"I always thought that I would love to live by the sea. To travel the world... and live more simply." -Dido
So, big news - Tim and I are moving to Indonesia! We are going to go teach people how to scuba dive and lead trips in the oceans of the world.
As we prepare for this transition, we are selling or giving away nearly everything we own. And I do mean everything. I won't be taking my silverware and cooking pots to Indonesia. I won't be shipping my Ford Explorer to Indonesia. I won't need my boots or running shoes or mary-janes on our sandy island. It is a very interesting place to be - downsizing to three boxes of sentimental items (which will remain here) and a single backpack (that will come with). Sometimes it is a struggle and sometimes it is very freeing. And one of the major things that comes up in this process is non-attachment.
The first time the concept of non-attachment was presented to me, I misunderstood it. I was 22 and I thought that in order to not be attached to things, you had to not care about them, and I thought there was no way I could ever master being non-attached because quite simply, I cared too much. But lately I have learned that those who are non attached still care, it is that they understand that things in their core essence are just energy and that can be transferred to another type of energy. You have heard that famous Einstein idea that 'energy can neither be created nor destroyed, but can change form'? It is a lot like that. For example, I am selling my car. The energy/money tied up in the car will then turn into enough money to fund all expenses for three months in Indonesia. I didn't loose the car, I exchanged it, and gained three months of exploration.
Looking at non-attachment this way reminds me a lot of the old barter system, before there was a confirmed currency, people would trade things they had for things they need.
This week I have been asked, "Why not keep the car for the future when you come back?" I explain that for me it is about living in the present. When I am present, living on a 3 mile wide island in Indonesia, I will have no use for a car parked in Oregon. I can walk everywhere or simply take a camel. (Joking) But seriously, why keep energy tied up in a car 8,000 miles and possibly years away from me? Why not exchange it for energy that applies better to my present and less to "one day"? I find that a lot of the stuff I acquire and keep is for "one day." You know, the things we keep for situations that have not happened yet, but that we like to think we would like to be prepared for in order to better control the outcome of. I may not have used the item for years, but am saving it - just in case. But in the mean time, over years of waiting for just in case, the item is holding unused energy. I guess I am saying that I feel that by selling the things that don't fit in the backpack, I am harnessing more energy to put in the backpack.
I think that a big part of our attachment is identity. We collect and keep things that symbolize who we are. In this way, we externalize ourselves - forgetting that what is inside of us is just as strong, valuable and eternal. If my friend says that his possessions are part of who he is, he is placing their energy into items he owns. If suddenly, all those items were wiped out and lost in some natural disaster, would my friend be lost too? If all of your identity is tied up in material things, and those things are gone suddenly, are you less of a person? Nothing outside of ourselves ever makes us whole. I suppose this is why I am grateful that I have always been one to collect experiences over things.
Its not bad to have nice things. It is not bad to collect material items. Hey, its not even bad to massively hoard stuff. It is just a choice, and I suppose I write this to explain why I have made a different choice and what I learned from it.
Non-attachment is about letting go of the old to embrace the new. And it is funny how, as I do that with things in my garage, I am reminded that the same is true of beliefs and ideas. I have emotional things I hold on to because I feel that they make me who I am - or at one point I believed that. Sure, you will always be a culmination of everything that has ever happened to you, but it is okay to let some things go. You get to decide what you keep replaying and what you don't. There are some hurtful things family members said to me in the past, but I choose to let those go and move forward and not continue to tell others the story of how I was hurt. Because all I am doing with that is bringing up the sadness of the past into the present. My present isn't sad so I let go of those stories, of those comments and free up space within for a different kind of story that matches better with my present. Like that time when my father called just to say he was proud of me, or when my mother wrote to me that she felt the best part of her was alive in me. Or when my sister and I were cleaning house and laughed until we cried over something silly. I forget exactly what that silly thing was now, but I remember the joy and I choose to retain that. The love I feel inside my skin when I bring up these memories is something that will always be with me and cannot be wiped out or diminished. The more I replay it, the more it is a part of me and my present.
Last week, I sold my whitewater kayak to a kindred spirit of travel. I stopped by to visit family on the way home and shared my excitement about selling my boat. My nephew Caleb, who is 8 asked, "You sold your kayak? Does that mean you are no longer a whitewater kayaker?"
I tried to explain to Caleb - "No, I am still a kayaker. It is not the kayak that makes me a kayaker. I could rent a boat tomorrow and I would still know how to read the water and navigate through rapids. My body remembers how to roll back up if I flip over. So being a kayaker is something that is inside of me. Just like riding a bike - even if you have not rode a bike for a long time, you remember how, right? That knowledge doesn't leave when you give your bike away to someone else."
I think he understood. But then again, he's 8, and non-attachment isn't something I understood at 8, or even at 18. And only now, in the place in my life where I am letting go of more than I ever have before, am I truly starting to grasp what it is. You are more than your shoes, your gear, your car, your phone. What makes you beautiful is not your shoes or the beautiful fabrics you adorn yourself with. What makes you unique isn't in your house, its housed inside of you. When we pull our energy out of material things and into ourselves, we reclaim our energy and the stronger we become. The more we are at home within ourselves, the less we need couches and beds and specific kitchen utensils - the more comfortable we can be anywhere, even 8,000 miles from the familiar.
"The Spiritual Life is always about letting go. It is never about holding on. Let go and be free." - Jesse Lee Peterson
___________________________________________________________
For those who love lists like I do, and are curious, below are my lists of things I am keeping and things I am letting go.
The Give Away / Part With or Sell List:
Car
Appliances
Furniture
Kitchen Utensils
Shoes
Clothing
Old Injuries
Limiting Beliefs
Boat, Paddle board, Climbing Shoes and Harness
Plants
My phone
I acknowledge that I can re-buy 99% of my physical possessions at any point in the future if I choose to. I never loose them for good, they were never truly mine in the first place. They do not make me who I am.
The Keep List:
Memories that uplift me.
Stories that support joy and love.
Friendships.
Things people made for me with their own two hands. Cards that people I love hand-wrote me messages in. (These things cannot be replaced.)
Three books - favorite stories in a format that is difficult to re-buy. Also, the books my grandmother Peg Mayo wrote.
As for the rest of the bookshelf - I catalogued all the titles so I can re-buy them if I get to a place in the world where I feel I want to have a bookshelf of favorites again. In the mean time, I let go of all my hundreds of books so that others may enjoy them.
My trunk of childhood things, journals, photos, family heirlooms and sentimental items.
One pair of chaco sandals, six dresses, two long sleeve tops, five tank tops, two skirts and a pair of yoga pants. One fuzzy hooded sweatshirt.
My camera. My Laptop.
Knowledge, experience and love.
7.20.2013
What I Learned This Year of Being Alive
This is a little ditty about what I have learned this year of being alive: Lessons, skills, and spiritual growth. Look at it as a list - a random collection - rather than an article with a coherent storyline. And, of course, take it with a sprinkle of salt - because this is true for me may not necessarily mean it is true for you. My goal here is only to share: maybe you'll get something out of it, maybe you won't.
This has been a year of adventure. Most of the lessons I learned in the last 12 months took place in a foreign country thousands of miles from home...and yet at home within myself.
This was a year of new languages. I learned some Islandic, Hungarian, French, German, Italian, Greek and Cambodian but mostly Nepali. I found that my favorite phrases across all these have to do with making a connection - I learned to say things like "I agree with you" or "I understand" or "I am part of this." And so, I was shown that learning languages for me is about making a connection.
I learned that some of the best adventures come after other plans fall through. The less attached I am, the more free I am to enjoy something different, something better. For example, if my tour through Tibet hadn't been cancelled, I never would have discovered Parahawking!
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I learned that things happen best when they are ready. Pushing for something to happen doesn't always create the best possible outcome. This is a lesson in Flow: In Kauai, we had a Mango tree behind the house and every morning I would go out to see what had dropped overnight. Sometimes it was one mango on the ground, sometimes it was seven. Although the mangoes were reachable on the tree, I preferred to pick them up after the tree had released them, finding those were more ripe, more ready to be eaten than those I could pull down from the tree. We can push for things in our lives, but it often works out smoother when we are really ready. I am becoming more and more familiar of what it feels like to be in the flow in life.
I have learned how to sail, and have reveled in the freedom of waking up somewhere off a coast and randomly selecting the next island to journey towards that day. Without a pre-set itinerary, no controlled, laid-out plan, just an intention for fun - absolutely free to explore. (Efcharisto, Dave.)
I learned that I do not like Islandic Goats' Head Jelly but I love Hungarian Pogatcha biscuits and Turo Rudi cheese candy bars. How do you know you don't like it until you try it, right? (Köszönöm, Tunde.)
In yoga, as I hold a pose for several minutes, there gets to be a point where I shake or fidget or get so overwhelmed with the stretch or sensation that I want to get up, get out, bolt, run. It is usually just after that point that the pose really begins and I can bend deeper or the stretch gets yummy. The same is true in life: When it gets uncomfortable, that's the awesome point - because its about to get really good in terms of internal growth. If it is a very uncomfortable situation, I am about to learn something.
(Thanks, Dolly!)
I have learned there is a difference between obligation and love. In my family culture, I was taught that these two are inseparable. For example, in my family there is the unspoken idea of, "If you loved me - you would..." and this creates an obligation. When I do not do what I have been obligated to, I find myself filled with doubt and guilt. Guilt in this form is an attempt to meet others' needs. What a beautiful reminder to meet my own needs first. This year, I have honored myself in not putting myself in unhealthy situations with people, no matter how much I love them. And by meeting my own needs first in this way, I have been more mentally stable and healthy. To let go of the guilt, I remind myself that my needs are just as important as others' needs and I have to choose myself/my needs/ my health first. Believe me, this was not an easy lesson to learn, and it is a big one.
