illusions of control

control. even the word sounds a bit harsh.

do we ever really have control over anything in our lives? i'm going to argue no. sure, i think i have control over what time i'm going to wake up when i set my alarm the evening before. and, more than likely, i will wake up when it goes off. but, i might not hear it if i had a restless night. i might turn it off in my sleep and not realize it. my phone battery could die if the phone wasn't properly plugged in. or, my phone may just decide that it's mad at me for overuse and not play the alarm in the morning. (ok, well, that last one probably wouldn't happen, but i wouldn't blame my phone for that response!)

i'm someone who likes to have control. when i don't have it, i look for other areas of my life where i can exert some control. and, when i think i have control over something, i get really upset if something goes against what was planned.

one of the (highly destructive) forms of control i exert in my life is over food and exercise. i count calories every day. every pretzel i eat. i keep track of all forms of activity. including all of my walking each day (i walk a lot, and i measure every minute). i balance out these two things with as much detail as possible. and, when i feel like something gets a bit off-balance, i binge and purge. as in, i eat 5 meals worth of food and then throw it all up. some of you know this. some of you don't... don't freak out or worry about me if this is new information to you; i am in "control" of the situation. ;)

i don't often resort to this extreme response. but, when i do, it has a bit of a wrecking ball effect: i feel ashamed and beat myself up about it for at least the following 24 hours.

in my married life, i became accustomed to binging and purging whenever i was alone. usually both of us were home in the evenings. which meant i never had an opportunity to binge and purge. some days i would crave that release so much, but i wouldn't be able to do it. so, eventually i began to do it every time i was alone because "who knows when i will have another opportunity?"

i've just realized that this "alone = binge/purge time" equation got conditioned into my psyche. eventually, i was afraid to be alone, because i felt like i was going to engage in this behavior by conditioned response, whether or not i "wanted" to. if my partner left town for a week, i got really nervous about how i would manage so many nights of either 1) consistently fighting the urge to binge and purge or 2) feeling the negative impacts of engaging in it every night. when my partner moved out permanently, i had this intense fear that i would drown in bulimia, that it would take over my life again, that i wouldn't be able to live my life because of its hold on me.

that happened a little, but not as much as i expected. the reason? i found substitute distractions. (note i did not say that i found good substitutions.) instead of managing the emotions i was feeling, i went about it from the other end: i decided i would just make sure that i wasn't often alone. i decided to control the circumstances. that means that any night that i didn't have plans with friends, or a yoga class that got me home after 9pm, i'd make a date. i didn't care who with; i just needed to be out of my house for another hour or two.

i don't think i even did this consciously. it's something that i've just realized over the past three weeks of NOT going on any dates. (my friends say: "i don't even know who you are!" clearly i've had a lot of dates over the past year.) so. umm, now i have to be alone at home, and that scares me. and i'm realizing it scares me because it is an opportunity to binge and purge. well. it seems i don't have my shit together. who knew?

so now i'm noticing that the 9-date-a-week plan didn't serve me so well. i thought i was having fun; i thought i was managing; i even kind of thought i was thriving. but, upon lots of recent reflection, i realized that i've just been in limbo.

----------enter the next big emotional hit----------

guess i better try something different this time. so now i'm doing what i didn't do the first time: reflecting, changing, growing. being by myself. and i've been trying to let go of my need for control. when i notice the anxiety about food, exercise, or being in my house alone, i look for the opportunity for growth in the response. it's only been a short time, but i'm doing it. instead of approaching time alone with fear, i've begun to look for the opportunities there. i've opened up to seeing love there. and i'm forgiving myself for the time i spent not doing that. #thanksgabby

and i think it's working. i met a friend for lunch today, one that i haven't had a chance to really catch up with in a few months. after lunch she sent me an email saying:

It was soooooo good to see you. I am very happy to be friends with such a vibrant, gorgeous woman who lives life a little differently... I am very grateful there are people like you in the world.

then, later this afternoon, a co-worker who hadn't seen me in a few weeks told me: "you seem different... more connected maybe?"

with evidence like that, who needs control? i'll take comfort in the love and support i have all around me. and thanks KR for all the 40-day motivation. xo

i choose, umm, the easier option, please?

imagine you're at a restaurant, and you're really hungry. you're provided with two equally-priced options: 1) you go pick all the ingredients up from the garden and store, bring them back to the restaurant, help prep them, help cook them, help set the table, and then you can eat the dinner. or, 2) you eat the exact same meal, but three hours sooner, since the restaurant has already done the prep-work for you.

well, i don't know about you, but if i'm really hungry, i'm going to choose option two. because it's easier. and just because i don't mind working for things, and i actually like cooking, that doesn't mean that i wouldn't choose the easier option in this situation. it seems to offer the same results with noticeably less time and effort.

