I am just a joiner I guess. I need to have a group to inspire me or some kind of location to go to. Just like I wrote yesterday about the kind of computer or environment I need for writing, I need a similar vibe for my yoga.
OK, call it avoidance, but if that were it, I’d never get myself out anywhere to write or practice. Isn’t it possible to be sensitive to your location? Really, when people say that money doesn’t buy happiness, I can only think that my hypothetical misery would ease if I were on the Riviera rather than skid row. I’m just sayin’ . . .
So, now that I have the wonderful new mat, I want to put it down in a space that “feels” open and relaxing–and that place is most often NOT my home. I love my home, and it is filled with wonderful pieces from many great artists we’ve known. My son’s art projects are incredibly beautiful to me. BUT I’ve very little floor space. Where I feel embraced and cozy when relaxing, I feel enclosed and restricted when trying to let the energy of the day direct me and my practice.
When I think about it, my weaving self is the same way. Only in this case, I learned to weave on looms in small spaces (small brownstone in Baltimore, small apartment in a booth at a Renaissance festival, a tiny space in my parents’ town house that barely fit the loom and my equipment). When I was able to put my loom in a larger space, I felt as if I were afloat in this vast openness and could not create. Even now, I have a large studio space for my weaving and felting, but I keep the smaller loom in the corner and my felting space is also tucked away.
So far, then, as I review this public therapy session, I think I’ll just get off of my own case and accept that environment is very much a key to how I practice, write, weave, felt, think . . .
Own it, right?
Today, my yoga instructor, Allison, worked on guiding us in envisioning and feeling the true expansiveness of breath we can achieve if we let go of tension and acknowledge how much our upper bodies come into play to create a true flow of air and expansion. This reminded me of a book someone once gave me called The Science of Breath. As I understand, it is in our abdomens that our breath should begin to “fill” our bodies. Our lungs may be the key organs for this process, but it is in our whole torso, front and back, that we maximize their function. We need to feel our bellies and our backs fill. We need to let our ribs expand. So we need to be mindful of how we feel physically so we can remain open to how we think and act. I couldn’t help then thinking about why it is so many of us restrict our breathing and how we limit other capacities—and why.
Allison’s efforts at having us imagine the area behind our rib cages as caves, as her own instructor has taught her, encouraged us to fill this area and almost touch our back bodies with our abdomens. Not closing off so much as opening fully and then gently contracting and pushing the air up and up through more regions and, thus, nourishing more of our selves. For those of us not regularly in practice of this and and more often stressed enough to hold our breath or breathe more shallowly, it was almost hard to create this openness. We didn’t know where to “put” all of the air or how to let if flow. Our chests almost felt constricted rather than open, but this can be rectified once we reconfigure our bodies to enable the air to flow where is should and needs to rather than where we have allowed it. It’s kind of like getting unused muscles in shape. It’s not comfortable at first, but when done properly, it’s liberating and enlivening.
This all of course brought me to think about the layers of fat so many Americans pad themselves with and wonder if this padding is a way to insulate us from having to feel the discomfort of reconfiguring our bodies and our minds. It takes work and is sometimes uncomfortable at first. It takes patience. In a culture of here-and-now immediacy, opening up more than our mouths to new experiences and feeling our bodies as they are–in the processes we find ourselves in the movement–is scary. It seems to be more appealing to become numb and to create distance from our awareness. So, the padding of fat is a distance between the openness of our caves/ribs, and the space we can create in our bodies. This space must be terrifying and we try to fill it any way possible. So, we eat and get full, stay full, and breathe more shallowly so nothing else can get in and disturb us.
But how am I going to tie these thoughts and observations in to the writing life? Well, I can find connections in many things that at first may not seem logically aligned. I’m a writer and relatively good researcher who uses her analytical mind to find connections that are viable. Meaning that you don’t need pure faith to believe or consider my perspective. You of course don’t need to agree with me. So, how do you “pad” your pages? Do you have language equivalents of body fat because the silence or blank spaces are too uncomfortable? Do you feel that your worth as a writer is only as weighty as the mass on the screen? We are encouraged to write and write and write in order to prevent “blocks” or losing our good habits. But noise is noise; words are words. Does mass equal accomplishment? Sit with the emptiness and discover where the expansion or contractions really fit. Are you embracing the full potential of your characters or story or are you just concerned with page count? The fullness comes from effort that is not always a smooth process. With your practice comes the sudden eureka or enlightenment that tells you the approach was just right and all the padding you had added was just a block or burden. As I always tell my students and writing group: Working hard is not the same as working right. Knowing what is right takes practice and mindfulness and only then can you feel as if it is all flowing in the right direction. Feel comfortable with the expansiveness in your body, your mind, and then your page.
