Judging the judgmental

Tags

judgement, setting an intention, yoga

And may all live in equanimity, without too much attachment and too much aversion,
And live believing in the equality of all that lives.

– traditional Buddhist prayer

When I was in my 20s, there were so many things I knew for sure. I had a whole lot of stuff figured out. There were things I liked (wine) and things I didn’t like (kale) and that was that. Those who disagreed were sorely mistaken.

Now in my mid-30s, I am loving the blissful realization that I know nothing. Because although I was certain those things would never change, there have been some surprising developments. There are new things that I like (kale – if it has enough olive oil and garlic) and don’t like (wine – because it keeps me awake all night).

It’s so easy to label things as good or bad. I was always kind of judgmental of people who had ill-behaved dogs. Oh my God, just train your dog I would think, as some wild pooch strained at a leash attached to an embarrassed owner.

And then I adopted my rescue dog. My sweet, darling girl who, for completely unknown – yet surely justifiable – reasons, HATES other dogs. So, when we walk, I am the embarrassed owner holding back a lunging, snarling beast. While multiple group classes, individualized dog training sessions, bribery with treats and strong coercion have helped a little – my perspective on just train your dog has shifted a little.

I thought of all of this recently when I came upon a group of yoga teachers having a discussion about setting an intention at the beginning of yoga class. Should you ask your students to dedicate the class or not?

There were a wide variety of impassioned answers ranging from “Hell no, it’s gimmicky” to “Yes, always, it’s the heart of the practice.“

My favorite answer is the answer that I am finding that I am using more and more in life.

Sometimes.

Sometimes it makes sense. Other times it doesn’t.

Sometimes I drink wine, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes my dog is well behaved, sometimes she is not. Sometimes I eat kale for dinner, sometimes I eat pecan pie.

And here’s the other big thing I’m realizing – I don’t require anyone else to agree with me.

There are fewer and fewer things in life I’m willing to be judgmental about – either in the negative or positive. Because I’ve seen myself, in the process of changing and growing as a person, flip flop. Then suddenly, I’m on the opposing end of something that I once regarded with distain or worshiped to an absurd degree.

And that just gets embarrassing.

Clearly, I’m not saying never take a stand on anything, I just think that equanimity and an amount of respect and understanding for a different way of doing things can be a very compassionate and freeing thing.

So set an intention or don’t, drink wine, eat kale and love that ill-behaved dog.

It’s all beautiful.

————–

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On letting go: growing pains and book publishing

Tags

acceptance, Book publishing, letting go, memoir, PBS, The Buddha, writing, yoga

Life has been exciting and overwhelming lately, as I get ready to have my memoir published in June by Beaufort Books. I’m beyond thrilled and have been busy learning my way around the publishing industry.

And of course, I’m realizing that my rootedness in yoga and mindfulness are essential in getting through all of it.

I’m at the point with my book where I need to submit the final draft of my manuscript to the publishers. Because then, copyeditors and proofreaders can do their work and try to make some logical sense of the random places where I chose to put commas. Then it will go off to the designers and on to the presses and off the presses and into cardboard boxes to go off to bookstores.

It’s entirely exciting.

And incredibly painful.

Because for the last several years, I’ve been watching this book grow from a crazy idea, into the 275 page manuscript that sits before me. I’ve been getting up in the middle of the night with this book. I’ve been startled awake by the persistent, restless whimpering of a thought or a memory or a funnier word choice – I get out of bed and rush to this computer. I sit in the glow and nurse my book to better health.

And that time is almost over. That part of my job is done.

Now, I have to send this book out into the world.

To be adored or criticized or ignored.

Not to be too dramatic or anthropomorphize too much (who am I kidding, I’m a writer/former actor and my car is named Gwen) but I feel like I’m sending my book off to college to live her own life and I’m not sure if I’ve done enough to prepare her. I’m not sure if she’s strong enough to make it in the real world. I’m worried about where she’s going to sit in the cafeteria.

Why is it that humans have such a hard time letting go? We live in a transient world, full of constant change. Births and deaths and seasons and uncontrollable events. And yet, we always assume that some things, if we hang on tight enough, will last forever.

But let’s face it, that desperate clinging never feels good.

There is such beauty in change. In growth. We see that all around us right now. It’s fall and the trees are turning magenta in preparation to let go of their leaves. It’s the essential nature of life.

