tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58490869829322112492024-03-05T00:14:19.383-05:00Life, Yoga, and Living Yoga-yspringhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05528592205607450376noreply@blogger.comBlogger214125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-43625683996249161392024-01-07T21:29:00.004-05:002024-01-07T22:22:23.586-05:00choosing again<p>this blogpost was written for someone close to me--as a way to inspire them in their own recovery. sending prayers that it ignites something for you.</p><p>I had an eating disorder before I knew that I had an eating disorder. And then, at some point, I had to admit that I had an eating disorder–to myself and to people around me. That first admission, in 2005, was the beginning of my recovery, but not nearly the most important step. I started going to therapy as soon as I made that admission –which was the day after the first time I made myself throw up. But even though I could admit that I had an eating disorder, I didn't yet want to get better. So the therapy didn’t do much except act as a front (“see? I’m doing something about it!”). </p><p>Something about the eating disorder was familiar, which I could interpret as comforting, safe, and helpful. And so it seemed to be serving a purpose in my life. And it wasn’t TOTALLY ruling my life: my eating disorder and I were living in what appeared to be harmony. It was years before I would decide that I didn't want to live life according to my eating disorder’s rules (and there were a lot of them!). And when I decided that I wanted to change; that I wanted to be in charge instead of my eating disorder; that I wanted to get better–that’s when my eating disorder started fading into the background. </p><p>The first person that presented my eating disorder to me as something that I was actively “choosing” was Elena Brower–a yoga teacher that I was doing some life coaching with. She told me that I needed to realize it was a “choice” to continue with my eating disorder, rather than the passive way I was thinking its control over me. I had a lot of resistance to seeing my eating disorder in this way: I had some training in psychology, and I knew that eating disorders were considered diagnosable mental health illnesses. But it was also true that by referring to my eating disorder in this way, I was giving up any perceived control in the healing process. So, I decided to try something different. I began to think of my eating disorder as something I was actively choosing in my life. </p><p>I was choosing to do an extra workout instead of seeing my friend for dinner.<br />I was choosing to binge and purge over taking a bath and relaxing. <br />I was choosing to re-count my calories over and over instead of meditating. </p><p>Each little choice added up. Each little decision became another decision that amounted to something that was actively destroying my life. But it was hard to see–sure I had finished my PhD and was accomplishing a lot at work. Sure, I was in a relationship and had close friends. So the costs seemed small, but they added up too: the hours I spent binging and purging could have been more productivity, or more sleep, or more intimate connections with people in my life. The countless hours I spent over-exercising took tolls on my body and my relationships. And the mental gymnastics I did around calorie intake/output meant that I had no brain-space to create, to manifest, to dream, or to just be at peace in my life. </p><p>I could deny the destruction because it was in small doses.<br />I could deny it because I didn't know what my life looked like without it. </p><p>But there was one thing I couldn't deny–if my eating disorder was allowed to be unchecked, I would die from it–and that was one choice I wasn't willing to make. But, as long as it seemed to be relatively in check, I allowed it to coexist with me. Then, in late 2012, when my husband announced he was moving out, I heard a loud alarm reverberate through my body. His presence in my home had acted as a boundary for my eating disorder: it couldn’t take over as long as I had to pretend to be normal in front of him. But, without him there, there would be no containment–I knew that my eating disorder would be able to take over. And that I could potentially die in effect. </p><p>And that’s the first time I decided to choose again. I thought, “Actually, I'm not ready to die. I don’t want to binge and purge myself to death.” and so that week I showed up to therapy with a new attitude: one that said, “I want to get better, for real… because I want to LIVE.” </p><p>It was almost alarmingly easy to recover from my eating disorder once I decided to. One at a time, I peeled away layers of my eating disorder: I quit binging and purging; I quit over-exercising; I quit keeping track of calorie intake/expenditure; I quit forcing myself to run everyday; I quit the rules I had around food… eventually, the eating disorder became more of a ghost that would occasionally drop by to haunt me. </p><p>And sure, those things took effort–they took determination. But I had determination in spades–the amount of energy it took to engage with my eating disorder every day was actually more than it took to pull myself away from it. And the effects of choosing recovery have been far more worth it than the alternative. </p><p>Deciding to recover–actively making the choice that I wanted to live–was the hardest thing I have ever done. It took me seven years from the admission that I had an eating disorder to make that choice. But once I realized that it WAS a choice, it was also the easiest thing I have ever done.
</p>springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-67807555921458324052022-09-19T23:09:00.009-04:002022-09-19T23:11:30.034-04:00Lavender Graduation Speech<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">in the spring i was invited to give the lavender graduation speech for CUNY School of Public Health. i had no idea what to say, and i had not idea how to start to say it. i am bi (or pan) sexual, i'm poly, and i didn't feel LGBTQ+ enough to deliver the speech. but i did it, and i'm pretty proud of the outcome. i wanted to share it here to motivate/inspire, but also to help others find ideas when writing their speeches. (yes i googled and couldn't find anything helpful LOL) <br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">*********** </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br />Good evening CUNY School of Public Health graduates, faculty, staff, and loved ones. I’m going to start off tonight with my main premise: this graduation speech is all about the importance of your bravery. And, before I say anything else, I want to say that I am SO honored to be here giving this speech today. When forced to put myself in a box, I identify as pansexual and polyamorous, but I have a history of feeling like I’m just not queer enough. As if I haven’t experienced ENOUGH discrimination or lack of support to really wear the rainbow badge. Even though I know that this is not logical, the experiences of many of my friends–either out in the world or from their own families–let me know how lucky I have been in this area of my life. But, despite my fears about giving this speech, I am going to take my own advice and be brave. <br /><br />I want to start by backing up a little and looking at the history and importance of the “lavender” in our “lavender graduation.” Lavender is a color that symbolically stands up to the oppressor, in the bravest of fashions. The Nazis used pink triangles to designate gay men and black triangles to designate lesbian women; the LGBTQ civil rights movement has combined these; thus, lavender was born as a symbol of brave pride. <br /><br />And the importance of the lavender graduation is to recognize all of the courageousness it has taken for each of you to make it here, to this moment, today. <br /><br />Historically, we know that LGBTQ people have had to work harder than their straight/cis counterparts to achieve the same successes in life. Last week my dad, who was in the US Air Force for over 20 years, shared a story with me about a friend of his who was dismissed from the Air Froce in the 90s with 18 years of exemplary service –for being gay, which means he was not eligible for any benefits or retirement. It is systemic prejudice that creates policies such as “Don’t Ask/Don’t Tell” and “Don’t Say Gay” that have caused thousands of stories like this, creating the backdrop of our lavender graduation today. <br /><br />I considered including a portion of the speech about how hate driven violence is a public health problem, and bringing in some shocking and depressing statistics, but I know that each of you have lived these statistics in your own ways. So, instead, I will forge ahead with the bravery I am entrusting you with. <br /><br /><br />My first big ask to you is to be visible: to be visible even when it feels scary. To be visible even when it feels hard. I went to Penn State in the late 90s and early 2000s. I didn’t know one “out” professor or staff member. Actually, I only knew one friend who was out publicly–all the others were only out to their closest friends. And the lack of visibility of LGBTQ faculty and staff contributed to the students’ invisibility. <br /><br />To illustrate the importance of visibility, I’ll share the story of one of my dear friends. This friend had always dated men, and into his mid 30s, he always thought he would still settle down with a woman to have a family. I supported him in his life, without questioning the thought processes behind this. Just a few months ago, he came to me with a revelation. He had been on vacation and had met a gay couple who had a child. And it wasn’t until THAT moment that he realized that his gayness and his desire for a child could co-exist in his life. It was the visibility of this couple that gave him the understanding that the combination of his desires was not just possible, but that he could live a life he hadn’t even dared to dream he could live. <br /><br /><i>Looking forward: the future is queer.</i><br />And so next, I want to say thank you. Thank you to every LGBTQ person and every brave and outspoken ally who has come before us. Thank you for the road you have laid for us. <br /><br />And our job now is to pave the way for those to come. I know you might be thinking, “Spring, I can’t always be as brave as you might want me to be” and to that I say, Yeah, sometimes bravery is saving your own life. But keep looking for opportunities to be brave. <br /><br />In my academic career I have had people tell me to sit down and shut up (though not always in those words) about my eating disorder, my sexuality, my relationships, and the importance of antiracism. I have been threatened with not being re-hired and have been told I would not get tenure if I continued to sound alarms and fight for change. But I think you know what my response has been to this advice. <br /><br />I charge you with designing safer spaces–look for every opportunity to implement policy changes and educational programming for the existence and FLOURISHING of LGBTQ people in the places you live and work. And be visible while you do it. Be your full self, even when it feels scary. Remember the bravery of those that have come before us, and think of those that will come after us to help fire up your own bravery. And then… just keep showing up and being your FUCKING FABULOUS SELVES. <br /><br /><br /></span><br />springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-67270442549187811242022-09-08T00:36:00.001-04:002022-09-08T00:37:10.447-04:00toxic breakups over two decades<p>i'm going through a bad breakup. and it feels SOOOOO HORRIBLE. so horrible that i feel like there's no way i could survive it. then i was like, also, <b>i've been through this before</b>. </p><p>i don't just mean i've been through a breakup before; i don't just mean i've been through a bad breakup before. actually, i've been through SO MANY bad breakups and almost every breakup with a man i had a significant relationship with has been absolutely horrible. and by horrible i mean toxic and abusive.</p><p> <<here i would like to insert both a trigger warning and a disclaimer. i feel terrified to write this--anxious about further retribution and simultaneously worried that i will be judged or labeled based on these experiences. and i feel nervous to put it all down in one place, to see the reality of the breakup abuse i've suffered... but that probably just means i <i>need</i> to write about it.>><br /></p><p>i know most of you know about the revenge porn ex--who, as we broke up, posted intimate images and videos of me along with my contact details so that i was harassed by strangers regularly for a year. but he was only one in a long line of men who did not handle the break up process with grace. here is a list of things different men (all that i dated for over a year) have done as we were breaking up: ghosted me as a way of breaking up a several year relationship (no response to text, calls, or emails); moved out of our home and the country without telling me; told me to take plan B days after we were intentionally trying to get pregnant; and THREE different men have stalked me--showing up at my home, showing up while i was on dates, waiting for me to arrive places they knew i would go.</p><p>i would say that for the most part these men were well-adjusted and mentally healthy men... until we broke up. but during the breakups, each of these men felt that they could treat me however they
wanted--without regard for me as an equal human being. they showed
sexual aggression, entitlement, low empathy, and they attempted to exert
control over me.</p><p>i'm not writing this for pity or advice or support. i'm writing this so we fucking stop pretending like toxic masculinity is not a real problem that is causing real trauma in people's lives. a problem that we need to be having big, constant, conversations about. a problem that we need to stand up to. <br /></p><p>i feel sad, overwhelmed, and depressed right now. but, to facilitate change, i hope more of us can share our toxic experiences in safe ways--sharing these experiences takes them out of the shadows and brings light to the problem. and i'd love for us all to emphasize and continue to work to normalize healthy masculinity in our lives. because i believe that all of our ripples can work together to start to change the tide. and i <i>have</i> to put energy into this, because i can't go through this again. <br /></p><p><br /></p>springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-87446051506046451342022-07-17T22:09:00.006-04:002022-07-17T22:23:23.107-04:00“Mia” —performed for “You are not alone” on 7/17/22You know what the worst part is of telling someone that you have an eating disorder? It’s not the assumptions, it’s not the pity, it’s not even the “oh, of course you do, you’re a bisexual millennial” tropes. It’s the way that your confidant will look you– up and down– and respond with “but you have a great body!”
