I had a dream last night that I was a character in Stephen King's The Dark Tower series. Those who've read know it's partially a story about the relationship between an author and his characters. My dream placed me at the end of the book, where I had to say goodbye to King as he left the world of the books and returned to Maine. I knew that, despite any attempts I might make, my narrative was complete, and my story was done.
At some point, the authors of your life will leave you behind. Or you will leave them behind. Some difference, no difference. It could be a girlfriend or an organization or a practice or anything. She will stop taking your calls or they will inform you that you services are no longer needed or you will no longer be able to do the asana. It is inevitable. Entropy comes for everyone.
And when you wake up from the nightmare, you realize that you have no author, or that everything is your author. Some difference, no difference. The story keeps going, and what you think is an ending is just a really sad part of the book.
Or a really happy one. Maybe if enough of your authors disappear, you can stop living narratives and start living reality.
Showing posts with label REBUT. Show all posts
Showing posts with label REBUT. Show all posts
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Perfect
I feel like I have to be perfect, or everything I care about will be taken away from me. It's only gotten worse since the REBUT, when it really was.
One of the unfortunate consequences of this feeling is that I put so much pressure on myself when I go after the things that I care about. It's counterproductive, but it's what I do. This pressure has probably gotten worse since the REBUT. Then again, it's possible that, since the REBUT, I'm now going after things that I really, truly want for the first time ever.
And it's scary. But I'm doing it.
Something I need to start doing again is writing here. Lately I've saved all my best thoughts for teacher training, but the whole point is, one doesn't have to have a perfect thought to write. I like writing, and someday I'd like to get paid to write about the kinds of things I write about here, now, for free.
So I'd better get back to getting the reps in.
One of the unfortunate consequences of this feeling is that I put so much pressure on myself when I go after the things that I care about. It's counterproductive, but it's what I do. This pressure has probably gotten worse since the REBUT. Then again, it's possible that, since the REBUT, I'm now going after things that I really, truly want for the first time ever.
And it's scary. But I'm doing it.
Something I need to start doing again is writing here. Lately I've saved all my best thoughts for teacher training, but the whole point is, one doesn't have to have a perfect thought to write. I like writing, and someday I'd like to get paid to write about the kinds of things I write about here, now, for free.
So I'd better get back to getting the reps in.
Monday, January 21, 2013
When Yoga Hurts
This practice keeps teaching me things.
Somehow, some way, I decided my practice needed less focus on technique and more on how my body actually felt. In Journey Into Power, which I'm reading as part of my teacher training, Baron Baptiste instructs us to do as much, but I'm happy to say that the idea came to me from my practice. At some point in the last few months, my practice told me that a laser focus on how it felt was my next step.
I'm less than happy with the results.
I hurt.
It's not hurt from my practice; rather, it's hurt my practice is revealing. I have lot of hurt stored up in my body. Specifically, deep in my hips and in my shoulder joints and in the muscles of my upper back. I'd known about the back muscle stuff for a while. I have the hardest time relaxing my shoulders, which may have been the impetus for my new emphasis. I was tired of teachers pushing my shoulders down in Warrior 2.
The soreness in my joints surprises me. Some of it may come from the fact that I'm not quite back in the practice rhythm I was in prior to Christmas. I had been hitting the heated classes at Cleveland Yoga 3-4 times a week, and they are the most rigorous classes I have attended on a regular basis. The "rigor=openness" equation isn't perfect, but in my case, I think I was more open, particularly in the hips. Due to travel, I haven't gotten back into that rhythm post holidays yet, and my body is telling me I need to.
But I don't think that's everything. Baptiste talks about how our bodies carry around everything that ever happened to us, an idea he grabbed from the ancients. Every hurt, every slight, every stress, and every REBUT has a home in our body, until we learn to let go of it. I think of myself as a person with a good sense of my inner landscape who does a good job of avoiding repression.
And yet...
