...but I haven't necessarily learned which words I'm supposed to capitalize in a headline.
Anyway, this seems to keep coming up in my life the past two weeks or so during conversations with friends—not that I'm sad, I'm good—so I figured I'd ramble about it for awhile, to you, dear sweet five followers of mine.
I was watching Lewis CK talk on Conan, and while hilarious, he hits on something I've tried to explain to a couple of friends recently. It's okay to be sad. It's even good to be sad sometimes. I think that a lot of us spend so much of our time choking down tears, hiding our feelings, or avoiding them all together, that we don't really get to just work through it. It's so much harder to get past a break-up, bad news from the past, or whatever it is that's bringing you down without looking it dead in the eye. If you don't, it'll lurk in the shadows.
On the other hand, I don't think it's ok to be sad forever. That's where you have to find balance and give yourself a "deadline" to say, ok, it's time to move on now, or at least pick yourself up. (Easier said than done, I know.) Of all the things anyone said to me back in January, the best advice was, "Be sad. Be sad for as long as it takes. Don't rush it. Feel it." And while "as long as it takes" is subjective, that's all part of the process of just living. What's the point of life if you go through it numb? You have to feel the bad to relish in the good.
- end ramble.
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 17, 2013
Meditation is Hard
As part of yoga teacher training, I get an unlimited amount of classes during the eight-month school period. So, in addition to being encouraged to do so, I want to take advantage of the opportunity to learn as much as possible and experience different types of yoga. Last night I took on meditation.
I've kind of sort of tried this before, but my brain moves a million miles a minute and I'm always thinking about the 46 other things I could/should be doing as I sit and try to be present. I generally do not make it through whatever meditation I'm trying because I'm too busy wondering if I remembered my keys, did I dust under the table, are my plants well watered...? Going into this class I knew it would be a challenge. I was certainly correct.
I'm not sure how long the actual meditation piece of the class was. I'm guessing about ten minutes. We were instructed to say, "Now," to ourselves if our minds wandered from our breath. I've gotten different instruction for this before: a sort of Spartan "you will focus on the breath and only the breath" command, guidance to acknowledge a thought as it comes up, but do not engage with it—like watching a parade go by in your mind, as well as a path somewhere between the two. I think last night fell into that middle ground. We were told not to move, do not scratch an itch, and barring pain or a high level of discomfort, just sit still. (My interpretation of what we were told anyways.)
I was getting a little chilly so before I ventured into these strange new waters, I threw on my hoodie. Sitting in half lotus, I felt I was ready to go. It didn't take long before I was repeating, "Now," to myself...a lot. Shortly after that my entire body started to reject the whole process. I began sweating and felt like I was on fire. How was I cold a minute ago and now I'm sweating and I haven't even moved? This lead to further turmoil in my mind. NOW. Oh my God I'm so hot I may get sick. NOW. Is my foot falling asleep? NOW.
At some point my body relaxed itself and I returned to normal human temperature. A couple of times it seemed like my mind had even gone blank when I heard the teacher reminding us to stay present. Stay in the room. Stay with our bodies. Breathe. NOW. Once I was reminded to be there in that room, I realized, yes, my foot—and entire leg—was falling asleep. NOW I was uncomfortable. I started to wonder if I could move NOW. How about NOW?
By the end of what seemed like an eternity, we were talked through coming out of the meditation—shortly after I was pretty much just repeatedly yelling NOW at myself. Probably not the gentle loving kindness I'm supposed to be showing myself. Just when I was thinking, "Ok, well I tried it. This isn't for me," the teacher gave a retching example of why we should all learn how to be more present.
She spoke of when her father was ill and how she struggled with feeling like she was under a black cloud and everything seemed to be falling apart. She had to consciously make the decision to stay present, to be with him, because she had no idea how much time was left. As I sat in the back of the room listening, I found tears welling up in my eyes because that was exactly what I had gone through with Grams. Fighting with myself to stay in that room, to take in every moment I could because these were the last. After all the years of wondering how much longer we had her, that question was being answered with hours and minutes. If ever there's an example of needing to stay in the present moment, those times are it. Sometimes I wonder if I ever really left that room.
By the end of the night I knew that I would be returning, and although it will be a struggle, it's one worth having. We don't need to be thrown into life-changing events to make us realize that what we have in front of us is the most important, and perhaps even all, we will ever have. So we need to breathe in, breathe out, and thank whoever or whatever you believe in that we get to be on this crazy ride at all. And if that seems like too much, we can at least start by trying.
I've kind of sort of tried this before, but my brain moves a million miles a minute and I'm always thinking about the 46 other things I could/should be doing as I sit and try to be present. I generally do not make it through whatever meditation I'm trying because I'm too busy wondering if I remembered my keys, did I dust under the table, are my plants well watered...? Going into this class I knew it would be a challenge. I was certainly correct.