One of my favorite Buddhist stories is about a monk and a glass of water. He says, “I love this glass. It holds the water admirably. When the sun shines on it, it reflects the light beautifully. When I tap it, it has a lovely ring. Yet for me, this glass is already broken. When the wind knocks it over or my elbow knocks it off the shelf and it falls to the ground and shatters, I say, ‘Of course.’ But when I understand that this glass is already broken, every minute with it is precious.” *

I love this idea. This understanding that everything is impermanent, so why not embrace the present moment, with all its joy and discomfort and transformation — right now? Why not surrender to the realities of this world and just choose be happy in the face of it? It’s all temporary. Even you. So have a blast and love wholeheartedly, before it’s gone.

And then let it go with grace.

I want this book to go out in the world. Because I want you to read it. And because I want to sit up at 4 AM in the glow of my computer screen, and nurture another book into existence.

So, now you know where I’m going be the next few nights, until I have to turn my manuscript into an email attachment and push Send. I’ll be sitting right here, enjoying my little baby…while she’s still just mine.

And then I’ll let it all go, and get ready for whatever comes next.

——–

* This version of the quote is from a wonderful PBS documentary called The Buddha. It’s a great introduction to the concepts of Buddhism and it has “Keep Until I Delete” status on my TiVo. Even though “Keep Until I Delete” reflects an amount of permanence and control that is clearly not very Buddhist…

Changing the construction

Tags

acceptance, change your mind, judgement, life choices, life lessons, meditation, yoga studio

Why doesn’t yoga always feel this peaceful?

Last year, our yoga studio moved to a new location. It’s in a shiny new building with nice bathrooms and freshly painted walls with no fingerprints on them…

…and it’s also got construction.

Lots of construction.

The space above us is being renovated, so there are drills and hammers and all kinds of loud things I can’t even identify. Sometimes I suspect they are doing shot-put with bowling balls for the hell of it. The yoga studio walls shake in savasana. It’s not ideal.

So, I sigh loudly. And I cringe. And I think This studio is my happy place where I come to finally get quiet and de-stress and why isn’t it all calm like doing yoga on a peaceful beach and DEAR GOD WHY???

The other day, one of my yoga teachers – who, not coincidentally, is one of the most enlightened people I know – commented on the construction. She said it made her crazy for a little while, but she just thought about the person who was on the other side of that drill on this Saturday morning. She sent out a little love and gratitude to them for doing their job, so that she didn’t have to work construction and she could be down here, teaching yoga.

Holy shift, Batman.

I was instantly dragged out of my own whiney issues and with such beautiful simplicity, the situation morphed into something positive. It was an opportunity to practice sending some compassion to another being that I don’t even know.

You know what’s really crazy? I don’t even hear the construction anymore. It was like flipping a switch in my mind. And when someone mentioned that the construction was going to be continuing for the next 6 months – I though, well, that’s not too bad.

Because really? In the grand scope of things, what is 6 months?

A mindful, open-hearted comment like that can cause such a shift in perspective. Instead of getting cranky about the construction and therefore ruining my own yoga practice, I can choose a different choice.

Of course, as with everything with yoga, this has been working beyond the mat, too. Instead of rolling my eyes when the lady in front of me at the grocery store wants to fight about the sale price of pretzels – I can change my mind and just be present and feel my feet on the floor. When I have to get blood drawn for my annual check up, I can change my mind and do some deep breathing instead of tensing up my entire body, and almost passing out for lack of oxygen.

Every moment is a choice and you are always allowed to change your mind. It’s shocking to see how often my initial instinct is to make something harder than it needs to be. So much of life is completely out of my control, it makes sense that I should at least choose to make my responses a little more pleasant. It is clear from experience that sending out bitchy, negative energy to a difficult situation is only going to make it worse. For everyone.

The construction is going to be there, whether I am ruining my yoga practice over it or not.

Not seems like a way better choice.

————–

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Hippos on the floor

Tags

Bikram yoga, gratitude, judgement, life choices, mindfulness, spirituality

After a yoga class the other day, a woman went up to our teacher and said,

“I was kind of surprised that you referred to us as hippos. It seemed mean and unlike you.”

Our teacher was horrified. “What? When??”

In floor bow, you said “arms up, legs up, everything up. Only hippos are still on the floor.”

Our teacher smiled and reassured her that she had said “only hip bones are still on the floor. Not hippos.”

And everyone laughed because it was a cute misunderstanding and we went on our way.

