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

better, stronger

my friend shanil told me this morning "just because you can't do pull-ups, doesn't mean you're not strong." word, brother, word: sometimes you don't know how strong you are.

when my life completely shifted a year ago, without warning, i was worried. i was worried about myself, worried about my life, worried about what people would think and say, worried about my parents, worried about my future... let's say i was just plain WORRIED. a year later, i can hardly believe where i am. i have moved on, and continue to move on, with my life in a lot of ways.

now i feel loved and supported by friends in ways i never knew possible. i have a real family right here in sydney. i have more love in my life than i have ever felt before. and i am so super fucking thankful for all the shifts and changes in my life. y'all know who you are.

thank you.

my infrastructure

stories: they can be so important. i love my stories. i love to tell my stories. and i get really mad when people interrupt my stories.

sometimes i think about what my stories say about me: what do people really hear when i tell my stories? do they interpret them the way i think they do? this morning i was listening to a podcast on the train. the last lines of it sent shivers down my spine:

"the stories we tell about ourselves: they're almost like our infrastructure, like railroads, or highways. we can build them almost any way we want to. but, once they're in place, this whole inner landscape grows around them. so maybe the point here is that you should be careful about how you tell your story. or at least conscious of it. because once you've told it, once you've built the highway, it's very hard to move it. even if your story is about an angel that came out of nowhere and saved your life. even then, not even the angel herself can change it." from NPR's This American Life, episode 504, How I got Into College.

so there i was, sitting on the train. and all of the sudden i'm visualizing this vast inner-transport system. the veins and arteries have become floating roads and magic, jetsons-style transport tubes. i imagine little cars and people zooming around this whole environment i've created over the course of my life. they'd be so lost if i tried to uproot the organized system; how would one find the route to my thoughts? to my heart? would an angel sweep in and try to help them understand why i had tried to uproot the system?

we do become so attached to these stories we tell. we become attached to the meanings we have created for them. and we get upset if people try to challenge our stories.

my little baby sister got married a few months ago. we were there, his family was there: the families were mingling, mixing their stories. my parents told my sister to tell her "rattlesnake story." my sister refused, saying that we all disagreed with her 8-year-old memory's version of the story. everyone encouraged her to tell it. she did: she told her version of what she remembered and has been re-telling for years. my parents had different recollections, and tried to correct and convince her of some of the mistakes. my sister refused to believe the corrections, though, insisting that it happened to her; her version was the correct one.

what does it really matter if the way she tells her story isn't entirely factual? she knows herself through this story. we all know ourselves through our stories. if someone tried to correct my version of any of my stories, i would shoot them daggers with my eyes. my stories are mine. they make me.

but back to this idea of choosing to shift or change our stories. even when we decide to consciously shift the way we think about something, or to try to let go of something, it can be very difficult. like, more than difficult. but maybe just acknowledging how hard it is, how this shifting requires lots of other changes. imagine the whole city inside yourself: after a shift, all the inhabitants would require training to find things, new maps, new roads in some places, new off-ramps, the googlemaps would have to be updated.... the list is endless. so just acknowledging that each little story shift can take a lot of getting used to: that's my new way forward. well, that and keeping my fingers crossed for tele-transport technology.

allowing an opening

today i am letting go of old stories: of people in my life that have left; or things i thought were true about myself. i am grateful for the people that were in my life--for what they taught me and shared with me, and for what i learned about myself through my experiences with them. i am happy for their new lives; i am happy for the space and opportunity to invite new people in to my life. i am grateful for the person i am today because of past interactions. i am excited about the new world that is today. it is sunny and full of love. and so am i.