During Saturday's savasana I had a pretty deep conversation with the muscles in my upper back. I told them they didn't need to hold all of my stress, that the rest of my body and my heart and mind and soul could help handle the load. My shoulders weren't so sure. They started talking about all the stuff that I could be worried about: my job, my relationship, my future. They said that they'd been taking care of all that heavy stuff for so long, that I had no idea what I was getting into when I said I would take some of the load. I left class pretty sad but grateful, because I felt like I understood some little part of me I hadn't before.
Hmm.
Somehow, some way, I decided my practice needed less focus on technique and more on how my body actually felt. In Journey Into Power, which I'm reading as part of my teacher training, Baron Baptiste instructs us to do as much, but I'm happy to say that the idea came to me from my practice. At some point in the last few months, my practice told me that a laser focus on how it felt was my next step.
I'm less than happy with the results.
I hurt.
It's not hurt from my practice; rather, it's hurt my practice is revealing. I have lot of hurt stored up in my body. Specifically, deep in my hips and in my shoulder joints and in the muscles of my upper back. I'd known about the back muscle stuff for a while. I have the hardest time relaxing my shoulders, which may have been the impetus for my new emphasis. I was tired of teachers pushing my shoulders down in Warrior 2.
The soreness in my joints surprises me. Some of it may come from the fact that I'm not quite back in the practice rhythm I was in prior to Christmas. I had been hitting the heated classes at Cleveland Yoga 3-4 times a week, and they are the most rigorous classes I have attended on a regular basis. The "rigor=openness" equation isn't perfect, but in my case, I think I was more open, particularly in the hips. Due to travel, I haven't gotten back into that rhythm post holidays yet, and my body is telling me I need to.
But I don't think that's everything. Baptiste talks about how our bodies carry around everything that ever happened to us, an idea he grabbed from the ancients. Every hurt, every slight, every stress, and every REBUT has a home in our body, until we learn to let go of it. I think of myself as a person with a good sense of my inner landscape who does a good job of avoiding repression.
And yet...
During Saturday's savasana I had a pretty deep conversation with the muscles in my upper back. I told them they didn't need to hold all of my stress, that the rest of my body and my heart and mind and soul could help handle the load. My shoulders weren't so sure. They started talking about all the stuff that I could be worried about: my job, my relationship, my future. They said that they'd been taking care of all that heavy stuff for so long, that I had no idea what I was getting into when I said I would take some of the load. I left class pretty sad but grateful, because I felt like I understood some little part of me I hadn't before.
Hmm.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
When You Need Yoga
I haven't been writing about yoga as much lately. It hasn't been a conscious decision. Someone who shall remain nameless teased me that TWEDP had turn into a yoga-exclusive blog. Being a contrarian, I suppose my subconscious could be driving me to write about other things as a way to prove him wrong, but I don't even think that's the case. For one thing, other stuff has been grabbing my attention.
The bigger issue is that yoga has been relatively tough for me lately. I've been traveling a lot. While I'm still keeping up with the physical practice of yoga, I'm doing so at times of the day to which my body isn't accustomed. Mostly, though, the problem is stress. On Monday, I move out of my apartment and into the great unknown. The stress of moving and looking for a job has made asana practice, meditation, and mindful living much more difficult. My muscles are tight as a drum, and even the best classes at the World's Greatest Yoga Studio fail to fully loosen them up. Stress is also allowing old insecurities to manifest themselves much more easily, which makes living joy, equanimity, compassion, and kindness much more difficult.
...and I don't know how to make an artful transition to say what I want to say next, which is that I'm incredibly proud of myself. I recognize how thoroughly terrified I am, and I am doing my best to work with that feeling to get through that feeling. I'm still on my mat 4-5 times a week, even if I'm having a harder time hitting poses that I generally take for granted. I'm still sitting down to mediate (almost) every night, even if calming the mind is impossible. I'm still reading the Sutras (almost) every night before I go to bed. Life has thrown some fairly significant obstacles at me, but I'm still here. I'm still present. I'm still mindful.
All of this makes me recall the guy who showed up for his first yoga class this past Monday. Our instructor's profound philosophy towards beginner yoga can be summed up with the ancient yogic maxim "sink or swim," so this poor kid got a full-on FSY class. As we were walking out, he was moving so slowly he could have been limping if I didn't know better, if I didn't know that feeling where every muscle in your body is clenched up and movement seems impossible.
