Author: Mark V

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500 Words a Day – Day Three – I AM a Writer

I woke up this morning wanting to write a piece about acroyoga and I seem to be at a block. Maybe that’s why I have such a hard time actually sitting down and writing, or that I wait until the mood strikes me. Part of it is that I feel rushed for time and part of it is that I want to make sure I do a “good job.” That is an article I hope I would be able to get published, so I don’t just want to rush it, so I guess it makes sense. However, I feel I’m judging myself for not just sitting down and busting it out.

The question that gets me is how to change my writing from stream of thought, like I’m doing here, to getting it more focused. That way when I do sit down to write, I can write a piece of something good and useful. Not all of my writing needs to be good and useful, but there is a part of me that wants to be of use (see yesterday’s post lol).

There is also the judgment on myself of not being a writer. I had a conversation a few months back with someone that started to change how I view myself. I used to consider myself an aspiring writer, meaning I journaled and wanted to start a blog or write a book. From that conversation I got that I AM a writer. My thoughts about myself changed and I began to believe the new story I told myself. From that point, I was able to start a blog and get some good blogs out (at least I think they were good). I even had one published (here). I’m actually pretty proud of that. But my quest, my ideal is to be able and sit down and write something good when I want to, not just when the mood strikes.

A part of what I would like to start doing, and here comes the “It’s so hard I can’t do it crap,” is that I’d like to start blending research into my blog posts. Not so much like I did for my graduate work (not sure I’ll ever want to go that far again), but there is some good, relevant research out there that I feel would be good to make known. I feel it’s hard to do that in a short period of time. And maybe there is some truth to that. So how do I reconcile two things, the feeling that I can’t write quality pieces without a lot of time put in and the feeling that I don’t actually have the time to do this?

I guess I actually sit down and write, kinda like I’m doing here lol. The more you practice something, the better you get at it. That makes sense. Let go of judgements of myself, that I’m not a writer, that I can’t write good things quickly. I am a writer, and a good writer. And I CAN write good pieces quickly (just had to get that self affirmation out). So that leaves trying to get more focused when I do write. I guess that’s what this experiment will be about for me. Making the time to write, and keeping my writing focused on a specific topic. Wish me luck…

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500 words – Day 2 – Questions and More Questions

I was having a good day today. For two days in a row, I received compliments from clients and I was feeling good. But then something happened. I got hurt by something someone said. Everything got derailed. It’s weird. I don’t think about myself as being that sensitive. I mean, I know I’m sensitive, especially for a guy, but am I really that sensitive? When it’s the right thing, apparently the answer is, yes.

So here I am. I had things I wanted to write about today, things that weren’t so…personal. But I’m at the end of the day and here I am. I need and want to get this done, so this is what I have. I don’t want to be here, don’t want to be around people. And I hate that word, people. Just sounds weird. But I digress.

I got hurt. So what? I usually can see things for what they are, let what people say roll off me. I understand how they have their own hurts, that most people don’t intend to hurt others with what they say, or how they say it. Understanding that I can let it go, not take it personally. But this one got me. Right to the core.  I was trying to figure out what it was that bothered me, why it bothered me, why I couldn’t let it go. I figured it out and almost started crying.

I realized that I like to help people (gee, wonder why I’m a therapist). Guess that wasn’t really new, but one of the reasons why was. It was that I like to help because I want to feel needed, that I have a reason to exist. To be of need. I like to do things for people. Is it because I care? Yes. But also it’s apparently for me. When you do something, not to help someone else, but because you want to be needed, it ceases to be about them and it’s really just a selfish act. Feeling like I’m kinda off track here, but the words are flowing and I’m not sure I want to interrupt.

Back to wanting to be needed. I do really like to help. It does make me feel good to help others, does that make it all about me? Maybe, sometimes. To be needed. The core of who I am? Not sure about that, but a part of who I am for sure. Why do I try and help people who don’t want it? Not always, but I do. And what is the difference for those I try to help that don’t want it and those I don’t try to help? The ones that I say can ask for help if they really want it? And, why am I surprised when I try to help someone who doesn’t want help and they get upset with me? Shouldn’t I just accept that? Not necessarily accept them being upset with me, but at least not be surprised and hurt about it.

Back, again, to wanting to be needed. It’s not really needed that I want, but to be accepted. To be loved. I guess on some level I associate doing things for people, being needed by them, with being accepted and loved. And when I try to do things for them, and it’s not wanted, I feel unaccepted and unloved. Which hurts to the core.

I usually try to end these things with what I learned, and I guess I kinda did. But really it’s just hurt that I have right now. That’s OK, I can sit with it. It’s not comfortable, but it’s real. I do know myself more, which I’m thankful for. And I feel searching yourself, learning more about yourself, is part of what life is about. And that’s always good.

