next destiny

tonight i got a text from my husband; it told me that i'm now divorced.  four years after our split, we are finally divorced.

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. 

i replied "oh my god."

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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:

Watch your thoughts, they become words;
watch your words, they become actions;
watch your actions, they become habits;
watch your habits, they become character;
watch your character, for it becomes your destiny.
--FRANK OUTLAW

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.

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 better 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.

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.

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? 

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.

*****************************************

it's that addiction which i will now openly credit with accelerating the dissolution of my past relationships. 

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.

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.

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.

so i breathe a deep breath, an expanded breath, into that pride i try to direct back toward myself. 

and i swear i can feel my next destiny inside that breath.

Halfway to Barbados

I was in the Miami airport, halfway to Barbados, and one of my favorite songs came through my iPhone headphones: “Moments,” by Tove Lo.  Partial lyrics: “I can get a little drunk/I get into all the don’ts/but on good days, I’m charming as fuck.”  Every time I hear those lyrics, I smile.  And I identify.  

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.”

And I stopped in my tracks.  I actually stopped walking because I felt so confused. 

I have had a narrative in my head that I’m strong, even though I’m broken; that I’m surviving, even though I’m broken; that I’m functioning, even though I’m broken.

And when I paused to consider what was wrong, halfway through “Moments,” I realized it was a miracle moment: what was wrong was that I didn’t feel broken anymore. 

I smiled.  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.”

Feeling whole felt so fulfilling, and so different than anything I could remember, that it felt startling.  It feels scary for me to write: scary because I’m nervous that the feeling of wholeness might be transient.  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.

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 The Universe Has Your Back, …or most likely a little bit of all of the above.

One of the lessons Gabby references from A Course in Miracles 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. 

The truth is, I liked thinking of myself as broken.  I liked the fragility and girlishness about it. I played into it. I felt like it gave me character.

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.  Until the Miami Miracle Moment, when it became impossible to believe.

“I have my moments.”

icarus

it's the evening of day 20 of my 40 day challenge.  40 days of no substances and no calorie counting.  20 days in: i've learned a few things.

a la movies 

 

no substances: i'm fun, and can party just as ridiculously sans alcohol.  i've been out with friends drinking late on weekend evenings, dancing til the wee hours, totally sober.  well, okay, maybe the diet cokes hyped me up a bit. so maybe 99% sober. 

some people haven't been inviting me to things as much, fearful that i wouldn't go or that i wouldn't have fun without being able to drink. but i don't blame them; i would probably suspect the same of most of my friends. luckily i also have a bestie who is doing the challenge with me.  and we look very cute sober at a movie on a saturday night.

first dates, cocktail parties where i don't know anyone, and business dinners are all a little terrifying without any alcohol. however, i've met a few brave dates open to the challenge, and made friends at parties and dinners despite the sobriety.

personally, i've been feeling more confident and happy: realizing i'm fun on my own and that i can make it through these events sober has translated into less fear overall.   the confidence has even bled into other areas of my life.  i've stood up for myself with colleagues that weren't listening to my expertise, and i've expressed my needs to friends and partners more readily. 

it's also made me much more sympathetic to people who have quit drinking.  i've always thought that recovering from bulimia was very hard because food is something that is necessary: you cannot exist in a world where people do not eat.  although i had sympathy for anyone in any type of recovery, i still felt like "but you don't HAVE to be around (insert drug or alcohol here) if you don't want to!"

but i don't know how true that is for alcohol, really.  it's quite pervasive in our social lives.  although i'm quite happy not drinking right now, i also know that it's not forever.  so to my sober peeps: i'm sorry if i minimized your struggle, even if only in my own mind.  also: i'm totes up for sober parties, even after my 40 days are up.

no counting: eating without counting every bite and calculating each calorie is way less stressful.  i never liked counting every chip at the mexican restaurant, or estimating how many tablespoons of ketchup i just squeezed on to my plate. i was doing it to ease the craziness in my brain, but it was actually only contributing to it.  (i know, i know, if you have never dealt with this issue, it sounds like a "DUH" statement.)

i'm more present when i'm eating with friends.  i listen to them talking instead of re-counting the number of calories i have consumed thus far at the meal.  i can reply to them and engage in conversation instead of calculating whether i have enough calories left in my day to have a bite of the dessert they ordered.