And yet he had the biggest smile on his face.
Word up, kid. If you keep showing up, so will I.
The bigger issue is that yoga has been relatively tough for me lately. I've been traveling a lot. While I'm still keeping up with the physical practice of yoga, I'm doing so at times of the day to which my body isn't accustomed. Mostly, though, the problem is stress. On Monday, I move out of my apartment and into the great unknown. The stress of moving and looking for a job has made asana practice, meditation, and mindful living much more difficult. My muscles are tight as a drum, and even the best classes at the World's Greatest Yoga Studio fail to fully loosen them up. Stress is also allowing old insecurities to manifest themselves much more easily, which makes living joy, equanimity, compassion, and kindness much more difficult.
...and I don't know how to make an artful transition to say what I want to say next, which is that I'm incredibly proud of myself. I recognize how thoroughly terrified I am, and I am doing my best to work with that feeling to get through that feeling. I'm still on my mat 4-5 times a week, even if I'm having a harder time hitting poses that I generally take for granted. I'm still sitting down to mediate (almost) every night, even if calming the mind is impossible. I'm still reading the Sutras (almost) every night before I go to bed. Life has thrown some fairly significant obstacles at me, but I'm still here. I'm still present. I'm still mindful.
All of this makes me recall the guy who showed up for his first yoga class this past Monday. Our instructor's profound philosophy towards beginner yoga can be summed up with the ancient yogic maxim "sink or swim," so this poor kid got a full-on FSY class. As we were walking out, he was moving so slowly he could have been limping if I didn't know better, if I didn't know that feeling where every muscle in your body is clenched up and movement seems impossible.
And yet he had the biggest smile on his face.
Word up, kid. If you keep showing up, so will I.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Stress and the Future
I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse. It's a tough time. No need to go into the details.
This stress comes from worries about the future. However, I have no doubt that I'm going to keep eating, sleeping under a roof, and doing all the things that are critical to a healthy, full life come July 1st. There is a zero percent chance I go hungry or homeless.
Instead, my stress comes right from my fears about my self-image. Specifically, who am I when I'm done at Wake Forest? How does it affect my status, how others perceive me? I'm also worried that the next j.o. I take will keep me from doing the things that matter.
Really, the things that are causing my stress are that simple and that inconsequential. Like, maybe Bryan doesn't need to take such a job. Or maybe Bryan can quit such a job if he finds it is getting in the way of what matters. He has a very good friend who did just that, and life worked out just fine for her. As for status, whatever. The only people who judge someone by the status of their job are jerks and...me, I guess.
And I don't think I'm a jerk. Insert smiley face emoticon.
If you're going through a tough time, I recommend you break down what scares you. A little honesty and introspection can show us that a lot of the fears about the future we have aren't nearly as bad as our heads make them out to be. Everything that you really want and need is always available to you.
Ben Riggs' latest masterpiece directly influenced this post. Make 15 minutes to read and digest it. You'll be glad you did.
This stress comes from worries about the future. However, I have no doubt that I'm going to keep eating, sleeping under a roof, and doing all the things that are critical to a healthy, full life come July 1st. There is a zero percent chance I go hungry or homeless.
Instead, my stress comes right from my fears about my self-image. Specifically, who am I when I'm done at Wake Forest? How does it affect my status, how others perceive me? I'm also worried that the next j.o. I take will keep me from doing the things that matter.
Really, the things that are causing my stress are that simple and that inconsequential. Like, maybe Bryan doesn't need to take such a job. Or maybe Bryan can quit such a job if he finds it is getting in the way of what matters. He has a very good friend who did just that, and life worked out just fine for her. As for status, whatever. The only people who judge someone by the status of their job are jerks and...me, I guess.
And I don't think I'm a jerk. Insert smiley face emoticon.
If you're going through a tough time, I recommend you break down what scares you. A little honesty and introspection can show us that a lot of the fears about the future we have aren't nearly as bad as our heads make them out to be. Everything that you really want and need is always available to you.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Packing Conflicts
At the end of the month, I am moving out of my apartment. Like a responsible adult, I have already started packing. Remember, nothing makes me feel better than feeling like a responsible adult.