<br> <br>
I’ve taste-tested a little of every eating disorder. As if eating disorders were fancy chocolates and I just had to take a little nibble off of each one to know which I really wanted to sink my teeth into. But the bulimia chocolate was the siren calling to me. And yes, I ate boxes and boxes of those chocolates, just to throw them all up. <br> <br>
People with eating disorders have a myriad of metaphors for their eating disorders–personalizing them seems to give us some type of comfort. Or maybe it isn’t so much comfort we’re after, but a way of convincing ourselves that the eating disorders aren’t vile death traps that we are willingly exploring. A common nickname for bulimia is “Mia,” which makes this addictive, self-destructive, lonely, avoidant set of behaviors sound like the cute and super hip young woman with blue hair that lives in the brownstone next door. Naturally, Mia and I became fast friends. <br> <br>
As I began to craft this essay for y’all, I felt some fears creep up: what if I make eating disorders sound glamorous to others and they want to take Mia out for a spin (because I certainly was obsessively in love with her for a dozen or so years)?... or what if I remind myself of Mia’s sexy side and I want to ask her over?… just for a one night stand, of course. <br> <br>
And so, to counteract my fears, I offer you the reality of what bulimia was, for me: I wake up at 6am to go for a 6 mile run on an empty stomach. I grab a coffee, as breakfast, on the way into my PhD-student desk. I work until lunch, by which time I will be starved, but I only allow myself to eat a salad. I work until 4, and then eat a 90 calorie granola bar on the way to the gym where I teach 1 –or 2– fitness classes, and probably hit the gym afterward. I ignore my friends’ invites for a drink, citing the work I need to get done on my dissertation, and head home, stopping at a grocery store on the way.
<br> <br>
A grocery store that I have on rotation–since I don’t want to be seen at a grocery store more than once or twice a week… and I need more food every night. I limit myself to $20 dollars worth of food to binge, because I cannot afford how much food I want to eat and throw up each day.
<br> <br>
I shamefully pack the groceries and head back to my house, already drinking part of the 2L of diet soda and scarfing down the carrots I bought. Diet soda because the more liquid I consume, the easier the food will be to come up; carrots because they are bright orange and will signify to me, as I'm throwing up, that I've hit the end of the food in my stomach.
<br> <br>
As soon as I’m home, I sit in front of the tv and eat all of the food I have purchased, as fast as I can, which usually means a couple bags of groceries in an hour, which is too much food to eat at once, and it makes my stomach stick out so far that it looks like I’m actually pregnant with this food baby and the baby kicks and causes intensely sharp jabs of pain.
<br> <br>
Then, it’s time to throw up all the food. As I walk toward the bathroom I am afraid–what if I can’t get it all up? What if I purge so hard I pop a blood vessel? What if my teeth hit my knuckles with too much velocity and deepen the cuts that are already there?
<br> <br>
But these fears are never enough to stop the process, and I begin sticking fingers down my throat. There are days when my fingers are not enough and I resort to a plastic bag. These days tears are streaming down my face as I purge. There is a constant process of examining everything that comes up, to try to remember how much more food is still to come, and then washing my hands to get the half chewed food off of them before sticking them back down my throat. I rinse my mouth obsessively between each purge in an effort to slow down the accelerated tooth decay I’m creating. The purging usually takes as long as the binging did–about an hour, and I’m left feeling exhausted, depleted, and ashamed at the end.
<br> <br>
I brush my teeth thoroughly and stumble into my bed, promising myself that I will not do this again tomorrow, but knowing that I probably will. And then I wake, at 6am, dehydrated and depressed, and begin it all over again.
<br> <br>
So, you may be thinking, Mia sounds like a real bitch–why were you so obsessed with her? The best way I can explain it is that she’s like that toxic ex you have that you just can’t seem to get out from under. An ex that texts you every fucking day. An ex that you’re reminded of EVERYWHERE you go. An ex that seems like they might leave you alone for a day, which only serves to make them more attractive.
<br> <br>
And it is somehow easy to be seduced–over and over again. And the worst part is, you know that bitch Mia is out there fooling around with SO MANY OTHER people–getting them to fall for her same old shitty lines.
<br> <br>
Which is fucking bullshit.
<br> <br>
And we need to talk about her–out loud. Because it’s in the silence that toxic relationships take over your life.
<br> <br>
When I started going to art therapy, the first of many tools that eventually helped me claw my way out of Mia’s arms, I met an older woman who had anorexia and a young mother who had bulimia. I remembered thinking to myself, “oh, yeah, one day I’ll be a mother with bulimia; one day I’ll be an older woman with anorexia.” Not because that’s what I wanted necessarily, but because I could see no way out: I didn’t know anyone who had recovered from an eating disorder.
<br> <br>
But, once I decided I WANTED to let go of Mia, my tool box expanded and suddenly I began to chip away at the fake news living in my head. Through art therapy, practicing embodied movement like yoga and dance, and by processing through blogging and other forms of writing, I did find my way out of this decade long love affair. And, so, today, at least 5 years since any fingers, or, well, any of my fingers, have been in my mouth, I am so proud to stand here, smile, and say, "Mia who?"
springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-64609235006666299192022-01-28T01:42:00.000-05:002022-01-28T01:42:01.938-05:00deep love/grief ocean<p>i'm swimming. barely. but finally i've been able to take a breath. <br /></p><p>i still can't really admit to myself that tobias is dead. when i talk about him, i use confusing verbs so that it is not clear that his physical form is no longer walking around on this earth. i say things like "he was living in london," "we've been dating for 3 years." my mouth just can't form the words that actively refer to him in the past tense. (and so, dear reader, please accept some occasional present tense verbs.) </p><p>my metaphor for my grief is one of an ocean--the waves beating me down and holding me
under for days at a time. and then there's a moment where the waves
subside and i swim up. i breathe. i feel the sun. i even float for a
moment, wondering how i could have forgotten that this was even possible
for me. and then, in a second, without warning, i'm slipping back
under. or i'm pulled by an undertow, and, even though it's scary, by now
it's familiar. and something about that feels comforting as i am pulled
back under. i think "i knew it was too good to be true, that i could
be coming out from under this overwhelm." and, simultaneously i know
that i don't actually want to come out from under it--some days i <i>choose</i> to dive into the depths of my grief. because i don't
want to forget tobias or his love in my life. i don't want to be "all
better" because that might mean that i can't feel his presence here with
me any longer. <br /></p><p>in the days when i hadn't heard from him and hadn't heard confirmation of what had happened to him yet (i know, i know, vague language here), i felt him with me so strongly. and in the days following, i continued to feel him around me, especially when i was moving energy through dance. and my fear of losing that became so intense. i felt like if i acknowledged the reality of the situation, the feeling of him dancing and twirling around with me would dissolve. my therapist suggested that i could ask him if he was planning to leave. and when i asked him, he laughed, "babes! i know how strong your fear of abandonment is! i would never!" <br /></p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiJm2nvqyjiIaVWlaBJ8W5VxibK9cbsz16iiSbInub1TYu-PD1mVyo-G65ATNr2IbVUtFT6pwV-hAOv3ojnjEvIfnDTqt3QjEmJWeoii0zHD4nUXDdv7tdlyvHb9zL_pLJgQpkLMFXskhgnSMc6WT6Ei2Qq31eMG8B_70XX_j9g-UBpfhE-VxfD9VgjRQ=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiJm2nvqyjiIaVWlaBJ8W5VxibK9cbsz16iiSbInub1TYu-PD1mVyo-G65ATNr2IbVUtFT6pwV-hAOv3ojnjEvIfnDTqt3QjEmJWeoii0zHD4nUXDdv7tdlyvHb9zL_pLJgQpkLMFXskhgnSMc6WT6Ei2Qq31eMG8B_70XX_j9g-UBpfhE-VxfD9VgjRQ=w240-h320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>summer, 2019</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>and it's true. he wouldn't. we have a beautiful story. our first date at disney world; the cross-atlantic love that stayed alive over distance and pandemics; the concerts, museums, theme parks, and shows that we went to; our hours-long internet dates; our shared love for tragic american chain restaurants; how he listened to every episode of my podcast and then wanted to talk about them; and his amazing ability to support me objectively and compassionately at every turn. <br /></p><p>when i went to tobias in tears, i would ask "do you have capacity to listen to what's upsetting me right now?" which he had taught me, through modelling: his operationalization of consent was beautiful to learn from. and, somehow, he always was able to make room for me. whether he was with other partners or friends, or whether it was in the middle of the night for him, he would give me non-judgemental, inclusive, and gentle advice about a colleague or a partner or a friend. and i never wanted to defy his advice, because it was so honest, from the heart, and always in my best interest. i feel like i don't know how to live in the world without this; his love is the most un-selfish i've ever experienced. </p><p>and so how do i move on without his support? how do i focus enough to accomplish anything efficiently --ever again? a colleague recently suggested that i focus on doing the work that he could help me with--that i could ask his energy/spirit to collaborate with me. and so, today, i asked him to help me write something. to help support my processing, as he always would.</p><p>so i'm trusting tobias. i'm trusting my network. (i'm so grateful for all the people in my life who have supported and continue to support my grief.) and i keep searching for the help i know he is still offering me. i search, i ask, i cry, i wait. and
occasionally the universe serves me little nuggets of magic. a recent
radiolab
episode played tape of a man that lost his fiance at a young age; he was
lamenting
his lost future with his partner. some words that he received that
resonated with me were: <br /></p><p>"...grief is a form of praise. you
are praising the wonder of the person you lost. the great pain you are
feeling means great love." </p><p>and wow is my love/pain great. </p><p>i have this text convo with him from when one of his close friends committed suicide in late 2018. he said to me: "I just realised that like any of us could die and people would be sad for a few days and then forget we even existed. And our friends would talk and phone for a few days and it would bring them together and then they would go back to normal life." i responded "your actions and words have ripples throughout the world. the world is forever changed because you're in it." and god. i just want tobias to know how untrue his words were. </p><p>i am changed because of you, tobias. i am better because of your support and love. and that lives on in me: in my relationships, in my work, in my podcast, and obviously in my wardrobe of disney paraphernalia. i promise to never forget you. <br /></p>and i promise to try to keep swimming, even on the days where diving under the water feels easier or safer. <br /><p><br /></p>springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-64913478323705491272021-06-14T19:24:00.006-04:002022-09-08T00:37:48.227-04:00the necessity of trauma (and support)<p><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">we went camping to get me out of my head: to re-wire the tapes that had been on loop in my head for the past week. </span></span></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(69, 69, 69);"><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">after setting up camp, sarah and i started into the woods with a good attitude, excited to hike up a mountain and feel the sun on our skin and the fresh air feeding our lungs and souls. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">half a mile up, the official trail disappeared and we started fighting our way through the forest, trying to stay as close as possible to the red line alltrails had on our gps and each putting one foot in front of the other, though we couldn’t see our feet most of the time. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">approximately 12 times we had to make the same decision: continue forward on a very difficult and uncomfortable path, or turn around (knowing we had already come so far through terrible landscape). each time we chose to continue forward, hopeful that what was around the next bend would be improved from the current condition. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf41pq_Guwrf0edejWZh0aZUrZ7pesPpfOgNuEIdv6qJ9zE9d1kwbDHKTPqIv6U67OAcyyJn9aIje6vV6I-BrQKgEk9-AG9T97gXIlCAQVAPL1DKyhGEnx4pvP-PKie-GoB1bhx6t-xK1I/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf41pq_Guwrf0edejWZh0aZUrZ7pesPpfOgNuEIdv6qJ9zE9d1kwbDHKTPqIv6U67OAcyyJn9aIje6vV6I-BrQKgEk9-AG9T97gXIlCAQVAPL1DKyhGEnx4pvP-PKie-GoB1bhx6t-xK1I/" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">but each time it got worse: more brush, more mud, more stinging plants swishing at our legs, terribly steep descents with no holds, a river without a crossing (built or natural)… and each time we thought, “but, still, it can’t get worse than THIS!”</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">simultaneously we were in a competition with daylight, moving so slowly through the difficult terrain: each of us sure we could make it out, and each of us knowing we had to keep going if we wanted to beat the sun. so many times we would look at each other, nod, smile, make a joke, and keep going. because we had to. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">each of us had a moment where we were just one shortened breath away from a panic attack: i felt mine coming on about 3/5 of the way through the hike as i realized how slowly we were making progress and felt the sunlight quickly fading. i felt the panic so close to my heart and looked at sarah and just said “i’m taking some deep breaths.” i knew that i had to stay calm for both of us, so i focused on breathing deeply. there was a point on a steep descent, (one of those decisions where we looked at each other, committed, and then kept going) where sarah paused and i could tell she was at the door of panic. i paused where i was and calmly told her i was there, we were making progress, and that i had faith in us. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">we made it—it was a crazy hike, but we made it. together. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">several times throughout the hike we joked (though seriously) that we were glad we were on this hike together and not with other people—we were both able to keep hope, positive spirits, and confidence in ourselves.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">every experience is a mirror. and these woods literally slapped us in the face with the metaphors of our lives. i felt the gravity of the situation and how important it was that every time we made a decision, we fully committed to it. we didn’t re-think our options over and over, or question what path we took. because we couldn’t afford to.</span></span></div></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(69, 69, 69);"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(69, 69, 69);"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">and yet with hindsight, and more information, we would have made different choices. we would have turned around at several points, if we had known what it was that actually lied ahead. </span></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(69, 69, 69);"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(69, 69, 69);"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">so is the lesson to turn back when things are very very hard? or just to make the best decision you can with the current information? maybe neither. maybe it’s just that we can do fucking hard things when we are well supported. </span></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(69, 69, 69);"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(69, 69, 69);"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">as this frightening and yet still enjoyable (thank you, sarah!!) experience is settling in my body this afternoon, i listened to an episode of radio lab where the hosts reflected on the necessity of trauma, in relation to being born: “the deeply traumatic act of coming into existence… the severity and harshness of it force you to adapt in order to survive.” </span></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(69, 69, 69);"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(69, 69, 69);"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">that seemed to help it all click for me. because no matter what choices we make, there will be things in life that are H-A-R-D —and we never really know what will happen in the other multiverse once we make a decision and splinter off into this one. so it is really our amazing ability as humans to continue to adapt that serves us. and i 100% believe that it is the support we build in our lives that helps us thrive through adapting after a trauma—whether the trauma is itty bitty or HUGE. </span></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(69, 69, 69);"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(69, 69, 69);"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">so thank you sarah for taking me camping. we found our way through the woods together and we keep proving that we can def find our ways through this life. </span></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(69, 69, 69);"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(69, 69, 69);"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">and thank you universe for both the trauma and the support so i can keep evolving. </span></span></div>springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-51897706030305793092020-01-27T00:43:00.001-05:002020-01-27T00:44:42.941-05:00*OUCH!!* i'm not sure where i learned to hide all of my hurt from the person who hurt me, but i'm going to go on record as saying that it is a highly maladaptive response. i'm pretty sure i've always done this; i can't remember a time where i fully expressed to someone how much their actions hurt me. don't get me wrong; i don't totally avoid the topic: i tell people when i'm hurt. but i don't share to what extent i am hurt nor later communicate to them that i'm still hurting. i was doing what i thought was healthy: i thought i was processing my part of it.<br />
