to-do: GO. breathe. Go. Breathe. go. BREATHE.

i have a to-do list going constantly: i re-realized this when my facebook status included mention of it this morning. but technically, i have at least three to-do lists going simultaneously: in my head (immediate things), on my phone (kinda immediate things i'm afraid i might forget), and in my planner (for things a bit more long term). why so many lists? well, that'd be the fault of my brain. my brain really really really likes to be constantly active. i've traditionally had quite a hard time allowing myself to have time for play.

the more i practice at meditating and yoga, though, and the more reflective i get, the more i notice my mind letting go of its eternal need for busy-ness. that letting go process is scary though.

recently i started back in marathon training, doing a lot of 20-30 km runs with one of my friends. i've always loved long runs: they quiet my mind, they give me space, and they make me really skinny. (i don't want to like long runs for that last reason, but i know that i not-so-secretly love them purely for that reason.) recently, though, since i've been able to find quiet in other ways, and i've started to love and appreciate my not-scary-skinny body, i've found that I've started to become afraid of running.

now i find myself worried about the real reason for me going out to do a long run; about how my brain will react to my body if i lose any weight.

while i can identify this fear, i can't seem to shake it. i've been talking about it with a few friends, and this is what i've come to: my mind is better at breathing now, and it's starting to let up on the GO GO GO DO DO DO (OR ELSE!) mindset. yesterday on a run with one of my BFFs, i kept stopping to walk. not because i was tired or hurting, but because, well, i just didn't feel like running. and my mind wasn't crazily forcing me into it either.

and that's the part that is a little uncomfortable: me getting used to a mind that's not so demanding. i've lived so long with my self-termed "crazy mind" that living differently is actually scary. sometimes i find myself quite surprised that i'm ok with lounging in bed for the afternoon or going with a friend for a drive instead of crossing off another thing on my list.

"what happened to spring?" i wonder. and then i think, "wait. what was happening to spring for all those years before?!"

last week i went to a yoga class and kelli talked about "leaning into an uncomfortable feeling" rather than avoiding it. and, i sobbed. (yeah, yeah, i know, "but you always cry in yoga class, don't you spring?") i didn't know why i was crying last week though until the end of class. i realized that i was much better at feeling the crap i don't want to feel now... but i think those tears were mourning all of the years i spent avoiding my feelings; of listening to my crazy-mind and DOING and THINKING things to actively avoid feeling things.

feeling things gives me the vulnerability and self-awareness to be able to give my mind that space, to let it breathe, to take a break. this is the first week of the "mindful in may" challenge that i'm doing with a few friends: we committed to meditate every day. just a few days in and i notice the difference between meditating a few times a week and doing it every day. i was afraid it would be super hard, but a few minutes a day isn't really asking that much, especially now that my mind isn't quite so cray cray with its to-do lists.

so, included on today's revised to-do list?
1. relinquish a little more control,
2. let go of a little more,
3. align a little more with my dream-self,
4. experience THIS moment more fully.

oh, yeah, and...
5. breathe in.
6. breathe out.
7. breathe in.
8. breathe out.

yeah, that feels doable.

Balancing Truths

Balancing on the mat is difficult. There's swaying, adjusting, twitching, and, sometimes, falling. And when I fall, I tell myself, "it's ok... get back up and try again!"

I've learned to do the same thing in my life, which is usually a good thing. But sometimes, my "there's always tomorrow!" optimism can be a downfall. Like when I use it to rationalize my way into doing something destructive.

Have you ever been optimistically destructive? It can be as simple as having a piece of cake instead of some fruit by telling yourself that you'll go back to eating healthy tomorrow. Or it can be a little more destructive.

I'm really good at sabotaging my good intentions by optimism (it sounds like an oxymoron, doesn't it?). The really hard part is being honest enough with yourself to recognize the difference between optimism and optimistic destruction. Being honest with myself is harder than the balancing, and no one can really help me do it. Like everything else, I just need to practice.

One way I practice being honest with myself, though I didn't realize it until I really thought about it, is through yoga. Noticing feelings, whether they are physical or emotional, and deciding what I need to do with the feelings on a moment-to-moment basis, as part of being present during my yoga practice, is teaching me to recognize what I'm feeling and notice how I'm responding off the mat.

Now here's the really scary part... where I bare my experience. Tonight I really wanted to engage in my own special destructive tendencies--binging and purging. It's been a while since I've done it, and my partner was out having dinner with a friend tonight--which meant a few hours to myself this evening. First I wavered in the balancing: walking through the grocery store I picked up and then put down three different items that I thought about buying to take home to eat and throw up. Next, I played games: if I call Billy and he knows I'm thinking about it, then I won't do it because he'll be looking for the signs when he gets home. I also played the optimistically destructive card: "what's one more time; I won't do it for another few months afterward." Then still wavering, I took a long shower to delay my choice.

In the shower I thought about what I was doing, and I practiced being present and identifying what was really going on. I recognized the urge I was feeling as well as the optimistic destruction tendencies I was engaging in. I felt really uncomfortable with the urge, uncomfortable with the responses, and uncomfortable with being forced to make a decision. I felt like I'd lose if I binged and purged, but I'd also lose if I didn't fulfill the urge.

Then I realized that what I really wanted to do was get rid of all of the discomfort.

And, so, finally, I sat myself down in front of the computer to purge some emotions and balance the scales. And here we are. Do I feel comfortable now? Yes and no. I'm certainly standing back on two feet... but I've also exposed more than I typically like to. ...What I feel best about is the moment where I allowed myself to be fully present and honestly assess where I was and what I was feeling. Hey, it's practice.