I love gratitude and I love lists

Tags

Grace, gratitude, gratitude journal, writing

I have several bad habits. Chewing on ice is one of them. But I have another bad habit that is even more dangerous than the possibility of a cracked molar.

I have a habit of thinking that the moment I say “Wow – things are good!” that a vengeful god with a head shaped like a yin-yang symbol is going to appear and hand-deliver pancreatic cancer to everyone I love. I don’t know why I think this, but I’m perpetually waiting for the other shoe to drop. (Brene Brown talks a lot about this – and apparently I’m not alone with this horrible habit.)

But here’s the thing I’m trying to realize. Bad things might happen. Or they might not. Regardless, I don’t think it makes sense to go through life ignoring the good things in a feeble attempt to keep the bad things at bay. I’m just happier when I am grateful and when I recognize all the joyful things in my life. So, come what may – and I’ll say thank you for it.

So, that’s why it’s important for me to keep a gratitude journal. With everything that’s been going on, it’s easy to get caught up, overwhelmed and forget about the little things that are so integral to my happiness.

I’ve been writing a lot recently. I spend most of my life in my home office, typing away, with Grace at my feet. (As I write this, I have not left my house in FOUR days, with the exception of walking the dog.)

Lest this sound like complaining, let me assure you that I am totally thrilled about this situation. Lots of awesome writing-related things are going on and it’s downright dreamy.

However, at the end of the day, the last thing I want to do is more writing. I’m drained.

But you know what I’m never too tired for? Lists. I love lists.

Lists make everything so clean and clear and uncomplicated. And if there is any way for that list to be numbered??? Fantastic. It rights my world and makes me feel like I can handle anything – as long as it’s in list form.

Since writing a journal seems like more energy than I can muster before bed, so I’ve been keeping a gratitude LIST! Perfect. The basic outline looks like this:

8/27/13 – Today I am grateful for: 

1.

2.

3.

4. 

5. 

Isn’t that easy?

So, I’d like to offer up this idea to anyone who might be feeling a little stuck or ungrounded. It settles my heart right before going to sleep when I write out 5 things that I’m grateful for in that moment. It’s often the health of my family. Sometimes it’s that the Chinese place delivers. It tends to be mixture of the profound and the practical.

But it always makes me feel good to know that I am ending my day with one solid thought – a heartfelt thank you for this life.

And I’m slowly learning that I don’t have to get nervous and look over my shoulder after I say it.

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Spiritually stunted

Tags

community, good friends, support

We are healed from suffering only by experiencing it to the full.

~Marcel Proust

When I was a kid, I used to get terrible growing pains. They would shoot down my legs and settle themselves in all their aching glory right behind my kneecaps. I would hobble around in pain.

Since I only made it to a not-so-towering 5’3, I’m not sure why the pains were so bad. But I recognize that I still get them, just in a slightly different form.

I get overwhelmed by the amount of tragedy in our world. I try to see the best in people and remain positive about the state of our society, but that doesn’t come easy. I try to think that the good guys will win and that love conquers all and everything happens for a reason – but sometimes all I can do is curl up with a heating pad and pout. Just like I did when I was 13 years old.

I simply have to wait these moments out. I wait for the aching to subside, until I can get a handle on things and get off the couch. I’d like to think that this is indicating some major moment of spiritual growth, something that will make me grow tall enough to see over the suffering to the greater purpose – but I just don’t know.

I am grateful that I have a network of other sensitive souls, people who know those pains well and who understand the aching for humanity. They can offer their own remedies and perspectives. Sometimes, a hug is all that is required.

Because there is no explanation good enough. I try to be all spiritually enlightened and say something that sounds like something the Buddha would say but some days I remain spiritually petite and convinced I’ll never grow past my 5’3.

Somedays, the world is just dumb.

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Powerless

Tags

acceptance, gratitude, Surrender

Along with many other people, we lost power in a storm just before the 4th of July. We fared pretty well; we were only without it for 30 hours.

The worst part was that we lost all our food in the fridge and freezer. I hate wasting food so tossing everything was a little bit of torture, but there was nothing else to be done. The stench upon opening the fridge made that abundantly clear.

Being without power for an extended period is a very interesting thing. Pretty much everything I thought I relied on, for information or entertainment, required electricity.