<br />
but i wasn't. and it wasn't ok. <br />
<br />
which is generally how i operate: do things that i think are working until they are SO NOT WORKING that i cannot continue existing if i do not address them.<br />
<br />
so my world crumbled. which was partially my fault, because someone didn't know that they were continuing to hurt me so much. and then, after i was sitting in the rubble, i realized that not communicating the hurt i had been trying to process alone hadn't been working out for me.<br />
<br />
with nothing to lose, i decided to tell this person about all of the hurt i had been harboring for so long. and, to be honest, i still don't really know how that landed. but that isn't the important part of this story, because the future is not something i can control.<br />
<br />
what <b>is</b> important is what happened to me after i fully expressed myself (even the things that i thought i would be judged for saying, even the things i thought were so utterly ridiculous to say out loud). i don't want to exaggerate or anything, but EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE SHIFTED FOR THE BETTER. it's been four days and the rewards are not yet diminishing. <br />
<br />
i feel fully centered; i feel fully in my power. i have since communicated other difficult things i had been avoiding; i sent emails and checked messages i hadn't wanted to deal with; i haven't gotten annoyed by people on the train; i have been able to be fully present without that hurt constantly running the background story of my mind; i have had several truly genuine and authentic connections with others.<br />
<br />
and i had to think to myself: why on earth did i think i couldn't share this hurt with this person? what the hell did i think i was controlling? because, looking back over my adult life, i know that trying to control and protect myself from life's unwanted outcomes has never worked. and, post every earthquake, there is new space for something beautiful and unexpected to grow.<br />
<br />
my divorce created room for me to heal from years of eating disorders, a rape created the space for me to abandon alcohol and the depression it fostered, and the continuing trauma of revenge porn has built resilience and given me the ability to stand up for others who are not able to do so for themselves. <br />
<br />
so thank god i can't control the outcomes. and thank god i can learn and evolve and grow. i'm here, watching new greenery sprouting through the cracked foundation, vowing to stay true to my full expression of myself. the endless worries i had about what cascade of consequences would come after communicating my hurts seem silly now. <br />
<br />
earlier tonight the following line was said on the new season of <i>sex education</i>: "you have to let the people you love know that you love them, even if it causes you a great deal of pain." and i heard, "you have to let the people who have caused you pain know that they have caused you pain, because that will allow you to really feel love." otherwise you're just pretending: at life and love. springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-43790055198670266102019-01-22T17:48:00.000-05:002019-01-22T17:48:18.630-05:00moving toward clarity there is an overused quote that i find completely ridiculous: "the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results." because guess what--this isn't even possible. the context is ALWAYS different. <i>as if</i> we could repeat something exactly as it was done before, in any sense. <br />
<br />
however, one of my favorite quotes is: "repetition is the key to clarity." it was something another yoga teacher heard in a workshop and passed on in a yoga class i was attending. now, <i>that's </i>a quote to learn something from.<br />
<br />
in yoga, we do the same poses, the same vinyasa, the same mantras, and the same breathwork over and over. and, if we're paying attention, each time we learn something new; we grow. <br />
<br />
we move toward clarity.<br />
<br />
we begin to understand our physical selves better, our metaphorical edges, and how we inhabit our bodies. <br />
<br />
repetition as a tool for learning in our lives is an interesting concept. responding the same way to every argument with a friend or partner, for example, teaches us something, whether our response is effective or not. if we observe, maybe we learn that our response is something we utilize in order to protect ourselves; maybe we learn that in differing times of stress, the response is accepted differently. to really move forward, though, we have to be able to absorb as much information as possible at each time point.<br />
<br />
it's that observation and awareness that we consistently try to develop through our yoga and meditation practices. the more we burn through, the closer we get to that internal point of stillness that allows us to see our lives and relationships with clarity.<br />
<br />
and that's the real reason i practice yoga and meditation. because woah. that clarity, in the bits and pieces i keep finding it, is the balm to life's insanity. springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-60019129253732682352019-01-10T19:00:00.000-05:002019-01-10T19:00:11.095-05:00beats, heart
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
being alone is better with you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I fit next to you. you fit into me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
we lay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>we
dream.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>when the sun comes up, you’re
looking at me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
your eyes; my eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>your smile; my smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>like
spring.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
beats.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
what the fuck do you think love is?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>you don’t know.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
suppose I never met you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>freedom.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
freedom?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>freedom’s
just another word for nothing left to lose.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
wake up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>WAKE UP.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
beats.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
would you have listened to you? you were crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I cry because I know.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
the worst part is, there’s no one else to blame.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
but still, I don’t want you to leave.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.5in; text-indent: .5in;">
will you hold my
hand?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
beats.beats.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
glasses of champagne on the dance floor.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
beats.beats.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
it fills my head up and gets louder.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
beats.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
nothing ever stays wrong that long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I look up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I look </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>forward.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
your shadow <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>recedes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I glow. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
I reflect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wish you love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
you have to believe we are magic.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-indent: .5in;">
beats. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.0in; text-indent: .5in;">
beats.</div>
springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-32209545926049382842018-08-30T23:58:00.000-04:002018-08-30T23:58:45.646-04:00exposed//rebuildi will never again hear the word "exposed" <br />
without cringing <br />
without feeling a sense of dread<br />
without sensing my defense mechanism kick in<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>i run to relieve stress<br />
i listen to loud music on my iphone<br />
i run far past the rock sculptures<br />
i keep going</i>
<br />
<br />
<br />
i will never again approve message requests from strangers<br />
without fear of being called a stupid cunt<br />
without expecting to see my own nudes<br />
accompanied by strangers telling me how i helped them cum<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>i run to escape<br />
i leave my phone behind<br />
it has become a device of torture <br />
i stop when i see two rock sculptures that look like a couple</i><br />
<br />
<br />
i will never again wonder whether i can cry for 8 hours straight<br />
my privacy no longer exists<br />
i've been repeatedly assaulted<br />
by someone who loved me; by strangers<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>i run to move through my emotions<br />
i look forward to the rock couple<br />
they give me hope but<br />
all of the rock sculptures have been dismantled by a vandal</i><br />
<br />
<br />
i will never again doubt my resilience<br />
my strength<br />
my power<br />
my ability to move forward<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>i run to prove my strength and determination<br />
to myself<br />
i run by the rock sculpture creator<br />
he is rebuilding--the morning after destruction</i><br />
<br />
<br />
he has not missed a beat<br />
as i press play on a new playlist
springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-72510511878225065042018-04-06T18:58:00.000-04:002018-04-19T14:45:59.536-04:00otg (off the grid)<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been off the grid for 5 days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I like to chant “OTG! OTG!”) I was a little
afraid my life would fall apart while I was “gone,” and maybe it did a little
bit: my gmail is apparently full and refusing emails, and who knows what else. I admit that makes me
anxious; I’m not sure who might not try to re-contact me once I purge my email
inbox.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, I suppose I can look at the
bright side: that also means I have a few less emails to wade through upon
re-entry. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Before this experiment, I tried smaller ones: in the past
couple of months I have regularly been doing two hours without my phone while
going for a run and then stopping by the grocery store on the way home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not relying on my phone for entertainment
while running and to remind me of my shopping list give me a sense of independence
I didn’t know I missed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, when I get
back from these little excursions, I often am not overly excited to look at my
phone. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, when I turned my phone off for the past several days, I
expected to enjoy the freedom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I
also thought I would miss the ease my phone offers: both emotionally and
logistically. And I think I did at first. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the first day or so, there were moments when I was
waiting in line, or for a menu, where I instinctively wanted to grab my phone
and scroll Instagram.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were times when
I got back to my room and automatically thought “oh I need to check and see who
has texted since I was last with my phone.” There were instances when I wanted
to know the answer to something quickly and wanted to immediately turn to
Google.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then sometimes I’d almost
reach to carry my phone with me “just in case.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After a day, though, these urges began to fade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a relief to not have to carry my
phone, or to have to check on its charge. The autonomy I had felt on my
two-hour trial periods increased exponentially: I didn’t need my phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, more notably, I didn’t want it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I connected more deeply both with my best friend I was
spending time with and the strangers I encountered each day; I listened to them
more because I was never phone-distracted or even pre-phone-distracted (when
I’m wondering what might be happening on my phone). <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I noticed more things around me in the world
because I was never ever looking down at a screen. And, when I wasn’t engaged
with other people, I found myself meditating, which, over a few days, gave me a
deeper sense of peace then I’ve been able to maintain for the past couple of
months. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I never felt bored.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
never felt lonely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As the end of the five days approached, I started to dread
re-connecting. I tried not to waste any energy thinking about my worries, but I did brainstorm ways to stay as disconnected as possible once I returned. When I first started dating the man I married, in 2007, he used to leave his mobile phone at home during the day: he said it "lived" there. I remember being angry at him; wanting to be able to text him to arrange things mid-day. But now, in a totally different world, I see the appeal and plan to leave my phone at home as often as possible. And so, now, as I am moments away from turning my phone
back on, I find myself only slightly terrified of the other side. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
**24 hours later**<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Turns out there was a disaster waiting for me. But, like one of my best friends said, wasn't it better to have the space away for a few days, since the disaster would've been their either way? (Yes.) I'm pretty sure I was much better equipped to deal with it after my time away anyway. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh, and you can email me again. JIC you're one of those emails I missed! 😂 </div>
springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-52493629622164016492018-01-24T17:29:00.000-05:002018-01-24T17:29:40.180-05:00betrayal --> bloom<a href="https://i.imgur.com/QIr2PPK.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="457" data-original-width="610" height="239" src="https://i.imgur.com/QIr2PPK.png" width="320" /></a>yesterday i got on the train at 148th and got out a few minutes later at 125th. in the few moments that i was underground traveling about a mile, the weather changed. i had walked on to the train amidst sun and i walked out into heavy rain. and i felt betrayed.<br />
<br />
that betrayal is an exact replica of another area of my life right now, where i experienced a lot of warmth and then, shortly afterward, an insane storm that left me slightly ravaged. <br />
<br />
betrayal can leave you feeling detached from others, which is protective (from the person who betrayed your trust), but it is also harmful. i.e. how can i move past this and continue fostering my relationships with others while feeling so detached? <br />
<br />
i've had some version of this conversation with many many people over the past week. i've also meditated and yoga-ed myself to exhaustion, journal-ed it, art-ed it, and had it invade my subconscious and dream spaces. in other words, i've thought about it a little bit.<br />
<br />
i've practiced several techniques of severing energetic ties, practicing forgiveness and compassion, and letting myself sit with my emotions, even the detached ones. overall i feel calm; i feel like i've processed. and i can see that it is working: as walking and conducting one of the meditations, a woman who was screaming and cursing into her phone as rushing down a busy NYC street stopped dead in her tracks and looked at me. she smiled, saying "you look nice." i felt her energy shift just as i keep re-directing my own. <br />
<br />
but then there are tiny, seemingly innocuous little things throughout my day that trigger me, letting me know that i need to continue the process. to continue to trust; to continue to build; to continue to <b>bloom</b>. because really, isn't that what i naturally <i>have</i> to do? my parents gave me a name, a birthright, that seemingly demands it.<br />
<br />
yesterday in yoga felipe read us a portion of this quote by marianne williamson that further sparked my desire to stay on this path of blossoming:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is
that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness
that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant,
gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' <i>Actually, who are you not to be?</i> You are a
child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is
nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel
insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were
born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just
in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we
unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are
liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates
others.”