it has been hard, a million moments of each day.  i've created a few thought exercises to distract myself when i start to try to count something on my plate when eating alone or start to try to remember all the things i've eaten in a day. (they involve trying to remember very minute details in other areas of my life.) but, in general, it feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.  not basing my self-value on a number, and whether or not i feel like it is the right number, is freeing. 

i no longer wake up after a day where i decided i had 200 too many calories with a sense of dread: a feeling that i had to make up for being "bad" the day before by eating less or exercising extra, trying to find extra time for working out or brainstorming places to save calories.  or even panicking because i might have a social event in the evening that i knew would involve alcohol--and extra calories. which leads me to the following. 

and the combo of the two: alcohol has calories. i've definitely played the sorority girl game of eating less to drink more.  i've run extra to drink more.  i've chosen which drinks to enjoy based on their calorie count (no different than foods).

not drinking for the past few weeks has taught me how afraid of alcohol calories i really am: on mornings of social functions i used to feel anxiety.  lately i have not.  and, scarily enough, i've realized it's because i don't feel internal pressure to run an extra few miles to prep for the looming alcohol calories. i can workout the normal amount without the fear of "going over" the calorie count i've allotted for my day.

and i've also started to become terrified for the time when the 40 days is up.  not counting calories has been a really big step in my recovery.  what if i'm not able to refrain from calorie counting when i introduce alcohol back into the equation? what if i try to go overboard on running (again)? what if...

yeah.

if it was one of my friends saying things like this to me, i'd give the advice i always do: wasting time worrying about this in advance of the actual situation is not helpful.  and so, i keep up the meditation and the yoga.  i practice.  and i trust that i can keep flying that line between the sea and the sun.

instincts don't lie

i don't normally talk about my dating life. (ahem, i don't usually talk about it on my blog.) but i've gotta get this story out.

i've been on this 40 day journey (thanks to my BFF kitty), and i didn't want to date during it. i had deleted dating apps. i was spending time with myself, and with my friends. i was totally loving that: i was the one helping others with terrible dating situations and saving them from bad dates. i was the one fixing others' dating profiles and deciding whether they should accept a date.

but, while chuck was visiting for the past two weeks, i re-downloaded tinder (a dating app that tells you if you have common facebook friends). i wanted to play on it with him. this one guy that popped up had something like 35 common friends with me, and he was into some of the same things i was. so, i swiped right (tinder speak for "liked" him). i chatted with him a little, though i felt he was a little aggressive in his texting and pushing toward an immediate date.

so, against my instincts, when he asked me for a date last night, i considered it. turns out last night was night 40 of the 40 day journey. of the two friends staying with me for the past two weeks, chuck had left yesterday morning and matt had plans last night. so it kinda seemed like the date was supposed to happen. i decided it was fated.

from the beginning there were disasters: he wanted to meet at my apartment, but of course i suggested the local cute bar instead. he texted me 15 minutes after he was supposed to arrive saying he was leaving his apartment and would be there soon. he then proceeded to ask me to sext him while he was on his way to speed the time along. i told him i was cool; i was texting a student about something. i also assumed he would jump in a cab and be there in five minutes since he was so late. i was wrong again. he showed up at 9:39 (ok, yeah, i was like five minutes late, but still, he was 35 minutes later than me!).

once he was there, he said, "oh, you were texting a student? what do you teach again?" me: sexual health. him: "oh, so you're like into... ummm... condoms?" me: yeah, they're my fav. him: "i don't believe in them. and i've never had an STI. i believe in natural immune functioning."

ok. yeah. cool. believe in what you want. but that cavalier approach to dating isn't gonna cut it with me. especially when you lead with that. especially when that's what i study. especially when you seem like a high quantity dater (remember the "sext me while i'm on my way"?!).

and yet, i decided to give him a chance. i thought, "maybe he is just coming across poorly through texts," "maybe he is just trying to impress me with his yoga-ish philosophies," "we couldn't have so many friends in common if he is actually such a douche." so. i committed to another hour.