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Back at it

Sooo… Two days ago a friend asked me how often I blog. My initial response, which I didn’t actually say was, “not often enough.” I didn’t say it because it felt like a put down on myself and I try not to do that anymore. What I did say was that I tend to blog in spurts, i.e. when the mood suits me. This has been characteristic of my life, I often do what I want, when I want. On the one hand, I kind of like living that way. On the other, my rebellious side kicks in and things I “should” do, or actually need to do, often get pushed aside until I get around to them. The quote (and I have no idea who said it), “do the things you need to do when you need to do them, so you can do the things you want to do when you want to do them,” often comes to mind. That’s something I do believe and it’s time to make that change in my life.

Then, yesterday another friend posted on his blog, Kale & Cigarettes, about an experiment he has done and is planning to do again. Writing 500 words a day and then posting it for everyone to see, and doing it for 30 days.

I’m doing this for several reasons. I see how this guy lives life what he’s done in life, and I think it’s pretty cool. While I have my own life to live, I do understand that there are certain practices we can incorporate into our daily lives that can make them better, closer to what we want. Daily blogging isn’t something I ever set out to do, but I used to journal daily and the changes I went through back then were pretty amazing.

I’m also doing this because, as I said earlier, I often only do things when I want, not when I need to do them. I recognize that my rebelliousness has served me in life, it’s a part of me that will probably always be there and one that I’ve come to recognize and enjoy. However, I’ll admit it gets in the way. When I want to do something and I know it’s good for me, but I don’t because of sheer stubbornness, it’s a problem. In a spoken word, Henry Rollins once said (and I’m paraphrasing), “Ruled by a plant, what  joke.” He was referring to drugs and alcohol but I think it applies to emotions and personality, as well. We all have them, it’s what makes us individuals, but we aren’t meant to be ruled by them.

I’m also hoping to become a better writer by doing this experiment. I’ve had many topics I’ve wanted to write about, but the “mood” just hasn’t hit me. One that I’ve tried to get out many times is living with depression, to try and explain what it’s like. I usually get about two paragraphs in and quit, it’s just too depressing, lol.

I guess I’m just looking to be a better person, a better man. I often fail miserably, but by making little steps in the right direction I hope I will eventually get there. So here is a little step that I hope will get me where I want to go. And in a salute to my rebelliousness, maybe I’ll only do 29 days. Or 60 days, who knows…

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Practicing Handstands

I did my first handstand press up the other day. It’s something that I’ve been working on for the past 9 months, so I am estatic that it finally happened. Of course, with the way my mind works, there’s a lesson in there. But first things first. For those of you who don’t know, a handstand press is when you start from standing, place your hands on the floor in front of you and, without jumping, simply lift your legs over your head. “Simply,” right? Hah! It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever tried to do and for months my feet wouldn’t even leave the ground. And I consider myself to be in fairly good shape. I’d also like to say my feet went right up over my head into the perfect handstand. Hahahahaha, nope. The truth is, the moment my feet went over my head I freaked out, fell out of the handstand and almost landed on my face. It scared the hell out of me, mostly because I didn’t truly think it would happen. I’m still learning how to do a solid handstand, and yet I can now, apparently, press my feet over my head. Who knew? 

So, back to the lessons. The easy thing to talk about would be about perseverance, and it’s true you have to keep trying things in order to get better. And learning can be a slow process. I’ve been trying to do a handstand press since the first time I saw someone do one. It was so cool to see them just lift their feet over their head, and I wanted to do that, too. And I’ll admit it, there’s a bit of my ego involved with this. But I couldn’t do it. I tried and tried and tried. For months. I took and a handstand clinic to improve my handstand. Maybe two. Or three. But the best I could do was to lift my feet an inch or two off the ground. Even that was sooooo freaking hard. I gave up for a while. Stopped doing handstands every chance I got and what little gains I had made, I lost. Then a couple months ago I started trying again. My handstand improved. Still no press, but I’ve been been able to hold a handstand for about 8 seconds.

Then, last week, I was hanging out with one of my friends, who is an excellent yoga teacher, and the woman I’ve been seeing, who is also an incredible yoga teacher. The two of them both start playing with their handstand presses (because they both can) and they start talking about doing this one simple thing that I’ve never even heard about. Bending your knees. I’m amazed. I go off into a corner (because obviously I don’t want to be out in the open if I fail) and I try it. I do it! It wasn’t pretty, I didn’t hold it at all and I almost fell on my face. But I did it! I was amazed and happy! I turn to the woman I’ve been seeing and asked if she saw it. She said “yes.” I said, “I had no idea that bending your knees could help you do a press.” Her response?? “Well, yeah. It makes it so much easier. But why didn’t you tell me you wanted to do a press? I would have told you that months ago.” Oh…

I now realize that doing a handstand press seemed so far away from me that I never really tried it around the people who could help, let alone ask them for help. Even though it was something I REALLY wanted to do. It was always a far off “some day” goal. And I guess I felt a little silly for wanting to try it. I got in my own way because I didn’t believe enough in myself. And because of that, I stayed on the edge of being able to do something I really wanted to do. For months.