An interesting thing about family culture is that it is a learned pattern of behaviour. Once we are aware that it exists, we can choose to participate. Or, instead we can say, "This ends with me" and create a new pattern. None of it is right or wrong, it is simply what we choose for ourselves.
I have made a new habit: when something I set up goes wrong, instead of getting down on myself, I remember all the things I have done right and then let it go.
I learned that visualisation is the key to changing impossible to possible. If I can see it, I can do it.
In Nepal, Jessica Love taught me how to land a paraglider. This is counter-intuitive - you land into the wind. (Thanks, Jessica!)
I have been a caregiver in my past. And still, when I am close to a friend who is going through a tough situation, my first instinct is to try to fix it for them - I offer advice and work with them to design a plan to remedy things. But this year I have learned that a mature heart can care about someone and step back to see what they have to learn here and watch how they set up a situation to do so. If you fix something for someone, you take away their free will to choose, and if you do the work for them you take away their opportunity to learn. (Thanks, H for helping me learn this one. :)
The things you cherish most should go in your carry on bag and not be checked. Especially when traveling into Cambodia. (Laughing out loud!) And, even these are replaceable. When it comes to physical - It all is.
I have learned how to pitch an article to a paying publication in a format that gets accepted.
This year, I had a series of lessons about letting go of control. I spent a lot of my RTW trip looking for an address, a train station, friends I was supposed to meet, or a hostel. I learned how to have fun even when I am lost - to be joyful even when I am not totally sure/set/in control. A journey doesn't always have a map.
.jpg)
One of the hardest things I have run up against this year is when I do my best and others do not see that. I have learned how to take a deep breath and trust that I have done the best I could and to let it go. It is most important that I know I have done my best because I am the one who has to live with that, not others.
I learned how to make Phillipino Curry. A spicy seafood dish with coconut milk that sometimes turns purple with squid ink. :) (Salamat, Melanie!)
I learned how to talk so a dolphin will respond.
Quickbooks.
That Lake Balaton, Hungary has the greatest fish soup in the world! (Köszönöm, Zoli!)
How to be an efficient purchasing agent.
How, as a wholesale manager, when a client makes a request, they really don't want to hear the details of what you have to do, where you have to go or what you have to rearrange to make that thing happen for them They just want you to say yes. So, say yes, and worry about the details later. (Gracias, Stewart!)
That sturgeon can grow to five feet long! That's a big fish!
That you really can get anything through TSA if you have enough intention. 10 ounces of frosting? No problem.
That the holiday Easter was originally Ishtar, a celebration of the returning of the light (Spring Equinox). And that long before Jesus was even born or heard of, a woman named Ishtar (Lady of the Light) had a pet bunny, and that is where the Easter Bunny figure comes from.
I have been reminded that everyone has a story to tell. And something to teach me.
I learned that children don't need you to give them huge presents, or to teach them something complex, or to build them something. Sometimes the greatest gift of all is to show up and be constant enough for them to trust. (Dhanyabad didi, Poonam.)
I learned what a whale song sounds like underwater: As though someone is whistling in the distance.
That you really can design a life, a day, to be exactly what you want if you ask. This birthday was exactly that.
That friends don't have to speak your language. Language is just one thing you may have in common. Sometimes the deepest connections transcend language.
.jpg)
That although we think that others get how we feel about them - we should actually tell them. I love you, I want you in my life more, you inspire me, I appreciate all you do --None of these are guaranteed to be evident unless you voice it. There is no better time than now to let them know.
(Thanks, Dad.)
How to eat rice and curry and dal with my fingers: Nepali style. The Nepaleese believe that you have a better connection with your food and live healthier this way.
I learned that even train accidents do not have to be dramatic. Even if you were on the train, you can choose to take on the drama, or to let it belong to the others who were actually physically involved. And on that same day - I was reminded that the Universe is looking out for me.
(Thanks, Universe!)
One of the most important things in life is to trust yourself. To trust nature, trust others. Whatever happens, you are going to be okay, you are safe. Coming to a situation with trust can determine the course of its outcome. And I learned just how valuable this concept is when crawling on your belly through a tight cave in the pitch blackness, oh, say, 200 feet underground.
I learned that raptors can see you blink when they are far enough away that you can't see them.
(Thanks, Bob.)
That eating more salt can help raise low blood sugar.
The neatest creature I met this year was a cross between a hummingbird and a butterfly - a hummingbee. I didn't know they even existed until we met face to face. This encounter reminded me of how in 2007, off the ocast of the Galapagos, I saw a manta ray jump several feet into the air and then fall back into the sea like a giant, black heavy kite. Up until that point in my life, I had not clue Manta Rays even existed and yet there it was before me. My point here is that the world can always astound you. If you allow it space, there is always something new to learn. Even when you have studied and traveled and experienced so much, there is always the possibility that something spectacularly new will surprise you.
I have been reminded that those we love, we take with us. No matter the distance between you, when you have known someone in your heart, part of them is always there. It seems daily now that I think of my friends Tunde and Zoli in Hungary, of my guides through the caves of Budapest or over the Islandic moonscape of lava and moss, of sweet Caroline and her lovely family in St. Gallen, of Kristin in the yoga ashram in the mountains of Nepal, and of my much adored 8 year old Poonam in the orphanage of Kathmandu. They are here with me, their story intertwines with my story and my love for them expands me.
(For this I am grateful to so many, especially O.)
I have learned that if I feel moved to do something, I should do it. Do not wait until tomorrow to show someone kindness, they may not be there tomorrow. For example, Billie, the orphanage kitten I sought out food for, and took time to share kindness and peace with may not have lived to see another day. But in that moment, when he was safe in my lap and his belly was not knawing with hunger and he could relax enough to sleep, that moment made a difference. Its like throwing starfish back into the sea - sure, you may not be able to save them all, and perhpas it is not about being able to save them. Its about being moved to do something for others and actually following through. They may die tomorrow. We all die sometime. But if you were able to improve even just one moment for the better for them then yes, it was worth it.
I have learned the coorelation between thermals and living in the flow. Thermals are not something you can map out. Just like going with the flow doesn't always involve having a plan. It is more about feel. When flying a paraglider, you have to wait until you can feel the wind of the thermal on your fingers before you turn in that direction to rise higher. In paragliding, the goal is to fly, not to go somewhere. (Danka, Bernie.)
In Paris, I learned that a place is not what you have heard, what you have been told or even what you remember. If you are open enough, a place can surprise you for the better.
If at first you do not understand, ask, ask again. For example: If the bus driver says something, mumbled in a thick accent, and you don't catch what he said, walk up right then and ask him to repeat it. Ask several times if needed. To understand or to not understand can change the entire course of your journey... And the driver may be less pissed at you if hours later you have missed your stop...
When your address changes every two days, home becomes something inside that travels with you. The rooms change, the beds change, the cities change, but who I am is solid and familiar. In this way, I can feel at home wherever I am. The better you know yourself, the more you can be your own familiar when nothing else is.
And last but not by any means the least important...
Your time is your life. Be aware of how you are spending it.
This has been a year of adventure. Most of the lessons I learned in the last 12 months took place in a foreign country thousands of miles from home...and yet at home within myself.
This was a year of new languages. I learned some Islandic, Hungarian, French, German, Italian, Greek and Cambodian but mostly Nepali. I found that my favorite phrases across all these have to do with making a connection - I learned to say things like "I agree with you" or "I understand" or "I am part of this." And so, I was shown that learning languages for me is about making a connection.
I learned that some of the best adventures come after other plans fall through. The less attached I am, the more free I am to enjoy something different, something better. For example, if my tour through Tibet hadn't been cancelled, I never would have discovered Parahawking!
I learned that things happen best when they are ready. Pushing for something to happen doesn't always create the best possible outcome. This is a lesson in Flow: In Kauai, we had a Mango tree behind the house and every morning I would go out to see what had dropped overnight. Sometimes it was one mango on the ground, sometimes it was seven. Although the mangoes were reachable on the tree, I preferred to pick them up after the tree had released them, finding those were more ripe, more ready to be eaten than those I could pull down from the tree. We can push for things in our lives, but it often works out smoother when we are really ready. I am becoming more and more familiar of what it feels like to be in the flow in life.
I have learned how to sail, and have reveled in the freedom of waking up somewhere off a coast and randomly selecting the next island to journey towards that day. Without a pre-set itinerary, no controlled, laid-out plan, just an intention for fun - absolutely free to explore. (Efcharisto, Dave.)
I learned that I do not like Islandic Goats' Head Jelly but I love Hungarian Pogatcha biscuits and Turo Rudi cheese candy bars. How do you know you don't like it until you try it, right? (Köszönöm, Tunde.)
In yoga, as I hold a pose for several minutes, there gets to be a point where I shake or fidget or get so overwhelmed with the stretch or sensation that I want to get up, get out, bolt, run. It is usually just after that point that the pose really begins and I can bend deeper or the stretch gets yummy. The same is true in life: When it gets uncomfortable, that's the awesome point - because its about to get really good in terms of internal growth. If it is a very uncomfortable situation, I am about to learn something.
(Thanks, Dolly!)
I have learned there is a difference between obligation and love. In my family culture, I was taught that these two are inseparable. For example, in my family there is the unspoken idea of, "If you loved me - you would..." and this creates an obligation. When I do not do what I have been obligated to, I find myself filled with doubt and guilt. Guilt in this form is an attempt to meet others' needs. What a beautiful reminder to meet my own needs first. This year, I have honored myself in not putting myself in unhealthy situations with people, no matter how much I love them. And by meeting my own needs first in this way, I have been more mentally stable and healthy. To let go of the guilt, I remind myself that my needs are just as important as others' needs and I have to choose myself/my needs/ my health first. Believe me, this was not an easy lesson to learn, and it is a big one.
