Mamas are Worrywarts

It's not going to come as a surprise to just about anyone at this point, so might as well announce on the blog that I'm pregnant! Four weeks away from my due date, to be exact! What has pregnancy taught me about myself? That I'm an anxious old nervous Nellie, ready to believe all the irrational thoughts floating around in my brain at the drop of a hat. Apparently though, I'm not alone. It seems that many mothers-to-be go through freak-outs (absolutely a clinical term!) at fairly regular intervals throughout their pregnancies. For the most part, I consider myself to be a fairly even-keeled individual who has done regular work on recognizing and dismissing the irrational thoughts that naturally filter through my consciousness on a daily basis. Though not easy, by any means, I've been relatively successful at eventually recognizing that these thoughts are ephemeral and easily changeable.

And then pregnancy came along. Granted, there are a heck of a lot more hormones floating through one's system when pregnant, therefore emotions tend to run a bit high. (I cried at anything and everything - books, commercials, songs on the radio, exhaustion, etc, etc. I'm certain my husband spent all of first trimester internally and sometimes externally rolling his eyes at my emotionality!) With all this in mind, I still was not mentally or emotionally prepared to handle the bouts of extreme anxiety I had every once in a while. First, it was a fear of miscarriage during those precarious first few months, then it was fear that I hadn't yet felt the baby kick, then concern that perhaps he was moving around too much, back to not feeling him move enough, wondering if his movements weren't normal but I had no way of determining that due to lack of experience (this is my first pregnancy), fear that the baby may have squirmed so much the cord had wrapped itself around his neck, etc, etc, etc!

Got the cartoon from this website: tinyurl.com/k5lotgl

Probably the worst bout of fear was one day when I was convinced something was wrong because I wasn't feeling him move. All this while I even acknowledged to myself that I was actually feeling him kick every once in a while. Despite this affirmation of movement, I still managed to convince myself that those were flukes and that every moment I was trying to talk myself down from the anxiety was a moment wasted that should have been spent calling my midwife and racing to the hospital! By the way, all of this was happening while I was at my baby shower hosted by my mother and sister-in-law. There I was, smiling, joking, and opening gifts while half my silently panicking brain was focused on feeling the baby move. I barely made it through the day, then got into bed and all of a sudden it was like the baby was practicing for a breakdance competition to be held the next day! And of course, I reminded myself that he generally moves more when I'm reclined and at rest. So with a shaky laugh and thoroughly deserved facepalm, I finally confessed my anxieties to my husband who of course told me I was being silly and totally illogical.

Thing is, I knew it all along but couldn't shake that absolute terror that comes with the "what if" clause. Two simple and unremarkable words that when put together can be incredibly powerful and can hold your brain hostage. One thing I've learned is that it absolutely helps to voice the irrational thoughts aloud, preferably to another person who can help bring you back into perspective. Once those irrational thoughts are committed to speech, all of a sudden the light of day can lay those words bare and give you the strength to recognize their irrationality and hopefully dismiss them (over and over again, since likely it won't be that easy to just put them aside all in one go!). As a therapist, I have to say, "DUH!" Obviously, I believe that even something as simple as voicing thoughts out loud can be enormously helpful, I mean, it's the basic premise of what I do for a living! But, of course, I have to relearn the lesson over and over again as it applies to my own life. (This is why therapists need their own therapists, we may strive for self-awareness, but sometimes or oftentimes, we don't have the necessary objectivity or perspective to find it.)

These days, I'm attempting to find a mantra of positivity about my pregnancy that I can meditate on each day to combat all these irrational fears that worm their way into my consciousness. Something that over time, I can grant enough power to stand up to my fears and anxieties. I'm also trying to remember to talk out my fears. To not let fear of my fears keep me from being open with my husband and support network. Irrational anxieties affect everyone, no matter how emotionally stable we consider ourselves to be. Take good care of yourselves!

A Lesson in Patience

"Remy" aka Napoleon

Look at that face, who wouldn't love that adorable, sweet little face attached to his cute, wiggly butt and fiercely wagging tail? This, friends, is my puppy Remy. He's a 15 week old Shepadoodle (German Shepherd/Poodle). He's got super soft hair, white little paws, and is always so happy and excited to see you! He's also got an eye for mischief - and lots of it! I read an article once about puppies that started, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." Let me tell you, that captures puppy ownership to a perfect T! On the one hand, there's that face, on the other hand, he's a potty machine. He licks your toes one moment and nips your ankles the next. He learns "sit" and "lay down" in two days flat while also chewing the baseboards. He wiggles his way (cutely) in between the glass panes of the coffee table and barks incessantly in his crate. He listens perfectly sometimes and totally ignores you at other times. It's enough to drive a puppy mom crazy!

