Monday, December 9, 2013

universal alignment

it's like sometimes the universe aligns. and re-aligns. and then fucking aligns again. and you're like WOAH. WOAH. WOAHHHHHHHHHH. hold the fuck up. hold. the. fuck. up.

because it's just too much.

and i'm not suggesting it's always a great feeling when this happens. it's intense. things just fall into place. and you don't know what happened. or how it happened. but it all fucking happened. you feel knocked over. you feel broken open. you feel raw. you feel scared. if you're lucky, you also feel connected and supported through that time.

personally, the last week has been a little bit of an emotional week. good mostly. meeting new people: feeling vulnerable in ways i haven't in a long time... which is also a little uncomfortable. re-connecting with distanced friends; deepening connections and ties... which is also sometimes anxiety-producing; not knowing what's next.

because of these things, i've also gradually been letting go of a lot of pain and hurt. i didn't even realize i was letting go of it. i noticed this weekend that i wasn't mad at someone that had hurt me recently. i had been pretty pissed off about this hurt for a couple of weeks, and the realization i had this weekend that i wasn't mad any longer was a little confusing. and then, today, i had two people who i hadn't seen in a few months (one this morning and one this evening) stop me and tell me how radiant and happy i looked. both times i blushed, smiled, and swept it aside. must be the haircut.

then i went to yoga tonight. theme: letting go. physically. through the breath. emotionally. through the heart. just really fucking letting go. easy, yeah?


tears streamed through the entire class. i didn't even know why. i knew i was releasing. i knew i was making space. i knew it felt good.

and then, the universe re-aligned again. one of my nearest and dearest sent me a text saying "i am not in a good space right now" two minutes after i left the yoga room. i was there. i was open and vulnerable and spacious and ready. i felt like i could be there for my friend in a way i hadn't allowed myself to be there for someone before. i felt like i was raw and honest and supportive and strong all at the same time. it was hard. it was scary. not wanting to lose reception on the train for even a second, the tears streamed continuously as i walked the hour home.

another hour later, and here i am on the other side. my heart is hurting for my friend. my heart is forgiving myself. and my heart is shifting and opening for my tomorrows.

thanks to kelli for love and support in yoga tonight; to kitty for her always constant check-ins; and to all my loved ones that are hurting right now. lots of big fucking love to you.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

being nice

i went for a run with my friend early last evening. we were both a bit tired, but we decided to run anyway. about halfway through the run, when i could feel my energy dropping and my friend beginning to slow, a woman passed us walking in the opposite direction. she smiled at us and said, "you girls look great!"

umm, did you catch that? those four little words that just slid out of her mouth so easily? those words instantly energized and urged us on. my friend laughed and said, "that's just what i needed!" i smiled and said, "how nice was she?!" we finished our run, and we both went about the rest of our evenings with feelings of lightness.

as i walked in to teach my yoga class last night, i thought about how a simple four word sentence had already buoyed my mood for an hour of my night. is it possible that something so small could have such an impact? (if you're unsure, i'll tell you the answer; it's yes.)

in the yoga class i taught last night, i paused a few times to stop and suggest that the class silently tell themselves something nice about themselves. something as simple as "i'm amazing!" or "i am doing this perfectly!" or "i am happy i took this time for myself." when we did a difficult pose, we'd stop and compliment ourselves. when i felt frustration in the room, we stopped to compliment ourselves. in our meditation at the end of practice, we focused on a positive self-talk statement. during class closing, i encouraged the participants to offer genuine compliments to themselves over the course of the next week, as well as to those in their lives.

so. try it. it's easy:
1. give a compliment to yourself.
2. give one to someone else.
3. smile.
4. feel better.

it works. promise. (you're amazing!) xx

Monday, September 23, 2013

better, stronger

my friend shanil told me this morning "just because you can't do pull-ups, doesn't mean you're not strong." word, brother, word: sometimes you don't know how strong you are.

when my life completely shifted a year ago, without warning, i was worried. i was worried about myself, worried about my life, worried about what people would think and say, worried about my parents, worried about my future... let's say i was just plain WORRIED. a year later, i can hardly believe where i am. i have moved on, and continue to move on, with my life in a lot of ways.

now i feel loved and supported by friends in ways i never knew possible. i have a real family right here in sydney. i have more love in my life than i have ever felt before. and i am so super fucking thankful for all the shifts and changes in my life. y'all know who you are.

thank you.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

my infrastructure

stories: they can be so important. i love my stories. i love to tell my stories. and i get really mad when people interrupt my stories.

sometimes i think about what my stories say about me: what do people really hear when i tell my stories? do they interpret them the way i think they do? this morning i was listening to a podcast on the train. the last lines of it sent shivers down my spine:

"the stories we tell about ourselves: they're almost like our infrastructure, like railroads, or highways. we can build them almost any way we want to. but, once they're in place, this whole inner landscape grows around them. so maybe the point here is that you should be careful about how you tell your story. or at least conscious of it. because once you've told it, once you've built the highway, it's very hard to move it. even if your story is about an angel that came out of nowhere and saved your life. even then, not even the angel herself can change it." from NPR's This American Life, episode 504, How I got Into College.

so there i was, sitting on the train. and all of the sudden i'm visualizing this vast inner-transport system. the veins and arteries have become floating roads and magic, jetsons-style transport tubes. i imagine little cars and people zooming around this whole environment i've created over the course of my life. they'd be so lost if i tried to uproot the organized system; how would one find the route to my thoughts? to my heart? would an angel sweep in and try to help them understand why i had tried to uproot the system?

we do become so attached to these stories we tell. we become attached to the meanings we have created for them. and we get upset if people try to challenge our stories.

my little baby sister got married a few months ago. we were there, his family was there: the families were mingling, mixing their stories. my parents told my sister to tell her "rattlesnake story." my sister refused, saying that we all disagreed with her 8-year-old memory's version of the story. everyone encouraged her to tell it. she did: she told her version of what she remembered and has been re-telling for years. my parents had different recollections, and tried to correct and convince her of some of the mistakes. my sister refused to believe the corrections, though, insisting that it happened to her; her version was the correct one.

what does it really matter if the way she tells her story isn't entirely factual? she knows herself through this story. we all know ourselves through our stories. if someone tried to correct my version of any of my stories, i would shoot them daggers with my eyes. my stories are mine. they make me.

but back to this idea of choosing to shift or change our stories. even when we decide to consciously shift the way we think about something, or to try to let go of something, it can be very difficult. like, more than difficult. but maybe just acknowledging how hard it is, how this shifting requires lots of other changes. imagine the whole city inside yourself: after a shift, all the inhabitants would require training to find things, new maps, new roads in some places, new off-ramps, the googlemaps would have to be updated.... the list is endless. so just acknowledging that each little story shift can take a lot of getting used to: that's my new way forward. well, that and keeping my fingers crossed for tele-transport technology.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

allowing an opening

today i am letting go of old stories: of people in my life that have left; or things i thought were true about myself. i am grateful for the people that were in my life--for what they taught me and shared with me, and for what i learned about myself through my experiences with them. i am happy for their new lives; i am happy for the space and opportunity to invite new people in to my life. i am grateful for the person i am today because of past interactions. i am excited about the new world that is today. it is sunny and full of love. and so am i.