I'm not sure how long the actual meditation piece of the class was. I'm guessing about ten minutes. We were instructed to say, "Now," to ourselves if our minds wandered from our breath. I've gotten different instruction for this before: a sort of Spartan "you will focus on the breath and only the breath" command, guidance to acknowledge a thought as it comes up, but do not engage with it—like watching a parade go by in your mind, as well as a path somewhere between the two. I think last night fell into that middle ground. We were told not to move, do not scratch an itch, and barring pain or a high level of discomfort, just sit still. (My interpretation of what we were told anyways.)
I was getting a little chilly so before I ventured into these strange new waters, I threw on my hoodie. Sitting in half lotus, I felt I was ready to go. It didn't take long before I was repeating, "Now," to myself...a lot. Shortly after that my entire body started to reject the whole process. I began sweating and felt like I was on fire. How was I cold a minute ago and now I'm sweating and I haven't even moved? This lead to further turmoil in my mind. NOW. Oh my God I'm so hot I may get sick. NOW. Is my foot falling asleep? NOW.
At some point my body relaxed itself and I returned to normal human temperature. A couple of times it seemed like my mind had even gone blank when I heard the teacher reminding us to stay present. Stay in the room. Stay with our bodies. Breathe. NOW. Once I was reminded to be there in that room, I realized, yes, my foot—and entire leg—was falling asleep. NOW I was uncomfortable. I started to wonder if I could move NOW. How about NOW?
By the end of what seemed like an eternity, we were talked through coming out of the meditation—shortly after I was pretty much just repeatedly yelling NOW at myself. Probably not the gentle loving kindness I'm supposed to be showing myself. Just when I was thinking, "Ok, well I tried it. This isn't for me," the teacher gave a retching example of why we should all learn how to be more present.
She spoke of when her father was ill and how she struggled with feeling like she was under a black cloud and everything seemed to be falling apart. She had to consciously make the decision to stay present, to be with him, because she had no idea how much time was left. As I sat in the back of the room listening, I found tears welling up in my eyes because that was exactly what I had gone through with Grams. Fighting with myself to stay in that room, to take in every moment I could because these were the last. After all the years of wondering how much longer we had her, that question was being answered with hours and minutes. If ever there's an example of needing to stay in the present moment, those times are it. Sometimes I wonder if I ever really left that room.
By the end of the night I knew that I would be returning, and although it will be a struggle, it's one worth having. We don't need to be thrown into life-changing events to make us realize that what we have in front of us is the most important, and perhaps even all, we will ever have. So we need to breathe in, breathe out, and thank whoever or whatever you believe in that we get to be on this crazy ride at all. And if that seems like too much, we can at least start by trying.
Sep 8, 2013
Forgetfulness was My Downfall
Today was my second full day of teacher training. (Technically it was the third day, but day one was orientation.) Anyway, I woke up this morning and wanted tacos. Hey, its happens. It's not the worst way to start a day.
I got up early to go to a 9:15 a.m. yoga class to start doing my make up hours for the one training class I know I am going to miss for a friend's wedding. That class ended at 10:30 a.m. and I was starving. "This is too early for tacos," I thought. So I went home and made eggs.
By 2 p.m. sitting in training I was starving and now tacos were pretty much all I could think about. Well, there was also, "I wonder how long I am going to have to hold this pigeon variation," and "Oh, that's how a tight hip can cause knee pain."
But then...it was 20-minute break time. So I hurried my little butt on over to Taco Truck and ordered myself some chorizo tacos with extra cheese. I was so happy they finally had chorizo back on the menu. Knowing I had to go back and do some yoga, I only got two tacos instead of three. Good thinking, right?
First, no, an hour is not enough time to digest tacos. But hey, now I know. After class, sitting on my floor watching an anatomy video, it hit me: "CRAP I ATE CHEESE!"
So my dairy experiment has already failed because I totally forgot about the dairy experiment in the first place. I just really wanted some tacos. I guess the good news is, that I have eaten remarkably less dairy the past few days and think maybe I notice a difference. I've also been using the neti pot (without any nose-leaking mishaps later in the day!).
Maybe I will continue to try to cut back on dairy? Or maybe I'll go back to trying to not have any, so long as I remember. I have stuck to the gluten-free thing, so there's that.
I got up early to go to a 9:15 a.m. yoga class to start doing my make up hours for the one training class I know I am going to miss for a friend's wedding. That class ended at 10:30 a.m. and I was starving. "This is too early for tacos," I thought. So I went home and made eggs.
By 2 p.m. sitting in training I was starving and now tacos were pretty much all I could think about. Well, there was also, "I wonder how long I am going to have to hold this pigeon variation," and "Oh, that's how a tight hip can cause knee pain."
But then...it was 20-minute break time. So I hurried my little butt on over to Taco Truck and ordered myself some chorizo tacos with extra cheese. I was so happy they finally had chorizo back on the menu. Knowing I had to go back and do some yoga, I only got two tacos instead of three. Good thinking, right?