Like most everything else in my life for the last year, packing leaves me profoundly conflicted. I am excited about what is to come but terrified that I don't know what that is yet. I am both excited and terrified this move represents a step towards a new job and possibly career. I am excited and relieved because moving out represents another break from my soon-to-be previous employer but sad because living in this apartment has meant so much more than said employer, has opened up so many amazing doors, and has led to the creation of so many wonderful friendships.
I've reached the point where I'm pretty comfortable with who I am. Few things that can happen to me could still rock my sense of self, although I know that something down the line will do just that at some point. But as for now, starting down a move and job fears, all I can think of is that I've done all of this before, so I don't get too worked up about anything. However my situation resolves itself or doesn't, there will be good and bad aspects to it.
So I think being conflicted is probably an indicator that I can see more of the whole the picture. Not all of it by a long shot, but enough to know...something worth knowing, I guess.
All of these conflicted emotions, and all I'm doing, at least for now, is putting a lot of stuff in storage and moving up to Bull City. Given the 95 percent chance that I eventually move out of the Triangle, I can't wait for, and can't stand the thought of, the conflict I'll feel then.
One thing I am not conflicted about: LSU has a real shot of knocking off Kentucky. CHAOS ALWAYS CHAOS (c) Takao Yamada.
Like most everything else in my life for the last year, packing leaves me profoundly conflicted. I am excited about what is to come but terrified that I don't know what that is yet. I am both excited and terrified this move represents a step towards a new job and possibly career. I am excited and relieved because moving out represents another break from my soon-to-be previous employer but sad because living in this apartment has meant so much more than said employer, has opened up so many amazing doors, and has led to the creation of so many wonderful friendships.
I've reached the point where I'm pretty comfortable with who I am. Few things that can happen to me could still rock my sense of self, although I know that something down the line will do just that at some point. But as for now, starting down a move and job fears, all I can think of is that I've done all of this before, so I don't get too worked up about anything. However my situation resolves itself or doesn't, there will be good and bad aspects to it.
So I think being conflicted is probably an indicator that I can see more of the whole the picture. Not all of it by a long shot, but enough to know...something worth knowing, I guess.
All of these conflicted emotions, and all I'm doing, at least for now, is putting a lot of stuff in storage and moving up to Bull City. Given the 95 percent chance that I eventually move out of the Triangle, I can't wait for, and can't stand the thought of, the conflict I'll feel then.
One thing I am not conflicted about: LSU has a real shot of knocking off Kentucky. CHAOS ALWAYS CHAOS (c) Takao Yamada.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Attachment: Why I Didn't Write Every Day
I could point out that I wrote plenty yesterday, just not for this blog.
Shoot, I just did. Is that defensive? Must consult ancient texts and exalted masters.
But even after I got done my stuff yesterday, I fully intended to do a blog post, because I felt like I had to. I didn't want to, but I felt an obligation to be persistent in my practice. I felt good about not having missed a day, and I wanted that feeling to continue.
Is that an attachment?
See, we yogis are very big on letting go of our attachments. We value the good things in our life, but we know that everything is temporary and almost nothing is essential except walking the mindful path. One should never compromise or let go of the mindful path. One should be prepared to let everything else go that is not central to that path, because everything that is not central will pass away and will become a distraction at some point anyway.
I don't buy that logic in its entirety. Some things, I will hold onto until the bitter end, no matter how bad or distracting they become, because I know in my heart they are the good and right things with which to connect myself. Maybe that means they're not attachments at all. I don't know.
What I do know is, I am at a crossroads in my life. I have to give up a major attachment. It's an attachment that has helped shape and define who I am for a long time, and for the most part it has served me well and fairly. It has helped me walk the mindful path, most of the time. But it isn't any more, so it's going away, and I am scared of what that means. Now I need to define who I am in the absence of the attachment. I think I know that who I am does not change just because my situation does, but who I am is being put to the test. In order for me to ace that test, I need to let go. I need to move on.
Moving on--letting go of the past--can be very, very difficult for me.