But that’s ok. I know how to do it now. Now there’s just more practice and getting better. And being ok with where I am in life, even when I get in my own way, is simply another practice I am incorporating in my life.

So, lessons learned 1) the things we want are often closer than we think 2) even if we think it’s a ridiculous goal, ask others for help. For that matter, surround yourself with people willing to help, not those who say it can’t be done. 3) this goes with #2, but always tell people what you’re doing. Bring it into the light.

As I’m writing these down, I realize that I’ve heard them many times before. So it’s clear I needed a reminder. That’s ok, too. I’m good with reminders. I’m just gonna keep on practicing. Practicing my handstand, practicing my handstand press, practicing life. Because that’s what life really is, practice.

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Dream Come True

I started a new job this week…as a therapist. It all seems so crazy to me, but in a good way. I’ve told a few people the complete story of how I got to this point, but here’s some of it.

I am currently 42 years old and my journey to becoming a therapist started back when I was 15 and a Sophomore in high school. At that time I was hospitalized for major depression and spent three months in a locked ward. Thinking back, I really appreciate the support I received from my parents. Even though I didn’t realize it at the time, they really were there for me. They did their best to deal with a child they loved, who was highly suicidal. As a parent myself, I can’t even imagine what they must have gone through, what they thought, what they felt. It must have been scary as hell.

Along with my parents support, I was seeing a counselor. His name was Mike and I saw him from the time I was 15 until I was 18 or so. He accepted me for who I was, he challenged my ideas/beliefs without trying to “change” me. He is one of the major reasons why I am alive today. And because of his example, of how he influenced my life, I decided at the age of 16 that I also wanted to become a counselor. To be able to give back a little, follow in his footsteps and maybe, just maybe, help some other kids who are going through a tough time in life.

Flash forward 27 years. It’s been a long journey, but I’m here, I’m standing in my office (I have an office!). It’s almost shocking. And it seems so fragile. Like it’s gong to be taken away at any minute. I realize that I’ve been waiting for the past year or so for things to fall through. For the world to go, “Haha, that’s gonna to happen.” It started with graduating with my Masters degree. I really didn’t think I’d make it through that final year. Working full-time, school part-time, doing my practicum (another 10-15 hours per week), trying to write my Senior Paper (thesis), going through a divorce, being separated from my son, trying to get another relationship going (which was a both a source of great support and stress). It all seemed too much. But I went ahead anyway and held my breath until I was holding my diploma in my hand. I did it!

Then came the job search. Eight months of searching and only one call back. That was rough. But I firmly believe that things happen when they are supposed to, how they are supposed to. Not that we don’t have to do the work, but I simply believe that the world conspires to work for us, if we let it. I’ve just seen too many times how things end up working out, if not how we wanted them to, then the best way they could have. This belief gives me peace of mind when I might otherwise freak out. In any number of ways.

So, as I stand in my office I realize that I was self-sabatoging a little over the past couple weeks. I emailed several forms back to HR that ended up being blank (I swear they weren’t when I sent them…stupid ‘save’ button). I also somehow missed that I needed to get a background check before I started. Minor detail…

Fortunately, my employer has been great with these things. But it did get me thinking. I hear people talk about how it’s too late to pursue their dream. I don’t believe that. I think it’s exactly the right time, when you decide to do it. Maybe it won’t look precisely like you imagined it, but when you’re ready, it will unfold how it’s supposed to. And if you’re not ready, that’s ok, too. You’re right where you’re supposed to be, even if it’s an uncomfortable place. My guess is that there’s probably a lesson you need to learn before you move on. And just a side note, even if that lesson involves another person in some way, it’s not about them. At all. It’s all about what’s going on inside of you.

So now what do I do about my little self-sabatoge??? Well, at least now I’m aware of it, that’s always the first step. For a while I’ll need to be more aware of what I’m doing to make sure I have all the i’s dotted and t’s crossed. And remember not to be complacent in what I do. For me, that’s when I get lazy. And, boy, can I get lazy.

I guess my question for you is, “Do you have a dream and are you following it?” If not, that’s ok, but are you at least doing something that you love? It doesn’t matter what it is, work, family, yoga, baking, being a parent, a lover, an artist, musician, athlete, or even taking time to knit or read a good book. Just pick something you love and do it. Whether or not you’re doing something you love (but especially if you’re not), remember to be kind to yourself. I don’t think many people have ever beat themselves into doing something. Instead, I believe these things come from loving ourselves. Learn to be kind to yourself, let yourself make mistakes, take care of yourself, be a little selfish (or self-ful, as the case may be). And when you’ve learned to love yourself (and do what you love), go share that love with others.

