mean I am writing a blog about it for &^$% sake. As I write this blog I am still ironing out the details of what exactly I am feeling.
I have never been to an Al-anon meeting. I decided to deal with my emotions about my mother's death and addiction the old fashioned way; by pushing it to the back of my mind and moving to a big city. Let's be honest. I made the decision to move two and half months after one of the biggest and life altering moments in my life. I dealt with my grief by going inward. I did yoga. I meditated. I tried to pin point my relationship to my mother so that I could apologize for what I needed to apologize for. And also so I could forgive her for things that she never got to apologize for. I can safely say that there is a part of me that still feels like Ben. The way my mother and I left it wasn't exactly good. It was partly because of the addiction and partly because of our pride that we couldn't talk about how we were feeling. And more importantly we couldn't apologize.
When I moved to Chicago I was in a terrible place. I was heart broken in probably all the ways that I could be. I said that I was leaving because I needed to figure myself out. I needed a change of scenery to see what made me tick and see what broke me down and what made me stronger. I think that these things are true. But I also think that I was scared to stay in Greenville. I'm not really sure what I was scared of. Maybe I was scared that I would have a constant reminder of my mother. Maybe I was scared that I would be stuck in a monotonous relationship that I stayed in because of fear even though it no longer served me. I was just scared. And let me tell you something. Fear is either like cement, or the biggest catalyst you will ever experience in your life.
There were moments in Chicago that I actually felt like I as over it. But then one day I would be crying randomly at silly little things like commercials on the television or a glass of orange juice. The reverand at my mother's funeral said that grief is like a spiral. You start at the point in the middle and the spiral gets bigger. There will always be highs and lows, but the more that time goes by the further apart the highs are from the lows. The more that time goes by I realize that this is absolutely true. There are moments when I can thank God for the time I got with my mother and all the amazing things that I learned from her. Then there are the moments that I miss her more than words and realize that I will never see her again. At least not while I'm on this earth. And sometimes that realization is too much for me to handle. Maybe I am having one of those moments right now. Maybe that's why I am writing this post.
I guess the point of this post (and the point of this blog really) is that it doesn't matter if you are running away or if you have control over the situation you are in. It doesn't matter if your heart is shattered or you have never experienced anything that you would label as real heartbreak. At the end of your journey you will be where God intended you to be. Whether I was broken when I left, whether I left because I was on a journey of self discovery or if I was scared, I was supposed to be where I was. Just like I am supposed to be where I am now. There are still things that are hard for me to see. Random everyday things: boiled peanut stands, sweet potatoes, pumpkins, anything related to fall. All these things remind me of my mother. But I am strong enough to see past the bruised heart and cherish them as things that I shared with her. They are things that I will pass on my children as cherished items because they will see how much I love them. And I am sure when I am gone they will have a similar pang in their heart when they see them. That's love, I guess. It's a sharing of things most dear.
I will end saying that I wouldn't change anything. My mother's death brought new light to all of the other relationships in my life. My sister, my aunt, my father. I even talk to cousins and family members that I hadn't before. It's amazing how a time of such devastation can make you realize the things that matter most. I cherish the singing of birds and the smell of a delicious meal. I pay attention when I am hugging a friend. There are times that I don't, but now I realize that it is important to come back to the small things. These things we take for granted are the fruit of our life. They are the things that we will be known for after we take our last breath. For that I am grateful.
Who knew a TV show could bring this out of me. Well done "Felicity". Well done.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
I am here now. I let go.
I went to an amazing yoga class the other day. But it wasn't because of the asanas (Even though they were great too). It was the mantra. The teacher, Liz, led us through a mantra where every inhale you said to yourself silently, internally "I am here now". Then on every exhale you said to yourself silently, internally "I let go". It has stuck with me ever since.
In case you haven't caught on from past posts, I am a bit of a busy body A-type. I am constantly moving from thing to thing. Therefore, naturally, the hardest part about yoga for me is being present; staying in my own space, on my own mat, in my own body and mind. I'm pretty sure after years of doing yoga, I just recently stopped/lessened comparing myself to other yogis. Staying present has been even harder lately because I have gone through a pretty big move. I moved from Chicago, a booming metropolis, to Greenville S.C., which is a bit smaller than a booming metropolis ;). I'll be honest that the first couple of days scared the hell out of me. I couldn't help but think "did I just make a huge mistake? Were all of my friends right?"... Well... they were not.
Liz's class helped me to step back and look at the big picture. It made me think how it is so easy for us to get into these routines of worry. We concentrate on the what if's and the why's instead of just enjoying the moment and not worrying about the outcome. It's easy to do that though. The worrying part I mean. It is almost like our ego thinks that we deserve to know all of the answers. Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. It never does. The best that we can really do is go with our gut and hope that we are happy with the outcome. But the beautiful thing is that if we aren't happy, we can try again tomorrow.
This move to the south was the second guteral reaction move I have made in my life. The first was moving to Chicago. And I wouldn't change that for the world. My little less than two years in Chicago was my "I am here now" lesson of my life thus far. The move was, to say the least, incredibly hard. I had just lost my mother. I moved away from my boyfriend and my family, pretty much leaving everything in my life behind to explore a whole new world. And when I got there I literally had the "well now what?" reaction to my crazy endeavor. I moved without a job and not much of a plan. And whatever plan I had was quickly thrown out the window. I was forced to say "I am here now" and then I listened to my body and my mind to tell me the direction to go. And it did. Although at first I still controlled the reins. What can I say? I'm a pitta! I practiced "mindfulness" (tried to) almost every day for the first year I was there. I dissected my emotions until they were nothing but dust. I over analyzed everything from why I couldn't decide what to wear to why the stranger was looking at me like that on the subway. I had to be so in tune with myself to know what I needed, because I knew that if I wasn't careful I was going to get sucked into a city that I couldn't survive in without mindfulness. And one day it happened. I LET GO. I stopped trying so hard and just let myself be. I realized that I wasn't going to die in this giant city, I was going to thrive. Because that is what I was supposed to do. I took my fear and love of this new adventure and wrapped them together and rode them like a raft through my life. I accepted that there was good and bad in my life, and I let go of this idea of failing. If I missed my mother I wasn't failing. If I missed my sister I wasn't failing. If I messed up in yoga class. I wasn't failing. I was living.
