Be Sweet

I've been leaning pretty hard on my mantra these past few days. Repeating it to myself between clenched teeth, searching for my breath, trying to get back into the present where it's all good.

Even with a great plan in place, I still struggle. Example just today: All afternoon I worked to prepare a valentine cake, a pot of bolognese, homemade pasta, all as a labor of love for my three amazing valentines. But as I put the finishing touches on and scrambled to put it all on the table, I found myself short on patience, quick to judgement. Raining on my own parade that was meant to celebrate my lovelies.

All I want to be is sweet. Why is that so hard for me?

Buying Time

It occurs to me that the project work I'm doing right now feels more like a way to extend my current lifestyle (which is, honestly, a refreshingly casual one), rather than a path to financial stability. It fills the large gaps. You could say it's enabling me to remain in career limbo.

The odd thing is, I think I'm okay with that. At least while the gaps are filling. Being financially strapped is NOT the plan I had for my mid-career self. In fact, I was thinking I had momentum. I was feeling my oats and really believing that I was an up-and-comer. So if/when the gap gets bigger, and I'm not seeing a magical way to fill it, there's gonna be a problem.

The thing I really know about myself right now is that I love being here, home, around my kids, watering my plants, feeding my dogs, all that. If I could have this and send my kids back to their school and know that this is my new norm, I would be content. At least for now. While I sort out what my next Big Thing is.

Release

This week of 40 Days is focused on Tapas. This is the heat you build that melts away resistance. The idea is that Tapas helps to detox, rinse away, reset. Stripping away layers that get in the way of possibility and transformation. I can't say enough about how yoga does this for me. It's my reset. Beyond good sex, I haven't found a better release for anxiety or stress.

When I first started practicing at a studio (instead of the random class at a gym, or a dvd) I was in the most toxic work environment I have ever experienced. Whether I found yoga, or yoga found me, it became a regular commitment in my routine. I had NO IDEA what I was doing, but nobody seemed to mind (they were in their own flow, oblivious, as I now understand). And the poses were SO HARD, I was utterly exhausted, dripping sweat and feeling absolutely wrung out after every class. In Savasana I was a puddle of tears, finding total emotional release. All the toxic draining out through my pores, through my tear ducts.

Now that I am stronger (much stronger) and more confident in my practice, I keep wondering if it will get old. If the effect will wear off. But I'm going almost daily for the 40 Days program right now, and the release keeps me coming back for more.

So much of what our brain is doing gets etched into our body. The wiring. The messaging. Twisting and tightening. The physical work, deep into the muscle tissue, extended along the entire spine, this is the work that has to be done to release the mind.

And when we are released? We can feel possibility. We can transform out of old thought patterns, old behavior patterns. We can tap into our inner genius. We can truly bloom.

Vegan Cheat

I am really glad I gave myself the vegan challenge. I get it. I feel better. I like the food. And I want to stay as close to it as I can without disrupting my family's eating preferences.

I held true to the principles for most of January, until I went to Utah and had to fudge a little because I didn't want to be "that girl" who wouldn't indulge in the amazing food being offered. I mean, there isn't a real reason why I can't eat animal based food. So I ate some cheese and some meat, and interestingly I felt the effects of that. It changed my body rhythm.

Food is such a fundamental, and growing up with ample food I don't think I ever saw it as the daily medicine that it is. Put good stuff in and you have better energy, better skin, clearer thinking, a clearer conscience. Simple as that.

I'm avoiding dairy now. That's hard, but almost daily I hear about influential people who shifted their health habits and did the same thing. Our culture of food is shifting. It's good. The next thing on my list to assess is sugar. Word on the street (everywhere) is that sugar is toxic. Time to try eliminating that and seeing how that affects me...

Robin Sharma says you need all of these things for transformation: mindset, heartset, soulset, and healthset. I'm truly working on all four, and while I may cheat, I am doing pretty well on nutrition considering the rotten place I started from (uhm, McDonald's #2 meal anyone??? So Bad!).

Meditation Makes Me Cry

I love podcasts lately. The creative thought leaders inspire me,  and the one I listened to today was no exception. He (Robin Sharma) shared that it is FACT: each and every single one of us has GENIUS inside. Most of us just let STUFF get in the way of it, especially today with all the handheld digital distractions peppering our mind with intermittent focus all day long. Genius requires reflection. Isolation even. It was suggested to cordon ourselves away for 4 hours each day to cultivate our focus and help our genius emerge. I was very excited by this notion and even started visualizing a studio of my own (which shifted to dedicated time at the library, a more practical solution for the time being).

So my pump was already primed when I headed to the 40 Days meeting. We went around the room and shared experiences from Week 3, and there was healthy discussion about meditation. Most of us struggle with it, and think we're probably doing it wrong. Which was debunked by the facilitator, who encouraged us to be less judgmental about it, just relax into it. When she led us in a guided meditation, part of the regular weekly meeting format, I had my mind open to just accepting the thoughts that came, and letting them go. And for whatever reason, I started weeping. Like, made the whole front of my shirt wet weeping.