But something startling occurred to me. How ready are we to hear something terrible about ourselves? How quick are we to assume the worst and only hear the negative?

I am guilty of this. Give me 100 complements and I’ll only remember the one thing that was not so glowing. That’s the one that will wake me up in the night and leave me cringing and sweating at 2AM.

This is something that I am trying to change. It’s easy to go out of my way to see the best aspects of other people, but when it comes to myself, I tend to be deaf to any praise that might be aimed at me. I’m much more likely to assume someone just called me a hippo.

I love the Three Jewels and it’s part of my daily meditation and gratitude prayers. I especially love this part:

I take refuge in the dharma, the spiritual teachings. I commit myself to the truth as it is.

Because dharma can mean the words of the Buddha and it can also mean the absolutely clear nature of reality. We can make up all kinds of drama to go along with life, we can imagine that he gave me a nasty look or she called me the third largest land mammal on the planet. We can put a negative spin on experiences and get all worked up about them – or we can remove that lens and see the truth as it is.

Acknowledge, accept and then let it go.

It’s a choice.

And when I’m being mindful, I chose that joyful surrender to the truth. It’s way better than being called a hippo.

————————————–

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Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end

Tags

acceptance, Bikram yoga, community, gratitude

My yoga studio is moving to a new location.

It’s just a few blocks from the current place, but many of us students seem to be dealing with this like stereotypical Bikram yogis. The change is freaking us out. We love our same 26 postures and setting up in the same spot in the hot room. Although we are learning flexibility, when it comes to changing up our studio space, we are getting slightly bent out of shape.

We are also excited for a new adventure. An adventure with nicer showers.

But first, we must say goodbye to our old place, and for some of us, that is proving difficult.

The old place is where I wandered in one day, not knowing a thing about Bikram yoga. It’s a place that I came to rely on to fix my aching body and screw-loose brain. It’s where I made wonderful friends and did poses I never thought were possible for my clumsy, 30-something body. It’s where I went on my birthday, on the anniversary of the day I broke my back, on the day that my dog passed away. I went and cried and healed and then finally, I laughed.

It is sweaty, hallowed ground.

So, I’m having a hard time letting go (admits the yogi-in-progress).

Of course the new space will be wonderful. It will become the place where new things happen. There will be new experiences in the hot room and deepening friendships on the benches after class. But at first, I will walk into the studio like a person entering a random party, looking for anything familiar and wondering where the bathroom is. We will be strangers, that place and I.

Our brilliant studio owner, Lizzie, put a vase on the front desk at the current studio. The sign says if there is something – some energy, some feeling – that we want to come with us to the new studio, we should write it on a piece of paper and put it in the vase. This vessel will travel with us, with all the good wishes inside, to the new studio where it will not be opened.

I tried to figure out what to say to this vase. How do I express all of my hopes for this next phase of my practice and my life? How do I capture all that gratitude on a Sticky Note?

I was having a hard time putting it into words (admits the writer-in-progress).

So, I wrote:

Peace, love and acceptance – for myself and everyone else. Thank you for everything.

As I wrote it, a tear slipped from my eye, wrinkling the paper and smudging the ink. My message is so incomplete…but in a way, anything would be. So, I accepted the imperfectness of my words and placed the note in the vase.

I’ll be there for the last class at the current studio. I’ll be there for the first class at the new studio. I’ll figure out where I like to leave my shoes and where the hot spots are. I’ll open my heart and introduce myself to this next part of the path.

Hello.

(*Yes. I totally quoted Semisonic in the title of this post.)

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New post at Elephant Journal: Learning to be still

Tags

acceptance, acting, community, life choices, meditation, mindfulness, Monkey mind, yoga

Hello, yogis!

I hope all of you North American readers had a lovely Labor Day weekend.

I wanted to share my brand new article about meditation, which was just published in Elephant Journal!

Learning to be still

“It’s funny,” my therapist said, “most people get panic attacks about things that will never happen. You get panic attacks about something that happens pretty often.”

I didn’t think it was that funny.

Please click here to read more.

And as always, thank you so much for all your support – it’s never easy talking about anxiety and panic attacks in a public forum. But the open-heartedness I’ve felt here has made it possible for me to share and hopefully, be of use to someone who is dealing with similar challenges.

I hope you enjoy the article.

Peace,

Lisa

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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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Standing bow – everywhere

Standing Bow posture is my Flat Stanley.

