A Letter to Last Year's New You

Hi,

You don't know me very well, and if I'm being honest, I have little recollection of what you were up to this time last year, probably sifting through plans last minute and quadruple-guessing your wardrobe choices for tonight. New Year's Eve remains a powerful motivator every year despite its lack of impact, so nothing significant comes to mind. I know you don't put much stake in New Year's Resolutions, and that's probably wise. The resolutions that stick are determined and honored daily, anyway.

This year will be exactly the same as every year before, in that most of it will be a struggle. Many of your hopes and almost all expectations for 2014 will not be met. The value you assign, and the story you tell about the cards that fall will be what defines you today.

In 2013 you were met with an increase of healthful messages. Some of these appealed to you, and some you took further than others. For every change made, for every drop of sweat and self-esteem earned, an old comfort lost as much in appeal. Thank you for every small victory and display of care for a stranger like me.

In 2013 you were met with some of the most interesting people yet. Connections with some of these appealed to you, and some you took further than others. For every dramatic entrance a new character made in your story, one was displaced. Thank you for your openness. Thank you most of all, for sitting through some loneliness and heartbreak. Thank you for the times you chose love over violence towards strangers like me.

In 2013 you were met with opportunities for creativity and spiritual growth. Some outlets appealed to you, and some took you further than others. For every new venture, a past certainty faded to a shade of gray; a boundary dissolved to reveal the responsibilities that came with the new skills you craved. Thank you for your dedication. Thank you for the times you pressed forward for strange reasons.

My wish for 2014, and every new year to come, is that you change while somehow, strangely, remaining the same hopeful and significant person.

Love,
Me

P.S. You look fine!!!!!

"Know that wisdom is such to your soul; if you find it; there will be a future, and your hope will not be cut off." Proverbs 24:14

Five Reasons a Blog is Better than a Journal

My friends cringed when I first mentioned this blog. At the time we shared the opinion that my thoughts should be more taboo than drunken pictures of myself as a minor,"The internet is not a journal." I denied that I was journaling. I denied that I posted for myself.

This "totally-NOT-journaling-blog" was a thing for me before yoga. This blog was thing before I was a thing- when I laid in bed all day feeling sick and sorry. The practices that continue to make me healthier are just as rooted here as in asana and teaching.

Everyone knows writing has a lot to offer those looking to develop mindfulness, but what better way to develop self-acceptance than an exercise expressing yourself publically? A Blog is Better Than a Journal, not worse, because others can read it.


1. You must organize and accept your thoughts regularly.

Most blogs fail to get off the ground, not for lack of interesting material, but because their writers quit writing. A consistent posting schedule is a big deal. With this in mind, I have more stuff down this year online and on paper.

Overthinking or oversharing personal narratives can be just as irresponsible as neglecting self-reflection. Blogging is the time set aside for this sort of thing. I leave the ramblings to whoever is interested or curious, and that's where they stay.

With infinite viewers in mind, there is a level of personal censorship that is missing from a traditional journal. If proof reading your post reveals something you are not comfortable sharing, you have work to do. What reactions are you assigning others? It's important to take that stuff up with yourself sooner rather than later. It's usually less about revision than acceptance. Revision is easier.  

2. No editors or talking points. 

Entry to Anne Frank's Secret Annex

Professional writing was frustrating. Direction and advice was appreciated most of the time, but it was difficult to share expressive identity with others. Bloggers can say whatever they want, however they want. This is both the glory and pitfall of blogging.

As a result, you WILL say something very ignorant, or worse--- boring and obvious. You will throw something completely raw out for the world to see, and an acquaintance will thank you; sometimes you can't even get Mom to like it on Facebook.

You get better, and you come to appreciate the power of correct grammar. If you expect readers to care enough about you to read between the lines, the least you can do is make those lines legible.

3. Farewell fear of judgment.

You learn very quickly how irrelevant criticism of your feelings(mostly imaginary) is to your life. Most of my blogs are some sort of intellectual exploration of what I consider God to be teaching me. "What do I know?" This phrase tries to escape in every post. I want nothing more than to smooth potential disagreements or just crappy writing over with apologies or phrases like, "This is only a personal belief..." but what good would that do? If you want to write--- If you feel that you have an idea worth sharing and preserving--- Do it, or don't. But if you do, Be Bold, Be Fearless. You have to believe that your readers need you more than erectile dysfunction medication.

4. Accountability.

The week following a post never fails to test everything I shared. With thousands of views this year, I have the slightest clue who is paying attention. Life's a work in progress, but blogging will unite your life with your words quicker than any therapy journal. Curiosity is impossible to underestimate, and so is the power of words. The unpredictable exposure and vulnerability to other's opinions challenges the writer more than the reader.  

5. Our lives do not belong to us.

This is something every writer must believe. Our thoughts, feelings, and circumstances are less permanent than the letters we use to express them. If we didn't find that characteristic valuable, we would not bother.

The most common criticism of blogs is a sort of self-centered or even self-righteous slant, and before picking up my own hobby, I felt the same way. "Who cares?" But that's just it. Clicks are currency. Interest groups and advertisers openly buy, sell, and steal our information and use it to create the world that gets our attention. We continually complain about the emptiness and dishonesty of social media, then fail to develop unpopular insights or share them with other real-time everyday people that might promote them. In favor of what? MOSTLY PORN, cat photos, people falling down, and hateful information about famous strangers we know is made up.


Maybe you aren't the cutest, clearest, or most convenient to access, and maybe your truth isn't always optimistic or entertaining, but if you have ever considered consistently sharing your perspective on the internet, you should. Don't let your fear of other's opinions stop you. If we continue to tell those with power that we prefer to use the most powerful unifying entity ever as a mindless distraction or torture device, then I guarantee they will take us up on it.

"Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed, and who correctly handles the word of truth."

2 Timothy 2:15

 

If You Need to be Reminded of the Following, Look Into Yoga Teacher Training.

The last year has been spent in yoga teacher training. Life has been chaos since graduation. More than a month removed, things starting to fall into place, looking forward to Summit's Teacher Training Program which is set for March 1, the theme is patience and preparation... again. I had no idea what to write about, until a teacher of my own shared a post about the strange things that WILL happen to trainees. It got me to thinking- trying to pin down a perspective when it came to what really changed taking my practice to the next level. I came to the conclusion that I did not become a different or even better person, but a clearer, more refined version of myself. There were things that I had chosen to forget about life when I lost faith in my own identity, burying my truths under layers of perceptions of other's opinions. If you need to be reminded of the following, please... look into training.