</blockquote>
who am i not to be in full bloom?<br />
<br />
despite the weather, despite the betrayals, who are you not to be?springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-63607108921805308932018-01-03T12:51:00.000-05:002018-01-03T12:51:08.948-05:00imprinting myself <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitf5Thes5FfbMfxF2c78j_bMSTeRkL1n11k2-L8l2JmTxzkS6Jg7NR7VFK2m84rVDxuW6hUd2zh_6mBAOgDeWIF0w4Hyh8SSsWV-35tZqVhboMG6gL2sCTUpavXi6eAa8T06rIkCW1d0yU/s1600/FullSizeRender-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="633" data-original-width="638" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitf5Thes5FfbMfxF2c78j_bMSTeRkL1n11k2-L8l2JmTxzkS6Jg7NR7VFK2m84rVDxuW6hUd2zh_6mBAOgDeWIF0w4Hyh8SSsWV-35tZqVhboMG6gL2sCTUpavXi6eAa8T06rIkCW1d0yU/s320/FullSizeRender-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
in 2018, i'm being wholeheartedly myself. imprinting myself inwardly and outwardly. being fully truthful with myself and those around me. <br />
<br />
and, as part of my "fuck the patriarchy" or maybe "fuck that old eating disordered self" or more likely "fuck YES i'm living my life FULLY!," i turned off my fitness tracking on my iphone. i even took a #nomakeupselfie of myself doing it as proof.<br />
<br />
i turned it off the afternoon of jan 2. i had told myself to turn it off 100 times, and then finally set the date of jan 1 as a goal, saying to myself "it's ok to review your full year of exercise one more time."<br />
<br />
of course i didn't need to do that. i've kept track of my exercise in one form or another since i was 10. did i really need to look at some evidence that i've beaten myself up and treated myself poorly ONE MORE TIME? no.<br />
<br />
and actually i didn't look at it. i danced all day on jan 1. it wasn't until i did a customary mileage check tuesday afternoon that i realized i hadn't turned it off yet. and so, CLICK. <br />
<br />
it felt HELLA scary to turn off the fitness tracking. "how will i know if i have run enough? how will i know if i have burned enough calories? isn't it just nice to know that i'm being healthy?" my eating disordered voice screamed excuses in the back of my mind as i calmly replied, "you don't need this to be happy. in fact, <b>this is blocking your full expression of happiness</b>."<br />
<br />
(yes, i legit said those things to myself.) and, after i told myself that, i struggled to believe it. i kept thinking i would turn it back on. i didn't know how it would feel to be totally rid of any form of tracking. this action my phone had been taking on its own seemed safe; it wasn't something i was actively doing, so i had convinced myself it was an "ok" behavior.<br />
<br />
but, realistically, i should have known how it would feel. because EVERY SINGLE TIME i shed an eating disordered behavior, i feel like i'm walking on air. i feel lighter. i feel happier. i feel my true inner self imprinting itself into the world around me; i become more unafraid.<br />
<br />
since i turned off my fitness tracking yesterday: i left my phone at my desk while walking to the printer; i left my phone in my apartment while walking to the garbage room (yes these microscopic portions of my mileage were not to be left uncounted); i left my phone charging while doing a workout; i didn't feel the urge to check and re-check my mileage instead of focusing on other things;<br />
<br />
and i felt like i could more fully disconnect from my phone. it lost its specialness, its attachment i had embedded somewhere between the battery and the phone shell.<br />
<br />
AND, OH. MY. GOD. do you know how good that feels? <i><b>how good i feel?</b></i> i taught a yoga class this morning and i felt the freedom pouring out in my teaching. afterward, a regular student told me "i love your classes; they're so different than any other class i go to" and i felt my happiness bubble. i felt that confirmation of my truths in her words.<br />
<br />
IMPRINT: my body can regulate itself; i can trust this amazing body my soul calls home.<br />
<br />
<br />springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-12715892960419424862017-12-03T21:44:00.000-05:002017-12-03T22:30:12.275-05:00what eating disorder? a week ago i was talking to someone about the history of my eating disorder. even though my eating disorder is not as impactful as it once was, there are remnants of it that still contribute to how i respond to things.<br />
<br />
the person i was talking to wanted to know when the last time i had thrown up was, and i said that throwing up was only a small piece of my eating disorder; my eating disorder has <a href="http://yogaspring.blogspot.com/2014/05/choosing-and-unchoosing-layers.html" target="_blank">multiple layers</a> to it. the most recent <a href="http://yogaspring.blogspot.com/2016/10/icarus.html" target="_blank">layer i've pulled back</a> was calorie-counting, and that was no small feat. i also mentioned that relaxing my strictness around exercise was (probably) the last layer i needed to work on... <i>and that i didn't know that i wanted/needed to work on it</i>.<br />
<br />
is it so bad that i work out every day? that i prioritize it? that i have to run before i leave for work for the day? that i feel like i need to workout to deserve the food i eat? <br />
<br />
later that night, i thought more about what i had said, and reflected on earlier layers of my eating disorder that i've since discarded. things i used to think were "fine" include: calorie counting; recording all my food and exercise; constant excessive exercise; minimal binge/purge sessions; binging but just exercising off the calories (instead of throwing up); and extreme calorie restriction. because all of those things weren't as bad as binging and purging every day (or several times a day).<br />
<br />
each time i shed a layer of the eating disorder, i am more accepting of the layer under it, thinking that i can live with this lesser version of my eating disorder. <br />
<br />
that night, as i thought about what i had said, i remembered a few days before when i accepted an invitation to help a friend with her kids on a road trip this weekend. my only bartering chip had been to ask for time to run/yoga each morning. and i thought, "why did i have to say that? was that what was really most important to me?" <br />
<br />
because i'm scared that sometimes exercise <i>is</i> the most important thing to me, here i am, saying that i don't want it to dictate my life. <br />
<br />
i don't want to stop exercising regularly; i want to live a healthy life that involves regular exercise but that doesn't revolve around it, so i brainstormed with my art therapist about what a good action step would be. she said that i should "listen to my body, and workout when i needed to."<br />
<br />
i couldn't help it; i laughed out loud when she said that. i was laughing hysterically, thinking, "that would never work!" but, as i was laughing, i realized that when people used to say that i should listen to my body, and eat when i was hungry, i had also laughed, thinking that was impossible.<br />
<br />
<b>but now that's what i do. </b><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhucK4XRj8t8-yepCriWY8xYVe1qQnbAiimO3AD6zpu_AiAgGqX55pH2uRkg39P5l5Q3Ouj3LC3s2nzptsq_-e5uInAOmte90f2NVrJRjaf83DLZIivIMBXXapgq2gdDqVafbAB0zjYFkbe/s1600/IMG_0018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhucK4XRj8t8-yepCriWY8xYVe1qQnbAiimO3AD6zpu_AiAgGqX55pH2uRkg39P5l5Q3Ouj3LC3s2nzptsq_-e5uInAOmte90f2NVrJRjaf83DLZIivIMBXXapgq2gdDqVafbAB0zjYFkbe/s320/IMG_0018.JPG" width="180" /></a>i used to ignore my body's cues around food, hit the "control" button and override what it was telling me. and now, i eat when i'm hungry. i eat what i think my body needs.<br />
<br />
therefore, i know that this new hurdle is also surmountable. so i committed: i would listen to my body about when it needed activity instead of setting rules around what must happen.<br />
<br />
this weekend, that's what i did. not only did i chill the fuck out, but i didn't force myself to restrict sleep and get up super early for workout time; i didn't demand time to exercise; i didn't freak out about getting "enough" working out in; i wasn't thinking about my workout while spending time with the girls. <br />
<br />
oh. and i felt great. <br />
***everything is possible***springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-58604935362486277832017-10-29T10:38:00.000-04:002018-01-03T18:25:33.475-05:00evolve with meeveryone knows that dating someone who is on a completely different life trajectory won't work: there has to be a basic underpinning in common to really build a life together.<br />
<br />
as i move through my life, the basis of what that is has changed. earlier on it was most important to me to have someone who had the same educational aspirations. previously it has also been important to me to build a life with a runner or person who was into fitness. while both of those things still feature on a "that'd be nice to have a in a partner" list, there's something else that has replaced my non-negotiable when referring to the person i want to build my life with.<br />
<br />
i want a partner who is a truth-seeker, who wants to evolve.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5CZJarGFNI5paK7NmfP4K2_fdRJvcqSwwm6UOlRVA-mquDFSokU7k8faXcMCIeC-1BFqhqsWFWDBR8oGnuULMF_5b36QIeUVl-qQqelNT9t3mHOEy47JpXh8LVDyDVCdwPMaWPr9fJID6/s1600/Screen+Shot+2017-10-29+at+10.51.49+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="518" data-original-width="1232" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5CZJarGFNI5paK7NmfP4K2_fdRJvcqSwwm6UOlRVA-mquDFSokU7k8faXcMCIeC-1BFqhqsWFWDBR8oGnuULMF_5b36QIeUVl-qQqelNT9t3mHOEy47JpXh8LVDyDVCdwPMaWPr9fJID6/s400/Screen+Shot+2017-10-29+at+10.51.49+AM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
there are little ways that's kept playing as important to me: i notice i'm more drawn to people who practice yoga and meditation; i am turned on by someone who has chosen to stop using excessive drugs and alcohol in their life because they don't want or need the escapism; i follow my intuition toward events that are geared toward people that share these interests. <br />
<br />
i kind of thought this was one of those "that'd be nice" items, but it has begun to scream its importance when i try to ignore it.<br />
<br />
someone i've been dating had chosen to stop drinking with me, and while they hadn't started following a spiritual path, i was impressed and inspired by their commitment. until the dedication vanished overnight: they said their motivation was only driven by me and in time we had spent apart, the desire to prioritize non-use had waned and seemingly entirely disappeared. <br />
<br />
their sharp change in attitude left me feeling deflated, and much more than i expected. i felt the disappointment magnify the more i thought about why it was important to me. it's not support in my decisions i want, it's a full and present life co-producer i yearn for. <br />
<br />
i don't expect someone who doesn't make mistakes; it's impossible not to trip along the way. but it's the design behind the life path that matters to me. and, so that i can attract that in my life, i'm stating my intention clearly and with purpose.<br />
<br />
i want someone who is present, who isn't afraid to be present, and who
craves a full connection with both me and the world around them. i want
someone who fully embodies the highest version of themselves because
that's what <i>they</i> want for their life. springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-86212930996284095622017-10-05T23:46:00.000-04:002017-12-03T21:49:12.459-05:00( ) /invisible<i>me</i>: i can't go out with you that night, i already have a date.<br />
<i>some male i'm dating, let's call him jim</i>: WHAT?? YOU HAVE A DATE WITH SOMEONE ELSE? <br />
<i>me</i>: yeah, her name is sarah.<br />
<i>jim</i>: oh, hot. can you guys stop by my place after?<br />
<i>me</i>: i don't even know her; it's a first date.<br />
<i>jim</i>: send me photos if you kiss her.<br />
<i>me</i>: er, do you want to make plans with me later this weekend?<br />
<i>jim</i>: saturday morning?<br />
<i>me</i>: oh, i have yoga with george.<br />
<i>jim</i>: GEORGE? WHO IS GEORGE? IS IT A DATE?<br />
<br />
the above scenario is an invented one, but it represents about 193 interactions i've had. i call it "invisibility." <br />
<br />
invisibility: (<i>noun</i>) inability to be seen<br />
<div class="def-content">
<br /></div>
<div class="def-content">
or:<span class="vmod"> </span><br />
<span class="vmod">the state of being ignored or not taken into consideration<span class="sb-1"><span class="dt ">;</span></span></span></div>
<div class="def-content">
<span class="vmod"><span class="sb-1"><span class="dt ">not reflected in statistics;</span></span></span><span class="vmod"><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available"> </span></span><br />
<span class="vmod"><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available">concealed</span> <span class="oneClick-link">from</span> <span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available">public</span> <span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available">knowledge.</span></span></div>