The years spent in Chicago, and now entering into my new life here, are perfect examples of staying present and then letting go and letting the universe take control. All we can do is accept the good and the bad and ride our breath. If only I can keep remembering that. :) Deep inhales. Deep exhales. I am here now. I let go. I am here now. I let go. I am here now. I let go. Namaste.
In case you haven't caught on from past posts, I am a bit of a busy body A-type. I am constantly moving from thing to thing. Therefore, naturally, the hardest part about yoga for me is being present; staying in my own space, on my own mat, in my own body and mind. I'm pretty sure after years of doing yoga, I just recently stopped/lessened comparing myself to other yogis. Staying present has been even harder lately because I have gone through a pretty big move. I moved from Chicago, a booming metropolis, to Greenville S.C., which is a bit smaller than a booming metropolis ;). I'll be honest that the first couple of days scared the hell out of me. I couldn't help but think "did I just make a huge mistake? Were all of my friends right?"... Well... they were not.
Liz's class helped me to step back and look at the big picture. It made me think how it is so easy for us to get into these routines of worry. We concentrate on the what if's and the why's instead of just enjoying the moment and not worrying about the outcome. It's easy to do that though. The worrying part I mean. It is almost like our ego thinks that we deserve to know all of the answers. Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. It never does. The best that we can really do is go with our gut and hope that we are happy with the outcome. But the beautiful thing is that if we aren't happy, we can try again tomorrow.
This move to the south was the second guteral reaction move I have made in my life. The first was moving to Chicago. And I wouldn't change that for the world. My little less than two years in Chicago was my "I am here now" lesson of my life thus far. The move was, to say the least, incredibly hard. I had just lost my mother. I moved away from my boyfriend and my family, pretty much leaving everything in my life behind to explore a whole new world. And when I got there I literally had the "well now what?" reaction to my crazy endeavor. I moved without a job and not much of a plan. And whatever plan I had was quickly thrown out the window. I was forced to say "I am here now" and then I listened to my body and my mind to tell me the direction to go. And it did. Although at first I still controlled the reins. What can I say? I'm a pitta! I practiced "mindfulness" (tried to) almost every day for the first year I was there. I dissected my emotions until they were nothing but dust. I over analyzed everything from why I couldn't decide what to wear to why the stranger was looking at me like that on the subway. I had to be so in tune with myself to know what I needed, because I knew that if I wasn't careful I was going to get sucked into a city that I couldn't survive in without mindfulness. And one day it happened. I LET GO. I stopped trying so hard and just let myself be. I realized that I wasn't going to die in this giant city, I was going to thrive. Because that is what I was supposed to do. I took my fear and love of this new adventure and wrapped them together and rode them like a raft through my life. I accepted that there was good and bad in my life, and I let go of this idea of failing. If I missed my mother I wasn't failing. If I missed my sister I wasn't failing. If I messed up in yoga class. I wasn't failing. I was living.
The years spent in Chicago, and now entering into my new life here, are perfect examples of staying present and then letting go and letting the universe take control. All we can do is accept the good and the bad and ride our breath. If only I can keep remembering that. :) Deep inhales. Deep exhales. I am here now. I let go. I am here now. I let go. I am here now. I let go. Namaste.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Anniversary
The anniversary of my mother's passing is coming up this July. It will have been two years. It still feels like it just happened. Maybe it will feel that way forever. I wanted to share something I wrote a few months after she died. I turned heavily to meditation right after she passed and there was one session in particular that really shook me to the core. It was as if she had hopped into my head and body and showed me exactly what I needed to see at that moment. As soon as I came to, I rushed to a pen and paper and wrote it down. I tweeked it a little afterwards for grammar, etc. :) I thought, in lieu of the anniversary, I would share what I wrote. Enjoy.
I dig my toes into the sand. I sit with her, feeling the grains underneath and all around me. The sound of the waves is slow and soothing. The water is gold with the reflection of the sunset. We sit together. Occasionally our hands find each others. Her hands are soft. She has a soft grin; a content face. She watches the waves slowly come in and out. We see the tide coming nearer and nearer to our sandy toes. I hold my breath every time it almost touches.
“Walk?” she asks.
“Ok.” I say.
We slowly walk along the shore. There is ocean to the left, nothing to the right.
“I’m sorry.” I say. “I’m so sorry.” I look at her. Her face has changed. She is younger. Her long hair is in a braid; her face is softer than I remember. She grabs my hand with more intensity and just smiles at me. She grabs me around the shoulders and takes long strides across the sand. It is hard to keep up; her legs are longer than mine. I feel her hand on the back of my head occasionally (Almost her reminder to me that she is still there).
“Oysters!” she cries. Ahead there are dozens of oysters glistening in the sand. They have an almost silver glitter to them. She grabs one out of the sand, opens it with ease, and slides it into her mouth. She turns to me giggling and hands me one. I delicately take the oyster. Not knowing if I am trying to savor the moment or the oyster, I slowly slide the oyster into my mouth with my eyes closed. It is cool and salty. Perfect. I open my eyes and see her smiling at me. She grabs my hand to keep walking.
I continue to stare out into the ocean. The ripples and waves are gold and blue. The sun is under the water yet there is still so much light. I turn to find her. There are three people there, playing in the sand; the braided woman, an older woman with yellow skin in a nightgown with short hair, and a little girl. They all turn to me and smile very different smiles. The young girl has a smile of innocence and play. The braided woman has a smile of maturity and love. The older woman’s smile almost looks sad; tired. I walk heavy footed through the sand to them and sit. They are drawing in the sand. I can’t take my eyes off the older woman. She barely looks at me. Her hands are fragile and shaky as she draws in the sand. She looks in awe at the other two. I touch her hand. It is dry but still soft.