An interesting thing about family culture is that it is a learned pattern of behaviour. Once we are aware that it exists, we can choose to participate. Or, instead we can say, "This ends with me" and create a new pattern. None of it is right or wrong, it is simply what we choose for ourselves.
I have made a new habit: when something I set up goes wrong, instead of getting down on myself, I remember all the things I have done right and then let it go.
I learned that visualisation is the key to changing impossible to possible. If I can see it, I can do it.
In Nepal, Jessica Love taught me how to land a paraglider. This is counter-intuitive - you land into the wind. (Thanks, Jessica!)
I have been a caregiver in my past. And still, when I am close to a friend who is going through a tough situation, my first instinct is to try to fix it for them - I offer advice and work with them to design a plan to remedy things. But this year I have learned that a mature heart can care about someone and step back to see what they have to learn here and watch how they set up a situation to do so. If you fix something for someone, you take away their free will to choose, and if you do the work for them you take away their opportunity to learn. (Thanks, H for helping me learn this one. :)
The things you cherish most should go in your carry on bag and not be checked. Especially when traveling into Cambodia. (Laughing out loud!) And, even these are replaceable. When it comes to physical - It all is.
I have learned how to pitch an article to a paying publication in a format that gets accepted.
This year, I had a series of lessons about letting go of control. I spent a lot of my RTW trip looking for an address, a train station, friends I was supposed to meet, or a hostel. I learned how to have fun even when I am lost - to be joyful even when I am not totally sure/set/in control. A journey doesn't always have a map.
One of the hardest things I have run up against this year is when I do my best and others do not see that. I have learned how to take a deep breath and trust that I have done the best I could and to let it go. It is most important that I know I have done my best because I am the one who has to live with that, not others.
I learned how to make Phillipino Curry. A spicy seafood dish with coconut milk that sometimes turns purple with squid ink. :) (Salamat, Melanie!)
I learned how to talk so a dolphin will respond.
Quickbooks.
That Lake Balaton, Hungary has the greatest fish soup in the world! (Köszönöm, Zoli!)
How to be an efficient purchasing agent.
How, as a wholesale manager, when a client makes a request, they really don't want to hear the details of what you have to do, where you have to go or what you have to rearrange to make that thing happen for them They just want you to say yes. So, say yes, and worry about the details later. (Gracias, Stewart!)
That sturgeon can grow to five feet long! That's a big fish!
That you really can get anything through TSA if you have enough intention. 10 ounces of frosting? No problem.
That the holiday Easter was originally Ishtar, a celebration of the returning of the light (Spring Equinox). And that long before Jesus was even born or heard of, a woman named Ishtar (Lady of the Light) had a pet bunny, and that is where the Easter Bunny figure comes from.
I have been reminded that everyone has a story to tell. And something to teach me.
I learned that children don't need you to give them huge presents, or to teach them something complex, or to build them something. Sometimes the greatest gift of all is to show up and be constant enough for them to trust. (Dhanyabad didi, Poonam.)
I learned what a whale song sounds like underwater: As though someone is whistling in the distance.
That you really can design a life, a day, to be exactly what you want if you ask. This birthday was exactly that.
That friends don't have to speak your language. Language is just one thing you may have in common. Sometimes the deepest connections transcend language.
That although we think that others get how we feel about them - we should actually tell them. I love you, I want you in my life more, you inspire me, I appreciate all you do --None of these are guaranteed to be evident unless you voice it. There is no better time than now to let them know.
(Thanks, Dad.)
How to eat rice and curry and dal with my fingers: Nepali style. The Nepaleese believe that you have a better connection with your food and live healthier this way.
I learned that even train accidents do not have to be dramatic. Even if you were on the train, you can choose to take on the drama, or to let it belong to the others who were actually physically involved. And on that same day - I was reminded that the Universe is looking out for me.
(Thanks, Universe!)
One of the most important things in life is to trust yourself. To trust nature, trust others. Whatever happens, you are going to be okay, you are safe. Coming to a situation with trust can determine the course of its outcome. And I learned just how valuable this concept is when crawling on your belly through a tight cave in the pitch blackness, oh, say, 200 feet underground.
I learned that raptors can see you blink when they are far enough away that you can't see them.
(Thanks, Bob.)
That eating more salt can help raise low blood sugar.
The neatest creature I met this year was a cross between a hummingbird and a butterfly - a hummingbee. I didn't know they even existed until we met face to face. This encounter reminded me of how in 2007, off the ocast of the Galapagos, I saw a manta ray jump several feet into the air and then fall back into the sea like a giant, black heavy kite. Up until that point in my life, I had not clue Manta Rays even existed and yet there it was before me. My point here is that the world can always astound you. If you allow it space, there is always something new to learn. Even when you have studied and traveled and experienced so much, there is always the possibility that something spectacularly new will surprise you.
I have been reminded that those we love, we take with us. No matter the distance between you, when you have known someone in your heart, part of them is always there. It seems daily now that I think of my friends Tunde and Zoli in Hungary, of my guides through the caves of Budapest or over the Islandic moonscape of lava and moss, of sweet Caroline and her lovely family in St. Gallen, of Kristin in the yoga ashram in the mountains of Nepal, and of my much adored 8 year old Poonam in the orphanage of Kathmandu. They are here with me, their story intertwines with my story and my love for them expands me.
(For this I am grateful to so many, especially O.)
I have learned that if I feel moved to do something, I should do it. Do not wait until tomorrow to show someone kindness, they may not be there tomorrow. For example, Billie, the orphanage kitten I sought out food for, and took time to share kindness and peace with may not have lived to see another day. But in that moment, when he was safe in my lap and his belly was not knawing with hunger and he could relax enough to sleep, that moment made a difference. Its like throwing starfish back into the sea - sure, you may not be able to save them all, and perhpas it is not about being able to save them. Its about being moved to do something for others and actually following through. They may die tomorrow. We all die sometime. But if you were able to improve even just one moment for the better for them then yes, it was worth it.
I have learned the coorelation between thermals and living in the flow. Thermals are not something you can map out. Just like going with the flow doesn't always involve having a plan. It is more about feel. When flying a paraglider, you have to wait until you can feel the wind of the thermal on your fingers before you turn in that direction to rise higher. In paragliding, the goal is to fly, not to go somewhere. (Danka, Bernie.)
In Paris, I learned that a place is not what you have heard, what you have been told or even what you remember. If you are open enough, a place can surprise you for the better.
If at first you do not understand, ask, ask again. For example: If the bus driver says something, mumbled in a thick accent, and you don't catch what he said, walk up right then and ask him to repeat it. Ask several times if needed. To understand or to not understand can change the entire course of your journey... And the driver may be less pissed at you if hours later you have missed your stop...
When your address changes every two days, home becomes something inside that travels with you. The rooms change, the beds change, the cities change, but who I am is solid and familiar. In this way, I can feel at home wherever I am. The better you know yourself, the more you can be your own familiar when nothing else is.
And last but not by any means the least important...
Your time is your life. Be aware of how you are spending it.
5.23.2013
Making the Leap From Impossible to Possible
In several yoga classes of throughout the years, I have developed a pattern that I have become aware of this month. It goes like this: I watch the yoga instructor show us a pose, and then show us the advanced variation of the pose. They say something like: "You can balance on one foot and hold your body parallel over the floor or...you can do that AND grab your other foot, pull it over your head and tickle your ear with your toes while wrapping your other arm behind you in a prayer position." At some point, my mind would disengage from what the instructor was saying. I was still watching, but was distanced a little, amazed at what shape was possible with a human body and then I would say something like "Maybe next year" or "Yeah, right!" making light of my belief that there was no way in hell that my body would do that. Ever.
Now I have written before about how careful I am to know my body's limits and not push them to go somewhere that might cause injury. I am speaking about something else entirely when I say that I have limited myself by not even trying new poses (or new things in life) by just declaring that it was impossible.
Impossible. An interesting word. If you give it some belief and a little space, the word can be made into "I'm possible." When we see something as a possibility, we create space to have it happen. And rather you have viewed it as such before or not, space is growth.
I recently fell in love with a very challenging (for me) form of yoga called Vinyasa. It is a fast paced class, with several balance and strength building poses. Basically, you sweat a lot. Or I do. My first Vinyasa class was with a treasured teacher of mine, Dolly Stavros. She was showing us how we could move faster through a sun salutation flow by jumping from a forward bend into a push up and vice versa. And immediately, I zoned out a little saying, "Sure. Maybe next year."
"Why not now?" she asked me.
I had to pause. Gulp. "I don't know, I just have never tried and I don't think I have the strength." A mat length is a long way to lift the rest of your body while balanced on your hands.
"Sure you do!" she coaxed.
Dolly walked me through step by step what to do with my feet to get them from between my hands to extended out in a push up. And yes, it did occur to me a couple of times that I might fall on my stomach.
"Okay now you try it." She said.
I was willing to try.
"Wait," Dolly said, "Before you try, close your eyes and visualize yourself doing it. If you can see it, you can do it."
That's some huge life advice right there. I closed out my doubt by closing my eyes and saw myself leaping backwards, pressing my legs back into space and catching myself on my toes. The first time you attempt something new like that, there is a lot of unknown. And you have got to be comfortable enough with the unknown to try. I could see it, so I mustered up all of my strength and pushed into my hands and it happened! I didn't land on my stomach, I caught myself on my toes in a plank (push up) position and wooped and giggled.
The rest of that class, through many leaps back and forth on my mat, I began to be aware of how many times I had just passed opportunities by writing them off as impossible. If I did it this often in yoga class, how often did it happen in the rest of my life? My practice on the mat was just a tiny refection of the rest of my world. The tiny shift in my perception to consider something as an option for me was actually huge. It was a beautiful reminder of how we limit ourselves by our own thinking. Because I wasn't even willing to go there in my mind at first, there was no way my body could do the pose. It wasn't my body that was limiting me, it was my mind. This relates off the mat as well: it is not the world keeping you from doing something, it is yourself. For whatever reason, we hold ourselves back, we draw the box of how big we can live, how much we can have, how far we can go, how much we can earn, even how much love we can accept. Self imposed limits, all of them. The wonderful thing about self imposed limits is that they can change. With internal work, we can re-set our patterns and our beliefs. Each of us is creating our own reality. And when we accept and embrace this, absolutely anything is possible. We can redirect our thinking, change our conditioning, and turn impossible into I'm possible.