Now, you tell me what that's about. What is going on in my head to make me crumble at the very small effort of being with my thoughts, being with my breath? I have been avoiding this part of the program. Maybe deliberately. Maybe there's a scary bridge to cross here.

That quote by Rumi: "You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens." This process of learning and growing, stretching, getting stronger, it isn't like a spa experience. Unless it's like a bootcamp kind of spa-weight-loss thing. This is supposed to be uncomfortable. This is work.

Shit. I really gotta meditate, huh?

Work makes Reward

Sitting around just feels like sitting around, unless you've worked hard and you're enjoying a well-earned break. Then it feels like awesome. Like an oasis of rest. Like peace.

Savasana feels like an arrival when I've worked through a tough yoga practice session. I enjoy the rest. I relax into it. I simply lie there and breathe.

Savasana without Asana practice? Can't do it. Not peaceful. I feel anxious, like I need to be doing something. Same with meditation. I never tried that, actually - maybe I should try meditating after just wrapping up a productive (preferably physical) round of effort.

In this still-new chapter of my life, now that I don't have structure dictated to me beyond the school bus schedule, I'm not always chasing things and cramming things into the spare free moments that a corporate career allows for. I make my own structure, yes, but it isn't nearly as demanding right now. And that makes weekends tough lately...because I haven't earned the right to a lazy day. A don't bother to leave the house day.

I need to impose more rigor on my days, so that I make better use of the downtime available to me. I am wasting time. Both productive time, which I need to demand more of, and downtime, which needs to be precious and restorative. I use my downtime far better when it's "earned," having more intention and energy to play with my littles, having creativity for projects and planning things.

Purgatory isn't restful. It isn't rewarding. It doesn't inspire deeper relationships or the building of new ideas. It's just On Hold. And I need to make sure I'm not spending any time here.

Anti-Aging

There is no such thing.

Aging is inevitable. How strange to process the idea that life isn't infinitely sprawled out in front of us. I can sense the path traveled now, and I can sense the finality of the path. I've gone far enough in life to now appreciate that. How strange it is...

A dear friend invited me over for a glass of wine this evening, and she shared with me an interesting question that she asks herself, "What age would I be if I woke up and was the age that I feel?" She asked if I feel 45. I do in the sense of how far I've come, and how tangible life's limit seems to be now. In my body I do, which is cool because I feel that I've finally (in the last 3 years or so) discovered how to access my body, to live in my body, more than I could when I was younger and spent all my time in my head.

But emotionally, mentally? I feel like a gawky, immature, self-conscious twenty-something. My brain is definitely not what I imagined a 45 year old would wield, wise and confident, bold and sharp-witted, worldly and elegant. I'm still a dundering child under this skull most of the time.

My plan is to age, as they say, with grace. To stay fit and get more playful. To be of service and put myself out there, self-consciously or otherwise. To explore my eccentricities and embrace them.

I will be pro-aging, pro-growth, pro-adventure and mystery, and pro-FUN.

Being Available...

My sweet little woke me up at 6 AM, asked for a bucket, and promptly emptied the contents of his poor stomach into it.

In another, earlier version of my life, I would be rushing out the door to make a meeting at the office, juggling instructions to the caregiver (au pair) and feeling rotten that my baby feels rotten and just wants his mamma. Today, I got to caress his forehead, hold the bucket, wipe his face with a cool washcloth, and check on him throughout the morning.

What a privilege that is.

I am in such a battle with myself about being busy enough, being productive enough, earning enough and securing enough future earnings. But part of why I'm here, right now, in THIS spot, is because my family needs me to be available. It's a gift.

I struggle to balance the accelerator of go-go-go against the slower, dragging pace of be-be-be. Sooooo much "should" at work here. The ugly "S" word.

Today the should was small. I heard it. I felt it. I put in a few hours of project work in answer to it. But should didn't rule my day. Today I was grateful that I could be available for my littlest one. He needed me. I needed to be the one he needed.

What would my life look like with this continuous flexibility of being here when I'm wanted or needed? Envisioning that is a powerful exercise. It's me, having a creative outlet to build something, create something (THE BOOK) and turn that into a means to help support my family (yeeeees, I know you're not supposed to create something for money or it kills the purpose, but I have strong enough purpose behind my idea that it will hold up, and I need my dream to be full of abundance thank you very much). I love the vision of coffee with my hubby in the kitchen or on the deck each morning, my office space rich with inspiration, ours dogs sleeping by my feet, me pouring myself into the keyboard, and my littles coming up to hug me hello after they get home from bus stop.

PER-FEC-TION.

Giving myself credit

Rachel Hollis has her conference attendees create a letter to themselves, from the perspective of their persistence, to shed light on just how accomplished each of them is.

Because we forget to acknowledge that. We're too busy telling ourselves about all the stuff we haven't done, all the things that we are NOT. We loose sight of how awesome we ARE.

Some of this questing has given me time to reflect on what I've accomplished. And that has been refreshing. So much of my identity was, for so long, wrapped up in being a successful career woman, that when I got laid off it imploded so much of my sense of worth that I've had to rebuild my image of  myself. I am rebuilding the image I have of myself.

