rose-colored life

i live in new york city, so i've heard a few car horns. ok, i've heard a lot of car horns. this morning i was walking with a friend and he screamed back at a car stuck in traffic "why are you honking? what do you think is going to happen?" i laughed and said that the people honking in the cars were likely very upset about a lot of things, and that they didn't know how to express those emotions in their lives. so? they honk.

"honk" is my new shorthand for "wah wah wah, i don't know how to properly process this!"

we're all guilty of this occasionally, of course.

what's funny about my response to the above story is that i immediately replied with compassion to the people polluting my environment with noise. but when i fail to process something well, i rarely reply with compassion toward myself.

last night a friend told me that they were dealing with some depression/anxiety issues. i replied with compassion. but when i think about my own issues? i reply with the opposite. "why do i feel this way today? what's wrong with me? why can't i feel this way? why can't i act this way?"

mid-blog writing, i paused for dinner. i ran home while listening to a podcast and then over to a friend's to watch a tv show while eating pizza. in those two instances of media mid-writing, i heard two instances referring to the saying "rose-colored glasses." i've never particularly liked that phrase, because i thought that it kind of makes fun of optimists, and i consider myself to be one most of the time.

in the latest freakanomics podcast, they interview dan gilbert (a harvard psychology professor) about some ads he helped prudential with. when he discusses happiness, and people planning for their hopeful futures, he stated the following:

I love the metaphor of rose-colored glasses. That’s the way to view the world. They’re rose-colored, meaning there is a tint. You are seeing a rosier future than we will really experience. But they’re glasses. They’re not opaque, right? They’re not blinders. You actually are seeing the world. And if there’s a train coming, it’s a little bit rose-tinted, but it’s a train.

i really really liked his interpretation of the glasses. it made me feel hopeful.

and then, mid-pizza, i heard another reference to rose-colored glasses on bojack horseman. a character on the show said "when you look at the world through rose-colored glasses, all the red flags just look like flags." ...and then i felt compassion for that character. it was a potent line, but it didn't dissuade me from wanting to be optimistic about the world. perhaps cautiously optimistic, but still optimistic.

and all of this rose-colored talk reminded me of the compassion i was trying to cultivate toward myself. what if i just slightly altered my perception of myself instead of something more drastic? practicing on others has given me the tools; i just have to reflect the rose-colored tint back inwards.

a rose-colored mirror, if you will.

self-compassion. self-love. hands on heart.

i don't need to suck my thumb anymore

i'll be honest. i don't know what this post is about yet.

my last blog entry was quite confronting. to me i mean. it was scary to post, and the reactions i received from friends were a bit anxiety-producing, even though they were gorgeous replies. but other scary things happened--like a colleague hugging me at an event and saying that i was brave (love you JMS!). oh--i forgot: my blog might overlap with my real life?

my sister called me saying a mutual friend of ours had read my blog and immediately called her saying, "oh, so spring told your mom about her ED?" oh. no. i hadn't. i've never told my parents. because despite them being compassionate, amazing people, i hate admitting any shortcomings to them. and, yeah, i see this ED as one of my biggest failures.

but, that whole blog-in-life idea was now becoming a bit more dangerous. if my mom read my blog, she might feel hurt that i had never shared something with her that i was now sharing with the world. solution? grow the fuck up, i suppose. so, i called my mom.

ok. maybe that doesn't sound like a big deal to you. but, umm, i've been hiding this from my parents for over eight years. it was a big. fucking. deal.

and guess what? it wasn't that bad. my mom was as sensitive and caring as ever. and she sensed that i was in a good head-space right now. she told me she wasn't worried about me, because i had always done whatever i set my mind to. and then she reminded me of what happened on my fifth birthday:

at four and a half years of age, i had a doctor's check-up. as i was wont to do, i sucked my thumb while there. i mean, i was always sucking my thumb, so that isn't interesting. but, what is interesting, is that the doctor told me that children who suck their thumb after five years of age often develop buck teeth. now, even at four, i must've been a bit vain, because that was the scariest threat i had heard in my four years. so i told my parents i wasn't going to suck my thumb anymore once i turned five.