the hour was rough:
he touched my leg, i asked him to step it back.
he pulled his shirt up, i said that isn't what i meant.
he kissed me, i said i wasn't comfortable with this.
he kissed me again, i said you aren't listening to me.
i told him i was tired and wanted to go to bed, he asked if that was an invite.

now, some people have trouble reading social cues. but come on. this is not what was happening here. i was being clear. i wasn't drinking. i knew what was happening, and it wasn't cool. by the time i convince him that i'm going to be sleeping alone and that he is going back to his apartment, he still seems to think things are going well, telling me that i have great energy and that we fit so well together. UMMM, WHAT?!

so he gets his stuff together and we walk to the door. this is when i realize that he has a backpack and laptop with him.

now, we had both finished our respective yoga classes, gone home and showered, and then met. which means he brought a backpack and laptop to meet me for a drink. which means he clearly expected to be staying over.

(yeah, ok, so chuck and i joked all week about taking backpacks on dates because my house was so full of people. but it was a joke. because who takes a backpack to meet someone they don't even know?!)

at this realization, i felt sick to my stomach. i felt like i had been punched. i felt like i had been tricked. i felt like i had been taken advantage of. i just felt plain shitty. like super shitty.

when he got home he texted me: "good night. sweet dreams! xxx"

no. it wasn't a good night. and there were certainly no immediate dreams in my future. i spent the rest of the evening trying to make myself feel ok with what had happened. it wasn't until i talked it through with anthony and matt this morning that i figured out what i was feeling the worst about.

i had felt uncomfortable about him from the beginning. but i went through with the date anyway. that was ignoring my inner guide. that was pushing back uncomfortable feelings and ignoring them. that was typical old-spring behavior. and i think the reason it felt so freaking terrible was because i'm not used to doing that anymore. i've been re-training to trust myself. to trust my instincts. to believe that they are there for a reason.

so, even though that story now supersedes all the others as my worst date story, i did learn something valuable. 1) i trust myself now. so much that it feels uncomfortable not to. 2) i know that trusting my instincts is what i need to do. i won't doubt myself again.

and you know what? that's kind of a miracle right there. i freaking did a handstand in the middle of the room in yoga last night! i am trusting myself. so, yeah. 40 days to miracles. and here i am. living miracles.

thanks to all my super amazing supports.

you all are miracle workers. xo

my letter to y'all

i'm grateful for my friends. (like really really really really really grateful.) i'm pretty sure i have the most amazing friends in all the world. you all support me through everything and make my life worth living. you each have taught me so many things. (i want to do shout outs to every single one of you!!)

i'm grateful for my family. i hear other people talk about their families; i realize how lucky i am to come from a loving family.

i'm grateful for my parents. my parents gave us everything. they are the best parents two girls could have. they continue to parent me from across the world.

i'm grateful for my sister. my sister is an amazing woman and an amazing partner in crime. sister perverts forever.

i'm grateful for all of my experiences. even the sucky ones. they got me here.

i'm grateful for my education. i'm so thankful to be as fortunate as i am and to have all the education and training i've received.

i'm grateful for getting to live all over the world. and for travelling. and for seeing.

i'm grateful for sunshine. i love the sun.

i'm grateful for being well nourished. in every way.

i'm grateful for my body. i will not forget this. i'm grateful for what my body can do.

i'm grateful for yoga. i freaking love yoga. and what it does for me. and what it offers me.

i'm grateful for a job i love. umm. i get to talk about sex at work.

i'm grateful for my home. i live in a beautiful space that i feel so comfortable in.

i'm grateful for living in sydney. (the best city in the world.)

i'm grateful for pumpkin. and grateful that sydney will put pumpkin on or in every type of food.

i'm grateful for coffee. every morning i'm grateful for coffee. i'm even more grateful when one of my besties brings it to me in my bed. (thanks matt!)

i'm grateful for sparkling water. who knew i could love water?

i'm grateful for my mannequin. roxie: you go, girl.

i'm grateful for blackmilk. (come on, you knew this would be on the list!)

i'm grateful for workaholics. for entertainment. for being able to laugh. for enjoying laughter. for laughing hysterically and making people think there's something alarmingly wrong.

i'm grateful for shamika (my phone). she keeps me connected to friends near and far.