1. You're beautiful. YOU. ARE.

Conjuring the beauty of people has never been the challenge for me. When drawing portraits, subject's preoccupations with surplus wrinkles or lack of hair, something I consider ridiculous, is a very real obstacle. Maybe health care spoiled much of the allure of superficial beauty when it came to others, but I could not escape my own criticism- the depth and burden of such criticism I was not even conscious of. Everyday I was met with a new face in the mirror, more often than not, disappointing. Despite extensive reading of self-esteem, I only aspired to accept my physical appearance. When I couldn't, I beat myself up about falling short of that goal too.

Then I spent five weeks in honest clothing without make-up or energy to give a ****. The same sweaty, bare, broken-out reflection greeted me again and again. Finally, I not only recognized it, but grew fond of that silly crooked grin of grandma Bonnie who passed away when I was eleven, and that "Whoville" nose that the entire Parrish clan sports. My dark circles are seen more objectively as a sign of dehydration and food allergies, the first traces of fine lines as the same signs of age and character so admired in patients.

We are not supermodels, well... maybe you are, but I'm not. I'm a poor yoga teacher who aspires to be inspired and refined by as many people as possible before I die. This flat chest, upturned nose, and farm-girl grin will do just fine. What is it you do? How relevant are your insecurities in comparison?

2. You're going to do it, or you aren't.

Sometimes I killed practicum, sometimes I fell flat on my face. Sometimes I was too exhausted to prepare for the physical, academic, or emotional challenges of the next day, but I showed up, and I kept showing up. Obsession with performance became just that- obsession. Redundant, obnoxious self-centered, more-than-useless thought patterns that did not do anything but add stress to those who cared enough to listen to the ranting and keep me up at night. In our culture, the most resisted life-event is death, and if we are really honest with ourselves, that state is nothing compared to a night of insomnia.

3. You always have the ability to be genuine and kind.

Adult success hinges on time management. If you are setting time aside for drama, if you set aside time to back-peddle when someone reacts irrationally to your expression of truth, if you are so concerned with someone's point of view that you are willing to sacrifice your state of mind, then you are not placing your goal as high on your priority list as you may have thought.

Guess what? You will die. Time and youthful energy is limited. Before the end you will get so old you can not stand, if you are lucky; you will probably be very sick or seriously injured. We eventually loose everything. This is scary, but it is one of the few things we all agree upon. So what is your excuse for continuing to suffer or inflict pain on someone that shares the same constraints?

4. You have strengths and weaknesses you aren't aware of.

What makes Asana so powerful is its ability to take us out of our comfort zones. The first time someone practices yoga, they see themselves in unusual positions. Some are easy, some are difficult, some are so foreign anyone would be tempted to wonder "...is this right?" It pleases me that this is the question I get most often from first timer's, because it's the perfect opportunity to reply with confidence that it doesn't really matter.

I came to training to find something out, and once my energy level could not support my competitive side, I found my breath. I also found tight hamstrings, lazy arches, and a weak core. I can teach with tight hamstrings and weak arches. I teach peace of mind after the struggle to turn on the microphone sends my heart racing into my throat. Humans do cool things without connecting all of the dots first, we always have.


The majority of us look forward to the next year to change us, as if 2015 and all of the years before would have magical inspirational properties. The majority of us look to the world for the same magic that will whip us into shape because we are not reminded often enough that we are already an offshoot of something incredibly mysterious and powerful.

If your New Year's Resolutions is based solely on something you do no like about yourself, then I challenge you to chase down that train of thought first. When was the last time your really tried something that took you so far out of your comfort zone, every previous way of dealing with the world lost its relevance and you HAD NO CHOICE but to trust God?

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.

Romans 12:2

Shavasana

On request, photo's of "what it looks like where (I'm) from"

Shavasana (corpse pose) is the closing asana. When my first instructor coached, "Shavasana can be the most difficult pose.", I saw this as an attempt at dramatic irony to keep a room full of students from fidgeting noisily. As a yogi comes into a deeper understanding of what it means to bring intention to every asana, lying still and relaxed presents the most unique challenges as the personal definition of "still and relaxed" evolves.

Yoga's cool down routine is an experimental space for a still body to single out the subtle sources of its relaxation. We channel the mindfulness established in the previous work out, and find we are better able to recognize our thought patterns, helpful and harmful to priceless rest and recovery. The fact that this power is surprising to most new students is one of the reasons why there is so much work to be done.

Since there is a loose a association with resting---bed... You're welcome.

When first assuming what has become my favorite posture, I would often receive a very welcome adjustment. Instructors pressed my shoulders down to the mat, exposing and releasing tension though my chest- tension I knew was loosely tied to a detested self-conscious posture. After two years of practicing almost everyday, I have better posture and a more compassionate view of my body.

Undergrad identified my misalignment as a result of repetitive overreactions and internalization of challenges. I feel scared often and find social situations most difficult, the body responds to this attitude by assuming a fetal position for protection. This acceptance has not destroyed my life, but yoked me with the ability and therefore responsibility to do something about it with the tools earned in teacher training. That something is strengthening my back and stretching the muscles in my chest; It's a work in progress but my recoil reflex is weakening along with neck pain, tension headache, and shortness of breath.

By the end of 500 hour training I sprawled like a starfish, an unconscious grin spreading. I have missed this time while teaching. It can be very difficult to follow my own advice or find the place so highly valued. Preoccupation with every fidget taken as a sign of disappointed students who will never try yoga again.

The mind's habit of projecting itself into past or future situations is the biggest threat to mindfulness in modern culture, and the source of most young adult pain. We waste mental power best applied within our physical limits making use of current resources, as our ego runs wild through tired fantasies or nightmares, robbing us of our time, focus, and health.

The perfect body is an image modern humans can not hope to escape, with it's predictable and rare proportions. Mental powers are just has highly sought and exploited. In subculture this capacity is almost always elevated to it's own form of idolatry. I have an enormous problem accepting intellectual ability as a surrogate for physical condition or visa versa, because I have come to see them as inseparable.