Even something as fundamental as reading has now become power-driven; I kept worrying that my Kindle would run out of juice. Thankfully, I have all those old-timey paper books on my shelves, too.

It was hot in the house but Bikram yoga prepped us pretty well for that. We were perfectly set up to do the series in our living room.

What I noticed most was the quiet. Without music or television, the hum of the refrigerator or various electronics, the hiss of the A/C, or the subtle-yet-enticing bing of a new email – it was really damn quiet around here.

There was no Facebook or home renovation shows to dull my mind. The day was slow and still and peaceful. I believe I felt every moment of the day.

In the evening, we entertained ourselves by playing games by candlelight. It was lovely. We went to bed early. Without bright LED clocks everywhere, insisting on telling us what time it is, we let natural rhythm take over and did things when they seemed right.

While I would never wish for a storm like that again and my heart goes out to everyone who had much more debilitating circumstances than us – there was something to be gleaned from it. It was an incredible lesson in acceptance of uncertainty. We didn’t ever know if we were going to be without power for another hour or another week. It reminded me of the all things we take for granted in the developed world. I was slightly ashamed of my assumption that everything should work simply because I flipped a switch.

I had absolutely no control over it and I could choose whether to freak out or surrender. Sure, I freaked out some, but eventually, the relief and joy that came from the surrender was too good to pass up.

When the cool air resumed and all our clocks started blinking 12:00, I admit to being overjoyed with gratitude. But I’m hoping that the liberation of unplugging a bit will continue, just on more of a voluntary basis….

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My Bikram buddy

Tags

Bikram yoga, gratitude, Love, relationships

Husband and I will be celebrating our seventh wedding anniversary this weekend and it’s got me feeling all mushy.

We’ve been together for 11 years but only in the last 3 years have we embarked on this amazing spiritual and physical journey called yoga. It’s done wonderful and unexpected things for our relationship.

I think we are more patient with each other now. More present. More forgiving and understanding. We are better friends to each other. We let things go and have more fun.

We had it good before, but this practice has really built on that foundation.

I’d love to be able to explain exactly why our Bikram practice has changed our relationship, but it’s fairly intangible. Let’s just chalk it up to yet another crazy/amazing yoga side effect.

I want it noted for the record; I started doing Bikram yoga first. I think I attended two classes before he shocked me by saying he’d like to try it. From Day 1, his Awkward Pose has been way better than mine – which is totally annoying – but otherwise it’s super great to have a Bikram Buddy.

Here are some reasons why:

• We have shared goals for the future… like full camel.
• We can make dialogue-based jokes about “hands palms” or “Japanese Ham Sandwich” and we think we are hilarious.
• I can suggest spending the day in a posture clinic/doing advanced/watching regional yoga championships AFTER a 90 minute class, without having my spouse hand me a pamphlet about how to get out of a cult.
• We use matching yoga towels.
• It’s awesome to hear “Nice toe stands, Joneses.”
• We can giggle about the taste of coconut water.
• Sometimes I need someone to hold my hand in final savasana.
• It’s fun to try to knock his arms down in Full Locust, which brings some much needed levity to the spine strengthening series.
• When he stands at the front door holding a mat and towel and says, “Really? You are not coming to class?” it is very persuasive.
• I like to get/give a supportive look between standing series and the floor series, as I’m collapsing to the ground.
• He reminds me that it’s two hours before class so I should eat something.
• We can split a half bottle of wine at dinner and get totally wasted.
• We do vacation yoga.
• We are both bendy. That’s just fun.

There are lots of other non-yoga things that rock about him…but listing all those would just get obnoxious.

Thanks for the past 11 years, Jem. Let’s do more of that.

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Home sweet home

From the hallway of the Bikram studio in Palm Desert, CA

I’m back from California!

And, I have been flattened by jet lag. I never used to get it that badly, but this trip has flipped my brain upside down.

We had a lovely time, I attended two yoga classes (one Bikram, one “Hatha”) and had the best massage of my life. There was lots of chilling poolside with wonderful people and truckloads of foods I don’t normally eat. Top that off with a couple drinks at a gay dance club/tiki bar and you have a hell of a 60th birthday celebration for my mother-in-law. (Yeah, she’s cool like that.)

Since I am still too dizzy to be interesting or deep, I’ll just use this post to pop in and say hello.