while this analogy isn't perfectly aligned with life's choices, we can still find similarities. just because option two allows us to get to the result more quickly, there are potential trade-offs: by choosing option two, we've missed out on an experience, an opportunity. maybe we lost a chance to learn some new techniques or lessons. we probably wouldn't appreciate the final product as much either. so maybe option one seemed easier at the time, but maybe option two would have made many other situations easier in the future.

recently i had a really close friend tell me that she had liposuction about a year ago. she hadn't told anyone about it, but she was starting to shift some of her thinking around her experience, and she shared her experience with me. before i continue, let me set the scene: this is a young, beautiful, athletic woman. my sister once commented on a photo of this young woman saying something like "wow, she's beautiful! is she your friend??" additionally, she's in a loving relationship.

but, she suffers from some insecurities. before her surgery, her thinking patterns were telling her "you don't look good enough; the easiest way to change this is through a surgery." after the surgery however, she has come to realize that she took what she thought was the easiest option to make herself feel happier. it didn't work. because the option she chose wasn't the easy option. it wasn't the better option. it just seemed that way at the time.

in gabby bernstein's 40-day guidebook "may cause miracles", she says:

our fear-based minds believe that change is tough and self-reflective work is difficult. but let's face it: being consumed by fear is far more difficult than showing up for love--we're just tricked into thinking fear is "easier" because it's more familiar. when people at my lectures complain that change takes too much time and energy, my response is, "it takes a lot of time and energy to feel like crap, right?"

this excerpt reminded me of something one of my favorite yoga teachers, christina sell, said at a workshop once. she was talking about a relationship of hers. she said that she was thinking of ditching the relationship because she thought it would be easier than working through all of the hard stuff in the relationship. she received some advice from one of her teachers that said something to the effect of "think of how hard and painful it will be to end this relationship."

no option is ever really and truly easy. but for some reason we trick ourselves into thinking that the fearful responses are easier. personally, i love to avoid things. my go-to move when something sounds difficult or time-consuming is to simply distract myself with something else. i don't know what i expect to happen: that the situation will just sort itself out? that someone else will take care of it? that a magician will appear with a wand to make it disappear? secretly, yeah, i guess i'm constantly keeping my fingers crossed for my fairy godmother to appear.

but, since, let's face it, that isn't an entirely realistic option, i've started to do some work to address this fearful thinking. as i've started doing this work, i've discovered it's much easier than i expected it to be. i've been addressing things that i haven't addressed in over a year: contacting people to sort things out; being honest and open with people that i thought wouldn't accept me if i had those conversations with them.

and yeah, gabby, it DOES take a lot of energy to keep fighting myself, to put myself down, to feel judged. so why in the heck would i want to continue to do it? (umm, i don't.) those habitual responses seem easier, since i'm so accustomed to them. but they aren't necessarily easier. and they most certainly aren't better.

in the yoga class i taught tonight, we practiced identifying these options on our yoga mat. yeah, it seems easier to let the floating leg just hang out and relax. because we think "relaxing is easier than working." but really, as experienced yogis know, "a tight leg is a light leg." and then we meditated about being open to seeing different options, the non-habitual responses, in our everyday lives. if you're a yogaglo subscriber (or wanna try a free sample membership), here's a good centering meditation by elena brower to try to start to bring you in to this frame of mind.

i'm re-wiring. i don't want the anxious avoidance to be ever-present in my life. i want to choose love. i want to be there, happy and calm, to see what happens when i consistently choose love. will it be harder? will it be easier?

who cares? it will be better.

chrysalis

yesterday i listened to a podcast about black boxes. you know: when something goes in and something else comes out, but we don't really know how or why. both the scientist and the yoga instructor in me were fascinated by the three stories. the last part of the podcast, "goo and you," was about caterpillars, butterflies, and that mysterious black box in the middle: the chrysalis.

so, i didn't know this, but apparently we don't know a whole lot about how caterpillars shed one body and become a whole new being. but, we do know some things. first of all, we know that if you condition caterpillars to be fearful of a certain smell, they will retain that conditioning once the become a butterfly. which means: they aren't a whole new being; they carry with them memories (painful memories) from their past life. also: if you cut open a caterpillar, you can find the beginning of wings held inside their bodies. which means: their future self, their next evolution of themselves, is already growing in their current self. ummm. woah. that's pretty crazy, right?!

and that begs the question: what of my future self is in me right now? ...and how can i nurture it? how can i foster its development and growth so that it truly blossoms?

and, how can i guarantee that i've learned the lessons from my past life? how can i make sure that i keep those past life experiences close to my heart without letting them fully define me?

well, yoga. meditation. reflection. and a heaping sprinkling of love and hope.

i guess i don't really know what's next for me. but i'm excited to find out.

i'll be in my chrysalis. i'll let you know on the other side. x

mistakes were made

i have a friend who loves the quote "mistakes were made." he loves it so much, in fact, that i can't hear the word "mistake" without thinking of him saying that phrase.