This dualistic inside/outside model of "who we are" is a commercial oversimplification which is dangerous to the ideals both claim to exclusively represent. In our stronger moments we devote all of our energy in one direction only to encounter inexplicable delay or injury. In weaker moments we dismiss our neglect.

This holiday season, I find myself in a resting state off the mat. Between full time jobs, training complete, open arms of family during the holidays lessening the immediate financial burden and professional obligation, I have time to reflect on my own mental short-cuts from a place of rest, a place I have never taken advantage of before. (...okay... after spending the first two days of unexpected leave frantically pecking out applications and lying curled in a ball.)

My M.O. dictates that this is a time to close the gaps between the person I was and should be by now while worrying about uncertainties of the future. Because of this pattern, I have missed much of the person I was, and the relationships I was blessed with awaiting opportunities to promote own desperate and fickle agenda or check my phone for correspondence from people who weren't there. I wish I had known that girl better, and taken better care of her body. I wish I had been kinder to the ones that were helping her along the way, dismissing those who lacked interest.

I encourage any of you going through a similar time in your life, where you seem compelled by your well of energy yet unable to accept the worth of your contribution, to take advantage of the holiday season as a "shavasana". Bring awareness to habitual treatment and responses to those more permanent fixtures in your life. See the socially accepted time away from work for what it is, something to celebrate not an edge to take advantage of. Learn something about yourself you can bring back to work and worship, LATER.

 

"When I am afraid I put my trust in you.

In God whose word I praise.

In God I trust; I shall not be afraid.

What can flesh do to me?"      

Psalm 56:3-4  

Fire and Knives

Seven Mile Latte (Stumptown Hairbender)

I was diagnosed with Dyshindrotic Eczema this week. The first outbreak started during 500hr training. By the time I saw the dermatologist, my right hand was transforming into hamburger meat at an alarming rate. In hindsight, an outbreak of something should have came as no surprise. I'd spent months torturing my hands, alternating them carelessly between humid conditions in the hot yoga studio, a coating of drying magnesium powder for climbs, and the hot water bath tending bar.

Vegan Blueberry Pancakes and Strawberry Nutella Waffle

I was a little shocked that I wouldn't be making coffee anymore, a skill I have come to take some pride in. I would also be leaving a job I have had for over a year, but the blow was softened considerably the next day. Healthy new skin revealed itself beneath incapacitating blisters that had been the bane of my-- and anyone-around-me's-- existence.

I learned a ton in my year at Seven Mile Café. I have never worked as part of a team with a more cooperative backbone. That isn't to say there aren't quirks, but in general everyone does their best to embrace strengths and excuse weaknesses as the business that unites and empowers them grows.

In high-pressure situations, and a busy restaurant can feel as compelling as a code blue, frustration, unforeseen challenges, and miscommunication abound, but the owners and management of this team have an innate and unrivalled ability to motivate and maintain high expectations in the face of what an outside-observer could only describe as chaos. It's not mysterious to me where this power comes from.



10,000th shot pulled

I have never worked in a business where the owner was present everyday. I have never worked in a business where its owners and their managers worked just as hard on the front lines as their employees... every... day. Kevin and Jose's engaged presence has allows them to make responsible innovations and form relevant assumptions about a very diverse pool of team members.

The unique environment they have created by striving to improve themselves makes it impossible for those who do not adopt the same dedication and critical thinking skills to stick. The hostess-in-training who lasted an hour before forfeiting, "I can't do this." comes to mind.



Seasonal Pumpkin Spice Latte

I hope to own my own business sooner or later, and when I do, I will remember Seven Mile Cafe. I will remember the sacrifices, investments, and adjustments. I will remember the loyalty and community these people attracted by being remarkably themselves. I will remember the passion for food and attachment to quality of product whether a poached egg or shot of espresso. I will remember, most of all, the focus and willingness to forgive in the midst of passion, fire, knives, and Sunday rushes.

Hope you had a good one today.

Artist: Abby Buford, Manager of Seven Mile Highland Village

"As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another." -Proverbs 27:17        

Bivy

A week after completion of 200 hour training, some coworkers invited me to climb with them. The solitude, ties to nature, and riddles were a nice new way to expend the extra energy yoga tapped into. It didn't hurt that climbers are some of the best people on earth. Their openness, drive, and individuality is unrivalled.

Teaching for Summit Climbing Gyms is a highlight of my week. Only two climbers braved the first frozen morning for an hour of spine stabilizing in a noon Climber Power Flow. The cold, recent change of class title, and plans for the afternoon motivated me to generate more heat than usual.

By one-thirty I was climbing again. It wasn't my first time on a route since graduation, but it was the first day I lasted more than half an hour, holding back in order to avoid the frustration of new limits. There is this ridiculousness of new strength and control gained in Sunstone's Earth, Fire, and Wood series meeting not so distant memories of being... well, better at getting up a wall.

I've committed a lot of thought and verbiage to exploring how participation in yoga has effected me, so today I took time to think about climbing. Below are five ways climbing has yoked my body and mind.

1. Gravity.

Yogi feet are wide with lifted arches. The lifted arch optimized engagement through the ankle, calf, and eventually knee, leg, and hip. In most challenges to balance in yoga, advancement comes from muscular control of the leg directed by the sensitivity of the bare foot.

In climbing, the foot and shoe are inseparable. In order to stay on the wall, you must learn how to maximize the shoe-foot as a wedge. Inflexible, extremely tight, arched and pointed, shoes are a source of great use and great discomfort. Body weight pivots on interactions between various holds, chalky fingers, and small segments of rubber.

The operating instructions given by fellow climbers from twenty feet bellow can be as enlightening as adjustments given by even the best yoga instructors, and the basic themes of resisting gravity apply- mainly trusting your natural potential to subconsciously apply the universal laws of physics.

2. You can't embody a rock.

Experienced yogis have internalized optimal alignments to some degree. There is a limit to the instructions that can be shared because our bodies are different and some of the most important movements are virtually undetectable. Mastery comes from an appropriate level of a personal acceptance, and proportional discipline and patience.

In a climbing gym, a route has a definite goal, and the holds one must use on the way up are the same for every climber. There are opportunities for creativity, but accepting a hold as outside of your grasp for now isn't always a gratifying epiphany. Unfinished routes loom in the back of your mind and can be a source of much shit-talking.