My invitation to you is to examine your self-imposed limits. What is something you want but distance yourself from with the word impossible? If you haven't allowed yourself to visualize it, create space for that. Take time to see what you want happening and imaginaing what that would feel like. At some point when visualizing living bigger, we run up against ourselves putting up obstacles in one form or another. And that's where the work begins. When we find that we aren't comfortable with having our dreams as a reality for some reason and identify that reason. It is our own glass-ceiling. Rather we feel we are not worthy, or someone had told us something about ourselves that we believed that contradicts having what we want now, or perhaps we are not open to change, or we run up against fear, whatever it is - its an opportunity to grow. Be gentle with yourself when you find that thing that holds you back, it's not wrong, it is just one way of thinking that has served you up until now. Self awareness allows us to create another reality by changing our thinking.
"Man often becomes what he believes himself to be. If I keep on saying to myself that I cannot do a certain thing, it is possible that I may end by really becoming incapable of doing it. On the contrary, if I have the belief that I can do it, I shall surely acquire the capacity to do it even if I may not have it at the beginning." - Ghandi
Something like this?
Now I have written before about how careful I am to know my body's limits and not push them to go somewhere that might cause injury. I am speaking about something else entirely when I say that I have limited myself by not even trying new poses (or new things in life) by just declaring that it was impossible.
Impossible. An interesting word. If you give it some belief and a little space, the word can be made into "I'm possible." When we see something as a possibility, we create space to have it happen. And rather you have viewed it as such before or not, space is growth.
I recently fell in love with a very challenging (for me) form of yoga called Vinyasa. It is a fast paced class, with several balance and strength building poses. Basically, you sweat a lot. Or I do. My first Vinyasa class was with a treasured teacher of mine, Dolly Stavros. She was showing us how we could move faster through a sun salutation flow by jumping from a forward bend into a push up and vice versa. And immediately, I zoned out a little saying, "Sure. Maybe next year."
"Why not now?" she asked me.
I had to pause. Gulp. "I don't know, I just have never tried and I don't think I have the strength." A mat length is a long way to lift the rest of your body while balanced on your hands.
"Sure you do!" she coaxed.
Dolly walked me through step by step what to do with my feet to get them from between my hands to extended out in a push up. And yes, it did occur to me a couple of times that I might fall on my stomach.
"Okay now you try it." She said.
I was willing to try.
"Wait," Dolly said, "Before you try, close your eyes and visualize yourself doing it. If you can see it, you can do it."
That's some huge life advice right there. I closed out my doubt by closing my eyes and saw myself leaping backwards, pressing my legs back into space and catching myself on my toes. The first time you attempt something new like that, there is a lot of unknown. And you have got to be comfortable enough with the unknown to try. I could see it, so I mustered up all of my strength and pushed into my hands and it happened! I didn't land on my stomach, I caught myself on my toes in a plank (push up) position and wooped and giggled.
The rest of that class, through many leaps back and forth on my mat, I began to be aware of how many times I had just passed opportunities by writing them off as impossible. If I did it this often in yoga class, how often did it happen in the rest of my life? My practice on the mat was just a tiny refection of the rest of my world. The tiny shift in my perception to consider something as an option for me was actually huge. It was a beautiful reminder of how we limit ourselves by our own thinking. Because I wasn't even willing to go there in my mind at first, there was no way my body could do the pose. It wasn't my body that was limiting me, it was my mind. This relates off the mat as well: it is not the world keeping you from doing something, it is yourself. For whatever reason, we hold ourselves back, we draw the box of how big we can live, how much we can have, how far we can go, how much we can earn, even how much love we can accept. Self imposed limits, all of them. The wonderful thing about self imposed limits is that they can change. With internal work, we can re-set our patterns and our beliefs. Each of us is creating our own reality. And when we accept and embrace this, absolutely anything is possible. We can redirect our thinking, change our conditioning, and turn impossible into I'm possible.
5.08.2013
Life Lessons on Letting Go: Staying Within Your Own Boat
This month, my boyfriend and I are beginning the downsizing of our entire home and moving it over 2,000 miles away. Several life lessons have been brought up for me recently about letting go, about the things we collect vs. the things we really need and of course about how home is more inside me than in any house or furnishings that decorate a house. This week, there are so many details to consider, and so many unknowns. I would like to take just one of those life lessons to extrapolate upon and share: Letting go.
One of my favorite stories of the Olympics comes from sportscaster Charlie Jones who interviewed the athletes of professional rowing teams before and after the competition. The questions he asked them ranged from: what do you do when the other team is pulling ahead of you, what do you do when you break an oar, or when the winds are howling gale force against you? To Charlie’s surprise, several of the athletes had the same response to different questions. They told him simply, “That’s outside of my boat.”
After receiving identical answers, Charlie asked a rower to explain what they meant by “that‘s outside of my boat.” The rowing team had been trained to diligently stay focused on the task at hand, to their immediate surroundings and to put their energy only on the things they could control - within their boats. They had realized that thinking about what was outside of their boat only distracted them from their goal, and “that which is beyond our control is not worth our time or energy.”
The professional rowers of the Olympics are not in the competition thinking about the choppiness of the water, or rather the crowd is watching or how fast the other team is or the varying rates on their home loan or if the cost of gas will go up in the middle of summer. Every ounce of their energy is honed into the present moment and each row stroke they are making. And does it work for them? As successful athletes, they won enough races and became fast enough to compete in the Olympics. You tell me.
This story made me think about my own life and how much I often worry about things that are outside of my boat. And I understand more and more that in order to feel effective in my life, I have to choose to spend my energy on things that I can control. Because I want things to go well for others, I often am giving advice or wondering the best way they should approach a problem. And yet, no matter how caring I am, I simply cannot row their boat when I am sitting in mine. I have no affect whatsoever on which direction their boat goes.
To me, following news stories is very much the same concept. If I get caught up in a horrible violent event that happened, and spend most of my spare time dwelling on how awful it was for the individuals and families involved, I am not watching where my own boat is headed, and the energy I may have had to plan where my journey might go next has already been spent. If we spend our lives in other’s stories, we end up half living their lives while not truly living our own. Worrying, dwelling and staying in the stories of others doesn’t really help them, and doesn’t solve anything for them. That’s an area where I am always going to feel helpless. So why go there?
I don’t watch the news because I choose to stay out of the drama of strangers, and because I don’t want that helpless feeling. (I also find it overwhelmingly negative and disturbing.) Instead, I save my time for my friends and family and the people in my community - the people I can really know, work well with and make a difference for. I can’t help captives, I can’t find missing people, but I can take the grocery cart back for the little old lady next to me in the parking lot. I can slow down on the road to let the person who has been waiting to turn have space in front of me. I can make the baby in the grocery line laugh, I can treat my friend to lunch and I can hug the regular customer in the café whose loneliness might border bitterness without touch. I can volunteer to help a friend move, or share my lunch with a hungry co-worker. There are so many ways for me to interact with my fellow rowers - the people in my little circle where I have the power to make a difference.
This story also made me reflect on how I am getting better at letting past events stay in the past where they belong. When I have a hard week at work, or when I have had a disagreement with others, my mind tends to return to that and go over the situation several times. Even when I have closure over it. When really, that uncomfortable situation is in the past, so why would I choose to make the present uncomfortable by rehashing it? And I am not aware of any kayaker, sailor or Olympic rowing team that could paddle forward while looking behind them. As a white water paddler, out on the river, the minute I look behind me in a rapid, its over. I stop going where I want to, stop moving forward altogether and usually loose control of my boat and end up wet. Using this analogy helps me see that thinking about the past really doesn’t help me move forward and that by doing so, I loose my control over the present moment.
I invite you to reflect on the “Its outside of my boat” concept as well. Are there areas in your life that you spend your time an energy outside of your boat - focusing on things that you cannot control? Are you familiar with the limits of your own boat, and how could you get more involved with the others in your community?
Charlie’s story of the Olympic Rowing Team is an inspiration to me to let go of trying to control things outside of my boat, to stay present, keep calm, keep moving forward and enjoy the experience.
One of my favorite stories of the Olympics comes from sportscaster Charlie Jones who interviewed the athletes of professional rowing teams before and after the competition. The questions he asked them ranged from: what do you do when the other team is pulling ahead of you, what do you do when you break an oar, or when the winds are howling gale force against you? To Charlie’s surprise, several of the athletes had the same response to different questions. They told him simply, “That’s outside of my boat.”
After receiving identical answers, Charlie asked a rower to explain what they meant by “that‘s outside of my boat.” The rowing team had been trained to diligently stay focused on the task at hand, to their immediate surroundings and to put their energy only on the things they could control - within their boats. They had realized that thinking about what was outside of their boat only distracted them from their goal, and “that which is beyond our control is not worth our time or energy.”
The professional rowers of the Olympics are not in the competition thinking about the choppiness of the water, or rather the crowd is watching or how fast the other team is or the varying rates on their home loan or if the cost of gas will go up in the middle of summer. Every ounce of their energy is honed into the present moment and each row stroke they are making. And does it work for them? As successful athletes, they won enough races and became fast enough to compete in the Olympics. You tell me.
This story made me think about my own life and how much I often worry about things that are outside of my boat. And I understand more and more that in order to feel effective in my life, I have to choose to spend my energy on things that I can control. Because I want things to go well for others, I often am giving advice or wondering the best way they should approach a problem. And yet, no matter how caring I am, I simply cannot row their boat when I am sitting in mine. I have no affect whatsoever on which direction their boat goes.
