The Leap

Ok Folks here's the truth.

I'm moving this here blog over to my website.  I'm not totally satisfied with everything over there just yet, but this is silly to blog here and work there.

So, come and find me... ok?

www.sarahfischer.net/category/blog


See you soon!

Get Moving

That, is my grandmother.  Gigi.  In her late 80s leading a conga line at my wedding almost 8 years ago. She will probably do the same at my cousins wedding next month --  she's 94 now and religiously goes to her Zumba class at the Y each week.

Every memory and thought I have of Gigi has her in motion.  Walking, Dancing, Dancing, Dancing, doing her "exercises" when I was small and would come to visit, yoga lessons, swimming.  That's Gige. A mover and shaker and never happier than when she has good music and a great dance partner.

As I said, she is 94 and still lives alone (with loving assistance from my mother a few streets over), and is pretty darn with it mentally.  I'm sure I forget at least as many things as she does and I don't have age as an excuse (just two small children and lack of sleep)

I was thinking of her recently while on my break from practice.   I took 4 weeks off after baby boy came along, following midwife's instructions.  And what happened?  I turned wickedly sour.  I got grumpy and tight and annoyed.  Not moving my body meant that my heart and emotions didn't have space for movement either.  Everything got stuck and I went sad.  Of course, hormones were there too.

But, whenever in my life I have stopped moving -- my mood and my heart soon twisted into a downward spiral of depression.  It's why when I was working 50+ hours a week I was also running 20 miles and practicing yoga nearly daily.  It's why when I took off from dancing each summer as a child I got really really irritated all the time.

The body likes to move.  The body has to move! I'd say.  It takes all the crummy stuff going on in the  brain, mixes it around, and turns up solutions.  Like MAGIC.  Suddenly mysteries become clear and problems have answers.  Suddenly hurt feelings disappear.  Chemicals make changes that relax and re-wire us to just feel better.  And we are happier.

These days it isn't easy to find the time.  We have to prioritize exercise, sneak it in in stolen moments just taking the stairs instead of an elevator or walking to the store rather than driving.  Exercise sounds so daunting as a word now, doesn't it?  Like a required chore rather than the joy it really can be.  (that's why I like to say move better) When I move I am joyful -- even if I only get in 5 minutes between feeding and caring for myself and my children  - I am joyful, and it is worth it.

So I move to be healthy.  I move to be happy. I move to not worry so much all the time.  I move to be in my life without a foggy cloud in the way.  Hoping that todays yoga or dance or walk or pilates or whatever I do will lead to longevity, levity and peace.  It has worked so far, so I'll keep finding the time for it.

Looking vs. Being "The Part"

I am coming to the end of this nice long maternity leave and will be returning to teaching in about 2 weeks.  I'm feeling ready.  I miss the students and being in the studio.  I miss the sense of deeply engaging with yoga practice on my own mat and bringing my insights (however random) to the people in the room with me.  It will be lovely to return.

But

I still have this baby body.  I seriously still look pregnant.  The baby-house is abundantly visible.

The other day in my kitchen I found myself lamenting my appearance.  And worrying about teaching again looking how I look.  "I just don't look the part, I want to look the part" I said to myself.

Luckily,  my mind is getting better and better trained to pick up on unimportant sh*t like that that I just love to feed myself.

Look the Part?
That would suggest that there is a way to "look" to be a yoga teacher.  (hello marketing!)  and that would also suggest that such a "look" is more important than what I actually have to offer.  (hello worthiness!)

I catch myself again and again being swept up in this way.  "I have to look a certain way - I can never be skinny enough" "I have to have a certain amount of education" "I have to be able to do a certain pose" -- then I'll be worth it, beautiful, a good teacher... etc.  But that's all just crap that I keep taking in from who knows where (facebook maybe?) and feeding myself.  And it's all just surface.

In reality, I want to BE the part.  I want to BE an inspiring yoga teacher. I want to BE honest about how my body is in reality at this moment. I want to BE a person who honors the needs of my body when I'm not sleeping through the night, and I carry a 15lb person with me everywhere I go.  I want to keep my connection to Source no matter what I'm doing. I want to honor my children, and every person I come into contact with and really see them.  I want to BE practicing on the mat, eating well, and savoring my life.  I want to BE a woman who lives her yoga honestly and with no apologies, no matter what it looks like.

So that's where I am now.  Stepping back onto the mat every day and meeting myself where I am.  Getting ready to BE back in the studio.  Stepping back into seat of teacher with honesty, humility, and Grace.  Let's see where this will go.