“They’re so beautiful”, she says without looking at me.
“Yes.” I say.
“The ocean is so beautiful.” She comments as she glances at the ocean. Her eyes are glistening with old tears. She digs her hand all the way into the sand till it is covered. She pulls her hand back out and opens it to reveal a million tiny sparkling pieces of sand. She smiles at her hand and looks at the young child and woman. They move into each other and stand. I watch them walk away briefly, and then run after them.
We walk in silence. She is a mix of all three now, slowly morphing and changing.
Ahead a row boat lightly bounces in the water.
“Look!” She cries as the younger her. Her little body runs to the boat.
I follow her, watching as she pushes the boat into the water and climbs in. I hold my hand out to her in attempts to pull her back in.
“I can’t go with you!” I yell as the boat starts to float away from shore.
“I know”, she says with a knowing smile. That is all that is said.
She sits in the boat, golden from the sun and oceans reflection. She moves further and further away. She leans forward in the boat propping up onto her knees and yells, “I’m happy!” Then she settles back into the boat. She is not looking at me anymore but towards the open ocean. She holds her arms out to the sky and I can’t hear her but I know that she is laughing.
Tears stream down my face as I wave back. I have nothing to say. There is still sand in my hand where she touched it. I still feel her arm around me as I watch her sail into the distance. Then she is gone. I sit down in the sand and watch as the last bits of light fade from the oceans waves. I sit enjoying the warmth from the light the last few moments that I can. The wind dances across my face and I bury my toes into the sand and close my eyes, remembering the last time I was here.
I dig my toes into the sand. I sit with her, feeling the grains underneath and all around me. The sound of the waves is slow and soothing. The water is gold with the reflection of the sunset. We sit together. Occasionally our hands find each others. Her hands are soft. She has a soft grin; a content face. She watches the waves slowly come in and out. We see the tide coming nearer and nearer to our sandy toes. I hold my breath every time it almost touches.
“Walk?” she asks.
“Ok.” I say.
We slowly walk along the shore. There is ocean to the left, nothing to the right.
“I’m sorry.” I say. “I’m so sorry.” I look at her. Her face has changed. She is younger. Her long hair is in a braid; her face is softer than I remember. She grabs my hand with more intensity and just smiles at me. She grabs me around the shoulders and takes long strides across the sand. It is hard to keep up; her legs are longer than mine. I feel her hand on the back of my head occasionally (Almost her reminder to me that she is still there).
“Oysters!” she cries. Ahead there are dozens of oysters glistening in the sand. They have an almost silver glitter to them. She grabs one out of the sand, opens it with ease, and slides it into her mouth. She turns to me giggling and hands me one. I delicately take the oyster. Not knowing if I am trying to savor the moment or the oyster, I slowly slide the oyster into my mouth with my eyes closed. It is cool and salty. Perfect. I open my eyes and see her smiling at me. She grabs my hand to keep walking.
I continue to stare out into the ocean. The ripples and waves are gold and blue. The sun is under the water yet there is still so much light. I turn to find her. There are three people there, playing in the sand; the braided woman, an older woman with yellow skin in a nightgown with short hair, and a little girl. They all turn to me and smile very different smiles. The young girl has a smile of innocence and play. The braided woman has a smile of maturity and love. The older woman’s smile almost looks sad; tired. I walk heavy footed through the sand to them and sit. They are drawing in the sand. I can’t take my eyes off the older woman. She barely looks at me. Her hands are fragile and shaky as she draws in the sand. She looks in awe at the other two. I touch her hand. It is dry but still soft.
“They’re so beautiful”, she says without looking at me.
“Yes.” I say.
“The ocean is so beautiful.” She comments as she glances at the ocean. Her eyes are glistening with old tears. She digs her hand all the way into the sand till it is covered. She pulls her hand back out and opens it to reveal a million tiny sparkling pieces of sand. She smiles at her hand and looks at the young child and woman. They move into each other and stand. I watch them walk away briefly, and then run after them.
We walk in silence. She is a mix of all three now, slowly morphing and changing.
Ahead a row boat lightly bounces in the water.
“Look!” She cries as the younger her. Her little body runs to the boat.
I follow her, watching as she pushes the boat into the water and climbs in. I hold my hand out to her in attempts to pull her back in.
“I can’t go with you!” I yell as the boat starts to float away from shore.
“I know”, she says with a knowing smile. That is all that is said.
She sits in the boat, golden from the sun and oceans reflection. She moves further and further away. She leans forward in the boat propping up onto her knees and yells, “I’m happy!” Then she settles back into the boat. She is not looking at me anymore but towards the open ocean. She holds her arms out to the sky and I can’t hear her but I know that she is laughing.
Tears stream down my face as I wave back. I have nothing to say. There is still sand in my hand where she touched it. I still feel her arm around me as I watch her sail into the distance. Then she is gone. I sit down in the sand and watch as the last bits of light fade from the oceans waves. I sit enjoying the warmth from the light the last few moments that I can. The wind dances across my face and I bury my toes into the sand and close my eyes, remembering the last time I was here.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Wake up to Stress
How do we keep missing the signs? Our bodies are trying to tell us something. Our hearts are trying to tell us that we are in pain. "Trauma is the biggest killer" according to clinical psychology. Personally, I always say that I am fine. I might say that more than anything else.
