choose your own adventure

remember those "choose your own adventure" books? i loved those books like crazy. LIKE. CRAZY. live the version of the story you want? and if you don't like it, you can just read the other version instead? awesome. freaking awesome. give me that. always.

in the real world there aren't re-dos. but there are certainly versions of the story from each person involved. and there are also the various versions of the story we choose to present to the world.

someone that i hurt a while ago, but that i really care about, was talking to me last week about the period of time immediately after "the incident," as well as our friendly relationship now. he said to me: "how was that situation hard for YOU? you ended up getting everything you wanted!"

BAM!
WHACK!
KAPOW!

shot.
straight. through. the. heart.

why did that comment hurt so much: because i felt utterly misunderstood? because i thought we were past it? because i didn't want to relive the hurt? i'm not sure. the truth is, i didn't get everything i wanted out of that situation. in fact, i didn't get the only thing i wanted. sure, i have versions and pieces of it, but i also put a pretty big dent in my friend's trust. and that also hurt me.

so.
much.

it affected my words, thoughts, and actions for weeks. but, at the same time, it was also the catalyst for me starting to make change; for me to examine my words, thoughts, and actions. out of the hell i felt i was in, i found the capacity to start to make shifts. for that, i have immense gratitude.

but it was terrifyingly hard; it was not pretty: it was fucking fiery transformational shit.

and as i keep replaying those words from last week in my head how was that hard for YOU?, i find myself wondering: how many times do we assume something is easy for someone else? how many times do we think we are the only ones hurting in a partnership, friendship, or relationship?

probably a whole fucking lot. when we feel deep pain, we tend to forget about the pain that the other person in the situation is feeling. maybe it's because that person hides it from us. maybe it's because we don't want to admit that they could be hurting too. or maybe it's because we're busy trying to make it look like we aren't hurting.

i certainly spent quite a bit of time posting gorgeous photos of my friends and i doing amazing things during that time.

and then i came home and cried.

hiding our hurt from the world can become a full time job. when my marriage was breaking down, i spent lots of time posting happy things. and when my husband left, my mom said to me, "but you guys looked so happy on facebook!" oh, umm, yeah, i forgot to post "i feel miserable tonight" or "i feel stuck in my relationship and hopeless about changing it" or "here's a photo of us sitting on opposite ends of the couch and not talking as we eat dinner!"

hiding my hurt became second nature. as i think it does for most people.

but why not surrender to it?

being vulnerable, even to those you want to hide it from most, is what this world needs. as i've begun to crack open more, to allow people to see my un-armoured heart, i've found deepened and inspired relationships. i've become happier for real. not facebook-happy: i'm talking happy-happy.

it's hard work, though. letting the masks fall away; showing people genuine pieces of yourself. it's scary. but it is way way way more worth it.

so choose your own adventure.

live the life you really want: tell your mom that thing you didn't wanna tell her; confess your missteps to your partner; call your sister and apologize for that thing you did. ...and tell them how you felt during those costumed times.


show it. live it. and freaking shine on.

angels everywhere

in december 2012 my sister visited me in sydney for christmas. she cried on the day she was scheduled to leave, telling me she didn't feel like she could leave me. when i asked why, she said:

because i feel like you don't love yourself enough.

that one sentence broke my heart and tortured me. for at least a year.

at first i denied it. i tried to convince myself she was wrong. i tried to tell myself that she just saw me at a bad time. i tried to believe that i was happy.

but the reason that sentence kept such a firm place in my mind was because i felt its truth.

i didn't love myself enough. i didn't love my body enough. i was judging myself constantly; i wasn't accepting of anything.

today i went on yoga retreat with kelli. while there, i pulled off my shirt (it was HOT today; take that north american winters--our winter made me STRIP!). after pulling off my shirt, i walked back to her house with only a bra top on. and then i sat there, hunched over, crumpled up a bit on the floor, chatting with everyone for a while.

i didn't really notice anything, but kelli made everyone stop and look at me, saying: look how beautiful spring is; look how she's just sitting there, so comfortable in her own body. look how she doesn't care about fat rolls!

ok. maybe she didn't say "fat rolls" ... but my crazy-mind heard her say that. my crazy-mind was all "oh, now that i'm not stick-skinny you want to call attention to it, bitch?!" ok. again, i'm kidding. kind of.

it's still hard for me to hear some things. being called beautiful because i'm comfortable looking not-skinny didn't used to be my idea of an ideal compliment. but it's actually one of the most beautiful things for me to hear now. (and only a tiny bit hard not to argue back to.)