3. The ground is far away.

One of my favorite yoga encouragements is a version of, "If you fall out it's no big deal. Get back in." In climbing... not so much. If you're using equipment properly, a fall will not kill you, but the possibility is still alive in my lizard brain. Watching more experienced climbers, it becomes clear that one gets over this, but failing to finish a route and having to come ALL THE WAY DOWN totally sucks- especially when you have exhausted yourself.

There is little reason to believe any other possibilities exist until you determine to find the edge. In yoga and climbing, this edge is often a tipping point or limit to range of conscious motion. You have that control or you don't. Once you understand and accept that reality and fully embrace the challenges unhindered by the fear of disappointment, the human body will never cease to remind you that it is capable of more than expected.

4. Momentum.

Sunstone does an especially good job of incorporating dynamic movement into the static nature of Asana, but generally yoga uses poses as a framework for strength building through alternating and maintaining contraction. At my highest levels of performance, I become so focused on the muscular interplay and breath within stillness, that I forget sequence entirely. Sometimes this happens when I demo for students, and can be awkward to shake off.

On the wall, inertia from the last move is your friend. Resting occasionally is fine, but it puts stress on grip- a limiting factor for a new climber. Ideally you know the direction you're headed, even if its not certain how it will ever come together. Your best bet is to go for it- past it- and brace yourself for rough contact on the backswing while lizard-neurons scream, "It's a trick! The route setters are trying to kill you!"

5. Summit.

Yogis can practice all day, every day. We bring awareness and discipline to posture and the breath while standing, lifting, walking, and even driving. We strive to bring engagement and stillness into every task and interaction. Climber's high requires something to well... climb. Since imparting on my new hobby, I can admit to sizing up trees, walls, and dumpsters that never held much significance before.
"I think I could climb that..."
Get enough like minded people together, and things could get dangerous.
"You definitely could."

Always encouraging are more experienced climbers.
"That's how it is. You back off for more then a week, and you feel like it's your first time. Work for it. You'll get back."
"This same thing happened to a friend of mine. More strength... just don't know how to use it yet."
"You can't climb the same way you did before training. YOU are not the same."

I can agree that I'm not the same person I was before training. There are the expected increases in physical strength, but exposure to the possibility and diversity of life over this short time period has been more empowering and transformative than practice alone. Energy not strangled by fear and self-doubt escapes in the form of joy shared with others, and the returns are generous. The currency of life is no longer self-preservation, but desire to participate and explore. 

The heart of a yogi seeks humility in the mundane; the heart of a climber craves the experiences that humble. Yoga enhances my relationship with the ever-present infinite within myself and others, and now climbing has stirred an attraction to the astonishing and ever illusive views from the top. My adventures in both continually remind me to value acceptance and embrace the liberation of impermanence. There ARE impossibilities, but only God knows what they are.

"If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied."

1 Corinthians 15:19



Wood

Wood is Sunstone's resistance stretching class. In my favorite class, we increase flexibility and range of motion in our bodies by strengthening weak areas.

Wood class is confusing to get into. First of all, it's not pretty. The expansive Dancing Shiva and Standing Bow are replaced by the carnivorous Strong Warrior Spine Twist. A room full of arched backs and bent knees and elbows are reflected back at the full expression of each pose. An instructor reminds us to return to moderate effort when we feel our more experienced muscle groups taking up the slack or when our bodies no longer resemble gargoyles. This result is an hour of muscle confusion and psychological disorientation.

I had rocky relationships with my joints before my first round of training. Health care and the service industries are filled with knee-lockers like myself. We found a sweet spot long ago where our bones stack on top of each other and leave our standing support to the quads and a few unfortunate tendons and ligaments. These tissues were screaming after two days of lunging Warriors and squatting Awkwards. Wednesday of week one was my first Wood. Thursday morning I stepped out of bed as I had since Monday, bracing for painful impact. When I stood on both legs without pain, my understanding of my body and maybe even my life had changed.

When we show up for life we have opportunities to break patterns everyday. The patterns we have the hardest time parting with are usually the ones that are most convenient, but not necessarily the most beneficial. We each have manifested clear definitions of strengths that we like to use to threaten to our weaknesses into hiding. 

Popular fitness emphasizes the six pack abdominals, the biceps, the triceps, pectorals, and the gluteus to the virtual exclusion of their synergists or even the reciprocity between them. In dominant culture we emphasize our prime moves to the exclusion of all else. Sex appeal and money are agonists that we return to again and again to avoid the challenges that aren't always pretty, the cues that are unclear, and the effects that are inconceivable.

Wood immediately conjures the words strength and stability, but there is more to this form. A tree is still, but its composition is incredibly versatile. Irrevocably tied to the earth and fire, trees are a constant reminder of the unpredictable dynamics of growth in this strange world of ours.

Your spirit has uses and expressions that you can not imagine. This is not an empty promise or encouragement set sometime in the irrefutable future, this is right now. Every person contributes the full expression of humanity whether the role is prime mover, synergist, or antagonist. Weaknesses are not enemies, and opposition is part of the journey to true strength.

A special thanks to my sweet Eagles and teachers for moving with me.

 

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

2 Corinthians 4:16-18



Fire

Yoga means "yoke" and refers to the yoking of mind and body.

Sunstone's Earth 60, a power vinyasa flow class, requires minding transitions between poses and conserving energy by maximizing breath. In Earth, the focus is pace and sequence.

Sunstone's Fire 60 includes 32 asanas(exercises) arranged to safety and efficiently target the major muscle groups of the body and maximize their potential expression. In Fire, the focus is alignment.   

Alignment is criticized as being overemphasized in western culture. Traditionalist's find the preoccupation superficial. I strongly disagree; Any yogi knows there is more at work in a strong pose than desire to look a certain way. The poses that impress do so because there is something fundamentally strong about straight lines, distinct angles, and rounded curves- this order that is not exactly unearthly, but absolutely requiring effort and concentration. The expressions that satisfy me are less-and-less a manifestation of caring about how good at yoga I seem, and more of a testament to accumulating understanding, discipline, and focus.