"mistakes were made" was made famous by politicians such as Nixon, and further popularized by comedians. the phrase implies that the person speaking the phrase made a mistake, but that they are not at fault for the mistake.

making mistakes: we all do that. admitting there were mistakes: relatively harder to do, but not altogether difficult. owning mistakes: potentially terrifying.

but you know what? if we don't own our mistakes, we don't grow. in fact, nothing really happens at all. so?

make mistakes... just make sure you grow from them.

i'm practicing: releasing the blame, releasing the hurt, offering and hoping for forgiveness. i'm learning; i'm growing. even though the past few days have felt terrible, i can also feel thankful for the opportunity arising from this pain. i'm glad that i've been challenged on my thoughts, words, and actions. my mistakes were made for me (so i could grow), but my mistakes were made for you (so i could grow for you).

i'm anticipating great things happening.
today.
and tomorrow.
for me.
and for those i love.
and i'm super glad for all the love. #twss

xo: KR, AS, MJR

anxieties and realities

i've had this one huge nagging anxiety that has been plaguing me for six weeks: that this one specific person i really care about would reject me. and guess what? two days ago it happened. the amount of pain and hurt that i'm feeling right now is pretty intense. but what's funny is that there is also a sense of calm. because my big fear was just realized. which means i don't have anything left to be anxious about.

but i can't help but think that all of the attention i focused on that anxiety is partially at fault here. where we place attention in our lives is so important. what i failed to realize before is that my anxiety was not reality. it seemed like it was, in spring-world, but that's only because i was putting so much attention there.

placing attention where we need it in our lives can be tricky. i am constantly sidetracked by emotional responses that do not serve me. purposefully placing attention is an art. one of my favorite yoga teachers, elena brower, has a workbook centered around this idea. cue purposeful reflection time.

so today, i took a lot of time for self-care. i practiced confidence and courage. i spent time alone without distractions: lots of walking, yoga, writing, and cooking. i meditated forgiveness. and all of my attention now is on love and happiness. because that's the reality i want to create. and it will have deep roots and deep strength.

pay attention to positives. try some little pieces of happy.

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

universal alignment

it's like sometimes the universe aligns. and re-aligns. and then fucking aligns again. and you're like WOAH. WOAH. WOAHHHHHHHHHH. hold the fuck up. hold. the. fuck. up.

because it's just too much.

and i'm not suggesting it's always a great feeling when this happens. it's intense. things just fall into place. and you don't know what happened. or how it happened. but it all fucking happened. you feel knocked over. you feel broken open. you feel raw. you feel scared. if you're lucky, you also feel connected and supported through that time.

personally, the last week has been a little bit of an emotional week. good mostly. meeting new people: feeling vulnerable in ways i haven't in a long time... which is also a little uncomfortable. re-connecting with distanced friends; deepening connections and ties... which is also sometimes anxiety-producing; not knowing what's next.

because of these things, i've also gradually been letting go of a lot of pain and hurt. i didn't even realize i was letting go of it. i noticed this weekend that i wasn't mad at someone that had hurt me recently. i had been pretty pissed off about this hurt for a couple of weeks, and the realization i had this weekend that i wasn't mad any longer was a little confusing. and then, today, i had two people who i hadn't seen in a few months (one this morning and one this evening) stop me and tell me how radiant and happy i looked. both times i blushed, smiled, and swept it aside. must be the haircut.

then i went to yoga tonight. theme: letting go. physically. through the breath. emotionally. through the heart. just really fucking letting go. easy, yeah?

no.

tears streamed through the entire class. i didn't even know why. i knew i was releasing. i knew i was making space. i knew it felt good.

and then, the universe re-aligned again. one of my nearest and dearest sent me a text saying "i am not in a good space right now" two minutes after i left the yoga room. i was there. i was open and vulnerable and spacious and ready. i felt like i could be there for my friend in a way i hadn't allowed myself to be there for someone before. i felt like i was raw and honest and supportive and strong all at the same time. it was hard. it was scary. not wanting to lose reception on the train for even a second, the tears streamed continuously as i walked the hour home.

another hour later, and here i am on the other side. my heart is hurting for my friend. my heart is forgiving myself. and my heart is shifting and opening for my tomorrows.

thanks to kelli for love and support in yoga tonight; to kitty for her always constant check-ins; and to all my loved ones that are hurting right now. lots of big fucking love to you.