I will also take this moment to let you know about something I am kind of hesitant to talk about, lest it seem like bragging; but I was recently profiled by Charlottesville Woman magazine. I’m honored that I was chosen for the profile and I thought I’d share it with you.

In the article, I talk about this blog, what it means to me and my writing processes. I wanted to share it because I’m proud of this little community we have created, where we can discuss the real, important things of life. It’s so easy to get bogged down in the minutia and forget the real reasons we are all here. This place helps me remember my priorities.

Alright. Now I am off to do some inversions so that I can try to find the right side up.

Namaste, my friends!

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Have yoga mat, will travel

Tags

Bikram yoga, family, health, Travel

I will soon be heading out to the California desert to visit family. I will be spending the majority of my time holding a fruity drink with an umbrella in it and looking at this:

I’m hoping to visit a Bikram yoga studio while I’m out there. However, it’s going to be about 114 degrees, so if I can’t get to an official class – it’ll be outdoor practicing for me!!

I love doing travel yoga. I’m kind of socially inept; I always feel wildly uncomfortable in unfamiliar situations. So, going to a studio in a different place with a bunch of strangers, and yet doing my exact same beloved Bikram series — it does my lizard brain good.

Travel yoga has little to do with fitness; let’s face it, I’m going to be eating “vacation food” which includes more than my share of my mother-in-law’s birthday cake. This is not going to be a particularly health-conscious time.

For me, travel yoga is about checking out other studios and having the experience. Every studio has their little quirks and customs, along with the by-the-book stuff, and that is interesting to me.

When I did a Bikram class in foreign language (Italian, while we were in Rome) I found such great comfort in hearing the familiar cadence of the dialogue. Instructors seem to have the same lilt, regardless of their mother tongue. But I was most amused by the fact that the Italians tend to moan and talk back to the instructors much more than Americans. So very Italian….

Have you done travel yoga? What similarities and differences have you found?

I’ll be out for a bit while we are on vacation, but I’ll be back soon!
Namaste, y’all!

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Tears look like sweat: yoga for grief

Tags

death, dogs, grief, yoga, yoga challenge

Two years ago, I did my first 30 day Bikram yoga challenge.

I started it the day my dog died.

My sweet Cleo

Cleo passed away unexpectedly during surgery and I was absolutely grief-stricken; she was my baby. After we spent hours sobbing on the couch, Husband had an idea —  “Let’s go to yoga.”

I thought he was crazy and in denial but I went because I was kind of a zombie. I would have followed him anywhere.

Besides, I figured that in the Bikram hot room tears looked like sweat, anyway.

When that class was over, I signed up to do a 30 day challenge.

I think it sounded nuts to those who were trying to care for me. After a loss you should take on as few voluntary challenges as possible, right? And here I was committing to go to yoga every day for the next month.

I couldn’t really explain it, I just knew I needed yoga. My studio is an incredibly supportive, safe space for me and even when I wanted stay home and cry (which was often) I walked into the room and was embraced in the way that my soul needed.

Every day for 30 days, I dedicated my practice to Cleo. I looked at myself in the mirror and as I put my knuckles to my chin for Pranayama, I was overcome by Cleo’s boundless love, bravery, loyalty and wisdom. I was so blessed by the fact that she was my dog and I was her person. I devoted every class to that feeling of gratitude.

Sometimes I cried – camel pose was often a rough one – but mostly I moved through the grief like I moved through the postures; slowly, mindfully and just one moment at a time.

Physically, I felt my body release the tension of grieving. I dealt with my emotional pain in the way that yoga and meditation had taught me; I grounded in the present moment, as uncomfortable as it was, and was reminded that there is no running away from my reality. I just dove in and knew I could take it.

Bikram yoga saved me during that difficult time. It opened up the space for me to deal with my loss. It supported me and made me stronger.

Last week as I arrived at my yoga studio, an instructor was hugging a student whose mother had just passed away.

All I could think was – I’m so glad she is here.

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Slowing to beach time

Tags

Beach, family

Last week, I went to visit my grandma in North Carolina. It’s always wonderful to go to the beach; everything just seems to slow to a pace that feels more natural. Sure, some might call it lazy, but lazy seems to work for me.