It's safe to say that we all have a vision for how we want our life to play out. Whether it's a big house or a job at the firm or a smoking hot partner. Maybe it's smaller. Maybe it's internal. Maybe your search is for happiness. Or meaning. Or maybe it's less selfish. Is your life goal to provide a great life for your child? Or maybe you are in mission work. Whatever it is, it is still a goal. And with goals there seems to undeniably be a load of stress. These set backs or blockages in the road aren't always dealt with head on. They are brushed to the side. Do we not think that they are important? Maybe not. Maybe it's just because we don't have time to worry about them right now. We are too busy getting to the next step to even bother taking care of ourselves and our needs in this PRESENT moment. Present moment. I'm always only thinking about the past and the future. I seem to either be dwelling on the past or stressing about the future. My boyfriend shared a quote with me the other day that stopped me in my tracks. "Be aware of the power of the present moment". Yea! Exactly! God, why didn't I think of that before? Why didn't I think about it before I was crying for no apparent reason! I think that there is no apparent reason, but the reality (if I could just force myself to sit down and look at it) is that I have had opportunity after opportunity to fix it. Now comes the question, "what is it?" Well shit... I don't really know anymore. Now it's a multitude of things. A million emotions that have been tucked deep into the pockets of my body. I'm that person that has no idea how stressed I am until it is too late. I'm "6-feet under" so to speak. I get irritable. I get grumpy. I close down.
Why, as humans, do we do this to ourselves? We push ourselves to our breaking points, and then when we get there we say that we are "fine". The worst part is that we really don't even realize it until we are at that cliff, one inch from being pushed over the side into the deep end. It makes me think about how adults always say that kids and teenagers think that they are indestructible. That's why they drive too fast, or drink too much, or play with matches. Well, what about us adults? We might not being be playing with fire in a literal sense, but we sure are in metaphoric sense.
I always tell my students "see what will happen". At that moment that you want to drop out of a pose because your legs are burning, just stay in it. See what happens. When you want to look at your neighbor to see if you're as deep in the pose as they are, don't. Turn your gaze inward, and see what happens. So I have to ask, what would happen if we (yogi or not) stopped to look at our emotions/ our traumas/ our let down expectations in the face right when they happened. Would we be better or worse for it? Why not "see what will happen"?
It's safe to say that we all have a vision for how we want our life to play out. Whether it's a big house or a job at the firm or a smoking hot partner. Maybe it's smaller. Maybe it's internal. Maybe your search is for happiness. Or meaning. Or maybe it's less selfish. Is your life goal to provide a great life for your child? Or maybe you are in mission work. Whatever it is, it is still a goal. And with goals there seems to undeniably be a load of stress. These set backs or blockages in the road aren't always dealt with head on. They are brushed to the side. Do we not think that they are important? Maybe not. Maybe it's just because we don't have time to worry about them right now. We are too busy getting to the next step to even bother taking care of ourselves and our needs in this PRESENT moment. Present moment. I'm always only thinking about the past and the future. I seem to either be dwelling on the past or stressing about the future. My boyfriend shared a quote with me the other day that stopped me in my tracks. "Be aware of the power of the present moment". Yea! Exactly! God, why didn't I think of that before? Why didn't I think about it before I was crying for no apparent reason! I think that there is no apparent reason, but the reality (if I could just force myself to sit down and look at it) is that I have had opportunity after opportunity to fix it. Now comes the question, "what is it?" Well shit... I don't really know anymore. Now it's a multitude of things. A million emotions that have been tucked deep into the pockets of my body. I'm that person that has no idea how stressed I am until it is too late. I'm "6-feet under" so to speak. I get irritable. I get grumpy. I close down.
Why, as humans, do we do this to ourselves? We push ourselves to our breaking points, and then when we get there we say that we are "fine". The worst part is that we really don't even realize it until we are at that cliff, one inch from being pushed over the side into the deep end. It makes me think about how adults always say that kids and teenagers think that they are indestructible. That's why they drive too fast, or drink too much, or play with matches. Well, what about us adults? We might not being be playing with fire in a literal sense, but we sure are in metaphoric sense.
I always tell my students "see what will happen". At that moment that you want to drop out of a pose because your legs are burning, just stay in it. See what happens. When you want to look at your neighbor to see if you're as deep in the pose as they are, don't. Turn your gaze inward, and see what happens. So I have to ask, what would happen if we (yogi or not) stopped to look at our emotions/ our traumas/ our let down expectations in the face right when they happened. Would we be better or worse for it? Why not "see what will happen"?
Monday, March 12, 2012
Isvara-pranidhana
When you hear the word "God" what do you think of? Maybe you are a religious person and your mind immediately goes to the entity that you believe in. Maybe you were brought up in a household where religion was instigated harshly and it left a nasty taste in your mouth. Maybe the word "God" doesn't spark any sort of emotion or memory or feeling. That's okay too.
I have been spending a lot of time recently studying the Yamas and Niyamas of Yoga. Mainly because I am currently in my 200 hour teacher training, but also because I find them fascinating. The last Niyama or observance is Isvara-pranidhana. Isvara-pranidhana is "devotion to a higher power". This particular Niyama can be tricky. Mainly because it scares people away. It's often said that yoga is non-religious and when you hear this "devotion to higher power" stuff, what the heck, right? Sounds pretty religious to me! I, personally, am not a religious person. But I love yoga, and I love this Niyama, so I wanted to share my findings with the research that I have been doing.
Lets start with this idea of "higher power" or "god". Geez. God has always been a really sticky topic for me. I used to be really religious when I was younger. I definitely went through a period where I journal-ed to God and thought that I could reach him/her that way. Looking back on that time I don't think that it was silly, per se. I was just searching for something. I didn't know at that time what I was searching for, of course. At the end of that period (I was about 15 maybe?) my mother went to rehab for the first time. After that it was a downward spiral. "God" left a very nasty taste in my mouth and anger in my heart. I would go to AA meetings with my mother (Only because she asked me to. It wasn't voluntary.) and all these people would stand up and talk about how God saved them. They told these stories of how they fell to rock bottom and God was able to pull them back up out of the ashes. Hearing people talk like this about their God lit a fire in side of me. I thought it was bullshit. I thought why the hell are they (God) choosing to help these people but they won't help my mother? I was angry. My mother was a very religious person and she put a lot of trust in God to guide her in the right direction and out of the darkness that was her drinking. I could never understand how she put so much trust in something that she couldn't even prove was there, not to mention was leaving her to fight it alone. (I realized later that it wasn't God that was leaving her to fight it alone, but her family.)