First, no, an hour is not enough time to digest tacos. But hey, now I know. After class, sitting on my floor watching an anatomy video, it hit me: "CRAP I ATE CHEESE!"
So my dairy experiment has already failed because I totally forgot about the dairy experiment in the first place. I just really wanted some tacos. I guess the good news is, that I have eaten remarkably less dairy the past few days and think maybe I notice a difference. I've also been using the neti pot (without any nose-leaking mishaps later in the day!).
Maybe I will continue to try to cut back on dairy? Or maybe I'll go back to trying to not have any, so long as I remember. I have stuck to the gluten-free thing, so there's that.
Sep 6, 2013
Day Two No Dairy. Day One Yoga School.
I think that by eliminating gluten and now dairy from my diet, I've effectively removed 90 percent of the things that I eat. I've been eating a lot of bananas. I'm not sure that's healthy. I did reconfirm today that I dislike curry. It's just not good.
Day two of my three-week dairy fast was also day one of my 200-hour yoga teacher training, which is way more exciting than the constant debate about whether or not to eat ice cream (it's only day two...I've had this debate at least ten times already). I wanted to do this when I was 22. Twelve years later, someone saying to me, "Make a list of the things that you would do if you weren't afraid" put this as number one. Mainly because I hate public speaking. So I signed up.
The people I met tonight are all amazing and I think this may end up being one of the best decisions I've ever made. The program is mostly one full weekend a month plus one additional Saturday for eight months. I'm really excited and can't wait to go back tomorrow. Unfortunately, by the time class got out, all the produce stores were closed and I couldn't buy any more bananas.
Day two of my three-week dairy fast was also day one of my 200-hour yoga teacher training, which is way more exciting than the constant debate about whether or not to eat ice cream (it's only day two...I've had this debate at least ten times already). I wanted to do this when I was 22. Twelve years later, someone saying to me, "Make a list of the things that you would do if you weren't afraid" put this as number one. Mainly because I hate public speaking. So I signed up.
The people I met tonight are all amazing and I think this may end up being one of the best decisions I've ever made. The program is mostly one full weekend a month plus one additional Saturday for eight months. I'm really excited and can't wait to go back tomorrow. Unfortunately, by the time class got out, all the produce stores were closed and I couldn't buy any more bananas.
Sep 4, 2013
I May Die
Well, I mean, not really. Here's the thing. I've noticed lately that I am pretty much constantly congested. And just like it can't rain all the time, it can't be allergy season all the time (Or can it? Because that would pretty much suck.) So, to avoid going to the doctor, as I seem to have a penchant for lately (No, I can't walk...Yes, it may be broken...I'm just going to shake it off...) I asked Google what I should do.
Neti pot. Check. I know some people late these. I love it. I love everything that comes with it. Even how if you bend over to pick something up four hours after you've used it a tiny waterfall comes spewing forth from your face. (Ok, this isn't really cool, and probably means I'm using it wrong, but I still find it pretty damn hilarious.) So anyways, I shall start to Neti on the regular.
Cut out dairy. The fuck, you say? Dr. Oz says that week one will remove dairy from your system, week two will let your body heal, then week three something else happens that I immediately forget even though I just read it. Clearly, something's bound to go wrong in week three. But this is where I may die.
As I sit here to ponder whether or not I can cut out dairy for three weeks, potentially forever, I already know the answer is no. I mean, no ice cream. Come on. And as I finish downing my salad that I have covered in feta cheese, I am thinking this mission is pretty much a failure from the get go. But hey, I'm going to try it anyway. And I will bitch about it here. Unless I forget. I tend to think blogging about stuff will make me stick to it, but then I just forget to blog, and whatever goal I am trying to hit also falls away.
Regardless, I'm tired of being congested. But maybe I'm allergic to dust mites. Maybe I should just give up dust mites.
Neti pot. Check. I know some people late these. I love it. I love everything that comes with it. Even how if you bend over to pick something up four hours after you've used it a tiny waterfall comes spewing forth from your face. (Ok, this isn't really cool, and probably means I'm using it wrong, but I still find it pretty damn hilarious.) So anyways, I shall start to Neti on the regular.
Cut out dairy. The fuck, you say? Dr. Oz says that week one will remove dairy from your system, week two will let your body heal, then week three something else happens that I immediately forget even though I just read it. Clearly, something's bound to go wrong in week three. But this is where I may die.
As I sit here to ponder whether or not I can cut out dairy for three weeks, potentially forever, I already know the answer is no. I mean, no ice cream. Come on. And as I finish downing my salad that I have covered in feta cheese, I am thinking this mission is pretty much a failure from the get go. But hey, I'm going to try it anyway. And I will bitch about it here. Unless I forget. I tend to think blogging about stuff will make me stick to it, but then I just forget to blog, and whatever goal I am trying to hit also falls away.
Regardless, I'm tired of being congested. But maybe I'm allergic to dust mites. Maybe I should just give up dust mites.
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