To me, following news stories is very much the same concept. If I get caught up in a horrible violent event that happened, and spend most of my spare time dwelling on how awful it was for the individuals and families involved, I am not watching where my own boat is headed, and the energy I may have had to plan where my journey might go next has already been spent. If we spend our lives in other’s stories, we end up half living their lives while not truly living our own. Worrying, dwelling and staying in the stories of others doesn’t really help them, and doesn’t solve anything for them. That’s an area where I am always going to feel helpless. So why go there?
I don’t watch the news because I choose to stay out of the drama of strangers, and because I don’t want that helpless feeling. (I also find it overwhelmingly negative and disturbing.) Instead, I save my time for my friends and family and the people in my community - the people I can really know, work well with and make a difference for. I can’t help captives, I can’t find missing people, but I can take the grocery cart back for the little old lady next to me in the parking lot. I can slow down on the road to let the person who has been waiting to turn have space in front of me. I can make the baby in the grocery line laugh, I can treat my friend to lunch and I can hug the regular customer in the café whose loneliness might border bitterness without touch. I can volunteer to help a friend move, or share my lunch with a hungry co-worker. There are so many ways for me to interact with my fellow rowers - the people in my little circle where I have the power to make a difference.
This story also made me reflect on how I am getting better at letting past events stay in the past where they belong. When I have a hard week at work, or when I have had a disagreement with others, my mind tends to return to that and go over the situation several times. Even when I have closure over it. When really, that uncomfortable situation is in the past, so why would I choose to make the present uncomfortable by rehashing it? And I am not aware of any kayaker, sailor or Olympic rowing team that could paddle forward while looking behind them. As a white water paddler, out on the river, the minute I look behind me in a rapid, its over. I stop going where I want to, stop moving forward altogether and usually loose control of my boat and end up wet. Using this analogy helps me see that thinking about the past really doesn’t help me move forward and that by doing so, I loose my control over the present moment.
I invite you to reflect on the “Its outside of my boat” concept as well. Are there areas in your life that you spend your time an energy outside of your boat - focusing on things that you cannot control? Are you familiar with the limits of your own boat, and how could you get more involved with the others in your community?
Charlie’s story of the Olympic Rowing Team is an inspiration to me to let go of trying to control things outside of my boat, to stay present, keep calm, keep moving forward and enjoy the experience.
7.19.2012
Don't Worry (and You'll) Be Happy
I believe that worry is something that our society teaches us. And within every concept we are taught is the ability to re-learn or unlearn it. Worry is taught to be synomonous with caring about something. I feel that when someone worries about a situation, at the core of it, they want the situation to go well. The issue is of course, that they worry about how many ways the situation could go wrong because they want it to go well. It feels like an oxymoron to me.
Worry often has to do with the inability to accept uncertainty. We want to be absolutely certain about what is going to happen. But sometimes life surprises us. The interesting thing about uncertainty is that it could go either way - the likelihood of it turning out perfectly is just as possible as it turning out poorly. However, worrying about how many things could go wrong doesn’t make the situation more predictable. It ends up being hours of lost time in a negative mindset. And a negative mindset doesn’t help the situation at all, it sends negative energy towards the outcome. Focusing on the worst-case scenarios doesn’t keep you safe from bad things happening, it just takes you away from the good things happening in the present moment. An excellent mantra to help with this is: “I don’t know how it is going to turn out, I just know it is all going to work.”
This has come up lately because in the next two weeks I am going to board a plane by myself for the great wide open unknown. A dear friend of mine recently hugged me and said “Don’t do anything that would make me go crazy, okay? I know you will be fine, but I worry about you.” Later she lay awake thinking about why the energy of what she had said didn’t feel right to her. I am delighted that we had a chance to talk it through the next morning. I got that her worry was not creating a story of what might go wrong for me, but rather understood that in the core of her statement was the fact that she cared about me.
Is it possible to love someone and not worry about them when they take a big step into the unknown? What would the other options be? How about loving someone and supporting the best for them by thinking to yourself how it will go well for them, and thinking of all the ways it could turn out just right. This is the opposite of how we have been trained to think. And yet, the energy of it is so much more supportive.
My favorite metaphor for this is: Imagine you are sitting in a chair in a room and everyone you know and love are standing in front of you making eye contact. You see all of your family, your friends, your loved ones in this room. And they tell you just how worried they are about you. They are not sure about your decision. They are concerned for you. Their eyes are filled with worry and the room is heavy with the weight of doubt and anxiety. What an uncomfortable chair to be in!
Now imagine the same situation. You are sitting in a chair in that same room, but this time all these people you know are telling you “You can do it!” and “I don’t know how this is going to turn out, but we believe in you. You can handle this.” and “I know you and I trust you will make the right choice.” The energy in the room is completely different: positive, uplifting, loving.
We can give the people we love either the feeling of anxiety or of being supported when we think of them, and when we talk to them about their dreams, about the risks they are taking.
It is possible to separate love from worry. “I love you and support you.” feels completely different from “I am so worried about you.“ Consider this before responding.
Worry doesn’t accomplish anything other than making your heart and your mind sick. And it certainly isn’t supporting those we love when we are worrying about them.
The next time your response is worry, try playing the game of how many different ways it could go right instead. Don’t treat every negative thought as though it were a fact.
Uncertainty doesn’t automatically mean bad things will happen. Accept that uncertainty is part of life and remind yourself that it could always go better than you could even think of. Acknowledge that you have anxious thoughts, and that it is okay to let your worry go.
Instead of dwelling on possible futures, stay present in the moment and look for the things that there are to appreciate right now.
As for me, time to get out of that chair, get out of that room and get on a jet plane.
7.17.2012
The Longest Hour of The Day - OR - How I Learned You Can Breathe Through Anything
Within each of us is the deep center of peace. No matter what happens, I trust that I am going to be okay. Even at times when I have been playing big in extreme sports and I get that this may be it, this may be my last moment, somehow instead of panic, I have a deep calm and I am fine with whatever comes. Even at times that I have been so very sad about an ending, and have cried it all out on the couch in front of some sappy chick flick, after the tears comes a sense of peace and I know I am going to be okay. This deep “okay-ness” this sense of clam and security is always there. Even through emotional, mental, physical turmoil, we can still connect to the calm center of our being and know we will be okay.
I went to a Hatha yoga class this morning at a studio I have never been to before. I squeezed my mat in between the tan tattoo girl and the guy in a tie-dye t-shirt facing a row of large windows with sheer red curtains. The teacher began with a theme about how it is possible to breathe through anything. Silently I agreed with her, yoga taught me that valuable lesson years ago. “With that in mind,” she said, “We are going to test the limits of what we can breathe through today with some intense core engaging poses.” My mind groaned. I may have chosen the wrong class. Oh well, I could breathe through it and how long could an hour and a half be anyway?
We started with Downward Dog, going into a balance pose on one leg and one arm. Then we drew the extended leg and arm in again and again, and yes, my core was engaged in a healthy tremble. There was a click and a rush of air. The room was very warm already, so I accepted this to be the sound of the air conditioner engaging and followed the class into a yoga pushup series. Then it became uncomfortably warm.
“I wonder,” said the instructor, “Did the heater just go on? I think it is 80 in here already. She left us in handstand and went out to see if she could turn off the heater. I breathed into my hands and shoulders. The heat was okay, the heat would be ending soon. The door clicked and our instructor walked by.
“Well, That’s odd. Apparently the heater is stuck on.” she said, casually dismissing it. “Oh, you can come down now.”
We moved into Frog pose. The temperature was uncomfortably warm and rising. A couple minutes into it, my thighs were screaming. I wanted out. But instead of backing out of the pose, I held my ground and breathed into the sensation. My mind teetered on the edge of panic partly because of the heat and mostly because my legs felt like they might rip off and be served with butter and garlic any minute.
Tie-dye tee guy was having trouble. Through his legs I could see the sweat drip off his nose and form a puddle. The heater was still on. A hot wind blew over both of us. The room felt very small. I took a deep inhale that ended in a sigh and remembered that this was only an hour. This was a very small portion of my life. And Frog pose had to only be another two minutes (I hoped!) of my life. Knowing that this moment, and this overwhelming sensation was just temporary brought me a sense of peace. The instructor took a deep breath in. I anticipated her releasing us from the agony. “Just another three minutes to go. You are doing great. Keep breathing through it”
Three minutes? My body feels like hell after just one minute and we have three minutes more to go? I might die! Death by scorched frog pose. That will be an interesting obituary to read: Girl dies of burnt frog legs.
I checked on Tie-dye guy. Yes, another minute and his lake of sweat would form a river. I hoped to God the yoga floor was not sloped and we would have no runaway rivers headed my way. I had better breathe into the pose now and enjoy breathing while I could, before I drowned in that river.
“Okay, gently use your hands to bring your legs back in.” My legs were so sore. I was surprised they didn’t creak as I drew them together. They weren’t going to speak to me for at least five minutes, if not days.
As we moved into Downward Dog and Plank, I considered asking the instructor to check the heater again. How could she be so causal about this? Oh well, the heater will just blare and bake us the entire class?! I regretted laying my stinky-feet-mat down next to that white grate. How did I miss that was a heating vent? My core was shaking like an earthquake in a tropical place. Another few degrees warmer and giant leaves might sprout from the walls and we would all have to fend off huge tropical insects.
I don’t do the heated Bikram Yoga classes exercising while being too hot has never appealed to me. I tend to get heatstroke in those situations. And now, in Plank, I could feel my cheeks flushing. My hair stuck to my face. My pulse quickened, but perhaps that was less from heatstroke and more from the effort of holding my body hovering over the mat in the pose.