I always do standing bow whenever we travel somewhere, but I never really thought about why. We were in Rockport, Massachusetts for a wedding two weeks ago, and as I got into standing bow, I started wondering why I was really doing it.

Sure, it’s more interesting than just standing there for a photo, but the bows never look very impressive. I’m not warmed up, I’m usually wearing jeans and I’ve often just eaten something smothered in cheese.

But, I recently realized that my collection of standing bow photos are really significant to me. It’s not just about doing something fancy while dodging the bizarre stares from by-standers – it’s the acknowledgement that I take yoga everywhere. Wherever I go, I try to maintain the mindfulness and balance that I strive for in the hot room.

Even when I am eating an absurd amount of gelato and haven’t done a backbend for a week – those yogic values of truth, presence and peace are still in the forefront of my life.

Those priorities follow me on a 19-hour plane flight to the other side of the world. They follow me through time zones and long layovers and into safari trucks through the most remote terrain I’ve ever seen. They follow me through too many beachy cocktails in North Carolina and over a freezing cold bridge in Prague just before Christmas.

And then, when I come back to the hot room, I proudly bring those traveling bows with me. I bring all those crooked, not warmed up, imperfect bow poses back to my home studio. I bring them home, along with all the other transformational travel experiences, and I breathe them in deeply, then I let it out slow.

And I’m grateful for every single one of them.

In Rockport, Massachusetts

At the Colosseum in Rome, Italy

In Tulum, Mexico

In Carolina Beach, North Carolina

On safari in South Africa

At Bass Lake, California

At the John Lennon Peace Wall in Prague, Czech republic

(Many thanks to Husband for participating in these yoga photo shoots all over the world. Even more thanks for ignoring all those photos in which I am falling out of standing bow- and which you, dear reader, will only ever see one of.)

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The day of Grace

Tags

acceptance, Grace, gratitude, guru, health, meditation, spirituality

Two years ago today, J and I walked into the SPCA, just to “look.”

We walked out with my guru.

She was a malnourished little mutt with claws so long they wrapped around and dug into the pads of her feet. She didn’t know how to play. The sound of clapping made her cower. She had terrible nightmares that left her snarling and whimpering in her sleep. Life had not been easy for this dog.

Even with that history, no one in my life has taught me more about stillness, joy, acceptance, love and indeed, grace, than Grace.

We almost didn’t adopt her. The information sheet hanging on the door of her cage read “senior.” We couldn’t imagine enduring the loss of her so soon. But one look into her blue eye, and then her brown eye, and we knew that whatever time we had with her was worth it.

We joyfully surrendered to the unknown.

When I stand in the middle of my yoga mat, I often take a moment of stillness to devote my practice to Grace. I want to show my gratitude for all that she has taught me about getting over the stuff that I hold on to from my own past. She is a master class is being present. She is the living example of everything that I try to access by bringing yoga into my life.

Happy birthday, Grace. Thank you for finding us.

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Lost and found: dealing with life’s disappointments

Tags

acceptance, Bikram yoga, disappointment, gratitude

It was just one of those things that happen.

You know the sort of thing. The specifics of it are unimportant because the feeling is universally understood. Feeling disappointed. Feeling rejected. Being a little lost.

It’s not the end of the world. It’s just one of those things that covers you in a cloud of sadness. It makes you feel tired and wonder why it has to be this complicated.

I wore my big sunglasses to yoga. I wondered if I could get away with wearing them in the hot room, so that no one could see that I had been crying in the car on my way to the studio.

I don’t totally understand why yoga works. Why sweating and putting my forehead to my knee reminds me of my own self worth. I don’t know why doing a back bend makes me a kinder person. I don’t know why pranayama breathing re-introduces me to myself. I don’t know why a spine twist straightens out my priorities.

But it does. Every time.

There are thousands of years of documentation of this phenomenon, complicated scriptures and impressive-sounding Sanskrit words like svadhyaya. I’ve read Patanjali…and I guess I sort of get it, in theory. But here’s the great thing, you don’t have to completely understand it for it to work. It works anyway.

It doesn’t mean that the world doesn’t beat me up anymore. It still does. I still get disheartened and whiney. I’m just able to get into the hot room and remember what it’s really all about. I bounce back much faster than I used to.

And then I get down on my knees and press my forehead to the ground and profess my undying gratitude for yoga. Because yoga wakes me up to the joyous realities of my life and encourages me to let go of everything else.

And then I promise to do it again tomorrow. Whatever it is.

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