It wasn't until after she died that I really got it. She surrendered completely to this higher power. Even though it didn't save her life she was content while here. Her beliefs and her courage to believe in something until the end kept her spirit burning bright until her last breath. I am sure that she had doubts in the end and even before. Who doesn't? But she endured in her beliefs and in her love of the "divine". I had a weird moment right after I received the news that she had passed away. I thought, "she is with God, she is okay." Crazy, right? After years of not believing and years of anger at this God that wasn't healing my mother, I was (no argument necessary) relieved that my mother was finally in his/her hands. The shock of that immediate and guttural reaction has stayed with me almost two years later. Since her death I have been searching for this "higher power" and what it means to me and why we are all so damn scared of it.
In my study the real breakthrough came when I let go of the notion of "god" and "heaven" and "hell" and focused more on the spirit. The spirit (or soul) is what is left after everything else is taken away from you. I also view the spirit as an energy. Have you ever had a moment when you lock eyes with a complete stranger and maybe you smile at each other? But even deeper, you connect with them? No words have to be shared. This feeling of connection that you felt with this stranger is (in a nut shell) what I believe in. Isvara-pranidhana is about "lack of separation" that happens when you practice yoga. It is actually the definition of Yoga. "Union". We spend all of our lives feeling separate. Your birth is the moment that you are separated from your mother and you become your own living and breathing organism. This feeling of separation is created by the ego. The ego tries to make it impossible for you to "let go, and let god". However, when you let go and give in to the notion of this "higher power" or "spirit" or "energy" you realize that everything in your life is already out of your control, so why not just ride the waves and enjoy yourself? Someone in class put it beautifully. He said: "When you look in someone's eyes it's not "you" and "me". It's "us". We are connected. We are the same."
It is this connection and this union that I feel with the entire universe that makes the idea of "higher power" so much easier for me. Sometimes I have to make myself rein it in so that I don't completely overwhelm myself. But on the other hand how liberating to know that at the end of the day these little things that we spend so much energy worrying about really don't matter! Yes, having money and a good credit score and a nice apartment make this time on earth a little easier, but does it make you happy? Some might say yes, but I don't think so. No matter how much money I have I know that I am in good hands. And like my mother did, I trust that the universe will guide me where I need to go.
Isavara-pranidhana makes me feel closer to everyone I encounter. It makes me empathetic and makes me pay attention. The way you look at a tree changes when you realize that the energy that makes that tree is the same energy that breaths air into your lungs. Is your mind blown yet? It's cool stuff! Not to mention incredibly powerful!
Thank you for taking the time to read this. Maybe next time you feel the wind breeze over your skin or a strangers gaze meets yours on the train you will think of Isvara-pranidhana and the energy that has already opted to take the reins of your life. You just need to sit back and enjoy the ride. "Surrender to the flow of the universe and recognize that there is energy at work beyond ourselves."
*I spell "God" with a capital G out of respect, that's all. Not meant to make any statements.
*Blog not meant to promote laziness. You still have say in your actions and life even if the path has already been bulldozed for you. If you have questions feel free to comment :)
*This Blog isn't meant to be preachy. I'm not saying that this is the true doctrine or anything like that. It is just what I believe and where my faith lies.
I have been spending a lot of time recently studying the Yamas and Niyamas of Yoga. Mainly because I am currently in my 200 hour teacher training, but also because I find them fascinating. The last Niyama or observance is Isvara-pranidhana. Isvara-pranidhana is "devotion to a higher power". This particular Niyama can be tricky. Mainly because it scares people away. It's often said that yoga is non-religious and when you hear this "devotion to higher power" stuff, what the heck, right? Sounds pretty religious to me! I, personally, am not a religious person. But I love yoga, and I love this Niyama, so I wanted to share my findings with the research that I have been doing.
Lets start with this idea of "higher power" or "god". Geez. God has always been a really sticky topic for me. I used to be really religious when I was younger. I definitely went through a period where I journal-ed to God and thought that I could reach him/her that way. Looking back on that time I don't think that it was silly, per se. I was just searching for something. I didn't know at that time what I was searching for, of course. At the end of that period (I was about 15 maybe?) my mother went to rehab for the first time. After that it was a downward spiral. "God" left a very nasty taste in my mouth and anger in my heart. I would go to AA meetings with my mother (Only because she asked me to. It wasn't voluntary.) and all these people would stand up and talk about how God saved them. They told these stories of how they fell to rock bottom and God was able to pull them back up out of the ashes. Hearing people talk like this about their God lit a fire in side of me. I thought it was bullshit. I thought why the hell are they (God) choosing to help these people but they won't help my mother? I was angry. My mother was a very religious person and she put a lot of trust in God to guide her in the right direction and out of the darkness that was her drinking. I could never understand how she put so much trust in something that she couldn't even prove was there, not to mention was leaving her to fight it alone. (I realized later that it wasn't God that was leaving her to fight it alone, but her family.)
It wasn't until after she died that I really got it. She surrendered completely to this higher power. Even though it didn't save her life she was content while here. Her beliefs and her courage to believe in something until the end kept her spirit burning bright until her last breath. I am sure that she had doubts in the end and even before. Who doesn't? But she endured in her beliefs and in her love of the "divine". I had a weird moment right after I received the news that she had passed away. I thought, "she is with God, she is okay." Crazy, right? After years of not believing and years of anger at this God that wasn't healing my mother, I was (no argument necessary) relieved that my mother was finally in his/her hands. The shock of that immediate and guttural reaction has stayed with me almost two years later. Since her death I have been searching for this "higher power" and what it means to me and why we are all so damn scared of it.