<div class="def-content">
<span class="vmod"><br /></span></div>
<span class="vmod">
</span>
<br />
<div class="def-content">
<span class="vmod"><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available">there are so many things that are invisible in our society, that we don't give enough time, space, or attention to. when we allow things to be invisible, we reiterate that they don't matter; that the people who experience that context don't matter. however, placing a clear and specific focus on something highlights it and begins to build awareness and importance for it. and can be the beginning of a very different life for someone living that truth.</span></span><br />
<span class="vmod"><br /></span></div>
<span class="vmod">
</span>
<div class="def-content">
<span class="vmod"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKAWjpg5kEdfTGEGNL0qG2iy14ZLyvlDclkcNEpNe4bthtx51whciRVRCV2SmHbqMsxWv1yJWzzYt7i_CwH90d9XPL2wSPHJEMXDS36zmCzkfGfF8PWIPfJyA_-0iR1Zqkj78wXDrloU53/s1600/Screen+Shot+2017-10-05+at+11.57.12+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="910" data-original-width="902" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKAWjpg5kEdfTGEGNL0qG2iy14ZLyvlDclkcNEpNe4bthtx51whciRVRCV2SmHbqMsxWv1yJWzzYt7i_CwH90d9XPL2wSPHJEMXDS36zmCzkfGfF8PWIPfJyA_-0iR1Zqkj78wXDrloU53/s320/Screen+Shot+2017-10-05+at+11.57.12+PM.png" width="317" /></a><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available">september was bi visibility month, as in bisexual visibility. and, somewhat unsurprisingly, i didn't know that it was bi visibility month until it was almost over. where were my social medias on this one? where were the hashtags and inundation of articles and cute pics of couples? i work in sexuality and follow several sexuality and sexual health experts and nonprofits. how is it possible that bi visibility month was so invisible?</span></span></div>
<span class="vmod">
<br />
<div class="def-content">
<span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available">in health (mental and physical) research involving bisexuals, there is strikingly little information available: most research lumps bisexual-identifying individuals with homosexual-identifying individuals. this is the same as assuming that the whole world's population is similar to white men (which, by the way, is what medical research did for years). we do know that bisexual individuals have a much higher prevalence of mental illness, and i would argue that it is directly related to the problem presented here. </span></div>
<div class="def-content">
<span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available"><br /></span>
<span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available">( ) when bisexual identifying individuals are with a partner of the same gender, bisexual people go through a lot of the things that homosexual people do: </span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available">i've had family members not want to acknowledge romantic relationships as something "more than friends," co-workers that have made rude comments, and uncertainty about how to introduce a female partner in some contexts. and in these situations, most of these people are assuming i identify as homosexual. ...except by people who <i>do</i> identify as homosexual: they tend to tell me things like "you're not a real gay."</span><br />
<span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available"><br /></span>
<span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available"><span class="vmod"><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available">( ) </span></span>when we are with a partner of a differing gender, there's an assumption that we're straight, that we identify with the heteronormative world, that we don't understand the "struggle."</span><br />
<span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available"><br /></span>
<span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available"><span class="vmod"><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available">( ) </span></span>but i would argue what is most frustrating, for me, is how the men i date treat the actual or potential women partners in my life: most men i have ever been out with think it's "cute" that i date women; they don't consider my female partners "real" partners or threatening to them in any way. oh, and they fetishize the </span>girl/girl kissing and assume they'll be invited to be a part of it.<br />
<br />
so, yes, no matter who i date, my sexuality is normally dismissed by most people around me.<br />
<br />
so, in honor of bi visibility, and of national coming out day (oct 11), i am writing this. maybe you didn't know that i was bi, despite the photos i post and terms i use. maybe you didn't want to admit that i was bi, despite things i've told you. and part of it could be that i don't normally use the words bi or bisexual to describe myself; i'm more likely to say something like "i'm open to relationships with people regardless of gender."<br />
<br />
but now you definitely know. so no more excuses. help make bi people feel safe, included, validated.<br />
<br />
visible. </div>
</span>springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-8457294034757467432017-07-12T01:58:00.000-04:002018-01-03T18:24:08.106-05:00giftslast week was my birthday. that, in my world, is an <i>event</i>. my parents made a big deal about birthdays (and holidays) when i was growing up, giving my transient family a sense of tradition that would provide us with a feeling of home as we moved from base to base. as a result, i play up the birthdays of all my friends and loved ones... and i celebrate my own in the same manner.<br />
<br />
this birthday was not one of the best. i got in a huge fight with a loved one that ended up disrupting a majority of the day's plans. and a yearly call i was expecting from another loved one didn't light up my phone, despite my constant monitoring. these let downs seemed magnified on my birthday, and i cried and felt depressed all afternoon and evening as a couple of friends visited and others facetimed and called to try to talk it through with me. <br />
<br />
all i wanted was to have a glass of wine. or six. i wanted to just go out with my best friend and shrug it all off; to pretend like i wasn't hurt and fucking celebrate my birthday.<br />
<br />
but there was one additional complication: i gave up drinking for my birthday.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
last fall i toyed, for this first time, with being sober. i blogged about <a href="http://yogaspring.blogspot.com/2016/10/halfway-to-barbados.html" target="_blank">the journey</a> as i started with 40 days, extended it as i was "assigned" an additional 40 days by elena brower (ex-life coach, present and eternal teacher), and then the <a href="http://yogaspring.blogspot.com/2016/10/icarus.html" target="_blank">lessons i learned about myself</a> along the way. <br />
<br />
but there were a few things i left out, even in my honesty: 1) the real reason i started the first 40 days, and 2) the depth of the concern i had that i couldn't do it; that i enjoyed alcohol maybe a little too much for me to give it up for even 40 days.<br />
<br />
the real reason i started the 40 days? the <a href="http://yogaspring.blogspot.com/2016/08/no.html" target="_blank">rape i didn't really want to talk about</a> yet. yes, i wrote a vague blog about it. yes, i named it as rape and several days later even reported it. yes, i was doing a lot of things to process. but the initial motivator for the 40 days was when my research assistant asked me "do you think you're drinking more?" as part of a post-rape self-care inventory.<br />
<br />
"no," i immediately replied, insistent, even to myself, that i was <b>handling</b> this. but when i got home and got in the bath that night, i noticed there was a large glass of wine in my hand. and i thought, "i don't normally automatically pour wine when i walk into the house." and my next thought: FUCK.<br />
<br />
and so, the 40 days. i wanted to demonstrate that my life would not be negatively affected. i wanted to show myself i had the strength to do something i didn't think i could <a href="http://yogaspring.blogspot.com/2014/02/i-dont-need-to-suck-my-thumb-anymore.html" target="_blank">(thematic in my life)</a>.<br />
<br />
and that's where that second omission surfaces: i had concerns about my ability to stop drinking. in my <a href="http://yogaspring.blogspot.com/2016/09/clarity.html" target="_blank">first post about it,</a> i even seem to minimize the sobriety aspect of the 40 days with the calorie counting moratorium i threw in to the challenge. (side note: the calorie counting was actually harder for the first several days... and that behavior <i>had</i> plagued me much longer!) but i had deeper, more secretive worries about giving up drinking: some related to social situations, but others were around the relationship (or obsession) i've cultivated with avoidance mechanisms.<br />
<br />
i've blogged more openly about <a href="http://yogaspring.blogspot.com/2014/02/illusions-of-control.html" target="_blank">bulimia and dating as avoidance</a>, but not about drinking. drinking, with most of my friends, is not something we need to talk about. because it's assumed that everyone is always drinking. a lot. you could blame it on the penn state influence, australian norms, or the single-in-the-city lifestyle. but a majority of my friends are drinkers. so why would i concern myself with analyzing an avoidance mechanism that is an acceptable part of my life and relationships? <br />
<br />
each drinking event i attended sober became easier and easier. sober dates and sober holidays and sober vacations followed. it was more recently that i came across some life planning notes, from life coaching work with elena, that hit home the non-named concern i had with drinking at the start of the 40 days.<br />
<br />
excerpt from work written 5/5/14:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Things friends have said recently, but I tucked away due to denial:<br />
Hal: Does your drinking every worry you?<br />
Owen: It’s basically like rape when we have sex and you’re that drunk.<br />
Matt: Yeah, I didn’t realize we always do that [drink so much when together].<br />
Kitty: But we don’t have a problem, right? We’re young and single; we wouldn’t do this if we had families.</blockquote>
dare i say i'm thankful for the impetus to start the 40 day journey? reading about my previous denial scared me. i wondered if the "sober thing" would have ever appealed to me. emergency room visits and blackouts hadn't influenced me to change my behavior; who's to say that anything would have? <br />
<br />
in the 7 months after the "40" days, i haven't had much to drink on any one occasion. i've learned i don't like alcohol or its after effects on my body or mind. and i LOVE being totally clear in my life and intentions.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAqHNXd7AAmwSVd_vCq9vgQGgUOZJ_K0bgvoGEROTwT9GDTxDZlkzgz9-X9JQTCvJ_NU1H9oLcSoOiHNIb2XDQ0ejp0J0h3XAaG8L0AMKYuvz75Vp9hoczgYQC995M_3MLY30hY8imCbel/s1600/IMG_3110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAqHNXd7AAmwSVd_vCq9vgQGgUOZJ_K0bgvoGEROTwT9GDTxDZlkzgz9-X9JQTCvJ_NU1H9oLcSoOiHNIb2XDQ0ejp0J0h3XAaG8L0AMKYuvz75Vp9hoczgYQC995M_3MLY30hY8imCbel/s320/IMG_3110.JPG" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">this is how i 37.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
and yet i've been afraid to totally give up alcohol. isn't it nice to have that one glass of wine occasionally? isn't it therapeutic to have a martini with a friend when they really need it? isn't it socially acceptable to have a glass of champagne while attending a wedding? i had a million reasons not to give it up.<br />
<br />
and then, about a week before my birthday, i realized the problem. i was looking at this from a perspective of lack, and the only solution to that was to re-frame it. and so i did: this birthday i gave myself <u>the gift</u> of not drinking (ever again). the disappointing july 6th had no wine; the party with all my friends the next day had no whiskey (well, none in my glass!); the birthday dinner the following night had no cocktails. <br />
<br />
but i have <b>so much more</b>. <br />
<br />
and this, my loves, is the how, the why, and the what of my 37th birthday. springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-4930831483144137582017-03-28T21:51:00.000-04:002017-03-28T21:54:33.222-04:00newbiei convinced a friend who had never done yoga to go to yoga with me last week. THREE TIMES, no less. i was super proud of him--he did every pose without a whine or audible sigh of annoyance. he didn't even shoot me any "is she fucking kidding me?!" eyes during some of the more painful parts of the classes! <br />
<br />
nope, my new-to-yoga bff stayed with his breath through it all. and, if you have ever done yoga, you know this is a feat. especially when new to the practice.<br />
<br />