Earth had been challenging physically, but I couldn't help but be encouraged by the improvements in my conditioning since last time around. Fire week engulfed me. I was a metaphorical pile of ashes last Friday night. I came home, set-and-determined to crank out a few paragraphs for you through uncooperative fingers, and finally gave up because I couldn't see through my eyelids. Unsurprisingly, none of what I wrote made any since to me today accept this, 

"Never forget that the only constant is change, and the most powerful forces for change are also the most fragile and temperamental."

My spirit had broken. Sadness is usually associated with that phrase, but I liken the way I felt to detachment from the results of training and my entire life really. There was my mind and my body, both defeated, and I was alone in the Temple of the Holy Spirit.

To keep warm we have to believe alignment is relevant. We have to allow beauty to glorify God. We have to believe that these things of order appear to remind us of the purpose we were created for. But most importantly, we have to accept that we are an animate heap of potential energy governed by natural laws- remembering how dangerous flames can be and how easily they go out when starved.

Accepting this responsibility is the spark.

 

I come to send fire on the earth and what will I, if it be already kindled.

Luke 12:49

Earth

I am back in training. I spend fourteen hours a day in studio; the rest of my time is spent preparing for and recovering from those hours. I am backpacking again. Suspending exhaustion, distracting anxieties, and dodging self-doubt because energy is limited, and attention is fragile. Bombarded with so much new information, a successful traveler, at some point, makes a decision. She remains as open to new stimuli as possible and allows her intuition the discerning.

Three summers ago I booked a flight to Berlin alone. The night before take-off, I laid in bed terrified while my little brother slept. Death loomed an enormous possibility, but the idea of hiding from my inadequacies one day longer had become more of a stretch than a life without my family. Twenty hours later, I watched the sun rise from the window seat of a transatlantic flight. The cabin was silent and mostly dark aside from reading lamps. Quiet light fell on my Moleskine journal,

"What I'm doing is selfish."

The word selfish strangles every beautiful thing that ever happened. We live in a culture that gives us every obvious necessity in exchange for our souls. We take ourselves for granted, lulled into physical compliance by media and conveniences while our insides scream for relief, weary of the same decisions, social obligations, and tired inner dialogue. We respond by gagging our consciences with unsatisfying relationships, poisons, and other things we have been sold- all because we fear suffering. Life is change, and change is a huge challenge for an organism trying to hold itself together here on earth. Every second you settle for suffering while doing what is easy is another second of your soul sold. Gravity forfeited. Impact absorbed.

It comes down to what kind of world you think we live in, what kind of person you think you are, and what kind of higher power you respect. If your responses are empty, then I pity you. The world I live in, the person I am, and the God I serve is incredibly dynamic. There is not one person or truth I have known that has made a strong case for permanence or lack of personal responsibility, and there is not one product or activity that has left any human being more powerful than cultivating an attitude of gratitude for the opportunity to flail in the confusion assigned to them with the kind of poise that inspires others to do the same.

It's week one and I have been met with as much order as chaos in my second round of teacher training. I have no idea what is going to happen here, but if feels good to be traveling again.

 

I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works;

and that my soul knoweth right well.

Psalms 139:14

Inversion

Teaching is so disorienting in the best possible way, allowing me to recognize the world as a medium again. The odyssey began at Sunstone Yoga Academy earlier this year. A few months later, I am infatuated with my position at Summit. An attempt to appropriately express my gratitude for these opportunities will not be successful. I have arguably had more small triumphs and life-giving interactions in the last few months than the last three years of my life combined.

A lot of time has been devoted to reflections on my own Dark Knight of the Soul- correlating the ending of curriculum driven life, grad school plans evaporating, best friends diffusing across the country, heaping romantic failure, a book called The History of Philosophy... I claw my way through layers of struggle in hopes of uncovering that one precipitating moment, that one fuck-up that turned my world upside down. Wrist deep in my own misery for almost two years, I came to a realization. That one glitch I vowed to correct and forever remove from my behavioral portfolio was a prayer.

I sat alone in the dark at the foot of the bed in my apartment on Elm Street. I collected a support system of books for my Boston University School of Public Health Masters of Public Health Public Health Promotion Emphasis prep earlier that day. Life was good, and I had a plan. I chose this moment to get greedy. What ELSE could a reasonably intelligent, traditionally attractive, white, middle class, Christian, American, college educated girl desire? To not hate herself.

I prayed for self-esteem. No the airbrushed, filtered, persuasive resume variety- we're talking the Drizzy Drake variety. We are talking about battle hardened confidence for the girl who had no concept of a closed door. I wont recount my lows here, if you're curious scroll down a ways. He is faithful my friends.

Last Tuesday I taught my first legitimate on-the-schedule (Noon at Summit Yoga Dallas) class. I stayed up too late the night before, but other than that felt as prepared as I could be. Early, I decided to grab Starbucks on the way in. Nine times out of ten... okay seven times out of ten... coffee is the nectar of the Gods- you feel indestructible, your IQ doubles, illusions of productivity abound, but sometimes.... sometimes the barista pushes a different button and the automated grinder dispenses straight poison into your tall one-pump pumpkin spice latte.

Sometimes you realize, with more anxiety than necessary, that you forgot the code to the building and send with trembling fingers an embarrassing text to your new boss. Sometimes your password does not unlock the log-in computer, and you get to break the ice by asking each of the strangers you are supposed to be instructing spiritually how to spell their names as you clumsily copy them down with varying accuracy on the back of a crumpled Walmart receipt you felt lucky to have found in your purse. Sometimes you are met with the faces of strong beautiful women expecting inversion practice. What they got was me- sweaty, shaky, intimidated me in all my caffeinated glory.

It was bad, but a week later I got another shot. I still had Starbucks, but gave myself a little more time for recovery. Knowing my potential for epic flailure survival, I was pleased to tap into this reserve far fewer times. Other than a few moments of awkwardness including at one point saying, "I like to feel what's inside... me." I felt like a real teacher for an hour, and I liked that person.

Sometimes yogis get a hard time from conservative Cristian groups because what we do resembles what they do. I think God is going to do what HE is going to do, and luckily one of those things is answering prayers. He is using yoga to answer one of mine, and I am enveloped in gratitude.

 

Proverbs 3:5-6 Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him,  and he will make straight your paths.