about two weeks ago another one of my friends touched my belly affectionately. i didn't really notice that either. but he said to me: "oh my god. look at you! you didn't violently suck your stomach in!" i just smiled, wondering what all the fuss was over. but, after hearing it again today, i am starting to hear it: all these tiny shifts are working. i'm shifting this stuff for real. don't get me wrong--it's still there; but maybe it isn't crushing me any more.

themes of retreat today, which are all relevant here: 1) we can shift this shit; we have the power to align with our higher versions of ourselves if we 2) show up and fucking participate in the practice and 3) choose that we want to make that shift happen, because after all, why not 4) start today--instead of waiting until tomorrow to be better?

and so we all meditated about something that we wanted for ourselves in our lives. mine? "i am acceptance." why? because i don't want to judge others. i don't want to judge myself. i want to live without shame (body-shame, self-shame, comparative shame). i want to sit there in my bra top, see my reflection in the window, and be like, FUCK YEAH! (instead of FUCK!). (that's a kelli-ism, stolen from one of her students.)

kelli has this story about the song "gabriel" by lamb. i won't tell you her story, because it is totes hers, but there is this image from her story she tells that haunts me: she is in the rain, pounding her feet to this song: pounding out shame. pounding through feelings. just trying to stop the pain; stop the feeling; and get fucking THROUGH it.

that image just resonates through me. and when i hear that story, i cry. i feel what she feels. i know that experience. it hurts.

but i LOVE hearing that story. i asked her to tell it tonight, at the end of our one day retreat. the vulnerability that she has to work through in that story is inspiring. and i feel that inspiration echo through me in the lyrics (partially copied below):

I can fly
But I want his wings
I can shine even in the darkness
But I crave the light that he brings


I can love
But I need his heart
I am strong even on my own
But from him I never want to part

these lyrics also break my heart though. because it's so true: i have the power to do this, to get through it, to shift, to change, to align with my best self. but, i also want that help. any angel that will stand by me and endure it with me is always welcome.

and the awesome thing about that is that i have fucking angels everywhere. all of my friends. kelli, as a teacher and an inspiration. and me. i have myself.

i am enough on my own; i have the power; i choose to believe it: i am acceptance.

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

being nice

i went for a run with my friend early last evening. we were both a bit tired, but we decided to run anyway. about halfway through the run, when i could feel my energy dropping and my friend beginning to slow, a woman passed us walking in the opposite direction. she smiled at us and said, "you girls look great!"

umm, did you catch that? those four little words that just slid out of her mouth so easily? those words instantly energized and urged us on. my friend laughed and said, "that's just what i needed!" i smiled and said, "how nice was she?!" we finished our run, and we both went about the rest of our evenings with feelings of lightness.

as i walked in to teach my yoga class last night, i thought about how a simple four word sentence had already buoyed my mood for an hour of my night. is it possible that something so small could have such an impact? (if you're unsure, i'll tell you the answer; it's yes.)

in the yoga class i taught last night, i paused a few times to stop and suggest that the class silently tell themselves something nice about themselves. something as simple as "i'm amazing!" or "i am doing this perfectly!" or "i am happy i took this time for myself." when we did a difficult pose, we'd stop and compliment ourselves. when i felt frustration in the room, we stopped to compliment ourselves. in our meditation at the end of practice, we focused on a positive self-talk statement. during class closing, i encouraged the participants to offer genuine compliments to themselves over the course of the next week, as well as to those in their lives.

so. try it. it's easy:
1. give a compliment to yourself.
2. give one to someone else.
3. smile.
4. feel better.

it works. promise. (you're amazing!) xx

thinking myself happy

sometimes i get really freaking stuck in my head. like not just a little stuck. but like really. freaking. stuck. my mind spirals a bit, and i get sucked into its little loop-de-loop, and before i know it, i'm trapped. when it happens, sometimes i'm at a loss for how i got there, and everything seems a bit like dorothy's front yard.

but then, about a month ago i started keeping a gratitude diary (there's totes an app for that!), and i've become obsessed with it. every night i make sure to enter at least one thing that i've been grateful for that day. some days it is hard, i admit. i have to get a bit creative some days like "thanks for.... cancelled meetings." but some days it is super easy, and i have several things that i'm thankful for.

even on the hard-to-find-gratitude days, though, reading back over the previous few days' posts makes me smile and remember that i do have awesome things in my life. even reading the little ones (pumpkin soup! scented nail polish!) gives me a little more buoyancy.

today is an easy day. i'm thankful for some freaking amazing friends today. i'm thankful for my mostly-recovered health today. and i'm super thankful for the ability to keep being thankful.