I no longer liked the curtains I was facing. They were red decorations on the edges of an inferno. Couldn’t the studio have chosen a cooling color? What’s wrong with blue?
I peeked over at Tie-dye guy. Apparently men have sweat ducts on their elbows. Wow, you learn something new every day.
“Okay class. Lower through Chataranga to Cobra, and now down to your mat.”
Great. Face down in stinky feet. The heat seemed to accentuate the smell, or maybe that was the general body odor scent the room was developing. However, I was so grateful to just be laying still, no matter how sticky, no matter how stinky, just to be calm here and do nothing but release. It was then that I remembered, it was all okay. Inside this ungodly hot, smelly tropical oasis of effort, there was a sense of release. I still wanted to run to the bathroom and wash my face in cool water, but I knew I didn’t need to just yet. I wanted to move to a corner far away from the heating vent, but I didn’t need to. I wanted to walk past the instructor and go take a look at that heater gage myself, but I didn’t need to control it. Beneath my odor mat, my island from the widening lake of sweat from tie-dye guy, the floor was cool. We rolled over to Shivasana, and I fully relaxed. I was able to lay still. More still than I had been in weeks while remaining awake. I left Tie-dye guy in his lake and came back to my own mat, my own body and my own calm center and it was all okay. As difficult as it was, I brought my mind back to the present moment, back to my body, back to my own mat, my own practice. I studied the texture of the yoga mat below me. A borrowed mat. How many others had died here on this mat? This mat that smelled of feet. Stinky yoga toes.
I went to a Hatha yoga class this morning at a studio I have never been to before. I squeezed my mat in between the tan tattoo girl and the guy in a tie-dye t-shirt facing a row of large windows with sheer red curtains. The teacher began with a theme about how it is possible to breathe through anything. Silently I agreed with her, yoga taught me that valuable lesson years ago. “With that in mind,” she said, “We are going to test the limits of what we can breathe through today with some intense core engaging poses.” My mind groaned. I may have chosen the wrong class. Oh well, I could breathe through it and how long could an hour and a half be anyway?
We started with Downward Dog, going into a balance pose on one leg and one arm. Then we drew the extended leg and arm in again and again, and yes, my core was engaged in a healthy tremble. There was a click and a rush of air. The room was very warm already, so I accepted this to be the sound of the air conditioner engaging and followed the class into a yoga pushup series. Then it became uncomfortably warm.
“I wonder,” said the instructor, “Did the heater just go on? I think it is 80 in here already. She left us in handstand and went out to see if she could turn off the heater. I breathed into my hands and shoulders. The heat was okay, the heat would be ending soon. The door clicked and our instructor walked by.
“Well, That’s odd. Apparently the heater is stuck on.” she said, casually dismissing it. “Oh, you can come down now.”
We moved into Frog pose. The temperature was uncomfortably warm and rising. A couple minutes into it, my thighs were screaming. I wanted out. But instead of backing out of the pose, I held my ground and breathed into the sensation. My mind teetered on the edge of panic partly because of the heat and mostly because my legs felt like they might rip off and be served with butter and garlic any minute.
Tie-dye tee guy was having trouble. Through his legs I could see the sweat drip off his nose and form a puddle. The heater was still on. A hot wind blew over both of us. The room felt very small. I took a deep inhale that ended in a sigh and remembered that this was only an hour. This was a very small portion of my life. And Frog pose had to only be another two minutes (I hoped!) of my life. Knowing that this moment, and this overwhelming sensation was just temporary brought me a sense of peace. The instructor took a deep breath in. I anticipated her releasing us from the agony. “Just another three minutes to go. You are doing great. Keep breathing through it”
Three minutes? My body feels like hell after just one minute and we have three minutes more to go? I might die! Death by scorched frog pose. That will be an interesting obituary to read: Girl dies of burnt frog legs.
I checked on Tie-dye guy. Yes, another minute and his lake of sweat would form a river. I hoped to God the yoga floor was not sloped and we would have no runaway rivers headed my way. I had better breathe into the pose now and enjoy breathing while I could, before I drowned in that river.
“Okay, gently use your hands to bring your legs back in.” My legs were so sore. I was surprised they didn’t creak as I drew them together. They weren’t going to speak to me for at least five minutes, if not days.
As we moved into Downward Dog and Plank, I considered asking the instructor to check the heater again. How could she be so causal about this? Oh well, the heater will just blare and bake us the entire class?! I regretted laying my stinky-feet-mat down next to that white grate. How did I miss that was a heating vent? My core was shaking like an earthquake in a tropical place. Another few degrees warmer and giant leaves might sprout from the walls and we would all have to fend off huge tropical insects.
I don’t do the heated Bikram Yoga classes exercising while being too hot has never appealed to me. I tend to get heatstroke in those situations. And now, in Plank, I could feel my cheeks flushing. My hair stuck to my face. My pulse quickened, but perhaps that was less from heatstroke and more from the effort of holding my body hovering over the mat in the pose.
I no longer liked the curtains I was facing. They were red decorations on the edges of an inferno. Couldn’t the studio have chosen a cooling color? What’s wrong with blue?
I peeked over at Tie-dye guy. Apparently men have sweat ducts on their elbows. Wow, you learn something new every day.
“Okay class. Lower through Chataranga to Cobra, and now down to your mat.”
Great. Face down in stinky feet. The heat seemed to accentuate the smell, or maybe that was the general body odor scent the room was developing. However, I was so grateful to just be laying still, no matter how sticky, no matter how stinky, just to be calm here and do nothing but release. It was then that I remembered, it was all okay. Inside this ungodly hot, smelly tropical oasis of effort, there was a sense of release. I still wanted to run to the bathroom and wash my face in cool water, but I knew I didn’t need to just yet. I wanted to move to a corner far away from the heating vent, but I didn’t need to. I wanted to walk past the instructor and go take a look at that heater gage myself, but I didn’t need to control it. Beneath my odor mat, my island from the widening lake of sweat from tie-dye guy, the floor was cool. We rolled over to Shivasana, and I fully relaxed. I was able to lay still. More still than I had been in weeks while remaining awake. I left Tie-dye guy in his lake and came back to my own mat, my own body and my own calm center and it was all okay. As difficult as it was, I brought my mind back to the present moment, back to my body, back to my own mat, my own practice. I studied the texture of the yoga mat below me. A borrowed mat. How many others had died here on this mat? This mat that smelled of feet. Stinky yoga toes.
7.07.2012
Life Lessons 2012
Every year, around this time, I reflect on the year gone by and look at what I have learned. It has been a wonderful year with many valuable lessons, some large, some small. Again, my disclaimer is the same as it is every year: These things I list here are true for me. They may not be true for you. My intention is only to share.
I have learned that:
There is a difference between knowing something because you read it on Wikipedia, and knowledge gained from experience. What if there was no Wikipedia, no encyclopedia and all that we learned was first hand? We would know nothing of wars on the other side of the world, conflicts in other cities between people who speak other languages, or random facts about reptiles in the Amazon. We would know more about the places we have been to, more about the things that affect the people we know and love. It would be like the world without the drama of the media and the news. Interesting.
I have learned that I can have more fun in the present if I am not attached to an outcome. Like going fishing with a 5 year old: you can sit in the dirt and eat lunch first and you are not fishing but you are enjoying strawberries and paying attention to when you have reached a full point. You may skip rocks across the surface above the fish, and you are not fishing, you are playing. You may be untangling a huge chaos of fishing line for the better part of an hour, but you are not fishing, you are solving a puzzle. You may be chasing butterflies around the pond and you are not fishing, but you are having fun. If I was attached to only going fishing and catching fish, my focus would have been distracted during the other activities and I would have missed the special little person I shared the day with, the play, the fun, the ripe strawberries along the way.
I have learned how to make Risotto, (Italian sticky rice) the slow and attentive way with constant stirring for 45 minutes. You can not multitask in the kitchen when making risotto. You cannot talk on the phone when making risotto. You cannot leave the kitchen when making risotto. And this, I find, is a great change in how I cook. Being in one place and focusing on one thing, mmm, delicious. Yes, risotto helps me be in the present moment. I am hereby re-naming it Present Moment Rice.
I have learned the importance of saying “best possible” instead of “could have been worse.” When things were going wrong in the past, I used to cheer myself up by saying, “Well, things could always be worse.” Now I cringe when I hear someone say that because I know that the biggest part that sticks out of that sentence is the term “worse,” and all the Universe hears is “worse,” and all you are drawing to yourself is “worse than this.” When you say, “well, if that was going to happen, this seems to have been the best possible outcome” you are putting out an entire different frequency.
I have learned that Rufus Hummingbirds are territorial. They will not share their feeder with anyone else. Even when they are full and don’t want any, they will sit close by the feeding spot and chase off other birds or hummingfriends who would like to share the sweetness. I have dated guys like that. Anyhow, the way to solve this is to have two feeders and hang them on opposite sides of the house. Rufus cannot attack those he cannot see, and other birds can get a sip in while he is feeding on the other side.
I have learned that I am allergic to Wheat, Milk and Potatoes. Knowing this and adjusting my diet has made by body much happier.
I have learned what my energy feels like without any additives. I have learned that coffee gives me adrenaline energy. That’s fun at work, but when I get home, I am drained, having given too much, worked too hard, been over the top with my energy projection. What I am trying to say is that 32 ounces of caffeine in the morning makes me crazy uppity at first, but sleepy and lethargic by 3pm. I do much better on 12 ounces of coffee a day.
I have learned to be careful with my energy. To know how much I have, to be realistic about what I can do in one day. I used to be a multi-tasker to a fault. It is okay to do less. It is okay to say NO to some things so I can show up 100 percent to other things. This is energy management.