 

 

"Bein' humble don't work as well as bein' aware." -Drake

      
 

Ahimsa

I'm not educated enough to go on an enlightened political rant about the nature of terror. Shame on anyone who might accept judgments I pass on those who accept responsibility for the entire world. On the 13th anniversary of 9/11, I sat cross-legged listlessly alternating between stroking my laptop and spooning a bowl of Spaghettio's into my mouth. I knew at the time the general focus of this post would involve violence, but got as far as the next sentence before boring myself to tears.

Ahimsa is a Sanskrit word for "no-harm". It is included in the First Limb of Yoga, Universal Morality, but has strong ties to other eastern religions like Buddhism and Jainism especially.

Now that THAT'S over with, I have the most adorable little sister on the planet. My first memory of her follows my own footsteps and their shadows cast by dim white light on hardwood floor. The clumsy pitter-patter of my feet no doubt disturbs my parents, but not Avery. Two unflinching water-eyes anticipate the daily feat of toddler athleticism I undertake to be closer to her.

She has always been one of the most delightful people I know, and nothing is more exciting than waiting for her to arrive at an airport terminal. Her round soft and encouragingly animate blue eyes are framed by platinum blonde hair making her an instant sensation. She uses her sharpness and empathetic clarity to make herself and those around her comfortable anywhere, and takes her own "flail-ures"(Thanks Berny) with the comic grace and resilience of Lucile Ball. Basically she is my antithesis, and I used to beat her up a lot when I was little.

I have the most fascinating mother on the planet. My relationship with her is one of my most frustrating and rewarding. If you have spent any time around her, you have been caught off guard by reckless yet somehow relatable beauty. She believes in aliens, Jesus, independent voters, and Fox News. My mother is home for me, completely overwhelmed by the responsibilities of a family, daydreaming about a private getaway to Arkansas. She pauses only to listen to my juvenile frustrations with genuine understanding, or to ask if I want mustard on the sandwich I didn't have to ask for.

"No, that's okay." As it has been for twenty-five years. I don't come here just to eat, I promise.

"Are you sure?" She replies from behind the refrigerator door, "I have mustard..."

I don't like mustard, "Okay."

"Do you want me to heat it up?"

"No." Cold sandwiches are superior.

Microwave buttons chirp. "Are you sure?? ... I'll heat it up for you. Oh! ...and I have baked beans! I can put those on the stove if you want..."

My earliest memory of my mother is one of pride: the view from Indian-style watching her playfully lead an adult Sunday school class in a full length technicolor gown. Although her social media profile consists of sporadic Facebook ramblings visible to five people, she never fails to stimulate creative conversation with her sharp criticism and unapologetic conviction. She is a reliable champion and restraint, and I have not always appreciated her services.

Violence towards those we love is another one of those great sufferings life has to offer. God blesses us with proximity to other reflections of Him without removing their ability to disagree with, leave, or otherwise disappoint us. Terror on a global scale stems from the same roots as personal frustrations. Individuals become more attached to an inflated irrevocable scapegoat of a belief or expectation than their responsibility to converse with God daily in response to the less glamorous demands of  the perfect world He created... like being polite to people.

Resentment is an easy trap to fall into because an active spiritual life requires tremendous inward effort, and the results usually resemble outward stillness. We are called to constantly guard ourselves from harm while we transform the same energies often blamed for violent outrage into humble disciplined constructive linear accomplishments. This starts with believing that God gave you the ability to neutralize negativity without absorbing or propagating it.

I don't know that the natural order of the world can or should ever resemble peace or outward stillness on a global scale, but I know for a fact that adapting Ahimsa in my own life has made my corner of the world less threatening. As for my Spaghettio's, they are the ones with the little hotdogs in them, and they are delicious; so Ahimsa is a moving target. If this resonates with you, and even if it doesn't...

Namaste :)

 

 

Violence shall no more be heard in your land, devastation or destruction within your borders; you shall call your walls Salvation, and your gates Praise.

Isiah 60:18

Father, Forgive Them, For They Know Not What They Do.

And Jesus said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." -Luke 23:34

The intention of my practice for the last week has been forgiveness. I imagine it can seem strange to choose a spiritual intention for a workout, but that's where I'm at. My mat is the place I explore my emotional dynamics in a way that feels safe.

Instructing others has brought me completely out of this comfort zone. Suddenly my private time to physically challenge myself is intruded upon. I demonstrate a pose while explaining movements in terms that wont confuse the people practicing with me while I try to keep track of an effective and safe sequence. I feel lucky to have chosen forgiveness as a focus, because it comes in handy when I make mistakes. Handling mistakes well comes in handy when I'm learning.

I learned early not to fear death. Life is a short detour, and Heaven is infinitely better than Earth. My Heaven was, and as naïve as it may sound, still is a place where love between myself and others never fades. If heaven is a place, If God is the kind of thing that will talk to me, If I'm the kind of thing that will still be curious about Him... These are my mature celestial daydreams.

I was shocked to receive such warm welcomes after completely butchering my first class. I got rights and lefts confused and encountered a yoga teacher's equivalent to writer's block too many times. Nerves were a huge interference with my breath which is never good, and any illusion of fluency was met with a room full of grimaces.

Later my roommate, a more experienced teacher, encouraged me, "Someone once told me, if everyone in the class looks like they are going to kill you, then you are doing something right. It means they are going inward."

Heaven has been the destination of my inward journey lately. I imagine God waiting to meet and walk with me to my home there. Today He smiled a riddle,
    
"Where do you think you're going?"

"Oh. Hey God. Heaven silly."
    
"Here?"
    
"uuuuhhh... YEaaah. Ya know? The place... that's perfect... that reward I'm supposed to deserve after all the BS I went through down there."
    
"Where?"
    
"ummmm? What?
Where I've been all this time! Where I was born and worked and hung out with everyone else... Ya know??!!! Where I was underappreciated and disappointed... Where I fought for You and my family and the things that are good... Where no one would listen to me... You know that place you made...where there are so many people and so much suffering."

"Hell?"

"No... Earth."

"That's not the Earth. Earth is perfect and so are the people in it. Where HAVE you been all this time? What debt is owed to you?"

Being glared at by a room full of strangers for an hour while attempting something new is probably not on anyone's bucket list, but I made a choice to perceive negative feedback when I could have been celebrating a moment I had worked really hard for. The idea that exertion is uncomfortable is arguably a FAR more logical explanation than what my anxiety ridden brain carelessly conjured.