Dispatch from La-La Land #3

with babe #1 in 2008

On Mothers

Sunday was Mother's Day.  My first with two little ones instead of one.  It is a strange world to be entering into.  A world of extremely divided attention where I can't seem to make the car go where I want it to go - wrong turns abounding- and forming complete coherent sentences requires way more brainpower than I seem to possess.  But that will all shift back.

It is also a world of finding an even deeper appreciation and compassion for my own mother.  She had 4 of us! Holy Moly! Talk about divided attention spans.

But here is what I want to say about mothers.  The more and more I talk to many different people - women and men - it becomes abundantly clear to me that this mother/child relationship is absolutely primary.  Now, as I hold my son and literally keep him alive and growing by attaching him to my body that is quite obvious.  Later, it does not seem so.  But I can tell you, it still is.  The women I talk to and hang with all want to discuss their mothers.  And even men too.  Good or bad Mother relationship is the Mother of all relationships.

(it is so daunting to think and write this as I start the journey of mothering two little souls)

But I want to say also is that it isn't static and it can change.  I even believe it can change if you are estranged from your mama or she isn't living anymore.  It can change.

Many of us want it to come from Mom down to child.  But I think as awake-aware-adult-children we have the opportunity to take it UP to mom.

I think it is incredibly important to ourselves, our families, and our communities that we heal the mother/child relationship...  but to heal it as the adult-child/mother relationship.  Look who leads the way... the child (50+ years old doesn't matter).  It has always meant to be this way... baby cries mom responds, the child leads the mother follows.
So many of us are afraid to be who we really are with our own mothers.  And for so many mothers that's all they want to see or be invited into.  And so many of us are afraid to tell our mothers the truth about state of our adult-child/mother relationships or about some other part of our lives.  I think mothers can be more resilient than we think. Time may be required for it to sink in, but amazing healing does happen with persistent effort.
I think healing can actually happen.  One tiny step, phone call, conversation, admittance... whatever at a time.
That's it.  Mothers are incredibly important, heal with yours if you can.

Dispatch from La La Land #1

My son, Eli, was born two and a half weeks ago on March 17th. And if you are still reading this blog I totally commend you seeing as how I pretty much drop off the planet when big things are happening in my life.

He was born here at home with the help of an amazing midwife and since then I've been living in a sort-of dream-state.  I am truly reluctant to leave my space or do much of anything other than gaze at this little being who has decided to join me.  I may never practice or teach yoga again.  (ok, that's not true, but this is more than sufficient for now)

One thing I've learned by being here is how to keep hold of the sacredness.  Birth is a monumental occasion, rare in my life and this was the last we assume.  And so, Birth is magical and sacred. To have had him here in my home nest means that a sacredness descended on my home and I'm doing my best to keep it around.

What's helping is:
-Limiting visitors and phone calls
-Limiting noise and distractions of any kind.  When you want to keep sacredness the internet and television shows are your worst enemy
-Connecting to nature (out the window for me, but sometimes on the deck)
-Leaving things as they are - not clearing away the birth supplies, candles, affirmations but letting them stay out as reminders of the magic that happened here
-Staying quiet myself and not taking on anything more than the care of this infant, care for my own healing body, and nurture of my child and husband
-Resting and following my intuition
-Journalling on my reflections and moment to moment experiences and feelings
-Reminding myself of the importance of this time, that it is fleeting and will never return in this way with this being, and breathing it in
-Surrendering

So now I'll go crawl back into the quiet nest of my bedroom, contemplate life in her grand and beautiful dance, and rest my bones before I venture out into the world this afternoon.

How do you keep the sacred?

My Top 5 Prenatal Yoga Poses

Coming into the home stretch of this second pregnancy my practice has really dwindled down to just a few essential poses to keep myself feeling both strong and open.  Ready and rested for delivery.  

Here's a listing of my Top 5 poses for pregnancy:

"Pointer" - I like to start my warm-up with some cat/cow and then move into this great strengthener.  Since I've been off of abdominal exercises for some time, this pose helps keep a little bit of wrapping of my muscles around the baby and helps maintain some mid and low-back strength.  You can always add the opposite arm extending forward to build in more strength.

Warrior 2 -  I love (hate) love this one for pregnancy because it is such a powerful pose.  I write (hate) because at the end of this 3rd trimester I am seriously challenged to stay here for any length of time with my knee properly aligned over my ankle.  But the plus side is I feel my feet strongly grounding into the Earth and power rising up into my body.  I feel STRONG in this pose.   And, it gives me an excellent opportunity to focus on breathing through challenge - a skill I will be using in labor, birth, and the next 18 or so years!