I have also learned a lot about time management. Last year I worked three part-time jobs. My hours off from Job 1 were filled with Job 2, occasionally followed by Job 3. This led to 14 hour workdays, less than one day off per week and a consistently drained Sara. Much of this had to do with my relationship with money, I felt I needed to work every day of the week to have enough. This year I tried something different. I picked only one job and asked for full time with continguous days off. The income of this one job was the same as all three jobs combined and I actually had time to do the things I loved to do.
Part of time management was making myself a priority. I carefully considered new opportunities before saying yes. Even if they were opportunities for fun things, play things, new hobbies, etc. I would first ask myself, am I taking on too much? How much time will this new thing ask of me? Does this feed me or drain me? Would doing this be important a year from now?
I have learned that balance always involves movement. Balance takes a particular amount of engagement and planning, and a certain amount of gentle release as well. I find in life, I balance best if I am not tightly wound, tightly attached to outcome, trying to pack too many things in at once, or pushing for something against the flow.
I have learned that a yoga practice needs to have focus on alignment for me to not feel like I have pulled a muscle afterwards. In knowing this, I have switched yoga studios from Hatha to Anusara Yoga and it is back to being a healthy practice without pain.
I have learned that change in temperature creates wind. And I have felt this phenomena first hand in a tiny aircraft 1,000 feet above the earth.
I have learned that the little plant Plantain with its wide oval shapped leaves and sinuous veins is an extractant. If you have a bee sting or a sliver you cannot remove, creating a poltice from crushed Plantain leaves will help purge the foreign article. I will also soothe the sting.
I have learned how to write query letters to magazines. A query letter is a short letter telling the editor of a magazine or website about a great topic they need to feature and why I am just the author they want to write it.
I have learned that the red oblong tropical Mountain Apples taste a lot like pears and they make a great snack after surfing.
I have learned that salted caramel bars make the best S’mores.
I have learned that there is a simple magic in knowing that you are cared about.
I have had the beautiful reminder to never assume. I never really know what people have gone through, or what they are dealing with. It is not that the nit-picky ones, the grumpy ones are simply mean hearted. We are all human, dealing with the complexities and death and birth and change that life sends our way. Difficulty, loss, struggle, these are all situations that cause us to naturally stress, tighten up, retreat within and become short with others. The opportunities to change my thinking and assume less are everywhere if I am open to them. The closed fist cannot shake hands, cannot receive. The closed mind cannot perceive another‘s humanness. The closed heart cannot receive love.
I have learned that two people can be in the same place, but be having completely different experiences. We are all choosing the nature of our experience. I do not have to allow the experience other people are having dictate my own. I can refrain from picking up the expectations of others, or their fears. I don’t have to agree and adopt how they say it will be, and I can differentiate that is how it will be for them and allow them their own experience.
I have been reminded that all we ever have is here and now. People are living and dying every day. We never know how long we have the people who are so special to us in our world.
I am reminded that most people don’t know how you feel about them until you tell them. I understand that some choose to not say I love you over and over because they fear it will get worn out and mean less. I disagree. Remind people that you love them because they might not be here tomorrow. You may not be here tomorrow. Share time and love and appreciation now while you have got it.
I have been to Kauai 7 times, but just this year I learned that there is a pod of dolphins off the coast. They are spinner dolphins and its exhilarating to see them from a stand up paddle board.
I have learned that its best to communicate to your surfing or paddling buddy that you are done and heading in before you paddle in and get out of the water alone.
I have figured out why Americans want to move to Costa Rica. Will I be one of them, possibly…we shall just have to see.
I have learned how to take care of my own needs. After a few years of practice, I have become quite efficient at this, which is remarkable. However, this year I learned that the extreme of this trait can step on someone else’s wants. In order to have balance, I need to allow others the same space to communicate their needs as I take to communicate my own.
Last year I learned how to so latte art with hearts and leaves. This year, I have taken it to a whole new level. Using espresso, milk and chocolate, I have made faces, elephants, mountains, lizards, butterflies, monkeys, giraffes, an octopus, a hummingbird, a unicorn, mermaids and kayakers on the tops of coffee drinks to add a little love and creativity into my customers’ day.
Have you ever been in a tropical place and noticed that there is rice in the salt shakers? This is to help prevent the salt from sticking together in a block when exposed to the moisture of humidity. This year I learned that when you drop your camera in the river while fishing with a 5 year old, if you put the camera in a bag of rice and leave it alone for 24 hours, it dries out and works just fine!
I have come to the realization that others will show up how they show up and I cannot control that. At first, I had a difficult time with people who do not behave like I do at the workplace. People who only do the bare minimum. That is of course, their choice, but it affects my day by creating more work for me to do. I went through a period of being upset with these people. But then, I understood that is how they show up, and I reached the point where I could just have a good laugh about it and move forward. I found that if I got to work ten minutes early, I could finish their job and then begin my own. I think this is rather similar to parenting. Remember when you used to resent your parents for doing things to you as a kid? And when upset and frustrated, you would vow to yourself, “I am never going to put my kids through that.” The only control you had over the situation was to not do the same thing as a parent yourself.
I find it is similar here. I can do everything expected of me in the workplace. I can sweep and mop, not leave broken pint glasses in the drains, remake chocolate when I use the last of it and help stock things for the next person because that is the only control I have - I get to control how I show up, (not how they show up) and how much I give to the job.
I have caught myself being polite and nice and saying things like, “I am sorry, I can’t do that.” I found that I used to say I am sorry, even when I was not, just to be polite. Doing this is like a tiny white lie. It is being inauthentic. Striving to be authentic, I have learned to be honest about what I can do and what I cannot do but only apologize when I am truly sorry. The same goes for when someone says or does something that hurts me, I don’t step over my feelings and say “Oh that’s okay.” Instead, I tell them how I feel so we can heal it before moving forward. And I do not excuse actions that hurt me just so the other person will not be in an awkward place.
Along the same lines, I have learned that when someone says something that I am hurt by, I often take it the wrong way and make up a story about what they might mean by their comment and I take it personally. In the past, I would just leave. A couple of relationships of mine have ended because of something the other person said that I took in this manner. Then I learned to ask, “Is this what you mean by that comment, because this is how I took it…” And this year, I learned another tool around this.
If I say, “In my head, I am making up a story that you meant….” Then they have a chance to change the story and correct me. Wording things this way makes it even less accusatory and allows the conversation to remain on a level playing field instead of defensive and offensive. Nine times out of ten, that person did not mean what I thought they meant. Often it is a miscommunication and I get the opportunity to let go of my story and replace it with their true intention. I find it incredible that miscommunications used to end my relationships and now that I have more skills and tools these are just things that happen that we both move forward from in a loving way.
In a yoga retreat this year, I learned how to meditate. How to still my mind and sit without thinking.
I have learned that if you want others to support your cause, you need to support theirs also. Generosity often inspires others to give also.
There really is no sense in waiting to do the things you was to do. You don’t have to be the best, the fastest, the strongest or the most flexible. You just have to show up and be authentic. When you are connected to who you really are, you have a greater chance of connecting with others.
If we wait to be better than we are now, opportunities for things we want will continue to pass us by. When we are convincing ourselves we need a different set of circumstances in order to have what we want, we are not fully accepting who we are in this moment. The truth is, you are always capable of having what you want.
And now, after all this reflection about what I have learned, I ask myself, where would my energy be best spent in the coming year? Well, physically, that will be out in the world, beyond the borders of the United States - exploring 16 or more different countries and returning to some favorite hangouts. My energy would be best spent being awake, engaged, connecting with other cultures and ecosystems and of course, playing BIG on this journey.
I would like to devote energy to being a luxuriously paid travel writer.
I would like to work on securing the eternity of the present moment. Somehow I see being present, being awake in this moment as something so important that I have continued to remind myself of it year after year. This summer, I met a monk in orange robes under a banyan tree. I asked him how to secure the eternity of the present moment. He said it involves looking at what you are concerned about. Worried about the future, or dwelling on the past. Make peace with these things so you do not have to carry them into the present moment. If you are worried about something that might happen, come back to a mantra, for example: “All Is Well Right Now.” Use the mantra as often as needed, gently pulling yourself in to the present. And practice, practice, practice.
Perhaps securing the eternity of the present moment is part of what made this monk a guru. But what do I want out of it? A deeper experience, a more focused, whole and energetically available self in this moment. A more vibrant life, and a calm mind. Mindfulness, wholeness, peace.
I have learned that:
There is a difference between knowing something because you read it on Wikipedia, and knowledge gained from experience. What if there was no Wikipedia, no encyclopedia and all that we learned was first hand? We would know nothing of wars on the other side of the world, conflicts in other cities between people who speak other languages, or random facts about reptiles in the Amazon. We would know more about the places we have been to, more about the things that affect the people we know and love. It would be like the world without the drama of the media and the news. Interesting.
I have learned that I can have more fun in the present if I am not attached to an outcome. Like going fishing with a 5 year old: you can sit in the dirt and eat lunch first and you are not fishing but you are enjoying strawberries and paying attention to when you have reached a full point. You may skip rocks across the surface above the fish, and you are not fishing, you are playing. You may be untangling a huge chaos of fishing line for the better part of an hour, but you are not fishing, you are solving a puzzle. You may be chasing butterflies around the pond and you are not fishing, but you are having fun. If I was attached to only going fishing and catching fish, my focus would have been distracted during the other activities and I would have missed the special little person I shared the day with, the play, the fun, the ripe strawberries along the way.
I have learned how to make Risotto, (Italian sticky rice) the slow and attentive way with constant stirring for 45 minutes. You can not multitask in the kitchen when making risotto. You cannot talk on the phone when making risotto. You cannot leave the kitchen when making risotto. And this, I find, is a great change in how I cook. Being in one place and focusing on one thing, mmm, delicious. Yes, risotto helps me be in the present moment. I am hereby re-naming it Present Moment Rice.