Resentment arises from lack of compassion. We fail to correctly interpret the intentions of others. That isn't to say that humans don't hurt each other on purpose, but if we are to be healthy people, we must take care to protect ourselves from self-injury. We always have a choice to accept other's intentions towards us as positively as possible or avoid situations where other's harmful intentions are difficult to interpret any other way.

Accepting this responsibility in our dealings with others is only possible when we reach a more tolerant position with ourselves. We never know the true nature of other's interpretations of us- sometimes it's hard to get a read on our own- but we can be sure of God's. I think that cultivating forgiveness allows us to accept our limitations as a natural law of Creation. Acting creatively and considerately within this framework is as close as we will ever be to perfection. 

    

Five Symptoms of Early Adulthood

We experienced fist steps, first friends, first cars, and first loves in the first quarter of our life span. The milestones of early adulthood are less quantifiable, but that doesn't rob them of their power to keep life interesting. If you are experiencing any of the following, you may be in danger of becoming a productive member of society.
 
1. We don't want to, but we do. It's the worst day of my life. I'm sick, tired, ugly, not to mention annoyed with everyone I work with, and as far as I can tell the feeling is mutual. I'm pushing myself to keep up with a rush. Naturally, a customer chooses THIS moment to ask me for a to-go water... as IF they did not just leave an entire glass at their table, and as IF the place they are going lacks indoor plumbing. Pity-party and assembly-line interrupted, I throw together said water with a smile. The shift continues in this fashion until I forget to be miserable, grab some caffeine, or remember I haven't eaten.

Moral of the story: The world is less inclined to dramatic shifts than our body chemistry. Part of being an adult is being dependable and this means CHECKING OURSELVES. We are learning the importance of prioritizing self-care and the virtues of delayed gratification.

2. We want to, but don't. Money is pretty tight at the moment. I invested quite a bit on training and am beginning to see it pay off. Growing up I would often frustrate my stepmom because I could never think of anything I wanted for Christmas; now I have a wish list in dangerous proximity to plastic imaginary money. I enjoy what I do, and there are very talented people designing products that make my job better... very talented people who want my money.
   
For most of us, it is about time to re-up. We identify more and more with established adults and can not ignore the impact of the finer things. Experimenting with our comfort levels(financial or not) is necessary for gain, but manic vision is seductive and very persistent. Most of us still have the energy and freedom to gain experience, and we finally possess enough wisdom to recognize limiting factors. We can use this combination to our advantage.

3. We see ourselves reflected in others. My brother just started high school. I recognized the excitement with a splash of anxiety when he asked for my advice on a class presentation about a sentimental item. He and my mom bought some new clothes for school, and he was particularly proud of his shoes and a pair of really strange pants.
    
"I LOVE THESE PANTS!!!, but I don't know about the first week, ya know?"

We have collected some notches in our belt. We stumble upon reflections of our lives when we are not the subject of conversation. It happens more in general, but mostly in our dealings with younger people who aren't even related to us as they climb clumsily (albeit enthusiastically) out of  nowhere and into our work places.    

4. We speak the truth.
My brother and I searched his room for an item that would satisfy the assignment.

"How about Lizzy?" He has the coolest gecko ever.

"Naahhh... I tried that once. It's a huge distraction." I tried that once. It was a huge distraction.

"How about the first hockey stick I ever broke? That's sentimental?"

"Yes." Somewhat relieved, "That is sentimental, and it's sports. Plus it's broken- makes it more interesting and linked to a specific moment." Society approved mode of male emotional expression. Tell the story and sit down.

After closer examination I told him I liked his pants because they would be good for rock climbing. My mother had caught our conversation from the kitchen,

"I like them too, but don't you think... that you can wait for your second week for yourrrr DEBUE!!?"

I agreed laughing, "Yeah Joe, SOMEONE is going to tease you, so if you're not comfortable yet, wait, or wear them to skate." I'm all for marching to beat of your own drummer, but... you'd have to see the pants.

When we recognize our younger selves, the lessons we learned come to mind. We want to spare loved ones the same traumas, of course, but at times it seems our responsibility to share with strangers. We don't pause to think or philosophize, the words escape and with a tone of... was that authority??

5. We listen. I used to listen as if I were shopping online. I would even eagerly ask for advice, only to discard the pieces that weren't convenient to my master plans. If an authority presented themselves unsolicited, I would respond with the cold politeness due a telemarketer.

By our twenties we are coming to grips with our limitations and strengths. We have working memory of experiences when faced with challenges, and we use this inside info to align our future goals with our current resources. We put our wisdom to use when those we care about face problems with less concern for their expectations than before, and we find ourselves less inclined to take the hard learned truths of others lightly. Instead, we take them in context.

By putting our own lives in context, we, as young adults, have the ability to construct a more realistic identity. We may not be as epic as our childhood fantasies before us, but we arrive at an image that we can use, we set goals that we will actually reach, and we require less affirmation from others in order to be satisfied with our lives.

Have a spectacular day!

 

"A person who doubts himself is like a man who would enlist in the ranks of his enemies and bear arms against himself."-Alexander Dumas

"Whoever tries to keep their life will lose it."

Whoever tries to keep their life will lose it,

and whoever loses their life will preserve it.

Luke 17:33

 

 

 

Robin William's death struck a chord with me like so many of you. I found this verse while searching for some inspiration for a post on suicide. I could ramble on for days about my own struggle with depression, but after what is happening in my home state, that is exactly what it feels like- empty self-indulgent rambling.

 

Pride is the American way. I've had about all I can take of pride. I'm finally coming to grips with how I see the problem after struggling to articulate what really happened in Ferguson to a friend of mine who isn't from the United States. The paradoxes- the police are supposed to protect us, as one of us, in the face of the trauma our officers are exposed to everyday. The African American community's plight is such a sensitive issue that the failure of its young people is taboo. Meanwhile we sidestep the glorification of drugs and violence in mainstream culture because ignoring it is entertaining and profitable for those of us who have the luxury of compartmentalization.

 

I've had about all I can take of pride. We allow our minds to fade to the point where punctuation and spelling are no longer as important as camera filters, and the health of our bodies consistently takes second chair to "winding-down" by using whichever poisonous and remarkably expensive vice is most convenient. We sit staring at television and computer screens for years of our lives while gravity contorts our bodies into uselessness. Meanwhile the morale and obesity boosting snacks and coffees required to maintain our stressful yet somehow meaningless lives threaten the health of every organ system in our bodies.