 Prasarita Padottanasana - This pose saves my hips and low back.  When I stand with feet wide and then STRONGLY isometrically (without moving) pull them towards each other I can feel my muscles engage all the way up my legs and wrap around my back.  Suddenly I feel spacious and released in my tired aching back.  I can also allow the weight of my baby to hang forward towards the floor and if he's been hanging out low in my pelvis then he moves up just a little and gives my bladder a break.  Sometimes I fold all the way over.  Sometimes I waggle my hips a little bit in a primal pregnant kind of way... all in preparation for going deep into the labor zone.

Malasana (Squat) - This one's for the delivery.  Otherwise I'd never ever have it on a list of favorite poses to be honest.  Squatting is one of the tried and true most excellent positions for giving birth and, it's hard work.  So during my yoga practice I like to take a dynamic approach to it.  I start standing and squat way down then rise back up to standing, repeatedly, for as long as I can possibly manage it.  You may notice that my heels are on the roll of my mat, that gives me a sense of grounding and keeps me safer.  The motion of this dynamic squat also helps to bring the baby down deeper into the pelvis so if at 34 -36 weeks and after baby was breech I wouldn't be doing this.  And if he felt too big and I were exhausted I'd just do dance Plies instead.
The other thing I really value about Squatting is that it's not a lunge.  Lunging in pregnancy as the hormones really get going (so later and later in pregnancy) can put some strain on the pubic symphysis (which is the place in the front of your pelvis where your pubic bones meet).  It isn't comfortable.  And if you do it enough ligaments can be stretched so much that they never go back in place.  So squats keep the PS centered and from being pulled in two different directions simultaneously.

Then after squats when I'm totally exhausted.  I sit, close my eyes, hold my belly and do my Kegels.  No reason to wait until after the delivery - I'm going to need all the strength I can get down there!

and Finally


Supta Bada Konasana - Reclining Bound Angle pose.  Ah!  I lived in this pose for the first trimester of this pregnancy when I was too sick to do much else.  And I'm living in this pose now when I'm too tired to do much else.  There's all this advice not to go on your back while you're pregnant.  I find that I can be on my back briefly but not for long.  So you'll notice in the photo that I'm on a bolster with blocks underneath which creates a nice incline for my resting position.  I sometimes also put blocks under my knees to support my hips.  But this is one of my favorite ways to feel open in my hips and chest but also supported for a nice long rest.  I'll often use a recorded guided relaxation as I rest in this position.

This is not the complete practice I do every day.  Sometimes, and for much of the pregnancy I do a lot more.  Sometimes I do a lot less.  But these are the top 5 to keep me feeling strong, prepared, and open ... just getting ready for this baby to arrive.

photos by Stacy Abbott

When it's going well

Twice in the last two months I've read books that encourage making a list of the structures in place in life when things are going really really well.  Brene Brown notes that she did it as she and her husband looked at how family life goes, and then Sara Avant Stover recommends crafting an "absolute Yes list" for all areas of life.  Essentially the idea is to figure out what makes things flow and work best for you.  Then as times get more stressful, you make sure to move more and more towards the items on your list to help you (or your family system) stay grounded and healthy.

Since I'm moving into the wild-lands of having a baby at home again, I thought I'd do a Best Possible Scenario list for my teaching.

Here's what I find makes my teaching really hum along almost effortlessly:

My home practice is consistent and strong.  I allow myself plenty of exploration and add in restorative days but I'm practicing 5 - 6 days a week for an hour or more.  And I add in some Yogaglo classes with advanced teachers, and at levels that challenge me.

I'm going to class.  I'm learning from other teachers, students, and my physical experience. It helps me break up ruts in my teaching and practice routines.  Plus I feel I"m a part of a community.

I'm reading or listening to something that piques my interest.  It could be poetry or philosophy but my mind and heart are deeply engaged in working something out that I can then bring to my students.

I have plenty of time after practice to sit, contemplate, journal, and digest my experiences.

I have a vision of where I want to take the students physically, emotionally, or spiritually

I give myself plenty of time to plan classes including both sequence and thematics

I write out my speech in the beginning.  This could include several drafts, but when I really nail it, I can feel it and I see the difference in my students. And it keeps me from talking too long and taking up a ton of time at the beginning of class.

I arrive early and set up the room by chanting then playing music and am available to the students

I'm feeding my soul consistently: time in nature, dancing, art-making, crafts, journalling, time with friends.