alas, after the three classes, i heard my friend saying that he really tried to like yoga, but he found some of the things annoying and didn't really want to do it again. i didn't say anything in the moment, but i felt a little heart broken at hearing that. what i saw in his yoga practice was something that was rare with many beginners: the dedication to staying <i>in</i> the practice. and i don't mean simply following the poses, i mean he didn't break concentration or breath, he really was looking for the yoga: the yoking; the union.<br />
<br />
reflecting on his aggravation, though, i'm reminded of how long i hated yoga: about 5 years to be precise. i would go to yoga once a week because i thought i <u>should</u>. because i thought it would round out my workouts. because i wanted to tell people "i do yoga." <br />
<br />
and then i thought of all the lessons i know NOW, and what i wish i had understood about yoga earlier. and so, dedicated to my bff who still has 3 weeks of paid-for classes to sneak his way in to, here are some of the things i wish i had known:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://6dollarshirts.com/image/cache//data/designs/namaste-bitches/namastebitches-t-shirt-tn-400x400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://6dollarshirts.com/image/cache//data/designs/namaste-bitches/namastebitches-t-shirt-tn-400x400.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a>1) <b>yoga is hard for everyone.</b> the person who is rocking every handstand might have a killer time trying to get into splits. the person flopping into forward folds so easily could be very upset about not being able to hold an arm balance. the person who seems to have most of the yoga class sorted could secretly not be trying any of the harder variations because they are afraid of change and terrified that someone might notice that fact. the person who is flowing perfectly through every pose likely has a mind
screaming "you should be doing it better" that they are trying to calm.<br />
<br />
knowing that yoga is hard for everyone--but in different ways--is the first thing you have to remember. and then, you let the breath enter the equation and allow yoga to be the <b>great equalizer </b>that it is. yoga will even out your body side to side and strength to flexibility and balance. it will bring together your mind, body, and breath. and it brings US together as a community as well.<br />
<br />
2) <b>you <u>can</u> hold that warrior 2. </b>when something is hard in yoga, and you think you <i>cannot</i>
stand one more second of it, know that you can, and then just decide to
do it. the teacher won't ask you to hold something longer than you
can.<br />
<br />
and there are two things that happen when you hold the pose as
long as the teacher plans: first, as kelli so elegantly put it this
weekend, you train your brain to know that you CAN do things that at
first seem impossible. and, secondly, you <span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">transform</span>.
literally and figuratively. breathing through that fire that builds up
in your legs, or your belly, or your shoulders is HOW you change. <br />
<br />
3) <b>yoga makes your LIFE better.</b> yoga is sneaky in the ways it changes your life, but the most practical way i can explain it is through the shifts: every time you don't understand something your body routinely does in yoga (why you always lift your first knuckle when your hands are meant to be flat on your mat, pressing down through the ridge of the palm and taking weight out of the wrist, for example), it is practice for learning how to approach patterns you don't understand in your life off your mat. like "why do i always respond to my partner's jokes with animosity, even though i know they don't mean them to hurt me?"<br />
<br />
these patterns in our body reflect the patterns in our lives. each little shift we find in our yoga practice--which continues to happen F.O.R.E.V.E.R in yoga--is retraining your brain to respond more effectively in life. every time i find a shift in a pose, i notice a shift in my life outside of the yoga studio. the act of hitting a new arm balance will carry with it a little shift in understanding in your brain that rewires how you understand something and will allow you to see something else differently later in your day or week. the confidence you gained from holding that arm balance will likely double the impact in your life. HOW COOL IS THAT?<br />
<br />
----<br />
mainly this blog is to say: stick with it. everyone is a newbie at some point. and the best thing about being new to yoga is that you <i>get</i> to have SO MANY little shifts and revelations, and that they will seem to come so quickly! look for them. examine and notice and take joy in the process. i promise it will serve you off the mat in ways you never imagined.<br />
<br />
namaste.springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-40328069086410242482017-02-08T12:19:00.001-05:002020-01-27T01:05:06.202-05:00kisses that wake princesses, glass slippers, and valentine's daylast night i took part in a life coaching call with a company i've done some work with in the past. i really respect their methods and approach. however, the call tonight was on love and relationships, in true february spirit, and let's just say i was not impressed with the advice espoused.<br />
<br />
"you have the pussy; he should be chasing it! he's obviously not the one." <br />
"he should be able to handle you talking about marriage on the first date if that's what you want. he must not be the one."<br />
"just decide what you want now. if it doesn't seem like he meets it, he's not the one."<br />
<br />
um feminism. um that's crazy. um think outside of the box. AND STOP SELLING THIS STORY OF "THE ONE."<br />
<br />
selling a mythology that each person has one perfect person out there waiting for them is problematic in several ways:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
1) <i>it causes people to measure partners against unrealistic expectations. </i> no one is perfect: making sure that someone checks off every quality on a certain list is impossible. holding someone up to this list, or expecting them to always behave in a way you expect is damaging for a relationship, but also constrictive on potential happiness. <br />
<br />
i'll admit that i had a list. i had a list i kept in my diary that was constantly revised through my college years, and i wouldn't date people that didn't meet every qualification. one of the obvious problems here is that people change, so even if someone meets every checkbox when you meet, there's no guarantee that they will forever. when i was only dating based on my list, i limited myself, but i also hurt relationships i was in. <br />
<br />
my now ex-husband once asked me, while engaged, if i would still love him if he stopped running and put on weight. i didn't answer for a while, and then said that i would prefer he kept running. he looked at me, horrified, and said he would love me no matter what i looked like, no matter how much weight i gained over the next 70 years. i often wonder whether he ever forgave me for that.<br />
<br />
once our marriage ended, i started dating again. outside of the university environment, i found that the types of people i was encountering were less likely to meet every single qualification i had set for a partner. specifically, i felt that education was important, and i wasn't willing to date people that did not have college or advanced degrees. but, eventually, i decided to ditch the list. and, as it turns out, some of my most beloved relationships in the past few years have been with people that i would not have even gone on one date with in the past. <br />
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2) <i>it causes people to stay in relationships out of fear.</i> thinking that there is this "one" person that is a "soulmate" creates a situation where, once in a relationship, we are fearful that there isn't someone that is a better match, and that we should stay with this current relationship that seems ok. but, again, people change. or new aspects of them are shown over time. <br />
<br />
i was married. i thought i would be married forever. i didn't think divorce was even an option. <br />
<br />
but i became miserable in my marriage. and my husband did too. i am so thankful that he had the courage and the love-based mentality to leave our marriage. even though ending a relationship can be painful, staying in one because you think you should, or because you think "but this is THE ONE, right?" is not the answer. <br />
<br />
3) <i>it causes people to think that one person must meet their every need. </i> listen to me: no one person can meet every need you have, except yourself. <br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>no other person can be your everything.</b> in any romantic relationship, expecting one person to shoulder all of your burdens, to respond to your every desire, to anticipate your every need, sets up a cycle of unhealthy dependence. social networks (both offline and online) are there for your support: family, friends, and colleagues can serve in these roles. all too often people abandon the use of their networks once in a long-term monogamous relationship, expecting their partner to be their "be all end all."<br />
<br />
i've done it. i've gotten into relationships where, sure, i still hung out with friends, but i didn't go to them with problems. i stopped the more regular everyday interactions with them and relied on casual social drinks to keep the sense of friendship alive. but imagine fostering those relationships simultaneously! yes, it's more effort, but building networks around ourselves is so valuable.<br />
<br />
i date and love more than one person at a time; i keep my network full of people who support me and care about me. but the relationship model isn't what is important: it's that you're constantly honest with yourself and your partner.<br />
<br />
i challenge everyone to let go of the myth of "the one," whether you consider yourself to be with that person or not. be with a person you love for who they are each day. if you're single, look outside of your pre-defined qualifications and explore what else might be possible.<br />
<br />
and, partnered or not, surround yourself with love, however it shows up in your life.springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-9900348706763183332017-01-01T19:47:00.001-05:002017-01-01T19:47:43.788-05:00new year, ever-evolving usi'll be honest: i hate new year's day. i feel no need to make resolutions, and have written about my <a href="http://yogaspring.blogspot.com/2016/01/eating-sitting-being.html" target="_blank">non-resolutions</a> before, a <a href="http://yogaspring.blogspot.com/2014/01/teaching-world.html" target="_blank">few</a> times in <a href="http://yogaspring.blogspot.com/2012/01/newy-newness.html" target="_blank">fact</a>. but even so, reading about everyone's resolutions--mainly about working out and food promises--can be a little triggering: last night i felt a craving to throw up; today i wanted to run 20 miles. i didn't do either. but i felt an underlying edge of crankiness to my personality.<br />
<br />
meanwhile, so far this new year i've already spent several hours working through complicated relationship issues with a few people in my life: 2017 welcomed in with a bang. and, once again, provoking for the remnants of my eating disorder. which feels frustrating. <br /><br />
today i began sorting through journals and notes from my past year of growth, looking for something inspiring to help me through my own emotional turbulence. one year ago today i started working on <a href="https://www.acim.org/" target="_blank">a course in miracles</a>. i found some notes from the first exercise i had done last jan 1, which was to name each thing that i saw, and then state that it does not mean anything. <br />
<br />
************************ <br />
<br />
"these flags do not mean anything."<br />
"this mirror does not mean anything."<br />
"this mannequin does not mean anything."<br />
"this santa hat does not mean anything."<br />
"this cat bed does not mean anything."<br />
<br />
"this cat does not mean anything." was the first one that confused me; was i supposed to say this about living things also? i wasn't sure. i didn't dwell but i moved on.<br />
<br />
"my bed does not mean anything" was the first hard one. i had to correct myself to say "this bed does not mean anything." and then i had to say it a few times. i found myself thinking about the person who helped me buy the bed and get it home, and how i thought we were building something together when we did so. all the people i had slept with in this bed, both friends and people i had dated. the pain this bed had caused in bringing it to NYC. after about six repetitions, i was able to move on.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_mPo6HqkTOY0PzHt5BvWM56tq3bBjyAbYrXfYWM4_bWIEE2U3sYpNEtuI8fZtqnJ0_I9962OIlnhI8qp-1fwub6paV1Qm6-rDzOt8snQXAQ_iQTl5Wj8adsi730g53LCcF1I6xZi-RaN/s1600/Screen+Shot+2017-01-01+at+7.46.17+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_mPo6HqkTOY0PzHt5BvWM56tq3bBjyAbYrXfYWM4_bWIEE2U3sYpNEtuI8fZtqnJ0_I9962OIlnhI8qp-1fwub6paV1Qm6-rDzOt8snQXAQ_iQTl5Wj8adsi730g53LCcF1I6xZi-RaN/s320/Screen+Shot+2017-01-01+at+7.46.17+PM.png" width="320" /></a>"this hanging mobile does not mean anything." almost broke my heart for half a second. this mobile i had made with adi one afternoon before leaving sydney. i had to remind myself that the mobile was not her. it was only something we had made together one day during big sisters club.<br />