i'm grateful for love. all the love around me. big big big love. xo

attracting abundance

"we only receive what we ask for. but we must know what to ask for. and we must also know to ask." elena brower quoted douglas brooks in a yogaglo class i took a few days ago and i freaked out. i was like, "yeah. YEAH! so freaking true!" and so freaking hard. it requires quite a bit of bravery to know these things, and to accept the abundance that comes. i'm practicing saying these things. so i can get used to believing them.

i am grateful for what i have.
i welcome all the gifts the day will bring.
i am abundant and free.

in a talk about buddhist ethics and karma, douglas brooks says:

instead of being greedy, we can always be generous. when you're always generous, greed will never appear again. there is nothing to gain. there is nothing to lose. and everything to give.

giving creates abundance. in every realm. recently i was asked to change the time of a yoga class i was teaching, from 7pm to 730pm. changing the time meant that our class would have a bigger, better room to practice in. but also, it meant that i would get home at 945 instead of 915pm (and still without dinner!). i was reluctant to change the time, but i chose to trust that this was going to be a positive shift for the class. tonight was the second class at the new time, and guess what has happened? the class has doubled in size; the energy in the class is insanely amazing; i can't stop smiling and saying how happy i am at the end of each class. the giving of my time and energy to this class has created incredible abundance that i am sooooo grateful for.

abundance comes in many forms. right now one of my bestest friends from the US is visiting me. and all i know is that there is crazy abundance glowing around me. i am so grateful for the love. for the friendship. for the experiences and memories. i'm loving every moment. and i'm love inspired.

#chuckinaustralia

breakfast

what did you have for breakfast this morning?

how we start the day is important for so many reasons. but most importantly, it sets the tone, and can color how we see the entire day. this morning i started my day with an old episode of This American Life.

in the first act of this episode, the question "what did you have for breakfast this morning?" is asked several times. the story is of a young woman who had at one point been hospitalized with anorexia. throughout the piece, she explores both her own and her family's experience of her struggle. when she asks her former hospital roommate the breakfast question the first time, the answer is alarming:

Oh my god, you don't really want to know. Eight ounces of nonfat, plain Stonyfield yogurt, mixed with one whole 35-calorie, non-sodium rice cake, mixed with a five-ounce cup of Kashi cereal, mixed with a half an ounce, one of those little boxes, of raisins, mixed with a tablespoon of flaxseed powder... A cup of black coffee, and guilt.

the level of detail that someone who is pre-occupied with food offers is familiar to me. familiar, and uncomfortable.

when she asks her former hospital roommate the breakfast question the second time, later in the story, the answer is equally upsetting.

I had anxiety laden with a very thin coating of agitation. And it was coupled with a cup of very lukewarm pseudo-comfort, in the form of an anti-depressant.

the amount of attachment she has placed on food is heartbreaking, especially to someone who understands how crippling this can be at times. moreover, starting her morning like that sets up a difficult journey for the day ahead.

starting our day off right, without anxieties and self-depreciating thoughts, is something many people struggle with, whether or not it is related to food. i'm currently working through gabby's 40 days, and this week we are focusing on relationships. today's mantra was about kindness: offering kindness to all those in our day.

"everyone" includes ourselves as well: we need to first offer kindness to ourselves. we are all connected, and being kind to ourselves allows us to be kind to others. modeling kindness to ourselves also teaches others to be kind to us. throughout my day, i practiced kindness toward myself and others--much more consciously than i regularly do. toward myself, i tried to choose needs over habits. in interactions, i allowed myself more time and space with people. in my world, i offered kind words, thoughts, and actions back out.

now, let me be completely honest. some of that was achingly difficult. i didn't like choosing some recovery over a long run. but i did it. i panicked about sacrificing some productivity by staying longer in a meeting with a student who needed a little more time with me. but i did it. i didn't really feel up to smiling and discussing my weekend with a colleague. but i did it. i kept practicing kindness.

so how did it all turn out? some of the kindness went unnoticed. some of it may have been noticed, but i wasn't aware that it was. some of it was brushed off. and some of it was greatly appreciated.

i don't think that's what really matters though. i think it all goes back to the intention: intentions are so important. consciously stating what we want or expect can have radical impacts on our experiences.

so what am i having for breakfast tomorrow morning? more kindness. because we are all continuously creating our lives.

what are you having for breakfast?