they played along. they let me think they believed me. on my fifth birthday, i didn't suck my thumb all day. by that evening, my parents were a little surprised, but still not convinced. they were sure i wouldn't make it through my bedtime rituals without a thumb for support. but, despite their doubt, i went to bed, tucked my little thumb inside my little fist, and put my lips against the base of my thumb knuckle.

and i never sucked my thumb again.

did you read that? i broke a well-ingrained habit by deciding it wasn't serving me. at five.

my mom's right. i can do whatever i put my mind to. and you know what? any of us can.


and i guess that's what this post is really about. believing in ourselves. without doubt. without self-criticism. without judgement. let's all throw away our security blankets.

with a little determination and lovingkindness toward ourselves, we can break those cycles in our life that aren't serving us. even those thought patterns that drive us crazy sometimes (KR!). so put your mind to it. and do it. i'm doing it right along with you: i've got your back.

teaching the world

in this new year, i'm renewing my commitment to my relationship to myself: renewing the commitment to keep working on it and allowing it to blossom.

i usually find the beginning of a new year a little daunting. i hate making resolutions; i hate putting additional pressures and rules on my life. i just want today to be another day.

but it isn't just another day. it's another year.

this morning i was feeling a little depressed, a little crazy, and a little negative toward myself. i was missing one of my friends, i was reflecting on the past year, and i was feeling a little anxious about the new year.

now. let me revise what i just wrote. see all of those "little" statements? they're lies. i was feeling a lot today. a. lot.

this afternoon i managed to get myself onto my mat for an online yogaglo class with elena. it's a class i've done before; one that i often go to when feeling like i was feeling today. what's funny is that it helps me every time. like somehow i forget the lessons from it.

and then i'm reminded.

at the end of this class, elena says "how we relate to ourselves teaches the world how to relate to us." oh. shit. that's totally what i did not do today. i was freaking mean to myself all morning. i was beating myself up all afternoon. is that what i want from the world? is that what i want for my new year? hell. no.

so when i notice self-negativity, i promise myself that i will use my practice to soften and release it. "teach the world how to treat you by how you treat yourself." yeah. i will. #xo2014

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

Retreating into my Heart Space

Retreating is a funny word. People often think of running away, hiding, giving up, and defeat. And yet, we also go on retreats to relax, have fun, and enjoy ourselves. To retreat or to go on retreat? It seems like an odd question, one that isn't part of our every day lives. But, in reality, it's a question we're constantly faced with: to fear or embrace? To surrender to someone else or to surrender to our own needs? It's so hard to remember, but we always have the choice.

I went on a yoga retreat this past weekend in beautiful wilderness where I got to spend time with lovely people and a fantastic teacher, do about 10 hours of yoga, watch my husband deepen his practice, and remember to feel the strength in my own. I relaxed. I had fun. I enjoyed myself.

But, I also panicked a little here and there. Surrendering to my body's needs and giving it a chance to grow, recover, and balance was hard. Mainly because I have trained myself for several years to ignore everything my body tells me. Foot hurts? Keep running! Stress fracture from running too much? Swim every day! Tired from so much time on crutches and in the water? Don't give up teaching fitness classes! Perhaps you can imagine how my crazy mind gets slightly more insane when it is put out of its comfort zone. When I listen to my body instead of ignoring it, I sometimes get uncomfortable with what it tells me.

But it is a lesson that I desperately want to learn. When I think of that higher, brighter, best version of myself, I visualize a loving person who shows compassion to everyone around her, but, most of all, to herself. Practicing compassion on the mat is becoming easier and easier. I don't feel the need to bind every time I do a twist, or to do a long exhausting practice when I'm already feeling overly tired. Showing compassion toward myself in the rest of my life is way freaking hard, though.

So I went on retreat and focused on practicing that compassion. I practiced and practiced and practiced. When I went for a run in 100 degree heat, I stopped after 15 minutes because it was too hot. Compassion, right? Sure, maybe the best-me wouldn't have forced herself outside in the first place, but it's better than before (I promise, it is). Baby steps into my heart. Baby steps into surrender. Baby steps retreating.