Sure there's a ton of work to do. Sure I have a list a gazillion miles long of the ways I want to better myself. But I am not starting at zero. There's some good gritty stuff under this belt, and remembering that should only serve to fuel my confidence that I can achieve so much more - that I can decide and then I can do.

I am becoming, in more ways today than I have for a very very long time. Because of this awareness and this hunger to learn more and achieve something that I will be proud to look back on at the end of my life. AND - I can stand where I am right now and say, "Hey. You paid your way through college. You left a unique mark on the healthcare industry. You battled through tough family evolutions. You didn't give up on a dream and gave birth to beautiful babies. You can do a frigging headstand in yoga. You are badass. Keep on girl."

Right Here. Right Now.

Where'd I get this idea that stability and security is a thing? That I should freak out because I don't have the next 6 months all planned out with confirmed, guaranteed project income?

Responsibility, I get. Yeah, you can't just wing it and expect your family to have a smooth go of things. I'm not talking about adulting. I'm talking about being present, right here, right now.  At the dinner table. In the grocery line. On the sidewalk chatting with neighbors. Lying in bed next to my spouse. This is life and there is no cliche guarantee of anything except that we get one shot.

As a child I was always leaning into the future, desperate for more freedom and access to privileges. Always in a hurry to grow up. Always seeing a future that was better. Did that become a habit? When is it okay to stop leaning and just stand?

Right now. That's when.

Getting Unstuck

I almost didn't go.

I cancelled out of the class actually, and then 20 minutes before it was scheduled to start I tore around the house trying to get ready fast enough (damn cast) and showed up just as class was starting and had to hunt for an open space.

I almost didn't go, because I was so pissed and sad and uncertain about my injury. But then I decided, "Now or never," and threw myself into the studio. And I'm so glad I did.

Shannon had an amazing class that I could actually do most of, and the message she decided to share was about getting stuck. Getting stuck and taking a moment, before freaking out and maybe getting MORE stuck, to think about what might really be needed. Like maybe a slower speed, or spinning the wheels a bit to gain deeper traction, or a change in direction, or maybe even a little rocking back and forth to gain some forward momentum.

Somehow, having an injury peeled back my coolness, my take-for-grantedness, my closed-up-mindedness, and made me hear the message in it's raw, pulsating form. Yes. I have been stuck. So stuck in the muck and tired of spinning and not sure which direction to go but sitting still scares me to death so I keep whirling around, clawing at mud, desperate to find higher ground...and I needed to hear that it's okay to pause. To consider. That spinning wheels might not be the right thing. Maybe there's a different way forward.

So breathe. Cry. Consider. Let go. See the horizon and give it a bit. Let the dust settle. Maybe the path forward is just clouded by all the ruckus.

Putting in the work

Passive pursuit doesn't cut it. And I'm a bit lazy these days.

I think I'm waiting for something to shine down from the heavens and lay out a perfect pathway that I can simply step onto. I don't have a strong compulsion for anything in particular, beyond yoga. And I envy those who have "made it" and live cush lives in lovely homes with exciting travel agendas.

I'm like the worst kind of envious. Because I don't have any drive to chase down a dream, which is how those folks "made it." They worked their asses off. I sit here and long for ease and luxury. For vibrant purpose. I wait for my dream to emerge.

Maybe I'm not lazy. Maybe I'm just lost. I jumped on a track all those years ago because it "appeared" and it occupied me for two decades...but it didn't light me up and now I'm tired and a little disenchanted.

Okay a lot disenchanted.

How do I find my joy???? I don't want to waste this life! Where do I start digging? Gimme a shovel and I'll get after it. I am ready to put in the work -- I just need to find the pursuit that lights the fire in my belly.

Back in the saddle

Okay. Regroup. I am not a quitter. This is a setback, but it isn't a time out.

I need yoga to maintain clarity. To get out of the swirling in my head and remember how to be in my body and breath. And to help me on this frigging quest.

So I will do yoga, even with this cast, even without the ability to bend my wrist; I will work the poses I can get into and keep my strength up and before long I will be back in action.

No more pity party. There are so many (so many!) ways that I can see this as no big deal. My knuckle will heal. It will work just fine. The empathy I'm building for people with permanent disabilities will stay with me. And the use of my hands, my arms, will mean that much more to me.

Tomorrow is the 40 Days meeting. I am going. And I will release this anger and figure out how to move, and move forward.

Effing Dog

I might actually need an anger management course.

I'm 45 years old, and was never an athlete, so my history of broken bones was ZERO.

But look at me now! Two X-rays on two separate occasions for two equally stupid decisions and my history went from zero to TOO MANY.

I spent the morning full of energy and plans (I was even going to paint!!), and spent the day in doctor's offices with a busted knuckle and wounded pride.

Now I have an effing cast for three weeks, can't tie the drawstring on my pants, and completely threw myself out of the 40 Day challenge.

All because of that 100 pound puppy and my awful sense of timing.