Holding it Together

I am very grateful to say that I've never been to a memorial service until recently.  I have gone through 32 years of life, having been fairly untouched by death.  I do recognize the good in that, but this post is more about the past two months than the past 32 years.  I've attended two memorial services within the last two months.  Both of the people who passed were close to me, but certainly, there were others at the service with whom they were more close. In both of these memorial services, I felt, at least on some level, that I needed to be strong for others.  I needed to be there to support them.  I needed to "hold it together."

I always wonder where sayings like "holding it together" come from. To show emotion and cry is to "fall apart"? I've been searching and haven't found the origin of this saying.  Please feel free to comment if you happen to know.  What I can tell you is that, as I was sitting in each of these memorial services, trying not to cry, trying to hold it together, I noticed that I was holding my breath and also tightly holding my muscles. And how have I felt since then?  Stuck and full of ick!

As I was searching for the origin of this saying, I found a quote: "...to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that's true strength." I'm not so sure that I agree. I suppose that there are circumstances where I might agree with that saying.  But, I think there's a lot to be said for owning your emotions, showing them, and processing them.

Calm Within the Storm

Recently, in some of the yoga classes that I teach, we've been practicing with nodi sodhana (alternate nostril breath) and meditation following our yoga postures and relaxation. A few of the students have remarked about the calm and stillness that they are able to find. But, for many who are beginning, meditation can be very frustrating. Some think that the "goal" of meditation is the absence of thoughts. I believe that it is more about not getting attached to the thoughts that will inevitably enter your mind. I lead my students through the meditation saying, "when you find that your mind is being drawn away, notice what is causing the distraction, and then let it pass and come back to your breath." Even still, it can be frustrating to find yourself thinking and to have to draw yourself back to the breath time and time again.

I haven't blogged in a few months. I've instead, been living my life in this calm and stillness. A few weeks ago, I sat in my kitchen, doing my normal routine of checking in on the world while eating my breakfast and I heard an unfamiliar sound. Amongst the normal hum of the refrigerator and tick tock of the clock, there was another sound. At first, it startled me. Then, I realized that it was coming from the bouquet of flowers that were immediately in front of me. I could literally hear and see a flower opening. This lily was tucked in among a bunch of other lilies, day lilies and daisies. When we brought this bouquet home from the store, the lilies were completely closed. As they’ve warmed up and been nourished by their plant food, they continued to open. The sound I heard was actually the petals of this last opening lily brushing up against the others, and making room for itself. That is how still, quiet and calm my home is.

Like the students who experience these moments during their meditation and want more of it, I too became attached to the spaciousness and ease that can be found in quiet stillness. And, I too became frustrated at the things that drew me away. Of course, the more attached I became to the quiet, the more upsets seemed to appear. I went through a period of several weeks, where a couple of times each day, well meaning friends and colleagues would give me unsolicited advice. Rather than hearing what they had to say, and then letting it pass without attachment, I allowed them to engage me. In those moments, I was unable to see that I had a choice: to be engaged, to be attached, to ignore, to listen, say thank you, and allow it to pass. All of this attachment and engagement was tiring! And as a result, I slowly disengaged from my communities.

"You have to save yourself from so many good-intentioned people, do-gooders, who are constantly advising you to be this, to be that. Listen to them, thank them. They don´t mean any harm -- but harm is what happens. You just listen to your own heart. That is your only teacher. In the real journey of life, your own intuition is your only teacher." -Osho

I found this quote nearly a month ago, and still it took me until today to realize that I could treat life as a meditation - enjoy the quiet, calm, and stillness and when the upsets do occur as they inevitably will, notice them, allow them to pass, and then draw myself back.

Walking on a Tightrope

Anyone who really knows me, knows that I'm not really the kind of person to be out there in front of people. And yet, lately, I am - non-stop. I spend my day being in front of people and interacting with them, sometimes without even leaving my house or opening my mouth. I write this blog, I have a Facebook page, and a Fan page, I have a website, I write an e-newsletter, I answer emails, and then I stand in front of people and "teach yoga". Or, more appropriately, I lead an experience. All of these things open the opportunity for me to be judged.

I have consciously made these decisions, to put my life out there, and I've asked you all to comment. In many ways, I am honored and grateful that you have chosen to interact with me. And, at the same time, I get really sick of it! I get tired of looking at my own face plastered all over the web, of hearing my own voice, of hearing people's feedback and comments, and of all the head games that I play with myself.

I can be easily pushed off center by people's comments, regardless of whether they are positive or negative. The comments can inflate or deflate my ego. I feel myself swaying from side to side, bouncing back and forth between feelings. At times, I feel gratitude and excitement that someone has noticed me and chosen to comment. At other times, I find myself thinking, "Who the @*#$ asked you for your opinion!?" It can be a challenge to stay balanced, grounded, and rooted in my own authenticity while taking in so much from other people.

I've been saying, "I feel like I'm walking on a tightrope" for several days now, without really thinking much about it. Today, I googled "tightrope." According to Wikipedia, tightrope "acrobats maintain their balance by positioning their center of mass directly over their base of support." They align themselves with their center to maintain their balance. Yep, sounds appropriate!

So, you might ask why the heck I am doing this - putting my life out there for other people's review and comment. A wise woman once told me, "When you give yourself permission to be happy, it allows others the permission to do the same." I think that holds true for anything - replace happy with any other adjective, and see if you still agree. I believe that when we're authentic, it is easier for us to find happiness. So, I'm putting this out there, in hopes that you will all feel permission to be authentic and to find your happiness.

