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…

“Other” yoga

Tags

acceptance, Bikram yoga, mindfulness, vinyassa, yoga

At first it felt a little like cheating.

Are you going to Bikram?” They’d ask.

“Umm. No. Other Yoga.” I’d respond, nervously picking at the edge my yoga mat.

It started as a joke. There was “Our Yoga” (Bikram) and then there was “Other Yoga.” That was the yoga that was in other places – the yoga that other people did.

We weren’t disparaging it. We just weren’t into it. It just wasn’t our thing.

But then things changed.

When the studio where I practice moved locations, they started offering Other Yoga (AKA hot Vinyassa) as well as Bikram. Wanting to be supportive of the new endeavor, I went.

And it’s fabulous.

We do Downdog and Child’s pose and Warriors with different numbers. There is music and flow and something I totally can’t do called a bind.

What I love most about this Other Yoga is it’s essential Otherness. It’s just different. I have now been doing Bikram for almost 5 years. It is my heart. It is my home. But this Other Yoga has it’s place, too. There is room in my heart for both.

I now practice Other Yoga once a week, and I’ve been thrilled to realize that it strengthens my Bikram practice. My arms and shoulders are getting more defined. My balance is improving. And because Vinyassa integrates different postures in a different order, it keeps me on my toes. My mind can’t wander, because it’s not like I know we are going from Half-tortoise to Camel to Rabbit. Other Yoga sharpens that muscle of attention, so that when I am back in the Bikram room, I am more focused.

Best of all, Other Yoga has brought me back to the roots of this tradition – I had to return to my beginner’s mind. As I walked into the room, I didn’t even know which direction my mat should face. I struggled to keep up through a basic sun salutation. And with each new posture, each time I fell over trying to attempt it – I learned something new.

I invigorated my capacity for patience and compassion.

It’s so easy to get dogmatic about a specific branch of yoga. Once you’ve found the thing that changes your world and opens your mind, sometimes we narrow our focus too sharply. In doing that, we might close our hearts to something that might help us in a new way as we move along our path. Something that could bring a different glimpse of enlightenment.

Bikram remains my home and my happy place.

But Other Yoga is a pretty nice fling on the side.

————–

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• What is Bikram yoga?
  
• Hate soup: dealing with the inner mean girl

Meditation Intervention

Tags

acceptance, meditation, mindfulness, Monkey mind, relationships, spirituality

This week, I’m going to do a Meditation Intervention with a friend of mine.

This is not because I’m The World’s Best Meditator or anything. She asked me to share my experience and offer advice, since I’m familiar with this particular stretch of turbulent waters. I’ve been fumbling my way through the often frustrating landscape of meditation for a while now.

My friend is an incredibly strong person, who has recently gone through difficult things that give me heart palpitations even thinking about. She has been doing some meditation, but she’s feeling pretty stuck at the moment.

I’m sure this sounds very familiar to all you meditators. We’ve all been there…bogged down by Monkey Mind and feeling like we are just not good at meditation. We think we are weak-willed or doing it wrong or just inherently incapable. Worst of all, we say the most horrible things to ourselves about what this apparent failure means about our character.

So, I’m going to try to shake some self-compassion into her – because here’s the thing:

Meditation is our natural state, we’ve just forgotten how to linger there.

Stillness, presence, awareness – look at any other animal in the natural world and you’ll see that they are constantly living in that state. We are the only animals that have misplaced that skill. It’s there somewhere, lost amongst the clutter of incoming texts and deadlines and trips to the DMV. We simply need to practice getting that stillness back, but our culture is so far removed from those natural skills that getting it back is really hard.

We spend decades learning to multi-task, use our critical thinking skills and plan ahead…which is all great.

But we almost never practice getting our brain to shut the hell up.

I confess: I am not a great meditator. It’s not like I sit down and it’s all stillness and light in there. I have to work – hard. It takes a lot of focus and energy for me to center myself for even 50% of the time that I am sitting on my meditation cushion.

Have I mentioned that I have had a daily meditation practice for 7 years?

Nevertheless, this is something that I have committed myself to, because of what it does for the rest of my life. It’s like to going to the gym. You don’t go to the gym to be really good at going to the gym. You go to the gym because it makes you healthier for the rest of your life outside of the gym.