I'm in conversation with other yoga teachers.  This keeps me out of my own little world, out of my own ego and in a feeling of community which I'm always craving in my life.

My teaching schedule is manageable.  I'm not overdoing it.  That is, I'm only taking on classes that I enjoy and that I feel I have enough time to really pour my heart into.  Which means right now I only teach a few classes while I mother one (and soon two) young children.  As they grow up and more space opens in my life, I'd love to add more classes, workshops, and private lessons.

It's seriously a dream world when all of these things converge and are happening, especially for more than a string of days.  But writing this all out helps me start to see how I can craft my days to give myself more of what I need, to then be able to offer from my heart to the students in class.

I recommend giving this a try for yourself.  What is happening in your world that makes your teaching come alive?  And if you're not a teacher, what helps you keep your heart and inspiration moving in your career?

Synchronicity

Moments.  Really random and unexplainable moments sometimes happen when a random cluster of ideas and thoughts and recommendations all come together to a single point.

I had tea this morning with some yoga ladies to start to discuss some reading we've been doing.  I was second to arrive and the first person there is a woman I"m just beginning to get to know.  She stood and said "I just feel like I want to give you a hug, is that ok?"  and it was fine.

Then our connection rolled forward.  Both in a pink top of almost the same shade.  Both wearing our hamsa earrings.  Then she started talking about a woman who wants to come to town to teach the 5 Rhythms by Gabrielle Roth - and wouldn't you know it, not 20 minutes earlier I'd come across the recommendation for a book by Gabrielle Roth called: Sweat your Prayers and was even just contemplating how I could start to incorporate a 5 rhythms practice into my life.  By the time the conversation was winding down we were planning a road trip to sample 5 rhythms together.

I often forget to ask for moments of synchronicity.  And then sometimes I DO ask but then I forget to look for them and see them.  This one seemed particularly blaring this morning, and I'm grateful.  I feel like she gave me such inspiration and pointing into the direction I want to move at least some of my movement practices (free-spirited, uninhibited DANCE yo!)

And then I offered to her a gem of a gift as well.  Just the perfect phrase to use as she enters into the difficult situation of having a business relationship that began as a friendship.

I think the hug was warranted today.

I'm so grateful for these synchronized moments when just the right thought or suggestion materializes without even asking for it.  So, I thought I'd share and see... are you experiencing any synchronicities in your life these days?

Ending and Beginning

The end of the year brought with it a new arrangement of the lives in intimate connection to ours.  A baby.  A brand new baby was born (not to me) to my brother.  A sweet and beautiful baby girl to remind us of the wonder and awe of the miracle that is this life.  A reminder of the infinite possibilities spread before us.

My 2-week-old niece being held by her Granddaddy

And on the last night of the year a slipping away of Max's Granny as she 'checked-out' (as she put it in a note to her beloveds).  To remind us that life is indeed beautiful, hopefully long, and filled with moments of choice.

Granny and Max's mom at our wedding

I share this idea of moments of choice as I write of Granny because that is exactly how she lived her life. She chose to LIVE when many of the strongest of us might have crumbled.  My husband's family is a private family and I'll respect that as I write.  But I will share that during our last visit with Granny a few weeks ago we asked her about her time during the war and she described "awful, terrible times" which made me blush for thinking I had it so terrible when I was a young mother.  This after watching her father be murdered when she was 17.  But what was so remarkable was that she did not let any of this kill her spirit.  All of the tragic and trying events of her early adult years did nothing to dampen her sense of purpose in living her life.  

It was a choice she made.  A conscious choice to turn to Life rather than tragedy.  To make the most of it and to make the world better by being in it.  

This year I will  begin again as a mother.  This year will begin again with my practice in many ways.  This year I will begin again in building a family and a career melding in whatever the arrival of this new spirit will bring into our lives.

This year, may I choose, as Granny did, to turn towards Life, towards making each moment meaningful, towards making the world a better place.

I'll leave you with Granny's mantra: 

 "Life is real! Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its goal;

Dust thou are, to dust thou return

Was not spoken of the soul." 

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Connecting

I could literally see the hugeness of my daughter's tonsils tonight as she raged against the inevitable putting on of pajamas and going to bed.  She has this way of screaming that isn't a high-pitched shriek but nevertheless hits a tone that precisely rattles the eardrums of anyone within a five-mile radius, I'd guess.  It's enough to make dogs roll over and run away, tail between their legs.

Parenting is not the easiest role I've ever taken on, and going into it a second time feels more daunting than the first, not less.