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Coming Home to Winter

This weekend, for the first time since I moved back after spending 11 years in San Diego, Chicago felt like home. Put simply, it was really nice. A big part of this feeling came from attending a Winter Ball. I attended a ball. Sounds strange to me to say those words, but that’s what I did.

There was no particular dress code for the ball, other than to wear white and express yourself. A small problem was that I have no white clothes. It’s a color I just don’t wear. Sooo, I had a little shopping to do. Fortunately, my date for the night was willing to help me out with my clothing selection. I had an idea for a shirt to wear, and she ok’d that part, but it was really the pants she suggested that got me out of my comfort zone. I don’t generally wear anything quite that tight. Or striped.

At this point I do feel that I should explain a little about my current journey in life. Particularly with clothes. I’ve always gone for comfort, which means jeans and a t-shirt. So much so, that my ex called it my “uniform.” I was ok with that, I didn’t stand out and I didn’t need to think too much about what I wore. Also, I didn’t care too much for society’s “expected dress code.” I’ve always thought that dressing up and looking “good” was confining and boring. My journey from that idea to the idea of being able to wear clothes that express who I am, while still looking professional, started back in San Diego. While my clothing selection may not have been “professional” on Saturday night, it certainly was a step in the right direction for self expression.

So I got ready and met my date at her place. She was happy to see that I was already dressed in the clothes that she had helped pick out earlier in the day. In particular, she expressed her appreciation for the tight pants (who knew??). As I waited for her to finish getting ready, I enjoyed a fine bourbon barreled ale and got some ideas from one of her roommates for touch ups to what I was wearing.

My date finished getting ready and came out, her white skirt and top was a beautiful contrast against her skin and dark hair. Her silver necklace glimmered in the light, but it was her smile that lit up the room.

We decided to call an Uber, since we knew we would be having a few drinks and it was snowing so heavily. Arm-in-arm we stood outside, waiting for the car to pick us up. I was wearing a black coat over my white clothes, while she was dressed all in white, from her head to her feet. The snow was collecting in our hair as she smiled up at me, and that was the moment I finally felt at home. That Chicago was once again my home.

We arrived at the ball, and walked inside. The space was beautifully decorated…in white, of course. There was also soft, colored lighting throughout the place. The people were amazing to look at, as well. Seeing everyone dressed in white was so cool. Everywhere you looked there were white skirts, pants, shirts, tops, hats and more. And even though I was a little uncomfortable in my tight, striped, pants, it was definitely the right call to wear them. I’ll admit, it helped that I received a random compliment on them within five minutes of arriving.

The ball was a bit of a whirlwind, but here are some of the highlights. I already mentioned the people, and my date knew many of them. I didn’t move more than a few feet at a time without meeting someone new. Everyone was great, and I always enjoy meeting great people.

To add to that, the music was incredible and so much fun to dance to. One of the DJ’s even sang live over the music, and her voice was beautiful. It was especially fun to watch my date dance, as she moves through space so gracefully. The performances were great, with fire-spinning and aerial silks being just two of the performances. I also tried absinthe for the first time, which was good, but I’m still not sure about. The whiskey bar, on the other hand, was awesome. I got to try an amazing, smoky scotch that really blew me away. I’ll admit to finishing it after my date had just a sip or two, but she’s so tiny, and I didn’t want to force alcohol on her. So, really, I was just thinking about her as I enjoyed that yumminess myself.

Unfortunately, we showed up after dinner was over, so I can’t comment on the food. However, the peanut M&M’s we snagged late at night were divine. They were truly the best M&M’s I’ve ever eaten.

Although we left the ball late (or early, depending on your point of view), there were still plenty of people ready to talk and dance the rest of the night away. We got into the car to leave, and on the way home we spoke about the night and how much fun we had. The snow was coming down hard, and would continue to do so for a while, but even still, I realized it’s great to be back home in Chicago.

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Rage, Pain, and Sadness….Or, A Touch of Grey

Today, I signed the documents that will finalize my divorce and custody agreement for my son. It’s been a rough few months, and I realize now what’s been bothering me all this time. Why I’ve retreated a little from life…why I haven’t blogged in so long…or written anything…at all. It’s been tough to get out of bed, pay my bills, keep in touch with friends, maintain a healthy eating schedule. Pretty much anything that I “should” be doing. And then it all comes crashing down at once what is bothering me.

I’m a processor. It’s how I deal with life. Sometimes it’s fairly slow, as it was this time, and sometimes it’s, well, less slow. Oh, well. It’s who I’m am. I usually figure out what’s bothering me within two days. I’m ok with that. Or at least I’ve come to accept that is how I work.

