Archives for May 2015

Breathe. Connect…. OR whatever…

It is so interesting/ Intriguing/frustrating to me how disconnected from my body I am at the moment. As a yoga instructor that sounds completely asinine, but the fact of the matter is, is that I just am. When I lay still and quiet where my body relaxes entirely, where I give permission for it and allow it to. I soak up the moments of stillness; I can relax every piece of me. But that is in my nature that is easy for me to do. It is the asana, the movement, the motion in which I am disconnected. I tell my body “I don’t want to do it.” Or “I can’t do it.” And It responds meeting all negative expectations I have given it. Perhaps that is a connectedness in a disconnected way. But instead of asking my body to do something, I simply force it.

Handstands. Something I want so badly, but it’s just not something I can fake or force. It isn’t a pose anyone can fake or force. It is a connection with oneself that allows for the handstand to happen. I have a million excuses and probably a lot of valid excuses as to why I cannot seem to make it happen. It’s all on my hands. My shoulders, my arms, my back, but mostly it is the ridiculousness of my psoas. I am reminded that I need to connect with my core to make it happen, but when my shoulders are supported, it isn’t my core that is my problem, it is my shoulders, my arms, my neck, my wrists.

Like any pose in yoga, like yoga in general, it is not a practice or workout which you can fake. It is over time in which one achieves a posture, a place of stillness, a place of steadiness and ease. These things don’t come easily. But taking the time to connect with oneself is key. Any pose. I want to hop in to an arm balance without warming up. OK! I can do that. (NO. I should not do that!) I have so many terrible habits, all of which do nothing but harm my body. “I want to look like that.” “why can’t my body do that?” It’s because my practice suffers and it is because my anatomy is just a little bit different than the next guy or girl. From that place comes acceptance. Why would I want to waste so much energy on the thoughts of being anyone else other than myself? That does absolutely zero for me, my body, my self esteem, my confidence. Feeding it negative thoughts day in and day out is going to stunt its growth.

Yoga is a mental, emotional, mind, body, and spiritual connection. And I am too busy wishing my body was something that it isn’t. My new goal is to work on loving my body, giving it grace and space to grow and be everything it is meant to be. Just like any child, growth is stunted without support and encouragement. I suppose this will be a constant work in progress, but as my trainer says “Be committed to consistency.” And that’s exactly what I shall do. Day 1.
Be the best you. I’ll be the best me.

A Book, a bkr, and a seashell

I have to be honest, my long drawn out spaces of silence have gotten pretty lengthy! I apologize. But at the same time, when I have nothing to share (or too much too share), I don’t want to force myself to share it. Ya ya ya, I don’t know the perfect etiquette for owning a blog, but I do know! That one of my favorite people, (who can write like a pro published author) looks at blogs as a white persons privilege. You know. We can do whatever we want, have whatever we want, acquire a following of who we want.

I on the other hand, just don’t care if you want to read my notes of goodness or not. I am just writing to write.

I spent a solid 2 hours today in therapy. Yea. That’s fun. I go really quite sporadically. My yoga therapist is amazing and she annoys me to no end (all in good). I’ve shared with my best friends, as well as my therapist (which I love the fact that I have a therapist and a blog, because now I have decided I want you to refer to me as Carrie from Sex in the City.) ANYWAY, I let them all know that I avoid her (said therapist), because it’s easier that way. Who REALLY wants to sit there and talk about all the shitty aspects of their personality and their life. That’s humiliating and self loathing.

I”ll tell you what though, one of my very best friends on the entire planet of Earth, just spent 3 weeks with me reminding me day, after day, after day, that there is no person more deserving of my own love, than me. So what do I do with that information? I decide to enroll in therapy.

OK that’s a slight exaggeration; I raised my hand and volunteered myself for therapy late last year. I didn’t realize how out of my comfort zone I would be shoved, but I was definitely shoved there.
After spending 2 hours of being shoved today, I left exhausted and sweating and ready for a nap because mentally, I was shot. We chanted, we used breath work, we talked about crap I don’t really want to talk about, she even made me hold plank. Within 5 minutes she told me, (And I quote this really loosely) “well. I’ve learned a lot here. One. You don’t know how to listen to yourself. It took exactly twice for you to surrender in that pose. You keep going. And even though you are allergic to dogs and your feet are itchy, you went ahead and dealt with it anyway when you could have taken a blanket or a yoga mat.” Well just to let you know. As a yoga instructor. This made me feel like a pretty … unfit, unaware teacher. She kept putting me in plank and I wanted to scream. I literally felt like I wanted to break down and cry. Sure I can do a 6+++ minute plank. But when you add the mental piece to a warm room and a freaking plank, I was ready for a straight up break down.

Sweaty with defeat, I rested my knees and cried uncle. She sat there looking at me with wonder. I was expecting a bootcamp instructor to tell me to get back down and give me 20, but instead she shared with me her observations. In turn I surrendered with a sigh of relief.

So I came home to a note from my best friend, a sea shell, a good book, my glass bkr bottle from the Spirit Bar, and a text from my therapist asking me kindly, “I’d like to see you more regularly if you can.” My reply was “I can, but I don’t want to.”

So here I am. Diving deep in to me. I like to pretend I’m perfect, because it’s easier that way. The reality is that I’m far from it and I’m OK with that. I’d just like my butt to be a little perkier and we’d have it all. HA! But, seriously though. I’m a work in progress, so if there are gaps of weeks or months between my blog posts, it’s because I’m not perfect. It’s because I don’t want to bore you with nonsense. It’s because I’m working on me.

I had a friend ask me what personal projects I was currently working on, I responded with “me. Just being the best me I can be.” He laughed, told me that wasn’t very specific, but he liked it. I can only control me. So that’s what I shall do. I can only give until I am empty, so I plan on keeping myself full, so I can fill those around me up without hesitation.

I love my people. I love my life. It’s time to be light and airy again, that’s where I like to be. Laugh people. Laugh!

And thank you for reading.

-Carrie Bradshaw