But there is something here.  I am learning something different here.  In these moments of her absolute rage-driven fury and full-fledged anger, I'm learning to hold steady.  I'm learning to be the center of calm no matter what.  To reassure this tiny little lady that all is well whether her emotions feel overwhelming or not.  I'm learning I can withstand the torrent of her rage and come out on the other side, frazzled some nights, calm on others.  But I can stand.  (well, many nights I can stand, sometimes I crumble)  And within the storm I can offer her something more.

I can offer.  I can tell her she's ok.  I can tell her emotions (even anger, rage, and sadness) are normal, fleeting, and absolutely NOT who she actually IS on the inside.  When I do that, it makes a difference.  After a good purge she calms herself and reluctantly does what needs to be done.  It's kind of amazing to watch, but then my kid is amazing (as all parents know of their own children)

We have these tiny opportunities with everyone we know.  Opportunities that are totally fleeting when the other person, or we ourselves are open in a raw, vulnerable, or rage/fear-filled way.  If those moments are passed over, or we allow them to drag us into rage, fear, and pain - we're missing the prime opportunity to build real intimacy.

Brene Brown (you know, the Vulnerability TEDtalk) calls it Ordinary Courage.  That is, it's not heroic to stand with my child while she screams bloody murder and to tell her she is a healthy wonderful being.  I'm not rushing into a fire and saving puppies and kittens when I share my fears with my husband and don't know how he'll respond.... or when I kindly tell someone something I think they don't want to hear, but I need to say.  But I'm being hugely courageous within the context of my ordinary life.

(I feel it as courage, which is to say, it doesn't feel comfortable ... and doesn't come easy)

Making the heart-to-heart connection, rather than the rage-to-rage connection moves us from a place of disconnect to a place of deepening trust, intimacy, respect, and love. That's where I want to be.  It's where I want to LIVE all the time.

With the holiday season upon us I think it's time to prepare, not for war as we meet our families - challenging and lovely as they are - but to prepare for love.  To look for those tiny moments to align heart-to-heart... a word, a listening ear, a touch, stepping up and being guided by heart rather than head. I think we can do it.  Just takes some ordinary courage.

Quote for Friday

“Each second we live is a new and unique moment of the universe, a moment that will never be again. And what do we teach our children? We teach them that two and two make four, and that Paris is the capital of France. When will we also teach them what they are? We should say to each of them: Do you know what you are? You are a marvel. You are unique. In all the years that have passed, there has never been another child like you. Your legs, your arms, your clever fingers, the way you move. You may become a Shakespeare, a Michelangelo, a Beethoven. You have the capacity for anything. Yes, you are a marvel. And when you grow up, can you then harm another who is, like you, a marvel? You must work, we must all work, to make the world worthy of its children.” -Pablo Picasso

As Little as Possible

In the last two days a flip was switched and I went from generally chill and relaxed into anxiety-ridden frustration.  And so I immediately hopped on my mat and took care of it dove into munching on the sweets that have piled up in our house and nearly nibbled my fingernails off.  Yesterday about all I could do to work with the situation was to set about making a small amount of order out of my house.

Today I had 20 minutes so a I sat down to sort out what on Earth was the cause... and so what could I do about it?    

Guess what?  In typical fashion for this time of year, I'd let my mental To-Do list absolutely overwhelm my actual amount of time and energy available.  I even thought I'd paired down my list this year, but when preggo, the list apparently needs to be much shorter.

After sitting with it, my list for the next two days looks like this:

Make cookies for the teachers at school

Bake gifts to give at the two parties we're going to this weekend

Wash, Dry, Fold, Sort, Put away  Laundry

Pull out the bed for my parents who are arriving tonight

Make food for the family at school who could use it

Make food for my bro and wife who just had a baby

Make healthy food for us and my parents who'll be around this weekend helping with said bro and baby

Put up the Chistmas tree

Put up holiday lights

Wrap the presents

Make the one little crafty thing for my daughter that I want to make

Blog

work on my website

find a permanent babysitter.

I took a page from the mom-book of a friend of mine and decided to do absolutely as little as possible that I could still feel OK about getting at least something done.  

The result:  I feel a whole ton better.  I'm sitting here blogging when I don't even "have" to be, and something inside of me feels a lot softer than it did when I woke up this morning.  I'm also running on way less sugar.

It's reminding me of the teaching that we don't actually need to over-do, and over effort in our asana poses or in the application of the principles to the poses.  In the practice, in our bodies, and in our lives, it is so much more about being sensitive to subtlies and adjusting mindfully, always doing just what is needed and not a bit more.  Doing more usually doesn't help.