Meditation is the same way. I might not spend my 25 minutes in the morning in a perfect state of bliss. I might have to chase down my mind, like I’m chasing after a puppy in a theme park. I might have itches and kinks and a really annoying eyelash in my eye. I just need to surrender to all of that.

Because regardless of how that all goes, the process of sitting down with the intention of being in stillness always causes me to spend the rest of my day in a greater sense of awareness.

Always.

So, I’m not entirely sure what I’ll say to my friend for our Meditation Intervention. There is no magic bullet for this stuff, but maybe I’ll start with this:

Meditation is one of those things you simply can’t fail at. The only failure is in being unkind and giving up on yourself.

——–

In case you are looking for a little motivation or inspiration, these are books that I really like:

Wherever You Go, There You Are – Jon Kabat-Zinn Ph.D:

He’s a molecular biologist, you can’t get much more straight shooting than that. He has an entire center dedicated to the proven medical benefits of meditation (or mindfulness, as he calls it, so that people don’t get intimidated). You can’t go wrong with any of his books.

The Anxiety and Phobia Workbook – Edmund J. Bourne:

This is the first book my therapist started me off with when she recommended meditation for my panic attacks. It has clear directions for anxiety reducing techniques and short writing exercises.

Real Happiness: The Power of Meditation – Sharon Salzberg:

Perfect for beginners. I love this one because it’s a 28 day program that comes with a CD of 15 minute guided meditations.

After the Ecstasy, the Laundry – Jack Kornfield:

Besides that it’s an awesome title, this book has some great thoughts on waking up to our life.

When Things Fall Apart (or really anything) by Pema Chodron:

Particularly wonderful if you are dealing with specific challenges.

10% Happier – Dan Harris:

This is a great book for the cynic or the person who is convinced they can’t meditate. There are some things I don’t love about the book, but it explains complicated concepts very clearly.

Also, anything by Thich Nhat Hanh, Sylvia Boorstein or Eckhart Tolle.

And if you are looking for guided mediations, check out these from the University of Virginia Mindfulness Center.

 

Some of my favorite meditation posts:

• Meditations on Meditating
  
• Meditation information: umm, what are we doing??
  
• Why you should meditate even if you suck at it
• How my iPhone reminds me to remember
• Stillness training
• Relieving stress by sleeping with the troops

 

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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• If you’re terrified, you’re doing it right: authenticity
  
• Why you should meditate even if you suck at it

Travel yoga and humidity humility

Tags

acceptance, Bikram yoga, Bikram yoga Brickell, community, gratitude, hot yoga, Miami, travel yoga, yoga with friends

Bikram Yoga Brickell in Miami

Recently, Husband had a work trip in Florida. He asked me if I wanted to go with him to Fort Myers and it was February and I’m not stupid so I said yes.

While he did work stuff, I took a little road trip to Miami to see a dear friend of mine who now lives there. She is a Bikramite but had not practiced in a while, since she was expecting her cutie-pie son. He was 9-weeks old and Mama needed the hot room. I was honored to be able to go with her to her first class back.

Understandably, she was nervous about returning to yoga. She wondered if anyone would remember her (they did) and if she would spend the whole class crying on the floor (she didn’t). But I was nervous, too. I always get nervous before travel yoga. I was anxious about what the room/teacher/students/temperature would be like.

This is the paragraph where I explain what all the problems were. Like, it was vacation yoga and I had been eating vacation food (fried artichoke and goat cheese po’boy, anyone?) and I’m not used to practicing that late in the evening (we were doing our first sit up around the time that I usually go to bed) and I had cramps and it’s really humid in Florida and …yeah.

I can come up with a lot of reasons why it wasn’t totally my fault that the woman who was still recovering from a c-section was pretty much kicking my ass.

But I realized during the second set of bow pose I had to take my own advice and sit down before I passed out.

Doing yoga in Miami is a little different than in Virginia. It was just a little…showier. There were modified breasts and rippling abs. Even in February there were a lot of tans. So, I had to dig extra deep into my pasty white soul to feel good about collapsing on my mat while everyone else locked out their knees.

I looked in the mirror, attempting to sit stoically. That annoying little part of me that wanted my friend/the teacher/Miss Boob Job to think I was a great yogi: that’s all just ego. That’s not helpful to me or anyone. This is the practice. But still, it flared up and tested me.

