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February 24th, 2012 Today I’m feeling pretty on top of it – I had my second five day yoga week of 2012. All the other weeks were four day weeks, with the break coming on Wednesdays due to commitments both in the morning and evening. The four day weeks were good – but the real benefits are found in five consecutive days. My body gets to start off rested and a bit stiff on Monday morning. Then I have an extremely tough Tuesday, and instead of missing Wednesday, I get to come back and have an easy day, feeling things are all back in line where they should be. Because I had the Wednesday, now I really get to work on Thursday, experiencing the yoga tackle new muscles and reach deeper into the organs of my body. Thursday’s class is tough. Yesterday I almost didn’t survive that one. The thinking of choice right about now would be to consider taking Friday off. After all, I was there four days in a row, but taking Friday off would be like missing the ending of a movie I just spent 90 minutes watching. Friday is the day that pulls it all together. It’s neither easy, nor is it hard. It’s just “happy”. Each body part feels it’s at it’s optimal performance level. I leave class with an exorbitant amount of energy to take with me into my weekend. I feel complete. The yoga has done it’s job.
Maybe the five day week is not what I wanted – I sure could’ve used this morning to do other things that were on my mind. I really really felt the urgency to get started on laying out and rewriting my book, but I slowed myself, realizing that whenever I feel that “urgency”, that’s my cue to do the opposite. Go to yoga and slow things down. When I came home I so wanted to start cutting up pieces of paper and arranging pages all over the counter, but I didn’t finish the reading I had started yesterday teaching me how to do this. Again, that “urgency”. Again, my clue to slow it down. I ate my lunch and settled in with the book – with one eye on those scissors.
I have learned to watch and be aware of this “urgency” over the course of this past year. “Urgency” points out what I want, which in most cases, is not what I need. Going to yoga gave me the completeness and energy I needed. Reading the book gave me the quiet consciousness to realize I still don’t know what I’m doing and laying out the pages really needs to be left until next week when I can take my time – time is what I need.
And so, as another day goes by, once again I revisit “what I want just may not be what I need” and urgency creates an awareness of that, and …I have written.
February 23rd, 2012 Most people who know me know that I am well-acquainted with daytime TV, from the morning news, right on through the afternoon talk shows. They yammer away in the background as I go about my business of blogging, editing my book, researching my book, or practicing my daily pencil drawing exercises. Today I was irritated by the endless parade of artists promoting their films, books, and music – it just seemed excessive for some reason today, more than most. Then, ping, an email dropped into my phone alerting me to a post by a fellow blogger whose writing, wit, and wisdom I love. I stopped what I was doing and read her post. She wrote about the impact a favorite movie character had on motivating her to forge out and take a risk. (I will let her tell her own story – the link to her blog appears below.)
After reading her post I was somewhat saddened about the current state of the arts in our schools. The school I taught at in New York State is in severe financial trouble, as are most in our country today. They are threatened with laying off 32 teachers and cutting all music, art, and technology programs. My friend was sincerely impacted by the work of an artist in film. Who is going influence our children if the arts are cut from our schools? They will receive their influence from tv and Internet, but how are they going to achieve their dreams and realize their potential if they can't touch that saxophone in third grade? What if they never get to staple together that book they wrote in kindergarten, or do that amazing charcoal mural in high school?
Artists truly impact our lives. We want to be them. We want to be the characters they invent and portray. They in turn, sooth and heal us with their stories and music. They show us heroes in movies do exist in our worlds if we just stop and look around. They write books about the real and human condition, assuring us we are not alone. They motivate us to be more than we ever thought we could be. In short, all those involved in books, movies, and music play a huge part in helping us find our way in our worlds.
Pause with me and think about how a current movie, book, or song is currently influencing you. Today I'm reading The Children's Picture Book by Ellen Roberts. The children's books she sites are all books I've used for years in my kindergarten classroom by authors and illustrators I admire. I remember how I used their stories and pictures to teach children important concepts and life lessons. They have inspired me to want to talk to children through the printed word. I want to write a book that teachers can use to speak to the hearts of children.
How were you influenced by an artist's work today? Is there anything you can do to help keep the arts in your local schools? I thank my friend for bringing up an important point for me to ponder as the Ellen show winds down.
And so, as another day goes by, I apologize to Jennifer Aniston for being annoyed by her getting her Hollywood star, as I do appreciate her work on the big screen, and …I have written.