Many bloggers find themselves falling short of time to write, and I have been quite remiss in posting for some time. All for good reasons of course. Busy work schedule–and that is something to say for a freelancer at the beginning of the summer! Quality time with the family is another important priority. But, also, I need to feel inspired to write. There is just no reason to ask for your attention and time if I’ve only posted to maintain a presence in general. You stop to read my posts because you’ve found something you enjoy or look forward to. I won’t mess with that and would rather hope that I don’t disappoint when I appear.
Honestly, you know what has taken away from my creativity? A lack of yoga. While we all can and should practice our yoga anywhere and anytime we can, I am very much a creature of community and do also need a spiritual conversation or exchange with like-minded people as often as possible. My absences from my yoga class have caused a disruption in my creative flow.
I did receive some spiritual nourishment last weekend when I spent time in the Catskills with my family. I’ve been part of that world, or it has been part of me, since I was born. It’s my second home, my only long-term/permanent address before we landed in our current home. That refreshing return to the known, the dependable, was rejuvenating.
From the moment I roll down my window to smell the wild grasses and flowers and hear the sounds of the creek flowing full after the rains to the time I unlock the door of the cabin and see the stone fireplace waiting for the evening flames, I feel like myself again. I know what is expected of me and the tasks involved with settling in are never resented like those of the usual world of work and housework. Even the relentless encroachment of nature that includes mice inside and porcupines chewing the outside walls is more embraceable than dusting and vacuuming at home.
This is much, to me, like taking a yoga class with my favorite instructor Allison Levine and the people I’ve come to know over the years instead of fighting for space at home. I may be able to practice at home, but do I embrace the poses the same way? Am I able to remain mindful? Honestly, no. I need to roll my mental window down and breathe in a different kind of air. One filled with the comforting voices of people I care about, music that inspires happiness even in my least favorite pose (side plank), or that does not immediately deliver the scents of obligation like laundry detergent or cooking food (as nice as that may be).
So, quality wins. I make the time to write or practice as I can and in the location that encourages the kind of mindset that heals and energizes me. Write mindfully and practice authentically, even if that means not always getting in the volume you desire.
The Community Story group just saw the May deadline for the latest prompt arrive and there were some great contributions to work with. The online presence was not as strong as hoped, but we know this will grow with time. We realized that sometimes people are reluctant to step in on something as traditionally sacrosanct as someone else’s story – incomplete or otherwise. It may take time for the online community to realize that this is their story too. In the mean time, the local gathering here in Flemington brainstormed some incredible storylines and will be taking the next 2 weeks to compare and contrast the possible trajectory and resolution of the narrative.
I found myself out of my element last Friday as most everyone in the meeting leaned towards a kind of sci-fi or dystopian plotline. That is just not my forte. But that is the beauty of community writing. There is no one voice and there is no guarantee that you can stay in your comfort zone or allow yourself to stagnate. As these posts almost inevitably tie in to mindfulness and openness, you’ll not be surprised to read that once I accepted my feelings of insecurity and ineptitude in the face of a completely unexpected thematic focus and much more experienced writers of this kind of tale, a full page’s worth of text just flowed out of me in a matter of moments. What a thrill.
Another important gift that comes with openness and welcoming the muse or inspiration is that a kind of energy swells internally and warms you physically as well as emotionally. Breathing can become smoother and freer if you pay attention the flow of your thoughts and even crave challenges. All things become fluid. Your talents and skills can only wither in the vice that is avoidance and doubt.
It’s going to be a long two weeks waiting for our next gathering.
While I generally hate the energy it takes to sustain a confrontation, I’m not one to shrink from defending what is right. Common courtesy is right. Good business practices are right. Ethical choices are right. Acknowledging mistakes is right. What is not right is to make someone have to push you in any of these directions.