My new to-do list for the holiday season:

Asana (even if it's all restoratives all month)

Yoga Nidra and guided savasanas

Meditation and Pranayama

Go to bed early when possible

Give Presence

and that's enough.  

Anything else is icing on the gingerbread.

Contemplation: How little could you allow yourself to do in the next few weeks?

Friday Quote

"You must give up the life you had planned 

in order to have the life that is waiting for you." 

 - Joseph Campbell

Why I'm Grateful for the Destruction of Anusara

I couldn't exactly decide how to name this post.  "Destruction of Anusara" seems so massive, but "Anusara Situation" doesn't really sum up where things are within the ruins of that organization and the continuation of John Friend and all of the teachers who were once a part of it - now 10 months later.

To me it feels like a destruction.  Still feels like a death.  (Super rosy post tonight, huh!)  Not what I'd usually be grateful for - the demise of a living breathing amazing thing I once loved.  And yet, as I shared with students a few weeks ago, I most certainly am deeply grateful.

A year ago at this time I was striving for acceptance into a club that I thought I would never be good enough to fit into.  I was deeply afraid of the man who held my entire yoga teaching career fate in his hands, and I was slowly but surely trying to quietly and gently tap my way into a system that I wasn't sure would ever want me.  I certainly thought I would never be good enough and I'd heard just a tiny amount of stories of the scrutiny that I might be put under for even attempting my way in. (now I've heard enough to make my head spin!!!)

I wanted it.  I needed it. I thought I was nothing without it.  I didn't believe for a single second that I would ever be enough.  And secretly all of this confirmed my deeply held beliefs that I didn't matter, wasn't important, and honestly would never ever be worthy.  I thought I needed a piece of paper with someone important signing off on it to tell me that I belonged.

Probably even if I was in the club "Certified Teachers"  I'd still never measure up because I was second generation, not one of the first who actually had John's ear.

And then the world turned on its head.  And I left.

All of this stuff I'd poured my heart and soul into vanished by my own free will. Suddenly I was inviting myself to stand shakily on my own two feet, and only on my own two feet.  To make it or break it, attract or repel, grow or shrink by my own volition.  

The first few months were blurry.  I lost any juice I'd ever had, but thank goodness other teachers said that happens to them too.  

(and then I got pregnant and the haze of 3 months of hormonal hangover didn't help)

But then, Autumn.  The hormonal fog lifted and suddenly I feel different.  

I am grateful for the downturn of Anusara because now I own my own life.  I am my own teacher, and not one single person can tell me whether I'm doing well, or deserving, or am worthy to stand up in front of people.  Well, not a person who's barely shared the room with me and who inspires fear.... my students can always offer feedback - the biggest being that they return or not.  

I've learned that I don't need the piece of paper.  I don't need the signature, or someone coming in from outside to tell me I've made it, I'm worthy, I'm enough, I'm doing a good job.  I'll do that for myself thank you very much.

Instead I'm learning now to stand STRONG on my own two feet.  To count on my intuition and Shakti-Ma, and to get honest and open.  I'm learning not to stop and simultaneously to open myself to new ideas and to some seriously kick-ass people around me.  I'm learning that my inspiration flows much better when I let go of the rules of 'how it has to be done' to fit the bill and instead follow the way my spirit moves me.  

I'm no cookie-cutter.  Not striving to be someone I'm not for one instant anymore.  Reality is way more interesting and way more REAL.  

And so I'm glad for the change.  Grateful to be heading into 2013 a free woman.

Pep Talk: Let it Show

Dear One,

It's time to let it out.  It's time to start talking.  To start showing how you feel.  All of this keeping it in -in your head is crazy-making.  It's time for you to boldly step forward into feeling your feelings and letting them be known.

I can see how much you are fighting.  Is it that they are not allowed? Anger, Fear, Shame, Guilt, Sadness?   Are they allowed to be a part of your repertoire?  If not, you know you are denying an enormous part of your human existence.  Time to let that start to come out.

The way emotions work is a lot like a faucet.  Best when unclogged and freed up to flow easily.  If you try to block the cold eventually the hot will be blocked too.

You can't experience joy until you allow your sadness and anger to move out of the way.

