Maturing In My Yoga Practice

This past weekend I attended a two-day yoga teacher training. It's the first one I've been to in over a year.

Yoga teacher trainings are tiring, long, brain intensive and absolutely delightful. It's one of the very rare times I feel like I truly belong.

Yoga teacher trainings always give me a good reminder of my dharma.

This year though, I attended training with a big clunky boot cast on my foot. Six weeks ago I fractured my foot, sprained my ankle and did some damage to the ligaments in the ankle. Yeah me! I've got a couple more weeks to go in the boot and then physical therapy.

When it was time for the yoga practice part of the day, everyone looked at me and my boot.

Oh, no worries, I'm taking this thing off and doing some yoga!

As a yoga teacher, I'm always telling my students to ground evenly through their feet. Spread the toes. Root down in order to lift up.

Oh, sweet baby Jesus, mother **%*, damn that hurts! And all I did was try to spread my toes.

Now, in years past, I would have been totally willing to amputate the foot myself and keep going. In times past, there was no way I would even consider not keeping up with the class or not finding the full expression of the poses.

But, this time, I accepted down dog was out of the question. I was fine with modifying the poses and in a couple cases, even doing a completely different pose that was accessible to me while the class did something else.

I think I'm actually, finally, maturing in my yoga practice.

After ten years, 500 hours of Yoga Alliance recognized teacher trainings, I can't even count how many hours of teaching, my own hit or miss yoga practice, I do believe I am now practicing yoga.

Yoga as it is meant to be practiced.

I'm On Fire. Until I'm Not.

Day 6: on fire
What are the signs that you are on fire?
What I mean to say is: I mean to say, how does it feel in your body when something really gets you going?

Day 7: roadblocks or just detours?
What tends to trip you up?
What is your kryptonite? Ask yourself in the most compassionate of ways.

Times I feel on fire are often the times I'm pursuing my passions; writing, exercise and being creative.   Some nights I can't not write. A good sweaty gym session makes me feel strong.  When I'm on fire I feel healthy. I feel happy. And I do the types of self-care things necessary to keep that momentum going - eating healthy, getting enough sleep, quiet time and exercise. 

I am well aware that when I allow myself to take care of myself, not only does my creativity flourish but I am better able to handle the big and small crisis that life throws at me. 

When I'm on fire I feel confident. 

Yet, it's my own self doubt that too often wipes out that confidence. My kryptonite is me.

I'm not really sure why I allow self doubt to be such big part of my life. I know that the voices in my head are liars. I know that it's vital to my physical, mental and emotional health that I keep those negative voices silenced. 

The way to keep the voices away is by taking care of myself: eating healthy, exercise and rest. I know this. I have studied this. I teach this.

Yet I constantly struggle with it.

The voices tell me I'm not a size 2 and never will be so just eat the ice cream because no one likes me if I'm not that size 2. It doesn't matter that size 2 isn't even realistic for my 5' 9" frame.  Everyone probably thinks I'm fat.

The voices tell me that my writing is stupid and self indulgent. No one wants to read what I write. A real writer would have published her book. A real writer spends her days drinking tea, reading, writing and sitting in the sun. A wanna-be spends her days working two jobs, taking care of kids and feeling guilty for not taking more time to write.

I am my own worst critic. There's no need for anyone else to put me down, I can do a pretty good job of that on my own.

I'm aware of my triggers. I'm usually aware when I'm spiraling down to a bad place again. Although I still struggle with the contentment and depression cycle, I do believe the cycles are getting shorter. 

I am more determined, dare I say confident, to stop the low points immediately and to continue on with the self care I know to be necessary to handle the struggles of being a controlling person in a very out of control life.

This post is part of #AugustMoon, a series of daily writing prompts found at Kat McNally Words To Soothe The Weary Soul.

Exhausted, Scared and (Not Really) Alone

My conversation last night: 

Concerned friend:  You need to write a blog post.
Me:  I don't even know how anymore.
Concerned friend:  Yes you do.