So I signed the paperwork and talked with my lawyer for a bit. He kept assuring me about what I was signing and said things like, “this is really the best deal you could have hoped for,” and “this agreement will protect your rights as a father.” It all sounds good, even though I have some misgivings, but I’m really just glad to have everything over. As I walk out of his office, I really want to have a beer. I don’t want to get drunk, I generally don’t feel that urge anymore, but just one beer to take the edge off. The problem is that it’s 10 AM and any place I’d want to go is closed. I’m also not going to go home and drink, and I’m too impatient to sit around and wait for some place to open up. See, I’ve become very aware of when, and why, I drink. Sometime I get these urges to go against what I think is right, but I also think the universe conspires to help us, if we pay attention. I did. Instead of going and having a beer I decided to go home and meditate, to simply feel what I’m feeling. Feelings aren’t good or bad, they just are, and I want to be in touch with mine as much as possible. I think that’s one way to truly enjoy life and not hide from it.

I start driving home and get about a mile into the 40 minute drive when I have a moment of catharsis. Ok, I started sobbing uncontrollably. And it’s possible it lasted for more than a moment. My lawyer’s words repeat in my head again and again, “best deal” in particular. Best deal? Are you fucking kidding me? On the one hand, I do believe him. I heard the same thing from him, another source, and a mediator. And it tells me how fucked up Illinois is for father’s rights. Best deal? What the fuck? Fuck you! Right now, I have my son every other weekend and then from 6-8 PM one night a week. My lawyer and the mediator both assure me that’s how Illinois does it. But “best deal.” Fuck. 

I do the math. I don’t know why, but I do. If I have my son every other weekend that means I see him for 26 of the 52 weeks, or for a total of 52 days a year. Out of 365. Best deal. Fuck you. Oh wait, I forgot about the mid-week times I have him. Add two hours times 52 weeks, the that’s 104 additional hours, or another 4.33 days…

I fucking hate this state, I hate it’s law makers, I hate that I’m here, I hate the fucking winter cold. I hate that I’ve spent 8 months here, sent out hundreds of resumes, and only had one interview. Now, I want to go get drunk. I want to go fuck my brains out, I want to beat the shit out of someone. Something, anything, not to have to feel this fucking crap. I fucking hate everyone and I fucking hate everything. And right now I especially, especially, hate the fact that somewhere, deep inside me, there is a small, rational part that sees the lesson in all of this. I don’t want to be rational. I want to rage. I want to fuck shit up.

But my drive home isn’t over yet. That small part of me gets louder. The fact that music is playing on the radio starts to register. A Touch of Grey by the Grateful Dead comes on. Music has often soothed my soul, and it does so now. I know that life isn’t bad or good. How much time I have with my son isn’t bad or good. I can be a good father to him with what little time I have. It’s the quality moments that really matter. And right now I see him more than when I lived in California and he was in Illinois. I need to keep things in perspective, because, really, there are a couple ways this can go.

I can keep this anger and resentment, I can hold it tight. In the end, though, who really gets hurt? I’ve heard it said that holding resentment is like taking poison yourself, hoping someone else dies. So, in this scenario, the only people I’m hurting is myself, and then my son. That’s not ok with me. Another option is to accept that this is how it is, for now. It won’t always be like this. My son will grow up, situations will change. He’ll be able to make his own choices. And from what I hear, it will happen fast. Crap, it feels like he was born just the other day. Right now my job is to be the best father to him I can be, to keep myself sane and healthy, to keep him safe, and to be there for him when he needs me. And he will need me.

The song ends. My tears have, mostly, stopped. I don’t like the situation, but I can accept it…and look for ways that I can change it in the future. The key is acceptance. By accepting it, I don’t rage against it. I don’t hold on to it and get depressed, or want to drink or engage in any other myriad of distractions that humans can use to “help” us get through. To me, it’s just one more step to being fully present. And that’s how I choose to live my life.

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Adjust me…Please – A Letter to Yoga Teachers

Over the past 10+ years, I’ve taken a lot of yoga classes from many different teachers, and I’ve noticed teachers have different styles of adjustments.

Some won’t adjust you at all and just cue verbally, while others get a little too handsy. Some have firm, direct adjustments, while others give a light touch to the area they see needs to be corrected. I also know there are reasons both for and against physical adjustments; but, as the title suggests, I am in favor of being adjusted.

Here’s why:

In general, we live in a touch deprived world. This is especially true during a time when face-to-face communication is decreasing and more interaction is virtual. I’m not knocking virtual communication, I think it’s great and use it all the time. But I do think it can diminish physical interaction, which in turn effects us. Aside from this, I also have some personal reasons for wanting to be adjusted in yoga, which I’ll share because I don’t think I’m the only one.