~ Link to my friend's blog…enjoy!
http://www.freesialane.com/2012/02/23/silence-of-the-lambs-and-me/
February 22nd, 2012 ….mid-life, that is. Your grade school years seem to last forever. Every birthday between five and ten years of age seems to take 730 days to reach. The years between ten and sixteen move a bit faster toward that ever so coveted driver’s license. Seventeen through twenty five starts to flash by, hitting a few speed bumps as you move through the college and job establishment years. Pretty soon you’re twenty five and start to feel “settled”. Twenty five through thirty are the invincible years. You’ve arrived and can do anything. Next thing you know you’re thirty and it suddenly gets serious. These are the years filled with career moves, mortgages, marriage, and children. You start spinning your wheels so fast just to keep up with it all and before you know it, you find yourself in your mid-forties, coming up for air. This is the point where you stop and actually realize your life is going to change in the near future and maybe now you should take some time to prepare for that and figure out just what that means. Yesterday you were twenty-five and life was stretched out before you forever. The words retirement planning or long term care insurance were foreign concepts. Today you’re in your late forties and realize attention needs to be paid to the latter half of your life, just as when you were eighteen and were deciding “what you wanted to be when you grew up”.
Don’t panic. A writer friend of mine wrote the perfect book – Midlife Crisis Survival Guide. It just came out yesterday on Kindle ebooks and the best part? For a limited time, it’s a free download. Then it will be available for .99. Either way it’s a real bargain. In it Chapman Deering is very clear, concise, and helpful. I, myself, love the last chapter where she helps us “boomers” realize we are not alone. Deering shows us that aging with a little time and attention to tweak ourselves is the key to aging gracefully – something at around age 48 I made up my mind I was going to do. Relax, ease into it, take care of what needs to be taken care of, don’t get crazy and just maybe you’ll see you get to decide all over again “what you want to be when you grow up”.
And so, as another day goes by, I loved this handy little pocket guide to mid-life, and …I have written.
February 21st, 2012 Today one of my favorite yoga teachers suddenly rose from the black lagoon she’d been hiding in. When she first started teaching at our studio over a year ago, fresh from training, I found her difficult. Difficult at first because she was unsure of her dialogue. She’d forget it half way through the pose and start over leaving us hanging really long in the poses. With time and a lot patience on the part of us students, she mastered the dialogue and became a great teacher. One other problem people had with her was that she believed in a full 105-110 degree room with little window and door opening. Over the course of the year she battled with the people over this. Not openly, of course, but just through people sitting out, leaving, making excessive noises, etc., communicating “Open a window or I’ll kill you” through their behavior. She believes that part of the process is to learn to deal with heat and humidity and if you push yourself to do this in the studio, it will condition you to deal with extreme difficulty in life. I, along with my yogi buddies, agree with the concept. We just don’t agree with the extreme she pushed the heat on us. Anyway, over time she became more tolerant that we do not want to be teachers and experience the extreme conditions she experienced in teacher training. She became very generous with opening the windows and door, in fact, at times, I felt she was too generous and the sweat in my mat was actually cold when I laid on it. The thing was, that during this lenient period of hers, I grew to trust her that I would not be exposed to extreme conditions. I relaxed when she was on the schedule, and enjoyed her classes. (Even though I must admit, many classes I thought that it was too cool in the room.)
Then, today, she arose from the black lagoon. The heat and humidity were back to the same level I remember last year. One person even left. We didn’t get a door or a window until almost the end of class. I pushed through. I didn’t even sit out a pose. I had my breathing under control, but my muscles were tired and I could just fall asleep during each savasana. The teacher knew we struggling. She told us she’d been too easy on us and this is the way it is supposed to be. She said to trust her. She’ll give us what we need, when we need it.
Lying there in savasana I thought about the reason for a tougher class and had for some time felt the need for one. I thought about the lives of some close friends. These people overcame adversity in their lives that I’ve often said I could never have. Then I thought about why. It’s because their lives were one horrifically hard event after another, and they never stayed down or defeated, that they are now some of the strongest people I know. I didn’t have a hard life to teach me how to push through extreme circumstances when I hit them. In fact, I had a near perfect life. The few financial, relationship, and child problems I’ve had to face over the years were no where near hard enough to prepare me for the extreme. In turn, I protected my daughters, too, from being exposed to extreme circumstances.
Something had to enter my life to do this preparation. Something had to be presented to show me exactly what I’m made of. I do thank God that He gave it to me in the form of yoga practice, and not a horrific life experience. Nevertheless I had to have something cross my path to push me to my limits and let me examine my reaction to it.