All of this was running through my mind yesterday as I sat down to write a blog entry, which I really didn't want to do, and which was going to cause me a lot of stress. What better time to practice letting go? With my other actions this weekend, I served the goals I set for myself with TWEDP. I have actually done a pretty fantastic job being mindful the last week or so. And if I skip a day of blogging because it feels like the right thing to do, it certainly doesn't mean I won't get back on the horse today.
Maybe letting go is a practice too. If I start with the small stuff, maybe I'll get better at the big stuff.
On that note, I think I'll go pack up some more books to take to the used bookstore. If anyone wants an old but functional gas grill, holla.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Compassion: The Word of the Day
Actually, compassion is tied for Word of the Day status with "soy." The homie Sprows just came up with the greatest sequel title ever: "Latte 2: You Soy Crazy."
But I digress.
It's been a trying few days. I'm near the completion of an article, and anyone who's written anything for submission knows that those moments before you hand it are sheer terror. Added to the general upheaval of my life right now, this article is kicking my a$$. I'm tired a lot. It's kind of tough to talk to people for very long. I want to fill a swimming pool with Glenlivet and reincarnate Hunter S. Thompson to baptize me and wash/anesthetize my sins away.
After trying a bunch of different strategies today to deal with all my stuff, I finally decided that I was going to try to worry about the troubles of others for a while. I'm working on compassion without expectation of immediate reward. Of course, I hope unselfishly concerning myself with the well being of others plants those good karmic seeds that will send angels my way to help me out, but it's karma's job to worry about the return on my investment, not mine. I'm interested in trying to help people just for it's own sake.
So if you see a bald guy walking down the street looking dazed and friendly in Chapel Thrill, know that he's just repeating a one-word mantra and looking for people to help. If you need someone to help you move this weekend, you're in luck. Holla.
It's been a trying few days. I'm near the completion of an article, and anyone who's written anything for submission knows that those moments before you hand it are sheer terror. Added to the general upheaval of my life right now, this article is kicking my a$$. I'm tired a lot. It's kind of tough to talk to people for very long. I want to fill a swimming pool with Glenlivet and reincarnate Hunter S. Thompson to baptize me and wash/anesthetize my sins away.
After trying a bunch of different strategies today to deal with all my stuff, I finally decided that I was going to try to worry about the troubles of others for a while. I'm working on compassion without expectation of immediate reward. Of course, I hope unselfishly concerning myself with the well being of others plants those good karmic seeds that will send angels my way to help me out, but it's karma's job to worry about the return on my investment, not mine. I'm interested in trying to help people just for it's own sake.
So if you see a bald guy walking down the street looking dazed and friendly in Chapel Thrill, know that he's just repeating a one-word mantra and looking for people to help. If you need someone to help you move this weekend, you're in luck. Holla.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Pain and Gratitude
One of the things I have discovered in the first couple weeks of this project is that it has allowed me to start to talk about things I have previously been uncomfortable talking about.
So.
Let's talk about pain.
If you're a reader this close to TWEDP's inception, you probably know me fairly well, so you know 2011 was an incredibly rough year. My 2011 ended 8 days ago, as did the Really Bad and Unfair Thing (which we'll call REBUT, because it's funny). Of course, REBUT may be over, but I have a lot of hurt, anger, frustration, helplessness, disbelief, and fear left.
In short, I have a sadness.
Because I tend to compare things maybe a little too much, I've started to think about the last time I had this big a sadness about me nine years ago. For all the similarities, the two major differences between 2003 and now are most important.
One, the stuff that happened in 2003 was much, much worse. At the end of the day, if the people you love are still around, you're doing ok.
Two, I am so much better equipped to deal with pain now. Age and experience, and the growth and perspective and wisdom that come with it, are just about the most valuable things we can have. If you're significantly younger than I am, know that it really, truly does get better, not just because tough times don't last but because you start to know that they won't last and you better understand how to bide your time and deal until they end.
Yoga also gets a shout out here. Through yoga, I have learned to accept what I can't change. When I was 25, the idea of being really, really sad mad me think I was somehow broken and inferior. So, in addition to being sad, I was frantic all the time about why I was so sad. As you can imagine, this combination of sad and frantic did not produce optimal results.