And so here I am.  My first post in four months. I've thought about writing a few times. Many times I sat down to write and nothing would come out. It hasn't been the best of summers. Single mom stress and an unexpected kid crisis have gotten the best of me.

I've spent the past few weeks once again not sleeping well, chronic headaches, nauseous and constantly on the verge of tears. With all my years of yoga, health & fitness training and my time spent in self study and working with life coaches you'd think by now I'd have quite a toolbox of healthy stress relief measures at my disposal.

And I do. I just don't use them.

Instead I retreat into my shell. It's just me against the world. And since I don't know who I can trust I choose to trust no one.  Daily I'm reminded, and more often I remind myself, how scared and alone I am through it all.

Like a caged animal huddling in the corner I lash out and attack anyone who tries to help and comfort me. 

A few weeks ago a coworker returned from her vacation and gifted me with a jeweled anchor necklace. She told me she saw the anchor and thought of me because I'm the one that always anchors everyone together both at work and at home. I mean it when I tell her she's beautiful, the necklace is beautiful and the thought is beautiful.

But what I'm really thinking are anchors are the ones drowning on the bottom trying to keep everyone else afloat. I feel like I'm drowning here. I almost can't breathe I'm dropping so far down.

Who is going to save me? Oh yeah, no one.

Yet I continue on. Get up each morning, put a smile on my face, resist the urge to punch those who tell me how tired I look, try and make ends meet, and do what needs to be done to make sure everyone else is safe and healthy. 

Then this week two different people reminded me that I'm not alone and I need to take care of myself too. One was very nice and made me cry. The other yelled at me and made me cry. Since I didn't quite hear the message the first time I admit I needed the second one too.

One of my personal training clients is moving out of state. She has some unusual health issues that made her the kind of personal training client the other trainers didn't want and were afraid to train. But I love those challenges and we hit it off immediately. She made amazing progress and I'm crazy proud of her.

Before she left for her new home, she came in to the gym one last time. She had a box in her hand and she explained to me that during her time with the fire department she was part of a tradition. She

explained that fire fighters and other first responders will present one another with a gift to thank them for having their back in an emergency. 

When I opened the box I saw a shiny rescue knife. As I took it out of the box she told me, "you've had my back all this time. I want you to remember someone will always have your back too."

Someone will have my back? Really? I wonder who.

Then the phone call yesterday. Those closest to me know when something is wrong. They know when I'm struggling and when I'm not asking for help. They also know I sometimes need tough love. Some words were exchanged. I cried.  I finally admitted I'm exhausted and afraid. 

And here I am now. I've spent most of the day feeling sick. But I think it's more just wore out than regular sickness. 

As directed by my friend I finally wrote a blog post. And tomorrow if I feel better I will go to my first led yoga class in a couple months. It's entirely possible I'll spend most of the class in child's pose crying. And that's OK.

I've been receiving email reminders for a couple weeks now asking me to once again participate in a series of writing prompts that my fellow writer friends use to keep up with their daily writing practice. Day One's prompt is Set An Intention.

So here I go. My intention, no my need, is to stop drowning myself. To remember I have those willing to help if I would just ask. And to recognize those who do love and care about me and stop pushing them away, but rather hold on to them and not let go.

This post is part of #AugustMoon, a series of daily writing prompts found at Kat McNally Words To Soothe The Weary Soul.

Self Care For Creativity

My muse likes to play hide-n-seek.

Tonight she showed herself and I couldn't not write. My fingers weren't fast enough to keep up with my thoughts.

I love nights like this. I'd like there to be more of them.

I talk about making time for more of these nights. I complain about not having more of these nights. I tell people I'm going to find a way to have more of these nights.

But, too often life gets in the way. And I go through long stretches of feeling stagnant before the urge strikes again.

As I was driving home tonight after a marathon writing session, it finally occurred to me when these bursts of creative energy happen.

I'm more creative when I'm more physically active. I'm more creative when I'm eating cleaner. And I'm more creative when I take quiet time for myself.

Ohhhh, so it's that whole self care thing that I seem to struggle with.

When I take care of myself, my self can be free to create.

I need to write that down so I don't forget it again.