In my study the real breakthrough came when I let go of the notion of "god" and "heaven" and "hell" and focused more on the spirit. The spirit (or soul) is what is left after everything else is taken away from you. I also view the spirit as an energy. Have you ever had a moment when you lock eyes with a complete stranger and maybe you smile at each other? But even deeper, you connect with them? No words have to be shared. This feeling of connection that you felt with this stranger is (in a nut shell) what I believe in. Isvara-pranidhana is about "lack of separation" that happens when you practice yoga. It is actually the definition of Yoga. "Union". We spend all of our lives feeling separate. Your birth is the moment that you are separated from your mother and you become your own living and breathing organism. This feeling of separation is created by the ego. The ego tries to make it impossible for you to "let go, and let god". However, when you let go and give in to the notion of this "higher power" or "spirit" or "energy" you realize that everything in your life is already out of your control, so why not just ride the waves and enjoy yourself? Someone in class put it beautifully. He said: "When you look in someone's eyes it's not "you" and "me". It's "us". We are connected. We are the same."
It is this connection and this union that I feel with the entire universe that makes the idea of "higher power" so much easier for me. Sometimes I have to make myself rein it in so that I don't completely overwhelm myself. But on the other hand how liberating to know that at the end of the day these little things that we spend so much energy worrying about really don't matter! Yes, having money and a good credit score and a nice apartment make this time on earth a little easier, but does it make you happy? Some might say yes, but I don't think so. No matter how much money I have I know that I am in good hands. And like my mother did, I trust that the universe will guide me where I need to go.
Isavara-pranidhana makes me feel closer to everyone I encounter. It makes me empathetic and makes me pay attention. The way you look at a tree changes when you realize that the energy that makes that tree is the same energy that breaths air into your lungs. Is your mind blown yet? It's cool stuff! Not to mention incredibly powerful!
Thank you for taking the time to read this. Maybe next time you feel the wind breeze over your skin or a strangers gaze meets yours on the train you will think of Isvara-pranidhana and the energy that has already opted to take the reins of your life. You just need to sit back and enjoy the ride. "Surrender to the flow of the universe and recognize that there is energy at work beyond ourselves."
*I spell "God" with a capital G out of respect, that's all. Not meant to make any statements.
*Blog not meant to promote laziness. You still have say in your actions and life even if the path has already been bulldozed for you. If you have questions feel free to comment :)
*This Blog isn't meant to be preachy. I'm not saying that this is the true doctrine or anything like that. It is just what I believe and where my faith lies.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Are you a clinger or a floater?
I read recently that ,when it comes to change, there are two types of people. There are people that hold on for dear life to what they know/knew. These people are trying desperately to maintain "control". Then there are people that let go of their old beliefs and just enjoy the ride of life. There are so many people (authors, philosophers, yogis) that relate life to a river. Obviously because it is ever flowing, ever changing, ever moving. We can't stop the river from flowing its natural direction. Even if you dam it, one day the dam will weaken and the river will once again flow freely as it was meant to. There are two images that come to me when thinking of these polar opposite people: you can imagine one person struggling to hold on to the shore. Grasping on to roots, struggling to stay afloat, screaming, kicking, crying. Then there are those that push themselves into the middle of the river, see who else is floating with them, and glide down the river with ease and their head above water.
On a different note, but still linked, I recently participated in a death meditation from the book "Fierce Medicine" by Ana Forest (the creator of forest yoga). The meditation places you in a situation where you have 12 hours left to live. You have to imagine that you will never see a sunrise again, not see your loved ones again, etc. It sounds morbid, but it is meant to help you LIVE more wisely and completely. While you are in contemplation of the last hours of your life there are eight questions that you are to ask yourself. The first question reads like this: "Feel the death of your hopes and dreams. Everything you were getting ready for. As you sit here feeling that Death, and loss, what are your regrets? All the ways you were going to live your life, all the dreams you were waiting to live... What were the promises that you made to yourself or your loved ones that you can no longer keep because your time is over? Perhaps you told yourself you'd start caring for yourself in a kind and sane way someday in the future; well, now you don't have a future. Let yourself fully feel your loss. Write down your regrets." Again, I realize that this seems morbid, but it's not. I am not sitting around thinking about my death all day. So any family members that read this please don't call me crying. It's all good.
Back to the point... when I read about the river and the two types of people, and then thought back to this question from the meditation, I realized that I have been living my life as the person clinging to the shore. I have never liked change. I have normally been one of those people that once I find something I am comfortable with I try to plan my entire life around that thing. Which is ridiculous. It's ridiculous for me to lessen my gaze and it's ridiculous to put that sort of pressure on something or someone. I would get so upset if something didn't go my way; a breakup, not getting a part, something not happening as quickly as I wanted it to, my mother dying. My only regret is that I would look at these changes as set backs, and not as a chance for growth.
I don't think that I am alone in these feelings. There are so many people that find control in their life from stability in other things. But it's inevitable, just like the dam, that those things will weaken and you will be left to float down the river of life without them. One day you might have the perfect job, a spouse that you adore, wonderful kids, a house that is your dream home. But one day your company might downsize, and your perfect job with the perfect salary might get smaller. And then you will have to sell your dream house and get something smaller. And your kids will grow up, and eventually leave you. I am not trying to make it seem like nothing lasts (even if that is what I believe). I simply mean to say that these "goals" that we have are as likely to change as the seasons. There is nothing that we can do to keep the seasons from changing, so how are we to stop the changes in daily life?
In the past two years (after my mother died, and also moving to Chicago) I learned so much about myself. Mainly I learned about my habits towards change. I have learned to grieve in a healthy way. I can thank things for being in my life now, rather than cursing them for making me love them and then leaving me. Even though it is hard sometimes, I am going to try to let go of the way I thought my life would be. I will let go of the shore and float down the river of life. I will see who meets me along the way and enjoy their company. I will let the water wash me clean. When I used to go canoeing with my mother she always said: "If you fall in the water, don't try to stand and fight it. Keep your feet up and your gaze towards the sky. I'll catch up with you."