So, looked at that reflection of myself – an exhausted, wrung-out yogi on the floor – and tried to be kind. I tried to be present and breathe. Eventually, I got off the floor and back to the postures.

And when class was over I was so proud of my brave friend. As we walked to Publix and bought Coconut waters and cut up watermelon, she said she had been struck by the teacher’s comment that the mirror was “for alignment, not for judgement” and how she was grateful for the freedom to remove self-criticism completely.

I nodded, and it occurred to me for the first time that it’s not just alignment of your hips, it’s about alignment with the truth. Alignment with the moment. Alignment with your authentic self. Alignment with what is possible, and not possible, that day.

And then my friend got teary-eyed and said that even though class was hard, it was the first time in a long while that she had just taken a deep breath.

And she reminded me what this whole thing is about.

Thanks, L.

————————————–

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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

You might also like:

• Meditation information: umm, what are we doing??
• Meditations on Meditating
• Why you should meditate even if you suck at it

Yoga retreat recap: Temazcal sweat lodge

Tags

acceptance, Bikram yoga, gratitude, meditation, Surrender, sweat lodge, Tamascal

Temazcal sweat lodge in Tulum, Mexico

“I’m not going to do the sweat lodge.” I said.

“No? Why not?”

“I don’t like the heat and I won’t be able to leave whenever I want to and I don’t want to be in there with all those sweaty people.”

As the words left my mouth, I knew they sounded familiar. They were all excuses that someone had given me for not attending a Bikram yoga class. I only needed to say “I’m not flexible enough” and I would have covered everything.

Well, now I had to do the sweat lodge.

I was at this yoga retreat in Mexico and this was part of the experience, right? Daily yoga, vegan food and transformative spiritual experiences. I had to do it.

Just after sundown, about 18 of us gathered in a circle and were smudged in sage smoke — something that felt both spiritually significant and like it might act as a helpful anti-mosquito aid.

The Temazcal is an ancient Mayan tradition and the hut is representative of the womb. The purpose of this whole thing was to emerge reborn. We all crammed into the dome and sat, with our legs pulled up close, our bodies pressed up against the person next to us. There was no room to stand or move around. You just had to be there and get comfortable with the uncomfortable.

Then, the rocks came in. They had been sitting in the blazing fire-pit outside and were glowing red. We invited them in by saying “Welcome, Grandmother” in Spanish as they were shoveled into a pit in the middle of the Temazcal. Then, water infused with herbs was pored over the rocks. The steam rose and filled the Temazcal like a sauna.

It was hot. Really hot. Hotter than a Bikram Yoga hot room. At this point you kind of wanted to yell at the rocks – “get the hell out, Grandma” – but that would have been disrespectful.

Then the chanting began. And the singing. And I think some people had instruments but I couldn’t really see them and didn’t have enough wits about me to even shake a tambourine. The light-headedness took over, but at least the people on either side of me were propping me up so I couldn’t fall face-first into the rocks.

The total Temazcal lasted about two hours but it was separated into four parts or “doors.” After each door we had the chance to leave if we wanted to; I left after the second door, sat out the third door in the cool(er) night air, where I laid in savasana and some sort of tamascal assistant offered me water and played drums over me. After my break, I decided I wanted more of this experience, what ever it was. I went back in for the last door.

We sang about showing appreciation for ancestors and all that had come before us. We sang about acceptance of ourselves and letting go of anything from the past that didn’t serve us. We sang about our gratitude for the whole world and something about intergalactic eagles that I really didn’t understand but I was totally digging.

I did feel that when I crawled out, sweaty and dirty and delirious, I was reborn. The whole experience for me was about surrender. It was so similar to my early experiences with Bikram yoga. I was so apprehensive about the whole thing, but the process gave me the chance to let go – of my fear, my anxiety, my baggage. We all went and jumped in the ocean to complete the ritual and celebrate in the waves.

It absolutely felt cleansing and I really do feel changed by the experience, even weeks later. There was a shift. Something happened, but I can’t quite tell you how or why.

But, I definitely left something behind in that hot, smokey hut – something I just didn’t need anymore. It mixed with my sweat and my grateful tears and it melted into the sand and disappeared forever.

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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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