Again, there's no one to be but you.  But it's time to really BE YOU.  Full force.  Angry, messy, wonder-filled, joy filled.  Turn off the mute button to your feelings and let them flow.

with love,
me


And here's some Ben Folds Five to encourage you.... (no idea why there are fraggles, but OK)

Talk. Don't Type

I've spent a good part of the weekend and now into my Monday in a state of low-level anxiety brought on by the knowledge that I need a babysitter so that I'll be able to go to work tomorrow.  If parenthood is a full-time job, this is most definitely one of the more stressful parts of my job.  I loathe finding babysitters.

I really hate to do it for several reasons... not the least of which is that it means I actually have to ask for help (gasp!).  That is a skill I seem to have missed during basic human training.

Once I get over that and I finally decide to bite the bullet and ask someone, then comes the piece I resist even more:  I have to ask, and then, they may actually turn me down.  And it's not that I mind being rejected in this way.  I honestly don't take it personally if my babysitter has plans when I'm calling at the last minute, I have the ego strength to handle that.  No.  The problem is, that I might make them feel bad for having to turn me down.  And so instead of making them feel bad for, you know, having clear boundaries and turning me down,  I'd rather sweat it out, and make myself sick with anxiety.

And yes, I do see the humor and absolute absurdity in this situation.

(and my babysitters are sweet gals who do genuinely seem to feel bad when they turn me down, but that's besides the point)

It's funny.  So I've perfected all sorts of methods (with gratitude to modern society) for avoiding the intensity of the fleeting discomfort for my babysitters or myself in the rejection.  Mostly I use texting, email, and facebook.  I type anything I possibly can.  That way, they just type back, we don't see each other, we don't speak to each other, no disappointment or dismay is really conveyed and there is a sense of separation from the actual interaction.  It works.

Except.

That's not what I'm here to do.  I'm here to literally learn how to courageously step into the intensity of intimacy over and over again.  I'm here to learn to use my voice to ask for what I need, say what I think, and build connections.  Texting, emails, and facebook messages just don't afford me any sense of really doing that.

I have little mantras that I live by... or, well, they bounce around in my head when I'm needing a reminder to live as the person I want to be.  The one that kicked in again today was this:  Talk. Don't Type.  As in, pick up the phone, or walk into a personal connection with someone else.  Sticky and messy and confusing and intense as it is.  This is the crucible of humanity.  If I want to be an amazing human, and I DO, I've got to start talking to other humans.

Tonight I switched gears after several failed attempts via messaging techniques... I called a babysitter who was a long shot.  Though she turned me down, she helped me.  She found me someone else.  That wouldn't have happened over a text, and I'd probably still be chewing my nails trying to decide what to do.

I want to live as a full human being.  I'll do my best to remember to:  Talk. Don't Type.

Attention Grabbers

Sitting at my desk, late afternoon (almost to the witching hour, but not quite) writing an email... or maybe it's facebooking, not quite sure.. a faint buzzing, a feeling of warmth and pressure on my arm.  Slowly.  Slowly.  Slowly out of the glaze of computer screen eyes it comes into focus.

My 4 year old daughter by my side:  "Mommy,  I'm here."  Barely any response from me, maybe it's a grunt.  "Oh, Mommy, it's Me."  A turning and looking into her eyes. "Hi Sweetie"  And a turning back away.  Just finishing up.  She exits.
And returns holding the stuffed seal that was mine from about her age until when she took it over.  "Mommy,  look who it is;  It's your favorite."  Another turn.  And finally a closed laptop.  It took the big gun to get me to actually pay attention.  I seriously hope this is not her only memory of me from her childhood -- the back of my head with a glowing screen just beyond it.

She's standing by my side saying: "It's Me" (the most amazing wonderful creature that ever walked the Earth, she could add)  And I'm zoned into something else.

-----

Our bodies do the same thing for us every single day.  They give us little tiny moments of saying: "Hello.  It's me.  I'm Here."  They tell us "I'm needing a little stretch, or a snack, or to use the bathroom.  Hey, I could use some rest"  They're pretty remarkable in how they give us those tiny little inklings.  I think though, a lot of times those tiny impulses are completely lost on me as I dive into what "has to happen" and the "requirements of my day" or of motherhood.

And then our bodies do just what my daughter so brilliantly did today: they up the anty.  Usually the tactic becomes PAIN.  The less than kind indicator that we could be paying closer attention.  Physical pain is, in general in my opinion, an indication that something just isn't quite right.  That we could honestly offer just a little bit more focus to the real, truth-filled needs of our bodies.