Without going into detail, let’s just say that I carry some “emotional wounds” from my childhood and adolescence. These wounds have created within me a dichotomy where a part of me craves human contact. I love to be touched. I love to hug, get (and give) shoulder rubs and just in general be close to people. It’s one of the ways I feel loved and cared about. And I do want to take a moment to be clear, I’m not talking about sexual touch.

The dichotomy exists in the fact that I am also terrified of being touched. There was a time in my life where the last thing I wanted was for someone to touch me. It didn’t really matter who it was. Whenever I would meet someone who was overly touchy, my first thought was always, “What do you want from me?” This was usually followed by, “Leave me the fuck alone and quit fucking touching me.” This from someone who craves human touch. Like I said, I’ve got wounds.

These wounds of mine have gotten better over time. I’ve done a lot of work with a therapist, but I also realized that yoga was helping me. Specifically the adjustments. I found that receiving a non-sexual touch from someone who wants nothing more than to help me is very freeing. For me, it was the acceptance of that touch, which I didn’t always do.

There was a time that teachers would adjust me and I would scream in my head, “Get your fucking hands off me!” The memory of where I was mentally at that time actually brings tears to my eyes right now. But it’s a good thing. It’s good because I can recognize where I was then and where I’m at now.

Ask Permission to Touch Your Students

And that brings me to a point I want to make to you teachers. Ask permission to touch your students! I can’t emphasize that enough. I can almost guarantee that you have at least one student that doesn’t like to be touched. For that matter, personally introduce yourself to any students you don’t know. In my opinion it’s the right thing to do. It sets the tone of the instructor/student relationship and helps new students feel welcome and more at ease. This helps create a safe space for the student. You can then take that opportunity to ask if they are willing to be adjusted. Make adjustments an offer. Something they can refuse if they are not comfortable, for whatever reason.

Be Aware

Also be aware of what types of adjustments you give and to whom. Some adjustments can put your hands in pretty intimate places (you know which ones I’m talking about), and some can just feel more intimate than others. I remember the first time a teacher adjusted my Down Dog by laying on me, her front to my back. It was the first time I’d taken her class and I’d never had this done to me before. I’d never even seen it before. Now, I think it was a great adjustment. Both for the pose and at that point, I’d done enough healing that I wasn’t going to complain when an attractive woman pressed herself against me. So I’ll admit it, I enjoyed it. But it did throw me off mentally. And after it ended I spent the next few minutes of class looking around thinking, “What the hell was that? Is she adjusting other people like that? She adjusted that guy differently, what does it mean?”

In the end, save the more intimate adjustments for the students that you have known longer. Even then, communicate with them to make sure they are OK with what you are going to do.

I also ask that you try not to forget your students that are more advanced and have been around. I know I’ve been doing yoga for a while, that I’m good at listening to cues and self-adjusting; but, I’m not perfect. And, oh boy, can I be lazy.

I realized about a year ago that my hands are a little too far apart during Down Dog. Quite frankly, I was just too stubborn to change it myself. It seemed like too much work (did I mention I can be lazy?). And until recently, not one teacher that I’ve had has noticed, or if they did they never pointed it out. The fact is, I know I need someone to guide me at times, to notice when I’m not doing my best. Like a simple touch on my knee to remind me to keep that micro bend. This brings my awareness to an area that needs correction, helps me grow and makes me a better yogi.

I believe yoga has a great many healing benefits. Over time, I realized the gentle touch I received during yoga was one of the things that kept me coming back time after time. Allowing myself to receive a caring touch, from someone who clearly wanted nothing more from me, helped me along in the healing of my emotional wounds. As stated earlier, I know there are arguments for and against physical adjustments. But I believe that as long as you know how to safely adjust someone, explain what you are doing and why, and be respectful of the individual boundaries of your students, that your students will enjoy and benefit from being adjusted. And should you see me in class, feel free to adjust me.

– See more at: http://yoganonymous.com/adjust-please-letter-yoga-teachers/#sthash.Il266opl.dpuf

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Revel Life – 10 Steps to…What?

Lately, I’ve been seeing a lot of things about how to live your life in three easy steps and, to be honest, I’m getting sick of it. There’s no denying that at one time I thought lists were the greatest. All sorts of wisdom in one spot. Then I, too, could be rich if I followed these 10 easy steps. Or find my passion in five steps. Or find myself. Or get over someone.

This stuff is starting to bother me. Not because I intrinsically think they’re wrong, there’s some really good stuff there. But it bothers me because I feel they set people up to fail, or feel bad about themselves, if they don’t succeed in following the steps. Also, I don’t think life can be classified into easy steps. Life isn’t easy, and it isn’t neat. It’s messy, passionate…and beautiful.

