Monday, January 28, 2019

Inspired Vrkasana


Today, for the very first time ever, I had an “aha” moment, where inspiration hit me in the middle of yoga class.

I have heard of this happening to other people. I’ve often heard stories of inspiration coming to yogis during their practice. It could be as simple as a mantra or a solution to their problems of the day. I was always a little envious upon hearing such stories, because inspiration like that was something I craved. In a yoga practice I am very lucky if I’m able to turn my “monkey mind” off, as I am always thinking about things I need to do later, what I am going to cook for dinner, a busy case at work, or a yoga sequence I need to write for my own yoga classes.

But today, inspiration hit.

A friend of mine from my yoga teaching training (YTT) is teaching a series at a local yoga studio called “Yoga for Caregivers”, which is focusing on self-care, as most of us are caregivers in some fashion. I took this class because of course I wanted to support my friend, but mostly because I think she is an amazing teacher and wanted to take her class.

Let me pull a Tarantino here. Before the class, I was trying to finish some homework, meet another deadline I had, and prepare dinner before I left the house. It was frantic and I was stressed. Honestly, going to this class became just “one more thing” I had to do, and the thought of not going to this class had crossed my mind because I knew if I explained why I couldn’t go that my friend would be understanding. I talked myself out of that negative thinking, though, and forced myself to leave the house despite the seemingly endless list of things needing to be done.

I’m so glad I did.

For the first time in a long time, I was able to turn my mind off. I was able to stop focusing on the fact that I needed to put fuel in my car on the way home because my take was on “E”, the groceries I needed to pick up after that, and the chores that I had to do before I went to bed later in the evening. I was able to focus on my breathing, on my practice, and only things that were going on in the four walls surrounding me – everything else that had no place in that room managed to stay out of the room. It was beautiful.

So there I was, doing a pose called Vrksasana, or tree pose. When doing any balance pose it is helpful to establish a focal point, something that doesn’t move, in order to help with balance. There was a woman in front of me, and she had her journal and her black, thick-rimmed glasses on the floor; I used her glasses as my focal point. As I became comfortable in my pose, for the first time since class had started, my mind began to wander. I lost my drishti, my focused gaze, and began to wobble in the pose, losing my balance.

That is the exact moment that inspiration came to me.

I had lost my balance because I lost my sight of what was important to me at that moment, which was my focus to hold the pose. Only once I regained my focus was I able to regain my balance and hold the pose.

That seemingly insignificant event made for introspection – What other areas of my life require more focus? What other areas of my life require balance?

While I need to reflect on those questions a bit more in order to discover the answers, I do know one thing: self-care is so incredibly important. I preach this to my counseling clients to the point where they are nearly sick of hearing it, although I find it sometimes difficult to make that time in my own life. I am so very glad that I took that hour to invest in myself today, as the physical activity and insight gained during that time were invaluable.

Take time to observe areas in life that may require a bit more focus or balance.

Take time to invest in yourself.

You are most certainly worth it.

Namaste

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

Do the Sh*t that Scares You


“Do the shit that scares you”. That has been my motto for nearly the past year.

My whole life, I felt like I’ve stayed in this little bubble of sorts, this bubble being my “comfort zone”. I think most people stay there. Sure, sometimes we get out of that comfort zone and do something a little “scary”, but most of the time we stay in that cushy little bubble. We’re comfortable there, so why bother doing anything else if that’s working for us?

Sounds great, right?

Well, here’s the thing. We cannot find growth if we stay in our comfort zone.

I wasn’t too sure about this when I first heard it too, but now that I’m a little bit older (and hopefully a little bit wiser) I see the truth in that statement. If we confine ourselves to our comfort zone, we have no reason to grow. Things are working as they are. But if we dare to go out of that comfort zone, even just a little bit, that’s where growth takes place.

You know that thing you’ve been putting off for xyz reason? Maybe you put it off because you don’t think you’re good enough to do it, or because that goal takes a long time to achieve. Or maybe it’s expensive. Or it involves you doing something that gives you anxiety just thinking about it? Those are the things that are worth pushing yourself to do.

Public speaking. For me, just the thought of doing so gives me anxiety. I avoided any jobs that had that in the job description, and me being in the field that I am in, that really limited my options. I remember giving a speech in a class in college, where I was familiar with all of my classmates and I was shaking so hard you could literally hear it in my voice. Later, I remember accompanying a colleague on a public speaking engagement as her emotional support and cheerleader. Of course, one of the questions someone asked was about something that I was knowledgeable about and my colleague wasn’t, so my colleague nonchalantly passed the microphone to me. I answered the question, but my legs were very noticeably shaking the entire time. No, there was no podium for me to hide behind and it was very noticeable.

Fast forward about two years, and I decided I wanted to become a wellness advocate for doTERRA. The thought of doing a class intimidated me so much, that I became the queen of doing one-on-one’s, but doing a class just made more sense as you can reach more people more efficiently, plus the social setting was just a lot more fun. So, I planned a class at my home. I practiced the presentation several times. The day of my class arrives, my living room is full of people (one of my mentors was in the audience), I’m giving my presentation and my worst fear happens. The words will literally not come out. I tried to start the first sentence three times. Then the fourth time the words came out. Guess what? I didn’t die. No one even made fun of me. I simply continued my presentation and that was that. Even later I don’t remember anyone mentioning it. Of course I brought it up when I was talking about it later, but not one of my guests mentioned anything about it.
Guess what happened after that? The thought of public speaking became a little less scary. That anxious feeling is always there, but it’s less each time I speak. Since that living room presentation I’ve done a few public speaking engagements. I also got a new job where I give several briefings a week, to groups as large as 50 people or more, and I can do it without my leg shaking. Sure, I make mistakes, but I learned that everyone does. It’s okay. Most of the time our audience is much more gracious and forgiving than we are to ourselves.

You might be thinking “Well Joanne, that sounds good and all, but what if I do that scary thing and I fail?” Well, who ever said that failing was a bad thing? We (hopefully) learn from our failures. So, when that does happen, either we take what we learned an apply that knowledge to another attempt, or we move on in a different direction with that knowledge. Both of those are okay.

At the expense of sounding like a broken record, I want to say something again to make my point absolutely clear: it’s okay to make mistakes. It’s okay to try and fail, try again, and then fail again. That is all part of the learning and growing process.

And if you try and fail? Well, at least you can say that you tried, and you will go the rest of your life wondering “what if…?” Isn’t that alone well worth the risk?