Why I Did What I Did

While I don't believe I should have to explain my decisions to anyone, I have realized that we exist in a world now of over-sharing, so one's desire to keep matters private comes off as being prideful, spiteful, or worse--personal.  As if the reason I choose to make life decisions for me is, in any way, for someone else.  I keep a very small intimate group of best friends with whom I share my personal struggles and triumphs--but to all others, I prefer to keep things light and fun.  I don't deliberately choose not to spill my beans to everyone, I have just simply always been this way.

With that said, it has been just over a year since I switched careers originally, and only a few months since the latest change.  Every time, I have made changes that affect a lot of people.  With this last move more people noticed, and it has caused some rippling.  That start of the story is when I went from working in an office from 8am to 4pm, doing something I was not passionate about, to working full-time in fitness and wellness.  While my official journey into health/wellness began in 2010, when I received my teaching certification and began teaching yoga, I believe I have been a health/fitness coach my whole life.  In the end, it took a deeply hurtful event to push me out of my comfortable office job. 

For those of you who know, you know, for those who don't, I won't explain here.  But know that I had to mourn something I had lost, and as we all know, the grieving process is long and complicated and different for everyone.  The event start during our engagement and I melted into yoga to help me move through the sticky situation with ease.  I was deeply hurt, but also deeply in love.  I wanted to make sure I felt everything, savored every moment of our engagement and was truly present at our wedding. I wanted to get through it without breaking.  And I did.  

After the wedding, I didn't want to just be a survivor, I wanted a new beginning.  I didn't want to think or feel anything I felt before. I wanted to be a fighter.  I found CrossFit and a fighter I became.  I fought through workouts, I fought through fear, I fought through emotion.  Before long, my yoga practice was no longer a priority.  Looking back at it now, I know this was all part of my mourning.  CrossFit was the perfect next step.  Something to get me on my feet and punch back.  I had to be strong for the person I loved first, and I was.  I became her strongest support, and gave up a lot of myself in our relationship to be there for her.  I started to feel empowered again.  CrossFit that gave me the courage to leave my office job and it was the people at CrossFit who offered me my next step.

When I started yoga, I worked hard to lose my competitive self.  I was constantly comparing, judging, and fighting myself.  Yoga helped me let that go.  So, it comes to no surprise that CrossFit, in it's natural form, brought a lot of that back.  I didn't mind at first, I felt really strong and super badass.  In fact, I believe I needed some of that fire back in my life, because the event left me feeling vulnerable and soft.  But, because I had the tendency to be self-conscious, self-hating, it wasn't long before instead of feeling proud of my strength and the things I could do, I was beating myself up for not being even better. 

My body is no idiot though, it kept injuring itself to force me to take a step back.  I tried to listen, but I was seduced by the particular culture of the particular CrossFit gym I was a part of.  It's no one's fault.  Our gym was/is a very strong gym. The people are amazing and do amazing things with their bodies.  As one of the better females, I felt pressure to always perform--or if I wasn't--justify why I was resting, or feel bad about doing lighter weight.  I take full responsibility for going back before I should, for pushing too hard, as I know now that I should have known better.  But my co-workers were friends, our members were inspiration, and ultimately my own ego was pushing me.  

At the same time, my job at the gym became very demanding. It was less a 9-to-5, as it was a full-time 24/7 position.  I had to live, breathe, sleep it.  At first, this was a relief--our box brought me so much strength, the strength to get past something so difficult.  But then I began to truly lose myself in it. I was competitive, harsh, and stubborn.  My personal yoga practice was almost nonexistent, my time for my husband had to be second to my desire to work hard at my job.  My own personal interests disappeared.  Instead of being a fighter, I had became a machine.  I know now that my blind drive to keep pushing was all part of my grieving and I know this step was necessary in me being where I am today.  

I guess, as really great things are often born out of tragedy, another heartbreaking event had to take place for me to see I had to make yet another change.  This time it was a deep hurt suffered by my husband.  I saw that while he suffered and needed my support, I was truly detached.  I could not find the emotion to help him or comfort him.  Even at the funeral, I felt nothing, despite me having love and gratitude for the deceased.  

So I had to take a hard look at where I was going, who I was, and I didn't like it.  I wanted some of my vulnerability back, I needed to feel open, I needed to feel free.  It's challenging in our society to say to yourself, 'I have to do something for me' without feeling like you have to justify it to others.  And, we as a social society tend to take other's actions and personalized them.  People are always going to ask you why, are you sure, what will you do, what did I do to you, etc.  Even myself, I had to think, 'is leaving my job smart in this economy?' 'what on earth will I do?'  But the risk of losing all that I loved by staying was too great.

Without a true plan, without a job, I left.  Even my dear friend helped lie for me, saying I was leaving for something, because leaving for nothing didn't make sense.  Free, I felt a surge of inspiration and I began reaching out to all those that were doing something awesome with their lives.  Little time passed before I was involved in a lot of wonderful projects.  I volunteered, I taught yoga, I read, I wrote, I practiced.  I started to pave the way to my own destiny and I had NO IDEA where it would go.  I even began the tough road back to my yoga mat.  It was hard, my body and mind felt rigid. But I had to begin again.  

Then, something amazing happened.  A friend who had been scorned by the same gym I had just left reached out to me with an opportunity.  Scared to jump into something too quickly, I decided to take some of his CrossFit classes to see if his community was right for me.  My husband and I went together, and we both left feeling freshly inspired.  This was a place where I felt I could design my own road, I had the freedom to go at the pace that I wanted, and all were welcome.  He even wanted to start and develop a strong yoga program.  We proposed a partnership, and bada-bing-bada-boom, I had something.  