Since this blog is about the connection of the physical and the emotional bodies, I have to ask myself, "how does this, the feeling of walking on a tightrope, show up in my body?" Well, I'm not a very skillful tightrope walker, so its felt like grasping; like an attempt to control...sort of a pulling in, straightening up, tightening of my breath. And so, I'm practicing with expanding my breath, sinking down, and staying connected with my own center.

(Know that, as I prepare to hit the "publish post" button, I am half cringing.) Here goes nothing...

Knots in my neck, tightness in my jaw; the epic battle ground between my heart and my head.

I woke up this morning and realize that I became a goodie two shoes. I felt weighed down by obligation. For some time now, I’m not sure how long, I’ve been making decisions based on what others would see and think of me, based on what I “should” do, based on feeling obligated to people or to doing the “right” thing. Even my personal Facebook page has become a reflection of the person that I’d want my business clients and yoga students to see.

And then I realized that, by acting out of this sense of obligation, I lost a piece of me. Sometimes it can be good to shed aspects that we’ve held onto as being part of us – when these things are no longer serving us (such as stories that we tell ourselves based on fears or previous experiences). In this case, it wasn’t good. I’ve valued living authentically and being a real person (like I can be a yoga instructor, believe in eating fresh, local, organic foods, and yet really enjoy beer, bacon, and french fries) but I wasn’t doing that.

In my body, it showed up as a feeling of emotion bubbling up through my body, and my jaw clenching in an attempt to keep it squelched down. It was an all too familiar feeling. I used to get that very same feeling when I’d walk into a review at the engineering company where I used to work, when what I really wanted to be doing was teaching yoga. I would go into those reviews and feel trapped because I couldn't say what I really meant and I couldn't show who I really was. But, eventually I did – I quit, and started to teach yoga full-time.

There was an epic battle happening between my head (the “I should”s, the obligations, the damn goodie two shoes!) and my heart (the “but I don’t want to do that”, “that isn’t aligning with my values”, “that isn’t bringing me peace, ease and joy”), and my poor neck and jaw (the center of communication, and quite literally the space between my head and heart) were serving as the battle grounds! It was a sensation strong enough that it felt like the equivalent of being trapped in a room without a key to get out. There was no possible way that my body was going to allow me to go through with the “I should”s for another day. Lucky for me, I’ve been through this enough times in the past to have recognized it fairly early on, and was able to send up the white flag.

So, world, are you letting your heart or your head lead your decisions today?

Non-judgmental, Non-directive Dialogue

"The goal of life is to take everything that made you weird as a kid and get people to pay you money for it when you're older."- David Freeman

This quote reminds me of some of the reasons why I love Phoenix Rising Yoga Therapy (PRYT). In PRYT sessions we use non-directive, and non-judgmental dialogue. This has always come really easily to me. It is something that I tend to do naturally in life. And, for most of my life, I've felt that it made me socially awkward. I feel like, often, people say things expecting a response and I just sit there.

Do you notice how often people feel the need to "comfort" others by saying things like "it will get better", "I know this is hard for you", or "don't feel bad"? Well, I've rarely said those thing to anyone other than a very close friend who I really believed that I knew very well. I hardly even ever say, "I'm sorry for your loss" after someone loses a loved one. I figure, who am I to judge what they are, or should be feeling?

Maybe I'm odd, but I feel robbed of my right to have emotions when someone makes comments like this to me. Often it makes whatever emotion I was feeling turn to anger - "Do you? Do you know this is hard for me? How could you possibly know that when you barely know me?"

To me, it feels much more supportive when someone really listens to what I'm saying rather than trying to think of what they are going to say next, or to spit out some canned response that they "are supposed to say". It feels supportive to have someone say, I hear that you are upset, and I'm still here supporting you....I see that you are angry, or depressed, or fearful, and I'm not going to tell you to "look at the bright side", to "focus on the positive", or to "let it go".

In essence, this is what I do in PRYT sessions. Clients share and process their thoughts and emotions, while I genuinely listen and offer them support. I do not judge what they are saying or feeling. I do not tell them how to "fix" their problems. I do not suggest that they should look at things differently, or be different.

So, how does this work in sessions? The process is actually very simple, and from a practitioner standpoint, involves two main phrases: "what's happening now?" and "tell me more." Here is an example...
Me: What's happening now?
Client: I feel (insert emotion, such as frustrated, pissed, scared...)
Me: Tell me more about feeling (above emotion)
Client: I feel (emotion) when ABC happens, because XYZ...

The client gets to really process their thoughts and feelings from beginning to end, rather than having them swept under the carpet or pushed aside. It is really simple, and yet profoundly healing. But, let's face it - it does not come naturally for most people to set aside any desire to "comfort" the person they are talking to...which brings me back to the quote with which I started.

Thanks for reading!

Have you lost your...body?

"Few of us have lost our minds, but most of us have long ago lost our bodies." ~Ken Wilbur

If I were to ask you what you've been thinking about today, or even this week, you could probably give me a list of your work tasks, your worries, to-do lists, whatever you are pondering. But what if I asked you what your body has been doing? What would you say? How would you answer? What is it doing right now?

Charlie Brown gets "body mind"