<br />
"this fan does not mean anything." (i had to go to an easy one next.) "these shoes do not mean anything." i kept moving through things, struggling with some. i got to "these walls do not mean anything." and paused.<br />
<br />
it clicked.<br />
<br />
these things do not mean anything. none of them do, not even the cat. we assign meanings to them.<br />
<br />
************************ <br />
<br />
merely reading the notes from this brought me out of a food/exercise oriented place and sat me firmly in a seat of emotional sorting. i have done this exercise since then, and find it extremely helpful, but specifically at times of feeling sadness around a relationship. relationships can get messy: stepping back from intense emotions, whether with a family member, friend, or romantic partner, helps me sort through what i am feeling and experiencing.<br />
<br />
and so today, after reading that, i took to a practice of cord cutting, another practice that has helped me when i feel overly blah-blah-bah about my life. (yes, i'm aware that sentence was vague, but that's the best i could do just now.) cord cutting is a specific <a href="https://gabbybernstein.com/cut-the-cord/" target="_blank">practice of severing energetic ties</a>. the act of seeing myself as unbound--from both positive and negative energies around me--gave me a bit more distance from "life" things and provided me with a much-needed sense of buoyancy. <br />
<br />
post-inspiration searching, meditating, and general aura-cleansing, i find that i'm left with a bit of a new year's resolution in spite of myself. i re-resolve to be my best me: for both myself and those i care about. exercising my heart muscle and nourishing my soul as my top priorities, with gratitude and love to all my support systems.<br />
<br />
and all my best wishes for your health, and whatever resolutions you employ toward that end.springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-40265583340678099442016-11-28T14:40:00.000-05:002016-11-28T20:26:27.669-05:00promises promises i love the results a consistent meditation practice brings. but for a while i lost my practice. as in i think it wandered off while i was shopping, and no amount of PA system calling could place it.<br />
<div class="p1">
<br />
ok clearly it didn't wander off. but that's what it felt like. it surely wasn't my fault that i lost it. i had been waking up early to meditate every morning for 6 months straight. i made an international trip to sydney and continued the practice, despite the irregular hours and erratic schedule while there. upon arriving back in nyc, though, my sleep was the most disrupted it had ever been, and my meditation practice got lost in the jumble. for the following 6 months, i meditated irregularly: a couple of times a week, when it was most convenient.<br />
<br />
mostly, i beat myself up for <i>not</i> meditating. mornings that i woke up later than intended were begun with a rush to get brekky and a thought that i'd ruined my meditation plan. i would silently feel bad about this, think about the things i could be accomplishing if i had meditated and had a clear slate to work from, and then grumpily go about getting out the door.<br />
<br />
despite knowing how the daily meditation practice helped me, i felt like there was some mental block keeping me from re-engaging with the practice. a couple of weeks ago i attended a coaching call with <a href="http://elenabrower.com/" target="_blank">elena</a> and <a href="http://www.handelgroup.com/departments/hg-life/categories/hg-life-coaches/posts/laurie-gerber" target="_blank">laurie</a> from the <a href="http://www.handelgroup.com/departments/hg-life" target="_blank">handel group</a> on keeping promises. when laurie asked for examples of promises we were having trouble keeping, i mentioned this lost meditation.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJyDIQcx8Uc1BNA3aYqqbSXmb5QXzwC1MogZ6PesPJGif4rEHAQiENB5ccZvR-s7hU8HhyphenhyphenXrDTnDMEHZxtlbjqU8n-MqJ9_5J4uVfMZpbLJoy0wdNhVMtrUFofmRs2ecKT_Ff8c9QeaCL_/s1600/FullSizeRender-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJyDIQcx8Uc1BNA3aYqqbSXmb5QXzwC1MogZ6PesPJGif4rEHAQiENB5ccZvR-s7hU8HhyphenhyphenXrDTnDMEHZxtlbjqU8n-MqJ9_5J4uVfMZpbLJoy0wdNhVMtrUFofmRs2ecKT_Ff8c9QeaCL_/s320/FullSizeRender-2.jpg" width="220" /></a>elena and laurie talked about how feeling bad is a diversion. when it comes to making and keeping promises, engaging in the promised behavior provides you with personal integrity. if you don’t do the behavior and then feel bad about it, you <u>obscure the fact </u>that you didn’t do the behavior. so what’s happening is you’re listening to the other voice that provides you with an excuse. <br />
<br />
this means that every morning i woke up without meditating and then silently yelled at myself up for not doing so, my mind felt like i had taken care of the problem. i was actually giving myself more of an excuse to continue NOT meditating. </div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
you have to quiet that excuse voice by giving yourself a consequence when you don't engage in the promised behavior. if you don’t do the promised behavior, you have to follow through by doing the consequence. this consequence replaces the voice that gives you an excuse.<br />
<br />
although i've worked with the handel method before, i was skeptical that simply setting a consequence would magically find my wandering meditation practice. but, i set a consequence: if i did not wake up early and meditate for 20 minutes, i would not be allowed to watch internet tv before bed. (what i like about that consequence is that it is also providing me with a second opportunity for meditation if i miss the morning.)<br />
<br />
i set the consequence and instantly i was back on track: my missing practice showed up. and it has been showing up every day for the past 12 days. i told my mom about this, and she said "you must really like to watch tv at night!" i laughed, because i suppose i do, but that's not actually what happened here. for example, when my alarm goes off, i don't think "i better get up and meditate so i can watch tv tonight!" i don't think at all, really. i just do it.<br />
<br />
this is an example of personal integrity: of wanting to keep that promise to myself. of showing myself i CAN keep the promise. of becoming dependent on myself. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBSuFrFYjCudwBHavWBnRsBMoXOz6_RjOKRorNeGYA2Q207lGY23vktIioEHMaYRGGikMP4NfcX3Rl66HLyDZxYiyyUODy5MIysyn_mQ0oT8teI5fEUOp4lfUH8u1ha135AzoYX279hFCN/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-11-28+at+8.13.24+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBSuFrFYjCudwBHavWBnRsBMoXOz6_RjOKRorNeGYA2Q207lGY23vktIioEHMaYRGGikMP4NfcX3Rl66HLyDZxYiyyUODy5MIysyn_mQ0oT8teI5fEUOp4lfUH8u1ha135AzoYX279hFCN/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-11-28+at+8.13.24+PM.png" /></a>the coolest part of that is that it is SUPER EASY. showing yourself that you can keep these promises to yourself gives you faith in yourself. and that faith keeps multiplying. <br />
<br />
go ahead, try it. maybe you could care less about where your meditation practice is. but maybe you beat yourself up about delaying email replies, about not flossing, or about choosing a sugary drink over water. choose one of those little things that has been driving you nuts, make yourself some <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WBupia9oidU" target="_blank">promises promises</a>... and then keep them. </div>
springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-72230500093783977972016-11-16T23:05:00.000-05:002016-11-16T23:05:36.598-05:00gratitude for what we attract<div>
monday night i went to yoga and the teacher started talking about "gratitude, since thanksgiving is next week." WHAT?! --yeah, i audibly yelled that in yoga class. how the hell did thanksgiving sneak up on us? (no, no, i know how; please don't bring that up.) after that class, i began reflecting on my gratitude practice. i've gone through different stages of keeping gratitude diaries and finding lessons i can be grateful for in each life experience. <br />
<br />
the gratitude experience that stuck out in my mind was probably the first time i actively used gratitude in a difficult situation: i was having a break-up conversation with someone i didn't want to break up with--he was the initiator. instead of reacting when he accused me of things, i silently reminded myself that i was grateful he was even talking to me, and then responded from a calm place. when he called me a liar, i reminded myself that i was grateful he had overcome his fears about coming over, and responded with grace. <br />
<br />
the gratitude i silently washed that conversation with changed the trajectory of that morning and of my future relationship with that individual. we moved forward as friends, for which i was grateful.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGu23goXZcABC9iu7e4_bY7e0Ltl6biHTTwxqkXjJQtc-vfiux-LOhpngCtqdrP7PEpc_VBZ2MMa0gXLjDX0WYyF7Cp59Euk3i675xyg7kOEokpatDfyB4fbQ366TAfy90QW82FDShkqVK/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-11-16+at+11.03.37+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGu23goXZcABC9iu7e4_bY7e0Ltl6biHTTwxqkXjJQtc-vfiux-LOhpngCtqdrP7PEpc_VBZ2MMa0gXLjDX0WYyF7Cp59Euk3i675xyg7kOEokpatDfyB4fbQ366TAfy90QW82FDShkqVK/s320/Screen+Shot+2016-11-16+at+11.03.37+PM.png" width="266" /></a></div>
shifting to an attitude of gratitude does have the power to change our experiences. after contemplating that for the past few days, i incorporated a gratitude shifting practice into the yoga classes i taught this morning. leaving class, i was feeling grounded and ready to tackle the day.<br />
<br />
as part of my grab-my-day-by-the-horns, i texted someone and told them i needed them to do some healing before i could spend more time with them. it was a very hard text to write/conclusion to come to. mainly because i care about the person, but also because i'm not great at boundaries: i often let other people's needs outweigh my own. i had to protect myself in this situation, even though i didn't want to. <br />
<br />
i felt a pain at letting this person go, even if only temporarily. but i also felt grateful that i had the strength to set that boundary for myself. coincidentally (or, perhaps, cosmically), i found something moments after sending the text that i had copied for myself months ago from a friend's friend's blog (written by <a href="http://rosierees.com/emotionally-abusive-partner/">Rosie Rees</a>):<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
You have attracted this person, relationship and situation into your life to GROW through it. They are mirroring back shadow elements of ourselves that we have not claimed. It is NOT your responsibility or duty to change them. They need to do that themselves.</blockquote>
let me just point out that i think the above statement is always true, which is why i tucked it aside for myself, but you know how some days some things just ring like SUPER TRUE? (yes, "super true" is definitely a phrase you should be using now.)<br />
<br />
i needed to be reminded that it wasn't my responsibility to help this person through all of their difficulties, especially when they weren't asking that of me. but what was most helpful to me was being reminded that i was seeing a reflection of myself in this person: i was watching him cope with his life difficulties by sliding <i>back into</i> alcohol/drug use. moreover, i observed this as i was testing out <i>not using</i> any type of numbing agents. <br />
<br />
he was the first person i went on a sober first date with--just a week into my original 40 day experiment. so as i was learning that i didn't need excessive alcohol in my life, my lessons were even more crystallized by the fact that he was experiencing negative ramifications from his own use.<br />
<br />
i hope that he continues to grow and heal, but i know it isn't my job to arrange that. however, it is up to me to decide how i feel now, after sending that text this morning. and instead of being sad for losing him, i choose to be grateful for his appearance in my life at this time.<br />
<br />
so just as i challenged my yoga classes this morning, see what you can shift by cultivating an attitude of gratitude. we can be grateful for even the seemingly worst aspects of our lives. there are several instances in my life that i could point to and say "that really sucked," but flipping that around is actually equally easy, and much more fulfilling.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