Now, though--ok, I've got a sadness, just like I did before. That sadness is going to be around for awhile. I will do everything I can to make sure it leaves as quickly as possible, but I'm not going to try to chase it off with a torch and pitchfork. It'll be here until it goes, and that's ok. In the meantime, I might as well make friends with the sadness. We spend a lot of time reading bad Star Wars books and staring out the window at nothing in particular. That's what the sadness wants to do, and really, it's not that bad. I like Star Wars.
Once I accepted the sadness, I could put it into some sort of perspective, which makes it pretty easy to remember that's not all I've got. I've got the best, best, best mom and dad on Earth. I've finally got a crew of filthy Durhamites who make the South feel like home. I've got a disturbingly loyal friend that calls me every day for no particular reason and with whom I share at least 50 percent of a brain. I've got a yoga community with classes that keep me challenged and instructors who seem to sense when I could really use a compliment. I've got an organization that trusts little ol' me to follow in the footsteps of a legend and teach 100 high school kids how to be better leaders and people.
LOVINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN IS WHAT I GOT.
(Couldn't resist)
Yup, I got a sadness, but I got a lot of other things that make the sadness seem far less daunting and ensure the sadness isn't going to stick around. In the meantime, sad sucks, but it's not the worst thing on Earth.
Being Chelsea Handler is.
And if it's Saturday, PANDAS
So.
Let's talk about pain.
If you're a reader this close to TWEDP's inception, you probably know me fairly well, so you know 2011 was an incredibly rough year. My 2011 ended 8 days ago, as did the Really Bad and Unfair Thing (which we'll call REBUT, because it's funny). Of course, REBUT may be over, but I have a lot of hurt, anger, frustration, helplessness, disbelief, and fear left.
In short, I have a sadness.
Because I tend to compare things maybe a little too much, I've started to think about the last time I had this big a sadness about me nine years ago. For all the similarities, the two major differences between 2003 and now are most important.
One, the stuff that happened in 2003 was much, much worse. At the end of the day, if the people you love are still around, you're doing ok.
Two, I am so much better equipped to deal with pain now. Age and experience, and the growth and perspective and wisdom that come with it, are just about the most valuable things we can have. If you're significantly younger than I am, know that it really, truly does get better, not just because tough times don't last but because you start to know that they won't last and you better understand how to bide your time and deal until they end.
Yoga also gets a shout out here. Through yoga, I have learned to accept what I can't change. When I was 25, the idea of being really, really sad mad me think I was somehow broken and inferior. So, in addition to being sad, I was frantic all the time about why I was so sad. As you can imagine, this combination of sad and frantic did not produce optimal results.
Now, though--ok, I've got a sadness, just like I did before. That sadness is going to be around for awhile. I will do everything I can to make sure it leaves as quickly as possible, but I'm not going to try to chase it off with a torch and pitchfork. It'll be here until it goes, and that's ok. In the meantime, I might as well make friends with the sadness. We spend a lot of time reading bad Star Wars books and staring out the window at nothing in particular. That's what the sadness wants to do, and really, it's not that bad. I like Star Wars.
Once I accepted the sadness, I could put it into some sort of perspective, which makes it pretty easy to remember that's not all I've got. I've got the best, best, best mom and dad on Earth. I've finally got a crew of filthy Durhamites who make the South feel like home. I've got a disturbingly loyal friend that calls me every day for no particular reason and with whom I share at least 50 percent of a brain. I've got a yoga community with classes that keep me challenged and instructors who seem to sense when I could really use a compliment. I've got an organization that trusts little ol' me to follow in the footsteps of a legend and teach 100 high school kids how to be better leaders and people.
LOVINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN IS WHAT I GOT.
(Couldn't resist)
Yup, I got a sadness, but I got a lot of other things that make the sadness seem far less daunting and ensure the sadness isn't going to stick around. In the meantime, sad sucks, but it's not the worst thing on Earth.
Being Chelsea Handler is.
And if it's Saturday, PANDAS
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