And it’s not just me. I watched our neighbors mindfully feed a flock of gulls for about half an hour. They ripped small pieces of bread and fed them by hand as they swooped from the sky; that was their big plan for the afternoon. I took a cue from that and adopted the leisurely beach vibe.

I drank green tea from giant, flowery mugs while being embarrassed by grade school photos of myself. I wonder why I don’t wear mustard turtlenecks anymore?

I watched Gracie breathe in the sea air.

I loved my daily moving meditation.

I ate ugly delicious tomatoes from the veggie wagon down the street.

I watched the wind blow the sea grass on the dunes.

It was a lovely few days, full of stories of my grandma’s days as a newspaper woman and her around-the-world travels with my grandfather. I ditched the To Do List and curled up with my book…which, as often as not, morphed into a nap.

It’s nothing new to talk about peace, simplicity and slowness at the beach. But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.

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Just now now: sunset stillness

Tags

gratitude, juicing, meditation, spirituality

Just now now: a photo representing the past week; a visual gratitude journal, of sorts.

Last night, I came home from yoga to see this sunset over the Blue Ridge Mountains. I watched from my front porch and listened to the ducks laughing on the pond.

For a moment, my mind drifted away to getting worked up about what that guy said and what am I going to do about that situation.

But really — as I watched this gorgeous wondrous sky with my healthy, happy little family — who am I kidding?

This is awesome. And I am grateful.

It set off this chain of conscious choices based in gratitude and presence. Made a juice for dinner instead of foraging for a combo of pretzels and dark chocolate from the cupboard. I worked on my quilt and listened to music instead of getting sucked into another Bravo marathon. I meditated instead of messing around on Twitter.

If nature can do this phenomenal thing, the least I can do is not waste the evening.

Hope your weekend is awe-inspiring, too.

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The good kind of selfish

Tags

childfree, life choices, relationships

“Selfish” is a terrible, awful, no good word that gets bandied about our society quite frequently. I find it particularly uncomfortable because I’ve had it aimed at me.

Usually, the selfish dagger originates from the fact that I am childfree; Husband and I have decided that the two of us will be the only humans in our family. Because of this, people assume that if I don’t devote my life to a child, I must devote my life to bon-bons, daytime television and my own hedonistic pleasure-seeking. It’s a shockingly common and enduring stereotype that makes my blood boil — along with the idea that childfree women are cold, uncaring, will never know real love and are not actual women…but that’s for another post.

People also tend to think those on a spiritual path are oblivious navel-gazers.

Oh yeah, and I’m an only child.

So, I am triple screwed when it comes to that selfishness label.

But, I am not selfish. I would list all the things I do that are selfless, but I don’t want to get all defensive and feel like I have to justify and prove myself. Not on my own blog.

Clearly, I have internalized this whole selfish thing. For example, I am a quilter. I am a tattooed, vegetarian yogi quilter. Unusual, I know, but I love quilting. I love quilts. I have gone to quilt shows just to admire them. I think they are stunning works of art and they bring me joy. I’ve been quilting for about six years but I recently realized something – I don’t have a quilt. Every pre-schooler within a 100 mile radius has a handmade quilt from me. I made a quilt for our guest room. The dog has a quilt. But I don’t have a quilt to call my own.

It suddenly occurred to me that this is odd.

So, I am making myself a quilt.

And I feel terrible about it.

Every time I sit down to work on this quilt, I wonder, should I really be spending time on this? It’s so selfish. Am I really sewing this quilt for myself just because it makes me happy?

Yes. I am sewing this quilt for myself because it makes me happy.

Aren’t happy people better for the world?

I am not hurting or neglecting anyone by making myself a quilt. Yet, when ever I make a decision like this, choosing something that is in my own best interest and makes me happy or improves my life in some way, I hear this hiss of selfish in my ear.

“In Mandarin Chinese, they have two words for selfish. One means doing that which is beneficial to you and the other means hoarding, greedy, and cruel. We, in English have pushed those two words together.”

-Elizabeth Gilbert

There is a huge difference between those two definitions. We should encourage people who do what is right for them, what makes them feel fulfilled and able to face the challenges of being human. Not everyone in the world has the exact same opportunities and desires, and that is why you should take advantage of yours. Have babies or don’t. Work outside the home or inside. Quilt or sky dive or go to clown college. If your passions are not hoarding, greedy or cruel – have at it.

Be the good kind of selfish and share that joy.

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