retreating to my mermaid cave

i do a lot. and then i do a lot more. i spend most evenings outside of my home; meeting friends, going to yoga classes, working out, having drinks, going to museums... anything that pops up and looks interesting. but it can also be super taxing emotionally and physically--and then i need time and space to recover.

and i think all of my best friends are a bit like that as well: i tend to be drawn to people who aren't afraid to try new things, and to do it at the drop of a pin... but i'm also attracted to sensitive people who actually need their own self-care time.

butttttt... i ignore that i need the down time. if someone says at 7pm, "hey; what're you doing? wanna have a quick drink?" i think, "umm, actually, no. i'm super tired; i need to get up at 6am." but what i say is, "yeah, sure! see you in... 20?"

wednesday night bal and i went to see the coffee ground reader. while he was reading my grounds, he said to me, "you're a mermaid. you need more mermaid time; you need to spend more time in your cave."

and bal started cracking. the fuck. UP. it's true. and most of my friends know it's true. i push myself a little too much sometimes. like last night. i had a friend last minute ask for a catch-up.

i thought, "i'm exhausted!"

i said "i'd love to!"

and then i got home, started to run a bath, and thought, "what. am. i. doing. right. now. this. is. in. sane." and texted a semi-cancellation: i asked to change plans slightly to something more low-key. ok, so i didn't fully get mermaid time, but it's a step in the right direction!

this morning in yoga SJ taught a theme of knowing when to step back. oh, synchronicity, how i love you.

there are so many areas of our lives where we need to know when to step back. but there are equally as many when we need to know when to jump off the cliff. i've been doing a lot of jumping lately. i feel nervous about most of the things happening in my life in the last month and the next two months. going to uluru with some girls i don't know? wearing my heart on my sleeve all the time instead of only very rarely? going to NZ with a lovely girl i met once? leading big team meetings with important researchers? risking comfort and security to move across the world (again)?

yeah. jumping.
and, luckily, mostly flying.

it's so hard to know when to keep leaping and when to pull back. but we all need that balance; we all need to continually search for that space where we are making decisions from our heart, and feeling at peace with ourselves and our choices.

so, in other words, if i text you a cancellation, beg for a re-schedule, or just don't make a plan with you right away, please forgive me; right now i'm needing my mermaid time.

but that doesn't mean i don't love you. just spending a little time loving myself up. {insert dirty joke here}

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.

i am full

there's a quote by george bernard shaw that inspired the biennale of sydney this year: "imagination is the beginning of creation. you imagine what you desire, you will what you imagine and at last you create what you will." i took a photo of the lights proclaiming this sentiment last night, and i'm experiencing them today. i've spent a lot of time dreaming lately; manifesting what i want in my life. and today i started to really see it.

today i went on a mini yoga retreat. just a one day thing. but it was pretty freaking amazing.

we were lying in savasana after the first practice of the day and kelli came around and gave us adjustments. on me, she did a motion with her hand on my forehead as if she was opening my third eye. moments later, i had this weird image come into my mind: a belly button. i was viewing it, thinking, why is there a belly button in my mind's eye? then, i kind of popped through it. it was suddenly very bright in my mind's eye, and these black and white images of women's faces floated by. all of the images looked similar to family members i knew, but they weren't my family's faces. the age of the women ranged from babies to old women.

i started crying, and my whole body was trembling a little.

we came out of savasana, and the thoughts in my head swirled: "i am full. i am here. i am ready." i didn't consciously think these things, and i still don't really know exactly what they mean. but i agree with them.

i told the story to OCS, who i was on the retreat with, and he suggested that it was my family sending me love. i told kelli the story, and she suggested that it was my grandmother and passed relatives telling me that they were there for me, supporting me.

i don't know what it was. but all day the sense of trembling has stayed with me. and i'm sitting here, home on a saturday night blogging, thinking that i feel different. i can't really explain how i feel different. and i can't really analyze how i feel about the new feeling. but i'm sitting with it, and remembering that sense of fullness that overwhelmingly came over me this afternoon.

another thing that kelli said to me today was that i was 180 degrees from where i had been at this time last year when i had been on retreat with her in bali. (love you so much kelli!)

i kind of brushed it off, but when i thought about it, i realized she was right. i didn't freak out when i didn't do cardio today. i didn't freak out when she served us a lunch with cheese. i totally committed to the retreat today and didn't even pick up my phone or look at a clock for the whole 8 hours. most of these things wouldn't have been possible even two months ago. and then i came home on a saturday night and blogged about it.

i am different. i've been really busy filling myself up recently, and i think it's working. i have come so far. and i am ready and excited for what's next. #miracles

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.