On a different note, but still linked, I recently participated in a death meditation from the book "Fierce Medicine" by Ana Forest (the creator of forest yoga). The meditation places you in a situation where you have 12 hours left to live. You have to imagine that you will never see a sunrise again, not see your loved ones again, etc. It sounds morbid, but it is meant to help you LIVE more wisely and completely. While you are in contemplation of the last hours of your life there are eight questions that you are to ask yourself. The first question reads like this: "Feel the death of your hopes and dreams. Everything you were getting ready for. As you sit here feeling that Death, and loss, what are your regrets? All the ways you were going to live your life, all the dreams you were waiting to live... What were the promises that you made to yourself or your loved ones that you can no longer keep because your time is over? Perhaps you told yourself you'd start caring for yourself in a kind and sane way someday in the future; well, now you don't have a future. Let yourself fully feel your loss. Write down your regrets." Again, I realize that this seems morbid, but it's not. I am not sitting around thinking about my death all day. So any family members that read this please don't call me crying. It's all good.
Back to the point... when I read about the river and the two types of people, and then thought back to this question from the meditation, I realized that I have been living my life as the person clinging to the shore. I have never liked change. I have normally been one of those people that once I find something I am comfortable with I try to plan my entire life around that thing. Which is ridiculous. It's ridiculous for me to lessen my gaze and it's ridiculous to put that sort of pressure on something or someone. I would get so upset if something didn't go my way; a breakup, not getting a part, something not happening as quickly as I wanted it to, my mother dying. My only regret is that I would look at these changes as set backs, and not as a chance for growth.
I don't think that I am alone in these feelings. There are so many people that find control in their life from stability in other things. But it's inevitable, just like the dam, that those things will weaken and you will be left to float down the river of life without them. One day you might have the perfect job, a spouse that you adore, wonderful kids, a house that is your dream home. But one day your company might downsize, and your perfect job with the perfect salary might get smaller. And then you will have to sell your dream house and get something smaller. And your kids will grow up, and eventually leave you. I am not trying to make it seem like nothing lasts (even if that is what I believe). I simply mean to say that these "goals" that we have are as likely to change as the seasons. There is nothing that we can do to keep the seasons from changing, so how are we to stop the changes in daily life?
In the past two years (after my mother died, and also moving to Chicago) I learned so much about myself. Mainly I learned about my habits towards change. I have learned to grieve in a healthy way. I can thank things for being in my life now, rather than cursing them for making me love them and then leaving me. Even though it is hard sometimes, I am going to try to let go of the way I thought my life would be. I will let go of the shore and float down the river of life. I will see who meets me along the way and enjoy their company. I will let the water wash me clean. When I used to go canoeing with my mother she always said: "If you fall in the water, don't try to stand and fight it. Keep your feet up and your gaze towards the sky. I'll catch up with you."
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
The search for perfection
I don't know if it's a personality thing, or a human-being thing, but we think we have to set up a perfect space to meditate. We have to set up a perfect space to do yoga. We have been trained to relax only under certain conditions or in certain moods.
I have found that meditating is especially profound in situations or moods that are not perfect. If I am in a bad mood it may be harder for me to get to that place of stillness, but it also means that there is something that I really needed to let go of. I also feel that I need someone to guide me through meditation. It makes it a little easier.
Yet, today I simply sat with my thoughts. I reached a beautiful place where I could truly let go. I went in with constrictions and a migraine even, and now my migraine is gone. I feel peaceful and content. It makes me ask myself, why don't I do this more? I have a habit of being very hard on myself. I wonder and challenge myself by asking why I haven't gotten exactly where I want to be. Why do I not want to do yoga somedays? When will I stop missing my mom? So many questions.
The bottom line is that I may never have answers to those questions. I may always miss my mother, and sometimes not have as much energy as other days, and that's okay. If I keep coming back to my mat (or chair, or sidewalk, or wherever I am!) and back to my breath and back to the stillness that resides in me I will find that peace that I am looking for.
I read a beautiful quote today that really touched on some of the ideas here. It is by Pema Chondron
I have found that meditating is especially profound in situations or moods that are not perfect. If I am in a bad mood it may be harder for me to get to that place of stillness, but it also means that there is something that I really needed to let go of. I also feel that I need someone to guide me through meditation. It makes it a little easier.
Yet, today I simply sat with my thoughts. I reached a beautiful place where I could truly let go. I went in with constrictions and a migraine even, and now my migraine is gone. I feel peaceful and content. It makes me ask myself, why don't I do this more? I have a habit of being very hard on myself. I wonder and challenge myself by asking why I haven't gotten exactly where I want to be. Why do I not want to do yoga somedays? When will I stop missing my mom? So many questions.
The bottom line is that I may never have answers to those questions. I may always miss my mother, and sometimes not have as much energy as other days, and that's okay. If I keep coming back to my mat (or chair, or sidewalk, or wherever I am!) and back to my breath and back to the stillness that resides in me I will find that peace that I am looking for.
I read a beautiful quote today that really touched on some of the ideas here. It is by Pema Chondron
Monday, January 16, 2012
SELF-love
Where is the line between Narcissism and self-love? We are taught not to be selfish and centered towards yourself, but to shower acts of kindness to all those and everything around you. It is even in the Bible: Leviticus 19:18 "thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself".
But what happens when you forget about yourself? Everyone says "you have to love yourself before you can love someone else". (At least it's a commonly said statement that when heard most people agree with) Yet, when faced with themselves, they decide not to give too much love because we have been trained over time that those sorts of actions are selfish.
Even in yoga class we are told to "breath to your neighbor" or "share your energy with the room". I am in no way saying that this is a bad thing. As a teacher I often encourage this. I simply think that self-love is often forgotten about. We constantly try to give to others (whatever that may be): love to our children, filled expectations to our bosses, money to the bank, etc. We have seemed to forget how to give to ourselves. So, maybe what I'm really talking about here is BALANCE. It is well and good to give to your neighbor, and to pay bills on time. But it's also well and good to take yourself out to lunch, or take a bubble bath, or get yourself out of a situation that doesn't feed to "self-love".
Maybe the saying should read... "love thyself as thy neighbor".