First off, I’ve tried to follow steps before…three steps, five steps, 12 steps. You name it, I’ve tried it. I’ve searched for answers my entire life. I feel I’ve come close to so many things. I guess I’m a bit of a seeker that way. I’d try hard, so hard. And then, wait…what was step eight, again? Fuck. Gotta start over.

I suppose it’s not people’s fault for making lists. Many of us like to contain things, to classify them and put them in order. It gives us a sense of control and peace. But it’s an illusion. We don’t control anything, except ourselves, and many of us are so hindered by past hurts that we have trouble doing that. We react to life and flail wildly about trying to get things back under control again, back into order.

Maybe it’s me, or maybe it’s my life. As I write this, I’m going through a divorce, my son is 2000 miles away from me and has been for over two years since my ex and I separated. During those two years I worked full-time, finished my masters degree, met someone, fell in love, and then broke up because, well, some things can’t be overcome.

So, there is a lot of sadness in my life right now. And a lot of stress. So what are the five steps to fix it? What’s the easy, straight forward fix? I don’t think there is one, and that’s ok. Like I said, life is messy.

What keeps me going, what keeps me from killing myself, is beauty in the world, the love of my friends, yoga, meditation and some therapy. Almost sounds like

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Let It Go

I’ve been watching Disney’s Frozen a lot lately. Since I have a 5 year old, and it’s one of his favorite movies, it’s pretty much guaranteed that I’m going to see it again and again. And again. Don’t get me wrong, I love it as well, I’m just making the point that I’ve seen it enough times to really start thinking about it. And the therapist in me starts to process what’s going on…

The part that really started me thinking is a favorite scene of both my son and I. And I’m guessing, a favorite scene of many other people. The scene I’m referring to is where Elsa has just revealed her powers to everyone and retreated to the top of the mountain to be alone. It’s a huge turning point in the character’s life and I think the reason people like it so much is that most of us have either felt like that, or wished we could feel like that at one point or another in our lives.

Up to this point in her life Elsa has had a power in her that she feared. Understandably so, since she hurt her sister with it when they were kids. But this was compounded when her parents also began to fear her power, of what they saw inside her. How many of us have something inside that we feel we need to hide? How many of us fear our own capabilities? For good and bad? What is it inside of you that you are afraid to show others?

I think that Elsa’s parents really messed things up for her when she was young. They told her to “conceal, don’t feel,” and Elsa’s power was tied to her emotions. What her parents did was a fear reaction, a reaction that many parents, myself included, often take when dealing with their kids. I see it happen all the time, especially parents of little boys. You hear parents say to them, “Stop crying, this is nothing to be upset about,” or “Grow up, be a man.” There are a hundred different ways that parents teach their kids to fear or disregard their capabilities and emotions, but the general message is, “conceal, don’t feel.” What kids learn from this is to ignore what they feel or who they are inside. Unfortunately, these feelings don’t go away.

The reality is that whatever the child is feeling inside is important to them, even if the parents don’t understand or aren’t capable of helping their kids deal with it. Pushing feelings down or ignoring them creates a situation where the child never learns how to deal with their feelings. And if they don’t learn how to deal with them in a healthy way, these feelings will overflow and will likely come out in unhealthy ways. Maybe an uncontrollable temper. Or depression. Cutting. Sex addiction. Drug and alcohol abuse. You name it. If a child doesn’t learn how to deal with their feelings when they are young, if they don’t learn to accept themselves as they are, they most likely will be ruled by them later in life.

This isn’t really anyone’s fault. Too few people are taught this, and I truly believe that most parents raise their kids in the best way they know how. But the lack of education can have terrible results. Look at Elsa. Since she never learned how to deal with her powers when she was younger, as she grew up and her powers grew stronger, she couldn’t control them at all. She ended up plunging her kingdom into eternal winter and almost killed her sister. Again.

Her powers came out into the open and she retreated to the mountain. There, after years of hiding the power that was growing inside of her, she could finally be herself. In a way she was lucky that her power was exposed that way. For those of us who have a tendency to hide what’s inside, it’s a choice whether or not to reveal ourselves. Like Elsa, we are afraid that we’ll be rejected by those closest to us. That we won’t be accepted, or loved, for who we really are. Perhaps that we will forever be alone because of it.

Here’s the kicker. Unless we are willing to reveal those deepest secrets to someone, we will be alone. People can’t accept us as we are unless we’re willing to take the risk and reveal ourselves. That, my friends, is what intimacy really is. To know someone and be known. You have to be willing to take the risk. Just make sure it’s with someone who is safe. Not being allowed to feel our feelings when we are kids, not being allowed to learn how to accept ourselves as we are, is a form of victimization. To reveal yourself to someone who isn’t a safe person, someone that doesn’t treat you and your feelings with love and respect, is to open yourself to another victimization. But I can guarantee that there are people out there who want to get to know who you are. All of you. You just need to find them and take the leap, slowly. Conundrum, huh?