I respect this teacher. She doesn’t back down even if people leave or complain. She knows part of the process is learning to deal with adversity. Thinking back, it was she, last year that presented those classes where I was pushed to my limit and beyond, that showed me I had what I needed to get through the most difficult year of my life. I found out each day with her just what I was made of. I learned hard lessons about trust and relinquishing control. This all came rushing back to me today as I got that breathing under control and refused to give up and sit down. A class like today’s last year, for me, was a class I’d sit out a lot and in my mind be very mad at her for not opening that window. Today watching others complain or leave, I was amazed at my ability to push through calmly and trust her to “have it”.
Both she and I have come a long way in a year. I haven’t had a class like this in a long time. I’m now reminded just what I am made of and just in time, on this fat Tuesday, before I enact my Lenten resolutions tomorrow. My resolutions might revolve around tangible things, but they are only a symbol of a very self-disciplined road I’m going to walk internally. I have something in my life very hard to do and once again, yoga is going to see me through it. I’m going to need tremendous faith, perseverance, patience and stillness once again. I need the spiritual to be connected to the concrete so I stay motivated and on track for the next few months. Yoga and Lenten resolutions will keep me connected to my God and myself and not let me forget what I must do on a daily basis.
And so, as another day goes by, 18 months later yoga is still my lifeline, and …I have written.
Some of my best lessons are learned right here…..
February 20th, 2012 How I love when my yoga talks to me. Everyday during the first set of back bend, when I “fall back, waaay back” I get that pixeling dizziness. During the second back bend, no problem. Obviously it has something due with the amount of oxygen I don’t get in that first set. The two sets are exactly the same. I couldn’t figure this out for the life of me. Today I decided to move the oxygen around a little in the first set. Instead of taking that big inhale that the teacher suggests, I decided to just keep breathing evenly and normally throughout the whole pose. I also made up my mind to go at it evenly and steadily in my movement – maybe just not throw myself backward into it just because I know I can do it? Sure enough, I eased myself gently backward and kept the breath steady and even throughout the whole bend. I found myself staring at the back wall with no hint of dizziness at all.
Today my yoga started right off telling me the the way I’m going to approach my path for the Lenten season. A lot like Jesus did. I’m going into a very special forty day period. I’m going to breath evenly. Approach it mindfully. Relax into it. I’m currently not a practicing Catholic, but having been brought up in the faith, the Lenten season was something that always brought a bit of reason to change things up and end on a beautiful Easter Sunday, feeling very accomplished. It’s definite beginning and end also lends a good structure to making positive life changes, right smack in the middle of spring, the season of new growth. I’ve always liked the ambiance of it.
My yoga still wasn’t done talking. The next pose was awkward pose. Stand up on your toes, arms extended straight out perpendicular to the floor. Now sit down in the chair. Knees up. Balance on your toes. Today when I was waiting for this pose to end (it’s a tough one to maintain too long) I found myself thinking, just hold still, keep breathing and pretty soon she’s going to say, “Change!”
Change. The key word. At the end of my forty days I hope to come out the other side of Lent changed. I’m shooting for a level of patience and perseverance I’d never before attained. And, just as the II Timothy verse suggested, develop a spirit of self-discipline. I got a comment on that post that said something about self-discipline that stuck in my head. The person wrote:
“Nevertheless the problems which self-discipline can solve are important ones, and while there may be other ways to solve these problems, self-discipline absolutely shreds them.”
Shreds them. I love that term. Self-discipline will be my drug of choice to see me through this Lenten season. Now to list the things I’m going to do consistently for the next forty days:
1. Give up all alcohol
2. Afternoon cardio class at least three days a week
3. Take a course in pencil drawing and be diligent and disciplined in learning something new from scratch.
That ought to do it. And I’m going to shred them. (I think I have a new favorite word)
And so, as another day goes by, one more time: God does not give us a spirit of fear and timidity, but one of power, love, and self-discipline, and…I have written.
February 19th, 2012 This morning, waking up, I was just pulling myself out that dream state, visions of dark chocolate were just leaving my mind, (I don’t have a clue why I was dreaming about dark chocolate) and from what seemed like far away, someone was yelling “You have no idea what strength you have until you give yourself a chance!” Whaaa? Then I realized I forgot to set the sleep timer and it was Jillian Michaels yelling from an infomercial.
As I grabbed for the remote to switch the channel to the news, her words kept ringing in my mind. I sat up and looked at the sun rising out over the ocean and suddenly the whole world looked clearer, more alive. Even the chimney top visible on my roof gave me boost. Normally, this wouldn’t have been such an epiphany if yesterday hadn’t been a turning point in my journey. God is always right there, just when I need Him most, speaking through Jillian Michaels and my chimney top.