I believe I had to truly jump-off, with no safety net, to land where I am today.  I am finding the balance between feeling strong and in control, with being flexible and open.  I did this for me, for my life, and even though I don't have to justify it to anyone, I can and I will. 

Yoga Drill Sergeant

This morning started like many other Monday mornings—grudgingly dragging my feet from the bedroom to the bathroom.  Stepping over the cat that is always in my way, grabbing my gym bag, but not my coat, and heading out into the barely-started day.  My body operates as a programmed transport for my brain as I park my car, walk down the street, and into the yoga room.  Then, as the students begin to arrive I finally start to feel awake.

While the class kicks off a bit stiff and disjointed, before long the class has transformed into a body of completely focused energy.  I can see my students eyes fixated on the mirror, checking their alignment and struggling to hold on just a moment longer while balancing.  This morning it occurred to me—in a big and bright way, not unlike times before—that yoga is anything but an escape.  It is, if nothing else, an experience of your life, challenged, slowed down and in high definition.  It’s intense.

I've had people approach me to say to me that they want to begin a yoga practice because they want “an escape.”   I’m super stressed and I just need to not think and just relax. They may come into a class with this image of trance-like music, a beautiful teacher with airy words and a soft touch, and students moving effortlessly into spectacular poses.   Welp, sweetheart, that sounds wonderful but that ain’t how it’s going to go.  There will be a lot going on that you may not expect, so you better hang on for the ride.

The truth is, for most people beginning a yoga practice is a large undertaking.  First step is always stepping through the door.  Then once you’re in the room, chaos happens.  You’re looking into the mirror not just at yourself, but at yourself amid a sea of others.  Combine your already stressed state, with not knowing what the teacher will say, what to do with your hands, and wondering why the heck you’re so sweaty already and you have a jumbo-size mental mess.  Of course there will be moments when you must come to terms with all the physical postures you may not be able to do.  There will be moments of ego, where you must wrestle with your urge to critique and judge your physical abilities. What?! I can’t balance on one foot?  This is bullshit!  It’s not simply a physical practice, but a mind and body experience that will challenge all parts of you, even to points of discomfort.

You will face moments that have pushed many to quit in the past, because they wanted something easy and dammit it’s not.  Because yoga is not a single experience, a serene and isolated beach that will remain the same each time you come to it.  No, each time you step on your mat it’s a whole different ballgame.  From the moment you left your mat to the moment you’ve come back, you’re carrying new baggage, new experiences, everything that you put into your body since then.   And if you’re not paying attention you may end up on your ass—literally and figuratively.

So why does this image of peaceful and stress-free yoga sessions keep taunting all the brand new beginners, as if the jokes on them?  Does it ever become easy? Last week I had a student tell me, “Wow, you’re a slave driver—I like it.  You’ll see me next week.” What?! That doesn't sound like a yoga teacher I want to go to!  You should know, yoga was not by any means easy for this man.  He is well past his 50s, had to use the wall for balance, took modifications of most poses, and sweats enough to create his own, private pool.   But he had over an hour to wrestle his demons head on and he came out alive--smiling even.  Really, I just helped guide him from one point to the other, with gentle reminders in between.   You are challenged to meet yourself exactly where you are, both mentally and physically, and then willingly let go of disillusion. Following every sweaty torture of holding dreaded eagle pose, is the opportunity to release.   So no, I’m not the slave driver, you are—but you’re welcome anyway.

The calm, tranquil, serene beach of paradise can be found in yoga or any other activity you find to be challenging because it forces us to let go of the false image of ourselves.  We must rise to the occasion to get through what we are doing.  We must be better than we think we are.  And that is a wonderful feeling.  That is the moment of Ahhh.  That is why my students get up every morning and get on their mats--to face themselves in the mirror and come out victorious.

Cat savasana

Feed the Wolf

Often I hear people saying that they want to recreate themselves.  They are coming to yoga to recreate their mind-body connection or getting healthy to recreate their sexy and more youthful self, or the oh-so-cliché post-relationship total image overhaul—recreate, recreate, recreate.  I am guilty of very much the same; feeling an urge to recreate myself into the woman I thought I should be by now.  There is an image of the me that I am and the image I want to be.  I can get stuck believing that because I sit at a desk answering phones, opening doors, and directing people to offices that I am somehow morphing into a one-dimensional secretary from a 1950s sitcom.   It’s easy to latch onto anything that I’ve done in my past and use it to define who I am—label myself a blah.  Then in sheer fear of the person I created, I search to strip down and recreate.

But, the idea of recreating me suggests that I somehow created myself wrong.  And I don’t like that—not one bit. 

In yoga, the belief is that we are all already whole and complete beings.  We have all that be need to be great within ourselves, in the same place where we keep our struggles and our fears.  Everything is inside.  A Native American proverb says it simply,

A fight is going on inside me, he said to the boy. It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. This same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too.The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, Which wolf will win?

The old Cherokee simply replied, The one you feed.

I posted before about how there are no “wrong steps,” for without what we perceive as mistakes, we would never be where we are today.  In the same way, some of the things we’ve done do not define who we are, but rather help shape who we are becoming.  When I practice yoga, I need to remember that I am connecting to my true self, not getting rid of a version I don’t like.  In the same way, when I push really hard in a CrossFit workout or challenge myself to try something new and scary, I am not recreating myself.  Instead, I am finding a part of me that was left unattended and unfed.  Over time, in the moments that we allow, we can see ourselves as whole and complete human beings.  This reminder comes at a perfect time, as I am faced with some tough choices.  One is daunting, fresh, yet exciting; while the other is safe, boring and tiresome.  

We have the choice of which wolf to feed.