i am grateful for my husband leaving our home; i was able to grow and heal in ways i would not have been able to without that impetus. i am grateful for my struggle with bulimia; it has taught me more about myself and my relationships than another avoidance mechanism that i could have more easily blended into society's allowances. <br />
<br />
i am grateful i have learned to set boundaries for myself; i am grateful i can choose to see gratitude in each moment. </div>
springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-47386280924945125012016-11-10T00:32:00.000-05:002016-11-10T00:32:03.137-05:00bye bye judgement, hello lovei worked the elections all day yesterday in harlem. i watched
disenfranchised voters who suspected that, when i told them that were in the wrong polling
location, it was because of a conspiracy to keep them from voting. (it was actually that two polling districts used to be in one building and one of them had moved 400 feet away.) despite the challenges, harlem voters turned up and voted in droves: my precinct had about seven times the turnout as in the last election. <br />
<br />
it broke my heart to hear their assumptions yesterday, but it
really broke my heart walking around harlem today.<br />
<br />
this morning i had decided that i was not getting out of bed to teach my two
early morning harlem yoga classes. i figured everyone would hibernate through the day, and i
knew i had nothing to offer in my teaching. but my conscience got
the best of me and i showed up... and students showed up. <br />
<br />
at the end of the first class i taught, a young black woman from north carolina started sobbing, saying that she didn't know how she could live through the next four years. a couple other women and i encircled her, held her, talked with her, and cried with her.<br />
<br />
i didn't know how to respond to voters yesterday who didn't believe me; i didn't know what to teach in yoga this morning; i didn't know how to comfort the crying student this morning. i did what i could in each instance, following heart and offering what internal gifts i could find: feeling our sameness.<br />
<br />
in "the universe has your back," gabby talks about separation, and all the ways that we make ourselves separate. sometimes it is easy to feel sameness, like when people commiserate with you about a shared loss. but other times, the separation and judgement feels so great.<br />
<br />
i woke up at 134 am this morning to a message from a friend in sydney: "lucky you are a dual citizen!" it read. i knew instantly what the results of the election were. and in that second, i felt separate. alone.<br />
<br />
i instantly blamed others for the results of the election and thus they became the source of my pain. but the blaming and separation didn't comfort me, and i was left feeling that nothing could. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwqnbceU4fk1oaJrOUk9IyodDMgdsGAhAY3yCIBcj6BuOHkLk7X7qlN0WxbXemV1eY7X7hlLCxsxxCcQ9VMn9NZaZe7WrcpJAQ84OtRK5FPWBHB88SeAYDiGSyb9za4LSLX1YRdq6dZHB4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-11-10+at+12.29.23+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwqnbceU4fk1oaJrOUk9IyodDMgdsGAhAY3yCIBcj6BuOHkLk7X7qlN0WxbXemV1eY7X7hlLCxsxxCcQ9VMn9NZaZe7WrcpJAQ84OtRK5FPWBHB88SeAYDiGSyb9za4LSLX1YRdq6dZHB4/s320/Screen+Shot+2016-11-10+at+12.29.23+AM.png" width="320" /></a>then i was reminded of one day last week when i was freaking out about not having enough time to run as long as i wanted to. i only had time for a shorter run and i started out feeling angry that i hadn't left enough time to run. but i decided to try to change that: i decided to wish a positive thought to each person i ran by. like "i wish you love; i wish you happiness; i wish you abundance" etc. i ended up having an amazing run and feeling great. ...i felt like each person i passed was on my team.<br />
<br />
so today, i remembered that experiment from last week's run. when i looked at the maps of red vs blue, i wished positive thoughts for the voters who disagree with me. when i got angry or sad thinking about the results of the election, i thought of the humanness we all share. when i let go of blaming and separating myself from <i>them</i>, my heart softened and i could feel healing.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsxtImDVMig" target="_blank">love</a>. the more we respond from a place of love, the more we can all heal ourselves and our country. (so i guess the short answer is, no, i'm not moving back to sydney just yet.)springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-68469377596096287642016-10-19T01:28:00.001-04:002016-10-19T01:28:48.772-04:00next destinytonight i got a text from my husband; it told me that i'm now divorced. four years after our split, we are finally divorced.<br />
<br />
i
didn't know how to reply to the text. i wanted to say something
elegant; i wanted to process everything i was feeling; i wanted us to
heal our wounds. <br />
<br />
i replied "oh my god."<br />
<br />
*****************************************<br />
<br />
i did a two day teacher training with elena this weekend. upon arriving, elena had us draw cards from a deck. each card had a quote. mine was:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/c5/e1/bb/c5e1bb4e63f9d84438d53b8b7fdcb511.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/c5/e1/bb/c5e1bb4e63f9d84438d53b8b7fdcb511.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Watch your thoughts, they become words;<br />
watch your words, they become actions;<br />
watch your actions, they become habits;<br />
watch your habits, they become character;<br />
watch your character, for it becomes your destiny.<br />
--FRANK OUTLAW</blockquote>
<br />
<br />
i like the quote; i like thinking that what we practice becomes us. i also like that we can create our destiny; and, that if we read deeper, we can change our destiny.<br />
<br />
which is what i've been focusing on for the past 5 weeks. 37 days of no calorie counting, no drinking, no mood altering anything. each day has gotten easier. and now i feel <b>better</b> than normal
about food and exercise. better than normal because i know what it is
like to feel so undeniably obsessed with it. saturday i drank a juice
without examining the calorie label. sunday i'm pretty sure i had four full meals. monday i ate some yogurt from a
larger tub without measuring out a 1/2 cup serving so i'd know the
calorie count. these things all seem like actual miracles to me.<br />
<br />
sunday night, at the end of the yoga training, i approached elena in a panic about my 40 days being almost up. elena looked me in the eyes, grabbed my mala beads that were around my neck, pulled my face nose to nose with hers, and told me that she had an easy solution: she assigned me 40 more days. i instantly felt relieved and thus knew that she was right in her assignment. <br />
<br />
and i started to think about what it really was that i was in recovery from. yes, the eating disorder; yes, i'm not using other substances right now... but was there a single addiction here? <br />
<br />
i think it's that i was addicted to numbing feelings and avoiding feeling hard emotions. and i do need another 40 days to continue to find my way without returning to any of the number of avoidant crutches i've used.<br />
<br />
*****************************************<br />
<br />
it's that addiction which i will now openly credit with accelerating the dissolution of my past relationships. <br />
<br />
processing the text tonight was surprisingly hard, despite the fact that the divorce was not at all sudden. friends questioned "is it because it's the end of a chapter?" "is it because you weren't expecting it?" "is it because of the way he told you?" i kept saying that i didn't know. lydia facetimed me from sydney, immediately upon receiving my text, and encouraged me to cry it out and try to determine what i was feeling. when i still couldn't understand it, she prescribed meditation.<br />
<br />
i meditated. i sat. i followed my breath. i was present. all the attempted processing, the breathing, even the
meditation didn't identify what felt so hard about that text. but, i
did what i've almost never done: i sat with the hard feelings. instead of allowing myself to shrink inside a constricted breath, i was able to expand my breathing.<br />
<br />
i would tell my best friend, who just soberly processed the death of her grandmother so beautifully: i'm proud of you. I'M SO PROUD OF YOU. <br />
<br />
so i breathe a deep breath, an expanded breath, into that pride i try to direct back toward myself. <br />
<br />
and i swear i can feel my next destiny inside that breath. <br />
<br />springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849086982932211249.post-90102216464551892132016-10-09T14:52:00.000-04:002016-10-09T15:01:57.439-04:00Halfway to Barbados<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">I was in the Miami airport, halfway to Barbados, and one of
my favorite songs came through my iPhone headphones: “Moments,” by Tove Lo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Partial lyrics: “I can get a little drunk/I
get into all the don’ts/but on good days, I’m charming as fuck.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every time I hear those lyrics, I smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I identify. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Until I was halfway to Barbados. I was smiling, mouthing
along to the lyrics, walking toward my gate, and, upon hearing those lyrics, I
thought, “oh, that’s kinda sad.”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">And I stopped in my tracks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I actually stopped walking because I felt so confused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">I have had a narrative in my head that I’m strong, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">even though I’m broken</i>; that I’m
surviving, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">even though I’m broken</i>;
that I’m functioning, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">even though I’m
broken</i>.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">And when I paused to consider what was wrong, halfway
through “Moments,” I realized it was a miracle moment: what was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">wrong</i> was that I didn’t feel broken
anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpfT9it4cJ79N_IHFST_GTPSH9_aZemPQUQE7gyAtgF-z_W0W94aeHWF_Q0pjxnFNboTwBz5IwDyWOramt-FNrudAIWzncCUaBM6qR_NnmaPd3LvPzO1JY2Z81m7cdZL-zEcfKvPG8TL0F/s1600/IMG_7703.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpfT9it4cJ79N_IHFST_GTPSH9_aZemPQUQE7gyAtgF-z_W0W94aeHWF_Q0pjxnFNboTwBz5IwDyWOramt-FNrudAIWzncCUaBM6qR_NnmaPd3LvPzO1JY2Z81m7cdZL-zEcfKvPG8TL0F/s320/IMG_7703.JPG" width="256" /></a>I smiled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I smiled so
big that I must have looked a little crazy to, well, everyone else in the
airport. And I thought to myself, “I’m whole. I’m whole now.”</span></span><br />
<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Feeling whole felt so fulfilling, and so different than
anything I could remember, that it felt startling. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It feels scary for me to write: scary because
I’m nervous that the feeling of wholeness might be transient.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My literal mind says, “but of course I was
always whole; I just forgot.” And so I begin typing, assuring myself it’s safe
to commit to digital ink. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">The shift could be linked to the 40 days, friends’ life
changes, the spontaneous impending vacation, the yoga workshops with Elena over
the past two days, the reading and journaling I have been doing with Gabby’s
new book <u>The Universe Has Your Back</u>, …or most likely a little bit of all
of the above.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">One of the lessons Gabby references from <u>A Course in
Miracles</u> is that we “create visions of the world we want to see,” meaning
that the stories we tell ourselves are powerful. The backstory to who we are,
even if it is never written down or spoken aloud, resounds through our
minds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">The truth is, I liked thinking of myself as broken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I liked the fragility and girlishness about
it. I played into it. I felt like it gave me character.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">But it was an excuse. The more I challenged the notion that
I was broken, even though I wasn’t always doing it consciously, the harder it
became to believe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Until the Miami
Miracle Moment, when it became impossible to believe. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">“<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W8tbQgXyn1c" target="_blank">I have my moments</a>.”</span></span></div>
springhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08560257831667904022noreply@blogger.com0