Bring Your Mat With You

I love to travel. It removes me from my everyday neuroses--mainly my controlled environment, routine, and perfectionism.  I've been privileged enough to travel to several different countries, mostly with other people. But there have also been times where I have stepped out on my own to explore the world.

One of my strongest and most cherished memories is traveling to England to study abroad my junior year of college. The experience as a whole fell a little flat, looking back on it, but there is one moment that I mark as a peak experience in my life. I had three large bags I was lugging around, trying to get from Heathrow airport to somewhere in the large city--a very new city for me. It was morning rush hour on the tube, I was hungry, disoriented, and extremely sleep deprived. As I arrived at my stop, gathered my bags and stepped off of the tube a great calm amidst the chaos washed over me. In this moment I knew that I was never alone. I knew that I was always with myself and that I was, in fact, my own best friend. It was such a relief to just buddy up with myself like this and it was such a powerful, secure feeling that I often think of it when I am feeling overwhelmed, out of place, or disoriented.

I contribute this insight to my yoga practice. It is fascinating to look back at the undulating, twisting-turning patterns that a consistent yoga practice takes--all on its own, it seems. Looking back, it's clear to me now that during this time in my life my yoga practice was beginning to open me up to myself. This opening never stops, it only changes perspectives, depth and clarity.

This weekend I am visiting my father in Illinois. I'm only here for a few short days, but I had to pack a bag big enough to hold my yoga mat. I didn't even think twice about bringing it. When I am out of my element, it is like a security blanket. Even if I don't use it while I'm here, its bright red mass reminds me that I'm always here for myself--no matter where I am in the world.

Eat Dessert First

Growing up, my room was always the cleanest in the house. Ever since I was very young, I had a compelling need for order in my life. These days, I still have that same hunger for organization--I surround myself with to-do lists, I have tidy piles of folders that contain my bills (in order) among other things. I make the bed every day. It's just how I am. It's how I thrive.

But I've begun to notice how this is also how I get in my own way. If I want to meditate all the dishes must be done. If I want to get on my mat, I absolutely need to fold that pile of laundry first. If I'm going to write I must respond to all my e-mails and take a shower and do everything else before I sit down.

Some people need more organization in their lives. I'm beginning to think that I need less--or maybe I just need to do what I really want to do first and do the dishes later.

I was talking to a friend yesterday and when I was telling her how I was compelled to leave my desk job to teach yoga full-time, she said, "Yes! this is not a dress rehearsal!" Though I find myself fulfilled by my career, I realized her words compelled me to look at my every day life and the ways in which I get in the way of doing the things I love. 

It's not easy making those changes, though. Here I am writing, feeling the nagging need to check my inbox for the first time today--'Oh my goodness! What if there's something important?' Part of me wonders. But really, what could be more important that doing what makes me happy in this moment. This is no dress rehearsal, this is life, the real thing. Live it.

Growing Pains

When is the last time someone told you that things are just as they should be? When is the last time someone told you that you're just perfect the way you are? What if I told you these things now, would you believe me? Probably not. These are things you have to know by yourself.

When I move through a rough patch in life, I have learned that the hardest part about experiencing that suffering is my belief that I should not be going through this. I think to myself, "I do not belong here!" I argue with my greater self/the universe/god that I work so hard to be a good person, surely I am not deserving of this! But still, no matter how I disagree and fight, my life moves through its undulating pattern and it pulls me with it.

Sometimes, though (and these times are rare), I am able to take a small step back from my stance as a victim of life's ups and downs. These are the times I am able to put things into perspective and understand that my life is so minuscule--like looking at a clear night sky and seeing a plethora of stars you didn't know existed; and yet, my being is at the same time a microcosm of the entire universe. 

Especially when times are tough and our lives are challenging, we tend to take it all so personally. That is good in some respects because we begin to learn how our actions and our energies have contributed to this struggle. At the same time, it is important to see that your life has brought you to this challenge so that you can gather experience and strength from it.

Life can sometimes feel utterly cruel, but ultimately, our lives are only attempting to open us up to our greater selves, and to realize that we are exactly where we are meant to be and who we are meant to be. Instead of struggling against the tide, next time you find yourself suffering, try to go with it, even embrace it. This is your experience to grow from--use it.

To Manifest

I'm beginning to see a common thread weaving through my life: I don't think I'm good enough. Sure, I know that I have good friends, I'm well-liked, I have people that love me for who I am and nothing more, but when it comes to manifesting the things in life I feel I deserve, I second guess myself. I stop writing because I think it's in vein. I spread my arts and crafts all over the kitchen table, dedicate a few weeks to creating, and then I hit a wall. I buy fancy cookware and cook books, and they collect dust on the stove and on the shelf. I have so many resources at my fingertips, but when it comes to going through with something completely, or putting myself out there in any kind of risky way, I freeze.

I'm taking this year to listen more closely to my intuition. She says to create, to flourish, to do the things I love. But there is a part of me that battles it out with my intuition, it asks the type of questions that hold me down time and time again--or rather, it doesn't ask questions, it simply says: you can't do that. It says, "You can't make money by selling arts and crafts, Jane." "You'll never make enough money simply teaching yoga," "You don't know the first thing about cooking," "No one is going to publish you...No one even knows about you,".

Instead of standing up to these voices, I give pause. Doubt, right now, is my biggest enemy. So instead of learning to listen more to my intuition this year, maybe I need to make the commitment to act on it more often. I fear that others will question me and doubt my actions, but I must remember that their doubts are only a reflection of my own. Perhaps that doubt is some form of parental love--only trying its best to protect me from myself. Perhaps. And if that's the case, I will simply say to myself, I understand that you're scared and you are only trying to protect me, and I appreciate that, but let's open up this channel that is blocked by fear and learn to manifest things that flow in and feed my spirit, instead of just protecting it. 

Soon, I hope to learn to approach these challenges in my life the same way I approach challenges on my mat: just going for it. I remember being a beginner and thinking to myself, "I can't do that!" Now, several years later, I can't remember the last time I had those thoughts in class. It doesn't matter if I can't do it perfectly, I always try. If I fall, I laugh. If I get hurt, I take it easy. If it takes years to do something, that's okay because I'm still doing something I love.