Something that Elsa didn’t see at first is that we can’t do this alone. She retreated to the mountain top to be free, and in a way she was. She was finally able to fully express herself, to be who she was meant to be. And Elsa loved it! This is something so many of us yearn to do. God, having the space to fully express who you know you are, without worrying about what other people think or will say. That’s an incredible feeling and there is freedom in that. But what happened to Elsa is that she traded the prison created for her by her parents, of “conceal, don’t feel,” for one of her own making. One where she was alone, at the top of her mountain, guarded by her giant snowman.

Even though she was “free,” she was still ruled by fear. She hid in her own way instead of the one decided for her by her parents. But don’t many of us do this with our feelings, with who we are? We retreat from others, we hide and we have our defenses that we won’t let people through. We pick and choose who we will let in to talk to us. It is important to be choosy, but look at why you do it. Many times it’s simply out of fear, fear of not being accepted for who and what we are. See, even though Elsa was “free,” she still didn’t believe that anyone would love her for who she was, and she feared the power within her. I’ve retreated in my own life. Sometimes mentally or emotionally. Sometimes physically, as Elsa did.

For most of us, this doesn’t work. First, it’s hard to be a hermit in today’s society. We have jobs and families that require our attention. Most of us need to interact with other people, in one way or another, in order to survive. Retreating just isn’t a possibility. Second, there’s a difference between being alone and isolating yourself. Elsa isolated herself. It was a way of dealing with her power, but it was fear driven. In contrast, when someone choses to be alone it can be a time of healing and growth. As someone who tends to be more introverted, I have come to realize that I need to make time to be alone. It’s simple self care and I am better able to be fully with others when I make time to do this.

Another reason is that I believe there are many things in life that are harder to learn if we are not in a relationship with someone, whether that’s family, friendship or a romantic relationship. For instance, it’s hard know what a healthy response is when someone you love is upset with you. It can be to control your feelings when you are confronted with that situation, especially for the first time. Look at Elsa again. What sparked everything off was what happened at the coronation party. Her sister was upset, demanded a response from Elsa and she couldn’t deal with it. It wasn’t until she was forced back to society that she found out her sister still loved her, and loved her enough to sacrifice herself for Elsa. An act of true love. All this despite Elsa’s fear of rejection. This acceptance by others helps Elsa to finally, fully, accept herself. This happened quickly for Elsa. For most of us, like myself, this process of self acceptance takes a lot longer.

Now a little about me and a way that I’m currently working on accepting myself for who I am, and that is in dating. I’m fairly introverted, and I’m also a little shy (these are different). Growing up I didn’t appreciate either of these qualities. I thought that I’d be so much better off if I were extroverted, if I were more bold. All that’s changing, slowly, as I begin to accept and appreciate myself for the person I am. So why do I mention dating?  Because right now when I do date, I have my own version of a mountain top with a guardian snowman, online dating (I’ll write more on that in another blog). But online dating is a way that I use to hide. It allows me to overcome the initial shyness and to ask someone out. And here’s an irony for you. Right now I’m sitting in a Starbucks writing this blog. I just looked up at the line and noticed that an attractive woman was checking me out. What do I do? I quickly look away. LOL. Oh well. Maybe next time.

So, for now, I’ll keep my guardian in place and date online. And I’ll work on accepting myself and who I am in this area, and simply be willing to come out of self imposed isolation. Translation, be aware the next time I’d like to ask someone out and decide whether or not I’m comfortable enough to do it. Starting off the answer will probably be “no”. But, as I become more aware of where I’m at and quit warring with myself for not being someone/something I’m not, then it becomes increasingly likely that the answer will be “yes”. Through this I can find my own way of asking someone out that works for me, a way that honors the man I am. In this way I “let go” of some of the baggage I carry in my life.

I will say that I have actually asked out one woman face-to-face. Yup, one lol. I found her to be beautiful and fascinating, and I wanted to know more. I was scared as hell, but I asked if she wanted to grab a beer sometime. Expecting a “no” I almost didn’t wait to hear her answer. As I moved towards the door, I was shocked when she said “yes.” So shocked that I pretty much just said, “Great, we’ll do that. Enjoy your night,” and walked out the door. To this day she’s really the only woman I’ve asked out face-to-face. That was about a year ago. Baby steps.

And so the question to you is, what messages do you carry from your childhood that no longer serve you? Is it something emotional? Or perhaps some part of your personality that you don’t like? Is there a part of what makes you “you” that you’re afraid to share? Sometimes you just need to take a breath and…let it go.