I’m very frustrated right now and not really living my yoga practice as I must pursue someone who insists on using one of my business names. I predate this person by many years but, due to lack of good research or blatant disregard, she is still using the name. I really don’t wish her ill. She seems to do good work and I’m not one to bully a creative entity; but, really, must she use something already owned? Are there no other names available out there?
Let’s say she just did not pay attention. OK, no problem. Just “cease and desist” as they say and everyone is happy. But this is not the case and I am just simply unhappy having to get big and loud. I’ll do it if I have to, but why? Really? Think about it. There is plenty of room out there for many new stories, many new songs, brands for businesses, titles . . . Is it really necessary to make someone have to, well, fight you for a place in the world?
There is nothing good about spending this kind of energy on negative and unnecessary problems. As writers, we need to respect our predecessors, embrace our contemporaries. As business people, we need to put it on ourselves to create our own niche, not invade someone else’s. If we find ourselves embroiled in this sad but common problem, try to embrace some kind of grace and dignity in it. Even do your best to avoid putting your counterpart in a bad position. Hold your ground yes, but lets not make it all muddy.
This is not the first time I’ve written about a yoga pose that has eluded or plain left me for a time. Yes, lack of practice of a particular pose or series of poses does account for the weakness, but it is frustrating to regress. I call it a loss because it’s not as simple as just practicing again. It is a mind set as well as a muscle memory that needs to return. It is about relearning and not only rediscovering how the pose felt, but also about discovering a new strength and finesse.
When I realized I could not simply move into my L-dog the other day, it was humbling to say the least. I had a group of much younger women around me simply stepping up and staying put—no shaking arms or anything! I was struggling like I’d never done it before. The ole legs just didn’t have it. Still, I found something to take from my practice that day: don’t neglect anything you’ve learned. Don’t assume it all stays with you. Age is only one factor. Ability is another. The more adept you are at something, the more you might get away with neglecting your practice, but, eventually, the staleness shows.
As I watched some of the Olympics on TV, I saw the same dilemma for some of the athletes. Some simple or routine moves did not work out. Some of the skiers had terrible times. Speed skaters didn’t start fast. The weather was an issue and still is, I know, but that is part of what I am talking about. Messed up schedules, unexpected obstacles, stress, they all contribute to the level of performance of even elite competitors. How is it not going to be a problem if we amateurs or lower-level competitors don’t keep up the work?
For the writers who read this blog, take heed. This is a reminder that your writing chops need to be honed no matter what. Time off, stress, doubt, fear, you name it. They can stifle your efforts. Or, simple complacency can hobble you. My L-dog was curbed by the expectation that it would always respond when beckoned. Wrong. Nothing, not writing, not yoga, not any sport or skill can stay sharp and graceful without attention.
Practice—stay fresh, stay strong.
Over the past months, I have noticed a connecting line of behavior between my friends, family, students, and colleagues. Some are intensely aware that their presence in the world has meaning and that their actions affect others. Some tend to look out for their own interests or act out of fear. How much we should let a person affect us and to what extent we should react is often debated, but you must admit that no one takes any action without there being a reaction. The action we choose often influences the reaction someone offers. We could argue endlessly about how much a person’s reaction to us is “their problem;” however, we should all agree that we must be confident in having done our best to plant the right seeds or be of assistance in remedying or preventing a problem. We all have a responsibility to each other to balance our goals alongside the impact of our actions. Proper communication is key. Timing of this communication is of the utmost importance.
This idea of responsibility to others is not only reserved for people in senior positions. Students should be aware of this as well. In your pursuit of education, especially a degree, there must be the understanding that you must learn rather than simply attend and get a grade—let yourself be taught. It seems to come as a surprise to some students that they have to meet certain standards to earn the grades to get the degree. Earning these are not so easy if the course is taught right. No, the course does not have to be torturous, but each step should need more effort. The “A” student in earlier courses may be a “B” or even a “C” student in the harder ones until the effort is put into learning these new skills. Ultimately, you must be the one you hold up to scrutiny first. More often than not, you’ll find that taking responsibility for your learning empowers you to take on many other tasks and challenges with confidence and self awareness.