 

I've had about all I can take of pride. We allow our hearts to believe that a relationship that isn't composed of two of the most equally-yoked, photogenic, successful, and witty people is somehow symptomatic of chronic psychological disorder for which therapy is needed. We are eagerly exploited by dating apps, drug companies, and pornographers in hopes of maximizing our sexual potential. Meanwhile we repel genuine opportunities to nurture others because human contact and the real people we need don't bare a close enough resemblance to our fantasies about ourselves.    

 

I've had about all I can take of pride. We take bullying, depression, and suicide- issues that have existed for the entirety of human existence- and elevate them to the forefront of internet consciousness, so that we can hypocritically comment or have the delightful opportunity to "click here" and learn more about a mind-altering medication with these horrific effects we ARE aware of, or a legal add where we can sue for effects we weren't. Meanwhile we constantly ignore our own responsibilities of self-control, compassion, and gratitude in favor of victimization.   

 

I do not deny suppression or hate and their power to elicit aggressive responses. I am a white woman, and if that sounds like a particularly free and glamorous lot in life, then you are not a white woman or you are likely not misunderstood. We will never know exactly what lead to the death of Micheal Brown on August 9, but it sounds like one guy killed another guy and pride usually has something to do with that sort of thing. Pride was involved in the lies, following theft and destruction, and even my own difficulty putting this away.

 

When I first encountered Luke 17:33, I was a child and a fundamentalist. Riddles and paradoxes weren't particularly interesting to me. The older I get, the more acceptable not knowing becomes and the less threatening a never ending journey seems. There will always be games to be played and the experience of confusion has the potential to transform the way we see our lives. If pride does not allow this situation to be thought provoking, pardon me for the distraction.  

 

 

 

"You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it."

-Robin Williams

You Win Some, You Lose Some

Niyama(Personal Observances) and Kahneman's Thinking Fast and Slow continue to inspire me. Yoga's Second Limb encourages us to see purity, contentment, discipline, self-study, and celebration of the spiritual in our daily lives. The book requires its readers to examine gambles revealing emotionally induced fallacies in decision making.

It was preached to me as a small child that luck didn't exist. Chaos and random events were superstitious and by definition a threat to God's order. Until that point, luck was just an easy way to refer to all the stuff that didn't make since. Confused, I accepted this as another truth I would understand when I was older.

Life is more random than we can accept. Our fallacy stems from lack of contentment: the ego-inflated idea that we deserve something somehow better than the chaotic world God has created- risk, responsibilities and all. Every decision is a gamble, and our insignificance can allow us the luxury of broad framing and ability to see mistakes as somehow appropriate.

When we make short-sighted decisions, we fail to consider the wealth that life naturally afford us- opportunity. Ignoring a chance to succeed for fear of failure is a manifestation of an unhealthy view that God is not generous and that higher thinking is foolish.

If we are to contemplate outcomes at all, it is largely unproductive to do so on a decision-by-decision basis. It is certainly more natural, but only because it is easier to integrate fewer pieces of fresh information. The healthiest view of ourselves requires us to know everything or have an extraordinary amount of compassion for ourselves and others. The former will never happen, and punishing ourselves for this fact is a complete waste of the energy we could be using to develop said compassion. 

It takes tremendous creativity, but also discipline and faith to orient ourselves to the big picture. There will be losses, and there will certainly be wins, and the sooner we accept our limitations, the more loveable we are. A human, framed narrowly, is limited by size, age, location, health, and resources. God isn't, and the second luck and risk fail to exist is the second He has forsaken us.         

Well Endowed?

I'm finishing a book I bought last summer at a train station in Prague- International Best Seller Thinking Fast and Slow. It's an exploration of human decision-making based on the extraordinary life and career of Nobel Prize Winner Daniel Kahneman. I've found the entire book useful, but the concept I share to today is endowment.

 

               

             The second limb of yoga is observances(Niyama) and includes non-hoarding. If the freedom I felt backpacking hadn’t rid me of hoarding habits, my impromptu move to Dallas did. I suddenly possessed only the contents of the backseat of a small SUV. I was so withdrawn that most of what I owned lacked any semblance of sentimental value.  

It took a few months for me to unpack non-essentials. My best friend made a keep sake box my junior year; I opened the lid with hesitation. I blamed my worst qualities for the changes that separated then from now. One at a time I connected myself to moments captured in photographs. I rifled through faded tickets from concerts, sporting events, and movies I hadn’t remembered attending.

Most of the photos are now pinned to my wall. Until four o’clock today I proudly claimed the remaining contents of that keepsake box as the only items in my room not intended for regular use. As usually happens when I get an idea for my next post, God appeared with an authenticity challenge. Today he came in the form of my mother lovingly presenting me with another huge box of clothes from storage. So a night of overthinking awaits wrestling and prioritizing memories tied to the sundress I haven’t seen since a first date and the “hot” outfit I never wore even though my friends helped me pick it out.

      At some point I decided against being a psychologist, so if your level of skepticism requires statistical and experimental detail I strongly recommend you read Kahneman’s Thinking Fast and Slow for yourself. As a substitute yoga teacher and amateur blogger, I feel obligated to share one such experiment in which half a sample of participants was given coffee mugs. The price endowed participants reported for their university mug was higher on average than the value given by their mugless counterparts.

Most reading this didn’t need an illustration; we know we can be risk averse to the point of forfeiting potential gains. Risks can be unreasonable and loss is painful on a physiological level, but studies like this clearly show our cultural tendency to avoid even reasonable exchanges once we have considered something to be ours. Economic uncertainty certainly plays into my hoard of choice- stinginess; however research, including but not limited to Kahneman and his team's, demonstrates that experienced traders are less risk-adverse. 

Ideally a restrained yogi would be so rooted that the illusion of possession would lose its appeal, surrendering to the inevitable ebb and flow of wealth. Kahneman encourages us to adopt a less attached approach in our thinking as well. “How much do I want to have this mug, compared with the other things I could have instead?” We see probabilities more clearly without the emotional pressure of potential loss, clarity improves decision making, and confidence in our own decisions is the most reliable insurance policy.