Perfection = Happiness

Perfection... what a scary word. Just typing the word and beginning to think about what it means gives me a mini anxiety attack. How can I ever reach perfection? By its very definition, I'm sure I can't. And yet, I still keep trying.

I try to accomplish more at work, do more yoga, spend more time with Billy, and still have some time for myself. As I was trying to get the most bang for my buck out of my Thursday, I was cramming in a 30 minute yoga practice posted on yogaglo.com. We were working handstands, and the teacher said something like "being able to float through handstand in each vinyasa wouldn't necessarily make someone happy."

What she said was true, but how often do we think that perfecting that next asana, that next transition, or completing a little more at our jobs will make us happy? Perfecting my handstands is a goal of mine; something that drives my yoga practice. And, I'll admit, the thought of the perfect handstand makes me a little giddy at the potential happiness that will so obviously accompany it. I always want more chances for perfection, for the happiness of perfection.

On Friday, at the conclusion of a hectic week where I felt I hardly accomplished anything, I told Billy that I wanted a re-do for the week. I wanted to start again and try to make it perfect. Billy told me that, luckily, I do get a re-do: the next week. And after that, another week. There's always another week, and another chance to make it perfect.

Hmmm. Sounds eerily familiar. Similarly, I always get another day for my yoga practice. I always get another opportunity to perfect that next asana... not that it will be perfect the next time; not that my perfect trikonasana one day will even be perfect the next time I attempt it.

And that's the crux of it. The practice, the doing, the day-to-day, is the perfection. Returning to something, committing to it, giving myself over to it, and being it. ...that provides me with perfection: the perfection that I experience in each day. Not the perfection of a pose, not the perfection of a completed job--but the perfection of simply being and doing. And there's happiness right there in that perfection.

That revelation may seem mini, but it's slightly earth-shattering for me. Maybe my life is perfect. Maybe I can be happy with that perfection.

So the next step in my practice (both on and off the mat) is to recognize that each day's perfection is another chance for happiness. If I just allow it.

A box of happiness

This morning one of my friends told me that he put a postcard I sent him in his keepsake box, a box that he goes to for positivity when he feels down. I was touched by the sentiment. But, I also felt a twinge of excitement, like one might feel on Christmas Eve. A box of happiness, I thought… what an amazing thing to have!

I want happiness in a box. Some happiness I can access when I need it, happiness that I can take from as I please. I don’t expect to always just be able to find it; I would pay for it, especially if it was packaged in a pretty box with a pretty ribbon. And, because I’m a good shopper, I would naturally find it on sale and score a great bargain. And I would buy some for all of my friends. Imagine my popularity!

But, of course, as a yogini, I have to say all that I need I already have. No shopping required: it’s inside of me. The happiness is there, waiting to be accessed.

But if that’s really true, why is it so hard sometimes? I’ve been particularly stressed for the past couple of months: lots of visiting with friends, sandwiched between lots of travel, smothered with lots of work and conferences. That recipe of busy has left me feeling really depleted and like I don’t have any happiness for myself, much less any to offer to share with my friends, family, or yoga classes. I haven’t even blogged (ack!).

Hearing from my friend this morning that my postcard meant so much was a reminder: I do have that reserve inside, and apparently I am sharing it, even at times when I may not realize or remember it. In fact, recalling the short conversation with my friend ignites a spark of happiness in my heart. And deep down I know that my heart has endless happiness contained within it.

Now, to figure out how to unwrap the rest of it.

The more I think about it, though, even my friend’s box of happiness was coming from within. I mean, after all, he was using tangible things to remind him of happiness he had previously experienced. So certainly tangible reminders can work to tap into happiness stores. And I found that spark while remembering the conversation I had this morning. So reminders of warm conversations with friends can find some happiness.

But I want to take these sparks and stoke them. I want to be warmed by the fire of my happiness, not just reminded of it.

So my challenge for my next yoga practice (two hours from now!), and your next yoga practice, whether it’s today or next week, 10 minutes or 90 minutes: start with a morsel of happiness. Focus on that bit of happiness and remember how your heart felt, how your body felt, how you felt during that time. Spend a few minutes focusing on the warmth of that happiness.

Then, use that as your intention for your practice. Offer that small kernel as a beginning. And then? Explore. Open. Begin to unwrap. Keep searching. Offer a little more warmth to yourself as you need it throughout your practice.

Find the inner box of happiness. Open it! And then maybe try to share a little with others you encounter.