Yesterday a close friend forgave me for something I had done months ago. Our relationship is still very broken and my never be able to be fixed, but the power of giving and receiving forgiveness is immense. Yesterday I spoke of God not giving us the spirit of fear and timidity, but one of power, love, and self-discipline. I admit I had trouble processing the power part. To me, power always represented control over something or someone. Today, waking up to “You have no idea the strength you have until you give yourself a chance” brought it home for me. Yesterday I spent in a saddened state, thinking I’d have to begin grieving the end of this relationship. Today, even though the problems in it aren’t fixed and may never be, the power in the form of forgiveness allowed me to see things I couldn’t see yesterday. If I give myself a chance to put aside the sadness and focus on the new found freedom to move forward, I now realize the strength I posses, even when things didn’t go in the direction I hoped they would. The power of forgiveness washed away pain and guilt, making even my chimney top glisten in the morning sun like never before. As the day wore on, life changed for the better. On my beach walk I stayed close to the pounding surf, despite the stiff breeze it created. I caught life-changing energy from the crashing waves as I walked. Again, the power God gives us is felt, this time in the waves. Today I learned to look for power in new places. It’s not in controlling someone or something. Instead it’s me being infused with energy to make positive life changes. Where are the power sources in your life? Look around. What you see may surprise and inspire you.
And so, as another day goes by, wisdom is bestowed on us in the most unconventional ways, and…I have written.
February 18th, 2012 “For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.” II Timothy 1:7
If God didn’t give us a spirit of fear and timidity, then where did I get it? I lived from a place of fear and timidity all my life. I feared and was timid in most social situations. I always feared I wasn’t “cool enough” or good enough at whatever the situation called for. I always feared my clothes and hair were all wrong, so that made me timid. I always wanted to hang around the edges and listen to everyone else. It’s a good thing I had my teaching career. My classroom was the only place I was not timid or fearful. Once I got involved with the children, neither one existed. Even at home there was the fear of not enough money, or a clean enough house, or well-behaved children,with clean clothes and homework done. If God doesn’t give this to us, then we must get it from the pressures life puts on us, stemming from that innate desire to please.
So….how do we get to that place of power, love, and self-discipline? Do we simply decide it? Do we just do it by thinking it? Do we cross over into it somehow? In some instances I think you have to have nothing else to lose so there’s no fear to face or any more reason to be timid. Once we realized we have arrived at this place, we stop running. When we stop running, we allow ourselves to be taught. We begin to use the power God has meant for us to make positive changes in our lives. We begin to not only love those close to us better, but we begin to come from a place of love in all we do. We use the self-discipline bestowed on us to stick to decisions we make and keep in sight values we hold in high esteem.
I remember when children would come up to me on the playground and say, “So n so’s chasing me!” My answer was always, “Stop running.” Once again, simple answers to complex questions. As I stop striving to be perfect and stop trying to prove myself, the fear and timidity seem to subside. I crossover into the place of power, love, and self discipline when I finally stop chasing my tail.
And so, as another day goes by, I walk under the rays of the power, love, and self-discipline given to me by God, and …I have written.
February 17th, 2012 Yesterday I wrote about negotiating “the last stretch” both in and out of the yoga studio. I wrote about wanting to lie down just before the finish line, and curl up against the wall with my water and towel. A friend of mine, a very wise and perceptive friend, left a comment on yesterday’s blog. She said:
“Curling up against a wall with water and a favorite “blankee” is such a comforting thought, but it only leaves you curled up against a wall. Comfort only lasts so long. Pretty soon the muscles cramp and the water dries up.”
Comfort only lasts so long. Her words have been resonating through my brain all morning. Again, a simple concept, right on front of me, and I missed it. When you’re going through a long, drawn out painful situation, you seek comfort. Now and then you get bits of it. Then it wears off and the pain returns. Like an addict, you want more, so you begin to do whatever you have to do to get it. Sometimes you even lose sight of the difficulty you’re involved in altogether in your quest to feel better and end the pain.
Then, a wise person crosses your path and states the obvious and the lights go on. Comfort only lasts so long. That’s all you’re doing – spinning your wheels – not solving anything at all. It’s like the Claritin clear commercial and you suddenly realize it’s time to stop seeking comfort and ride out the last stretch. That comfort that looked so good, fades fast and hurts you more than helps you, both in and out of the studio. How many times does the instructor tell us the fanning, drinking and wiping only make it worse? What works? Lying still and not using any unnecessary energy between postures. I have mastered this inside the studio many months ago. Now it’s time to translate it to life outside the studio.
And so, as another day goes by, I give gratitude for the people that have crossed my path this past year, and ….I have written.