I have learned the importance of saying “best possible” instead of “could have been worse.” When things were going wrong in the past, I used to cheer myself up by saying, “Well, things could always be worse.” Now I cringe when I hear someone say that because I know that the biggest part that sticks out of that sentence is the term “worse,” and all the Universe hears is “worse,” and all you are drawing to yourself is “worse than this.” When you say, “well, if that was going to happen, this seems to have been the best possible outcome” you are putting out an entire different frequency.
I have learned that Rufus Hummingbirds are territorial. They will not share their feeder with anyone else. Even when they are full and don’t want any, they will sit close by the feeding spot and chase off other birds or hummingfriends who would like to share the sweetness. I have dated guys like that. Anyhow, the way to solve this is to have two feeders and hang them on opposite sides of the house. Rufus cannot attack those he cannot see, and other birds can get a sip in while he is feeding on the other side.
I have learned that I am allergic to Wheat, Milk and Potatoes. Knowing this and adjusting my diet has made by body much happier.
I have learned what my energy feels like without any additives. I have learned that coffee gives me adrenaline energy. That’s fun at work, but when I get home, I am drained, having given too much, worked too hard, been over the top with my energy projection. What I am trying to say is that 32 ounces of caffeine in the morning makes me crazy uppity at first, but sleepy and lethargic by 3pm. I do much better on 12 ounces of coffee a day.
I have learned to be careful with my energy. To know how much I have, to be realistic about what I can do in one day. I used to be a multi-tasker to a fault. It is okay to do less. It is okay to say NO to some things so I can show up 100 percent to other things. This is energy management.
I have also learned a lot about time management. Last year I worked three part-time jobs. My hours off from Job 1 were filled with Job 2, occasionally followed by Job 3. This led to 14 hour workdays, less than one day off per week and a consistently drained Sara. Much of this had to do with my relationship with money, I felt I needed to work every day of the week to have enough. This year I tried something different. I picked only one job and asked for full time with continguous days off. The income of this one job was the same as all three jobs combined and I actually had time to do the things I loved to do.
Part of time management was making myself a priority. I carefully considered new opportunities before saying yes. Even if they were opportunities for fun things, play things, new hobbies, etc. I would first ask myself, am I taking on too much? How much time will this new thing ask of me? Does this feed me or drain me? Would doing this be important a year from now?
I have learned that balance always involves movement. Balance takes a particular amount of engagement and planning, and a certain amount of gentle release as well. I find in life, I balance best if I am not tightly wound, tightly attached to outcome, trying to pack too many things in at once, or pushing for something against the flow.
I have learned that a yoga practice needs to have focus on alignment for me to not feel like I have pulled a muscle afterwards. In knowing this, I have switched yoga studios from Hatha to Anusara Yoga and it is back to being a healthy practice without pain.
I have learned that change in temperature creates wind. And I have felt this phenomena first hand in a tiny aircraft 1,000 feet above the earth.
I have learned that the little plant Plantain with its wide oval shapped leaves and sinuous veins is an extractant. If you have a bee sting or a sliver you cannot remove, creating a poltice from crushed Plantain leaves will help purge the foreign article. I will also soothe the sting.
I have learned how to write query letters to magazines. A query letter is a short letter telling the editor of a magazine or website about a great topic they need to feature and why I am just the author they want to write it.
I have learned that the red oblong tropical Mountain Apples taste a lot like pears and they make a great snack after surfing.
I have learned that salted caramel bars make the best S’mores.
I have learned that there is a simple magic in knowing that you are cared about.
I have had the beautiful reminder to never assume. I never really know what people have gone through, or what they are dealing with. It is not that the nit-picky ones, the grumpy ones are simply mean hearted. We are all human, dealing with the complexities and death and birth and change that life sends our way. Difficulty, loss, struggle, these are all situations that cause us to naturally stress, tighten up, retreat within and become short with others. The opportunities to change my thinking and assume less are everywhere if I am open to them. The closed fist cannot shake hands, cannot receive. The closed mind cannot perceive another‘s humanness. The closed heart cannot receive love.
I have learned that two people can be in the same place, but be having completely different experiences. We are all choosing the nature of our experience. I do not have to allow the experience other people are having dictate my own. I can refrain from picking up the expectations of others, or their fears. I don’t have to agree and adopt how they say it will be, and I can differentiate that is how it will be for them and allow them their own experience.
I have been reminded that all we ever have is here and now. People are living and dying every day. We never know how long we have the people who are so special to us in our world.
I am reminded that most people don’t know how you feel about them until you tell them. I understand that some choose to not say I love you over and over because they fear it will get worn out and mean less. I disagree. Remind people that you love them because they might not be here tomorrow. You may not be here tomorrow. Share time and love and appreciation now while you have got it.
I have been to Kauai 7 times, but just this year I learned that there is a pod of dolphins off the coast. They are spinner dolphins and its exhilarating to see them from a stand up paddle board.
I have learned that its best to communicate to your surfing or paddling buddy that you are done and heading in before you paddle in and get out of the water alone.
I have figured out why Americans want to move to Costa Rica. Will I be one of them, possibly…we shall just have to see.
I have learned how to take care of my own needs. After a few years of practice, I have become quite efficient at this, which is remarkable. However, this year I learned that the extreme of this trait can step on someone else’s wants. In order to have balance, I need to allow others the same space to communicate their needs as I take to communicate my own.
Last year I learned how to so latte art with hearts and leaves. This year, I have taken it to a whole new level. Using espresso, milk and chocolate, I have made faces, elephants, mountains, lizards, butterflies, monkeys, giraffes, an octopus, a hummingbird, a unicorn, mermaids and kayakers on the tops of coffee drinks to add a little love and creativity into my customers’ day.
Have you ever been in a tropical place and noticed that there is rice in the salt shakers? This is to help prevent the salt from sticking together in a block when exposed to the moisture of humidity. This year I learned that when you drop your camera in the river while fishing with a 5 year old, if you put the camera in a bag of rice and leave it alone for 24 hours, it dries out and works just fine!
I have come to the realization that others will show up how they show up and I cannot control that. At first, I had a difficult time with people who do not behave like I do at the workplace. People who only do the bare minimum. That is of course, their choice, but it affects my day by creating more work for me to do. I went through a period of being upset with these people. But then, I understood that is how they show up, and I reached the point where I could just have a good laugh about it and move forward. I found that if I got to work ten minutes early, I could finish their job and then begin my own. I think this is rather similar to parenting. Remember when you used to resent your parents for doing things to you as a kid? And when upset and frustrated, you would vow to yourself, “I am never going to put my kids through that.” The only control you had over the situation was to not do the same thing as a parent yourself.
I find it is similar here. I can do everything expected of me in the workplace. I can sweep and mop, not leave broken pint glasses in the drains, remake chocolate when I use the last of it and help stock things for the next person because that is the only control I have - I get to control how I show up, (not how they show up) and how much I give to the job.
I have caught myself being polite and nice and saying things like, “I am sorry, I can’t do that.” I found that I used to say I am sorry, even when I was not, just to be polite. Doing this is like a tiny white lie. It is being inauthentic. Striving to be authentic, I have learned to be honest about what I can do and what I cannot do but only apologize when I am truly sorry. The same goes for when someone says or does something that hurts me, I don’t step over my feelings and say “Oh that’s okay.” Instead, I tell them how I feel so we can heal it before moving forward. And I do not excuse actions that hurt me just so the other person will not be in an awkward place.
Along the same lines, I have learned that when someone says something that I am hurt by, I often take it the wrong way and make up a story about what they might mean by their comment and I take it personally. In the past, I would just leave. A couple of relationships of mine have ended because of something the other person said that I took in this manner. Then I learned to ask, “Is this what you mean by that comment, because this is how I took it…” And this year, I learned another tool around this.
If I say, “In my head, I am making up a story that you meant….” Then they have a chance to change the story and correct me. Wording things this way makes it even less accusatory and allows the conversation to remain on a level playing field instead of defensive and offensive. Nine times out of ten, that person did not mean what I thought they meant. Often it is a miscommunication and I get the opportunity to let go of my story and replace it with their true intention. I find it incredible that miscommunications used to end my relationships and now that I have more skills and tools these are just things that happen that we both move forward from in a loving way.
In a yoga retreat this year, I learned how to meditate. How to still my mind and sit without thinking.
I have learned that if you want others to support your cause, you need to support theirs also. Generosity often inspires others to give also.
There really is no sense in waiting to do the things you was to do. You don’t have to be the best, the fastest, the strongest or the most flexible. You just have to show up and be authentic. When you are connected to who you really are, you have a greater chance of connecting with others.
If we wait to be better than we are now, opportunities for things we want will continue to pass us by. When we are convincing ourselves we need a different set of circumstances in order to have what we want, we are not fully accepting who we are in this moment. The truth is, you are always capable of having what you want.
And now, after all this reflection about what I have learned, I ask myself, where would my energy be best spent in the coming year? Well, physically, that will be out in the world, beyond the borders of the United States - exploring 16 or more different countries and returning to some favorite hangouts. My energy would be best spent being awake, engaged, connecting with other cultures and ecosystems and of course, playing BIG on this journey.
I would like to devote energy to being a luxuriously paid travel writer.
I would like to work on securing the eternity of the present moment. Somehow I see being present, being awake in this moment as something so important that I have continued to remind myself of it year after year. This summer, I met a monk in orange robes under a banyan tree. I asked him how to secure the eternity of the present moment. He said it involves looking at what you are concerned about. Worried about the future, or dwelling on the past. Make peace with these things so you do not have to carry them into the present moment. If you are worried about something that might happen, come back to a mantra, for example: “All Is Well Right Now.” Use the mantra as often as needed, gently pulling yourself in to the present. And practice, practice, practice.
Perhaps securing the eternity of the present moment is part of what made this monk a guru. But what do I want out of it? A deeper experience, a more focused, whole and energetically available self in this moment. A more vibrant life, and a calm mind. Mindfulness, wholeness, peace.
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