But what happens when you forget about yourself? Everyone says "you have to love yourself before you can love someone else". (At least it's a commonly said statement that when heard most people agree with) Yet, when faced with themselves, they decide not to give too much love because we have been trained over time that those sorts of actions are selfish.
Even in yoga class we are told to "breath to your neighbor" or "share your energy with the room". I am in no way saying that this is a bad thing. As a teacher I often encourage this. I simply think that self-love is often forgotten about. We constantly try to give to others (whatever that may be): love to our children, filled expectations to our bosses, money to the bank, etc. We have seemed to forget how to give to ourselves. So, maybe what I'm really talking about here is BALANCE. It is well and good to give to your neighbor, and to pay bills on time. But it's also well and good to take yourself out to lunch, or take a bubble bath, or get yourself out of a situation that doesn't feed to "self-love".
Maybe the saying should read... "love thyself as thy neighbor".
Monday, January 9, 2012
Staying awake in chaos
I don't know about you, but I am one of those people that finds it nearly impossible to say "no". I go, go, go until I drop and then later wonder why I got so burnt out. I got my fathers A-type work ethic which basically means if I am not working on something I get bored and feel lazy. : / To some this is not be seen as a flaw, but to someone that actually possesses this personality trait it can be exhausting!! But more so than exhaustion, this sort of behavior can cause you to MISS so much. Yoga and meditation teaches us "presence". We try to train ourselves to control our mind to stay in the present moment, however as soon as we step off our yoga mat we go right back to the way of life that we have always been living; schedules, appointments, bills, kids soccer practice, trying to find five minutes for a little "me" time, trying to find time to spend with your friends, and with your kids, and with your husband. There is so much that we try to do and achieve every single day that of course it's impossible to stay present. We blast past our days and can barely remember what we had for lunch let alone any important nuances that might have moved you.
Life is in constant change. It is in constant eb and flow. Like a river it keeps moving and you have to flow with it. For some this change can be hard to deal with. Once we get used to one thing we have to deal with being pushed to the next and then the next and then the next. Even if the change is positive it can still be really hard to manage. I know in my life I just recently got used to all the change that has already occurred in my life this year: moving to a new big city, new relationships, letting go of old ones, etc. I found a sense of peace the morning I woke up and realized that I was truly happy in my new life. I didn't have to look at my GPS anymore, I didn't have to look at my phone hoping for a call that wouldn't come. I had "moved on" in a sense. But life keeps moving, and more things got added to my plate: I got my yoga teaching certification. I lined up auditions, I got asked to take on more responsibility with my theatre company, new relationships (some didn't work out), etc. Now... although this is all very very positive and I am thrilled with everything that was put on my plate, it is still stressful. Stress isn't only caused by negative stimuli.
I found myself in bad moods most of the time. I was snappy. I know that I was hard to be around. It wasn't until I had a break down and started crying to my friend one night that I "didn't know what was wrong with me" that she made it real simple. She listed out everything that had been going on in my life in the last weeks and of course I was going crazy! I was exhausted, and I had no time for myself! Even the time I was with my friends I was totally stressed because I was just thinking about what I needed to do when I got home or the next day. It was then that I realized that even in yoga classes I wasn't being mindful of myself and where I was emotionally. I was blasting through the class, thinking about other things the entire time. I promised myself in that moment to take a step back and STAY AWAKE.
I am currently reading "Broken Open" by Elizabeth Lesser. I love this book. Even in the introduction I was pulled in. At the very beginning of the book there was a wonderful quote:
We forget that life is about the experience and not necessarily how much you can get done in a day. Give yourself room to breath, room to stretch, and room to live. And remember to stay awake.
Life is in constant change. It is in constant eb and flow. Like a river it keeps moving and you have to flow with it. For some this change can be hard to deal with. Once we get used to one thing we have to deal with being pushed to the next and then the next and then the next. Even if the change is positive it can still be really hard to manage. I know in my life I just recently got used to all the change that has already occurred in my life this year: moving to a new big city, new relationships, letting go of old ones, etc. I found a sense of peace the morning I woke up and realized that I was truly happy in my new life. I didn't have to look at my GPS anymore, I didn't have to look at my phone hoping for a call that wouldn't come. I had "moved on" in a sense. But life keeps moving, and more things got added to my plate: I got my yoga teaching certification. I lined up auditions, I got asked to take on more responsibility with my theatre company, new relationships (some didn't work out), etc. Now... although this is all very very positive and I am thrilled with everything that was put on my plate, it is still stressful. Stress isn't only caused by negative stimuli.
I found myself in bad moods most of the time. I was snappy. I know that I was hard to be around. It wasn't until I had a break down and started crying to my friend one night that I "didn't know what was wrong with me" that she made it real simple. She listed out everything that had been going on in my life in the last weeks and of course I was going crazy! I was exhausted, and I had no time for myself! Even the time I was with my friends I was totally stressed because I was just thinking about what I needed to do when I got home or the next day. It was then that I realized that even in yoga classes I wasn't being mindful of myself and where I was emotionally. I was blasting through the class, thinking about other things the entire time. I promised myself in that moment to take a step back and STAY AWAKE.
I am currently reading "Broken Open" by Elizabeth Lesser. I love this book. Even in the introduction I was pulled in. At the very beginning of the book there was a wonderful quote:
"If we can stay awake while our lives are changing, secrets will be revealed to us- secrets about ourselves, about the nature of life, and about the eternal source of happiness and peace that is always available, always renewable, already within us."I came back to this quote last week and mediated on it. I realized that what I was doing wrong wasn't that I was busy. It was that I wasn't being mindful of myself and everything around me. I was a bulldozer, blazing through life trying to catch up. But that's all I was doing: I was catching up... not living. I took a step back, reevaluated, and got hold of my life. I processed what was really bothering me (where the stress was coming from). Once I did that I could get control again and work through it. I am still running on a schedule but I know my destination now and not just running rampant on fumes.
We forget that life is about the experience and not necessarily how much you can get done in a day. Give yourself room to breath, room to stretch, and room to live. And remember to stay awake.
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