February 16th, 2012 Every yoga class is a long, hard, 90 minute journey. I start out vigorous, strong and ready to dig in. By the fifth pose I’m reaffirming my grit. After battling breathing, dizziness, balancing, heat, and sweat, I begin to settle in and get down to business. The rest of the standing series passes productively. The two minute savasana gives a still break. Next comes the spine series. I have a strong spine. It is here I work to build more strength in it, but soon I get tired and fatigued. Next comes the floor series with a sit up in between each pose. The sit ups revive me me and return my energy. After camel, there are three last poses left. This is the last stretch. My mind starts creeping in. I don’t want to do anymore. My strength is beginning to fade again. I just want to STOP and curl up against the wall with my towel and water. I have free will in the yoga room. There is no one stopping me from just quitting and laying down for the rest of the class. Why don’t I? Why do I NEVER? How come I ALWAYS manage to push through those last three poses? In fact, giving up on those last three poses, no matter how little I have left to give, is downright inconceivable to me. Why?
Driving home I thought long and hard about that. I think pushing through those last three poses serves as a daily reminder of how I behave outside the studio. There are difficulties in this life that don’t go away quickly or easily. My back gets held against the wall for an inordinate amount of time. Just as in the 90 minute practice each day, things often get worse before they get better. I know I’m in the last stretch, but just like after camel, there is little comfort in that. I want to shelve it all and give up. Curl up with my towel. Lay down just before the finish line.
On my beach walk today I felt like laying down just before the finish line. The beach was totally empty. It was cloudy, but a warm 50 degrees. The water was calm. The horizon line was so straight. Not a wave or boat to mar it. I stopped. I stood there and looked at that horizon. I thought about those last three poses in yoga, wondering if lying down before the finish line negates the whole journey. I turned and resumed walking down the lonely beach, slowly, putting one foot deliberately in front of the other. I felt the air stir. My heavy heart suddenly lightened when something occurred to me. The thing that came to mind was a question we were posed yesterday in our women’s bible study:
“In what circumstances in your life have you not been willing to consider the circumstances simply because it seemed too difficult?”
I heard myself answer yesterday, “I never mind the challenges. The part I find difficult is if I’m doing the right things. Am I letting God lead me, or am I doing my own thing?”
Hmmm….I blurted out that I never mind the challenges… I never mind challenges. It seems the last stretch is where I learn the most about myself. I learn just what I am made of. I learn just how much I have left to give. I learn that I don’t mind challenges.
My steps got faster and felt lighter. I looked up ahead as I walked toward home, instead of hanging my head. I was actually smiling. The beach didn’t feel lonely anymore. I felt a presence beside me saying, “You never mind the challenges, but you must remember to keep yourself safe and well-cared for as you deal with them. You are not alone.” I felt safe. I felt strong. I felt I can make it through the last stretch. Now I know why it is inconceivable to me that I would ever sit out those last three poses.
And so, as another day goes by, I continue to keep my eyes on the horizon, and…I have written.
February 15th, 2012 This past week I’ve learned a thing or two about wisdom. It’s not anything like my perception of it was. I always thought wisdom was knowing what was right in a certain situation and making sure the people involved knew it too. Not in a bad, self-serving, way of course, but always in a loving, helpful way. The old cliche “The road to hell is paved with good intentions” comes to mind as I write this. I’ve been to hell and back on this particular train. It’s about time I note the train number and avoid this route.
This week I’ve come to learn there are two parts to wisdom:
1. Having a lot to say..and…
2. Not saying it
I’ve realized that there are good things to come from not spouting off my “helpful” wisdom. First of all, it allows others to hear themselves talk. Sometimes I just need to be a reflecting shield and let people hear what they are trying to say. This gives them the chance to work through their issues and really learn from their experiences. By not jumping in and telling them what I know is right, they fix it themselves just by having me listen. Second, keeping my self-proclaimed wisdom to myself allows me to hear what their hearts are really saying. Instead of “Here’s what you should do”, I am now free to convey quiet empathy and understanding, an opportunity that I would’ve run right over and missed had I been focused on fixing it for them.
I also learned about knowing when to speak my wise gems of knowledge. The answer to this conundrum, like many, was so simple: When they ask. Imagine. That simple. When they ask.
Parents take heed. Our children are more capable than we give them credit for – especially when they aren’t children anymore. I know we want to protect them and show them an easier way than we may have had, but I’ve learned that maybe traveling some of our roads themselves is by far the better way grow in a way that I’d want them to, rather than being sheltered from it.
This one was an eye-opener. I was going to print the photo below and hang it on my bathroom mirror, but instead I think it will stick longer if I take the time to paint or draw my own rendition of it.
And do, as another day goes by, for the second time in two days, less REALLY is more, and ….I have written.
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