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.

fear is just fear

"fear is just fear," someone said to me last night. well, duh. what else would it be? fear is fear! and it is scary. it gets in your way. it holds you back. in fact, it can be pretty fucking crippling at times!

but, then i thought about it a little more. she was right. fear is just fear. fear is... just fear. fear is: just fear! it isn't reality. it isn't happening. it isn't even more likely to happen than the alternative!

which is weird, because the amount of attention that we focus on fear would imply that it is a definite--that it is something we need to prepare several months for. but, in fact, whatever fear we have about a situation is only one side of the coin. what about the other awesomeness that might happen--the other awesome outcomes that we haven't even considered?

i'm not saying we shouldn't fear things. because the absence of fear isn't exactly a good thing. fear is an evolutionary mechanism; we need fear. but over-analyzing and focusing on fear can be counter-productive.

so, my new challenge: every time you feel fearful of a decision, a situation, or a possibility, consider the amazing outcomes that are also possible. ...and then, every time you feel the fear creeping in, balance it out with the amazing and awesome possibilities.

balancing fear with awesomeness is just one more step of moving our yoga asana practice into our lives and being a little more balanced in general.

because, after all, fear is just, well, fear.

results vs cost

this morning, after teaching a yoga class, a regular in my fitness and yoga classes came up to ask me some questions about losing weight: what was my routine; how could she drop those last couple of pounds? this isn't unusual, and i have a standard response i usually give. but, knowing that this woman was one of the most fit participants i work with, i was a little concerned. as i began to answer, i sensed that there might be a little more behind the question.

she explained how she was trying to lose weight for an important upcoming occasion in her life, and how she has been eating 1500 calories a day and spending 2-3 hours at the gym (before and after work) for the past several months. her frustration was apparent as she explained that she had initially lost some weight, but that she hadn't lost any for the past couple of months, and that she had actually gained a pound this past week.

i took some time to explain to her fluctuations in our bodies, and the fact that muscle weighs more than fat. i also explained that she actually needed more calories to sustain the amount of activity she was doing--even to lose weight, her body actually needs more calories. i cushioned this information, telling her i knew it was hard to hear.

that's when she started crying and told me about how her partner wanted to see "results!" ...how he expected to see a change in the scale numbers if they were paying so much for her gym memberships and losing out on so much time together. i suggested that a scale wasn't the best way to see these "results" and reminded her of the story she had told me the week before about how she had out-adventured her partner while they were on vacation. she has stamina, endurance, is healthy... and looks great. can the scale measure that? there are many better measures of fitness... and of happiness.

the story she told me about her partner brought tears to my eyes, and i was reminded of a hurtful experience in my own life. at one point in my life i had gained some weight and then worked hard to lose it. i had lost more weight than i had put on, and was feeling happy with my body. i was with my boyfriend at a large mall and i was trying on a dress. i couldn't decide between two sizes, and my boyfriend said "well you might as well buy the smaller one, because you're going to keep losing weight, right?" i didn't NEED to lose any more weight, but that comment burned itself into my brain. i didn't let it upset me outwardly, but that now-ingrained sense of "why not lose just a little bit more?" feels strongly connected to that day.

having a partner suggest that you need to change is hard to hear. but when it is unfounded, or perhaps spoken from a place of alternate purpose, it can be devastating to hear.

so when i heard this beautiful woman sharing a piece of her story with me, a piece that resonated so strongly with harmful consequences in my own life, i felt my heart breaking for her. i hugged her. i told her to cut back a little on the exercise and sneak in a few more calories. i told her to look for a little more balance... while saying i didn't have the answers, and i still needed more balance. my heart was breaking for her, but it was also re-breaking for me. for that part of my inner self that i am not very compassionate with. for that part that i don't forgive and hold accountable for every calorie. for that part that doesn't ever get a day off.

talk about a hard start to the day! i began to notice my inner rage at the expectation of perfection. of people expecting their partners to be perfect. at media teaching us there is only one acceptable size and shape. at society for reinforcing that message.

but mostly at myself for buying into it. no matter how much i outwardly shame the thin ideal, the dieting culture, the fitness crazes, my brain is still stuck in it.

oddly enough (or perhaps not coincidentally at all), the yoga class i had just finished teaching when this conversation happened had a theme of balance and inner stillness. this morning we worked on balancing poses throughout the flow, looking for bits of stillness in our breath and our practice all along the way. so now i can go back to that theme, and look for the pause between the thoughts. look for that little bit of space that will soften the thoughts and the anger. i know this will offer compassion. that this will bring some peace. (need some inner peace or compassion? meditate with me!)

and my fingers are crossed for every other individual who is struggling, in whatever way. my compassion is with you today. x