And so in the practice of Hatha Yoga, HeartFirst Yoga, as I like to describe what I'm teaching now,  we can offer our bodies a moment of deeper listening.  An authentic honoring of the knowledge living there.  We can slow down, or speed up.  We can rest or hold the pose.  We can skip class or go to class based not on the day of the week but on the impulse in our blood.

You always have a choice of where to put your attention.  I know my body will never guide me in the wrong direction.

Cirque du Soleil-ing it

A friend of mine started her meditation practice about a year ago.  She started small, just a few minutes a day and had great consistency for probably 6 months or more.  After a little hiccup, she started up again this spring.  Then in the summer she upped her time to somewhere around 30 minutes.  The first time she spoke to me about it she was so thrilled!  Things were shifting in the practice.  Things were new and different and exciting.  She felt she just might be able to enjoy it and really get into meditating.

And then.  It just stopped.  Something shifted and she absolutely cannot make it to her seat.

When I spoke to her shortly after the meditation stopped she sounded so dejected.  She seemed entirely down on herself and strung out about it.  Judging herself and her stopping.

I listened intently and reminded her that we all have fits and starts with everything, especially when we're working on incorporating a new habit into our lives.  Even really great habits, probably because they're so good for us, are challenging to maintain as we get started.  I'm not sure where she is on things now.

But I've been thinking about it as I watch myself, my students, and my friends struggle with maintaining consistency in our practices over time.

Did you ever see Cirque du Soleil?  If you've ever caught them live or on TV you might have witnessed something pretty remarkable, a missed trick, a mistake.  While it's kind of remarkable that they miss the trick - it seems to be an incredibly well oiled machine, but human obviously - what I find even more remarkable is how the performers don't even miss a beat before attempting again, and even again if needed.  Usually by the 3rd attempt they've gotten it down and the show moves on.  No judgement, no fear, no stopping along the way to hem-and-haw, b*tch and moan... none of that,  just doing it again.
Ha, maybe it's the yoda concept: Either do or do not, there is no try.

I think we could stand to take a little bit of a Cirque approach to our practices.  Certainly life makes practice challenging at times (inner life or outer life), and so practices drop off.  I'm not particularly worried about that.  I'm much more interested in how quickly I can pick myself back up, do a triple flip and land back on my feet.  No judgement about time lost along the way.  The longer we dwell in the misery of "I stopped practicing" and "I should practice today" the more mired down we become.

If instead we focus on how to pick ourselves back up and assess what we really truly want to include in our lives, the practice may just have the chance to truly take root and become a deeply important part of our daily (or near daily) lives.

Your Own Personal Ganesha

Seems like everywhere I turn the folks around me are going through major upheaval in their personal and professional lives.  Lots of peeps I know are on the edge of making large changes that honestly they don't want to make.  Big decisions, holding tough ground, and fighting for their rights in places that they don't particularly want to do it.

And they're coming to me with it.  (which, honestly, I love).  I'd Love even more to be able to take out a magic wand and *poof* these problems away.  It's really sort of what they're asking me to do.  "here's all this crummy stuff.  Could you please hold it for me?  Better yet, could you please please make it stop, and just make it go away?"  It would kind of rule to have that ability.

Makes me feel a little like Ganesha, you know, the round bellied dude often referred to as: the Remover of Obstacles.  As if he's going to throw giant boulders out of roadways or something.  Many of us think of him exactly as that.  If you've got a problem, you go to Ganesha and ask him to take it away.  He sits at the doorway to temples, taking problems off your back so you can go in and have a beautiful experience of some sort.

But, there's another way to see things.  As explained at a John Friend workshop I attended in my Anusara days.  Ganesha does sit in the doorway, but he actually IS an obstacle himself.  He's the gatekeeper.  Instead of taking away the problems, he checks to see if you are strong enough, have enough wisdom, courage, compassion, self-love etc to take on the magnitude of solution really required to solve the situation you've encountered.

So instead of asking him to take it away, we can go and ask for the help we need to be strong enough to move that darn boulder ourselves.

I really like that idea these days, because my problems are my problems.  If I come to you with them for perspective and validation or whatever that's great, but they're still mine.  And essentially,  I still have to be the one to woman up and deal with them... with as much courage, love and integrity as possible.  I'm tired of selling myself short and giving up my power to others expecting them to fix things for me.

So I'm thinking that's my new take on helping friends too.  I'll gladly listen.  I'll gladly validate.  But most gladly I'll do my best to build you up so that you know you can deal with this yourself.  Because, honestly, you can.  I absolutely believe that!

Friday Quote

A yogi in a steady posture 

easily becomes immersed in the Heart

Shiva Sutras