Here's what I've learned about myself and what I have to keep reminding myself. One: I pity my future children, because I am beginning to recognize that I've inherited my mother's tendency to want, need, and expect perfection. Two: I have to stop focusing on the negative and remember to celebrate the positive. Why is it so easy to forget all the ways in which life is going well and focus instead on the little bits that are less great? Recently, I found myself frustrated and exhausted by all the ways that Remy was not conforming to my expectations of him as a member of the household fast enough. (Admittedly, this was a particularly sleep-deprived time in my life due to difficulties crate-training the little guy.) There were a few too many "accidents" in the house, I had bites and scratches on my arms from his overly-excited and completely normal for puppies nipping and playing, and I was at my wit's end to figure out how to get Remy to stop jumping on and biting at the furniture. I found myself questioning whether or not getting a puppy was a bad idea. It pains me even to have typed that sentence!

Unfortunately, focusing on the negative is a bit like eating Pringles - once you pop (or start), you can't stop! The moment things begin to feel negative in one area of your life, it completely colors your mood and everything begins to feel wrong. All of a sudden, you're drowning in your own little pool of negativity and each time you manage to surface, the current pulls you back in. The trick to getting out of this rut is to realize that the negativity is of your own creation and therefore, you have the capacity to redefine your outlook on life. Make a decision to appreciate all the ways that things are going well and celebrate those achievements. Then take a look at the stuff that's not quite right and realize that they don't have to detract from the positive stuff. Perhaps even realize that the negative might not be quite all that negative as they seemed at first glance. Generally, if you take a moment to turn your focus away from all the negativity, you'll surprise yourself with just how much is actually going well and hopefully be a bit happier because after all, who really wants to be dissatisfied, angry, and irritated all the time? Yeah, me neither.

(Only caveat to the above is if you're going through a bout of major depression - just making the decision to be positive and happy is clearly not going to cut it, if only it was that easy!)

PS In the week or so it's taken me to to write this post, Remy has succeeded in having a streak of about a week or so of no accidents in the house, has cut back considerably on the chewing of the baseboards, and is quiet as a mouse in his crate! There are still a couple of things, but honestly, he's a baby! I'm so proud of the little stinker!

In yoga and in life, "Never Say Never!"

Get ready for a long yoga post! Over the past several months I've gone through something of a yoga renewal and revolution. While I've practiced yoga for some years now, I was forced away from consistent practice for almost a year due to injury. It wasn't until this past fall that I started to feel comfortable with re-introducing yoga into my life little by little. It was a tough time, on the one hand, I was impatient to get back to where I had been a year before, on the other hand I was scared of re-injuring myself and putting myself out of yoga altogether. Slowly, but surely, I learned to trust my body and my own judgment and found myself not back to where I had been, but in fact growing mentally and physically.

I was introduced to the practice of Ashtanga yoga back in 2001 at a class with Christopher Hildebrandt at Jivamukti Yoga Studio in New York City. A coworker had been singing the praises of Ashtanga yoga for some time so I decided to give it a try. An hour and a half of sweat, shock, awe, pain, and exhilaration later I was hooked. (The next morning was probably the most painful morning of my life; muscles I didn't even know existed were on fire!) Some years later I became aware of a different, more traditional way of practicing Ashtanga yoga - Mysore style. So, a short primer on the Ashtanga yoga system. Unlike most other yoga styles, Ashtanga consists of an opening series, standing and sitting poses, backbends, and closing, all in the exact same order and same poses every single time. Practicing Ashtanga in the Mysore style means that you progress through the series until you have not yet mastered a pose, e.g. you don't move on until you successfully complete a pose. For a sometimes over-achiever like myself, this method of practice can be quite the bummer.  Imagine that you are learning your ABCs and are having a tough time pronouncing the letter "S". You know you can pronounce clearly almost all the letters after "S" but you're not allowed to move on until you can finally pronounce "S." It can be an incredibly frustrating experience especially when you're convinced that your particular body will never, and I mean never, be able to master the letter "S," or in my case, the pose called Marichyasana D. I practiced and practiced and started to resign myself that my practice would end at that posture for the rest of my life. Though I kept telling myself yoga is not about physical achievement, I had a tough time quieting my pride and actually found myself so discouraged I'd find excuses to not practice. When I did practice, I began to feel anxiety as I got closer to THE pose. And then I got injured. While it was nice not to be so anxious and disappointed about something that had once been a source of joy and equanimity, I felt bereft of a part of my identity.

The long hiatus filled with the fear that my injury might mean no yoga for the rest of my life, forced a bit of an evolution for me. My focus was less anxiety, anger, and irritation about a particular pose and more hope, fear, and joy in the possibility of yoga at all. Oftentimes in the beginning of classes, teachers ask students to designate an intention for their yoga practice. This can sometimes be a bit of a struggle for me. One side of me says I should dedicate my practice to a concept larger than myself (world peace, anyone?) while the other more mortal side of me immediately thinks of baser concepts like strength and flexibility. With yoga becoming more and more of a possibility for me as my elbow started to recuperate, it became easier to simply enjoy my practice as it was and find the intention for my practice as simply being present throughout each and every breath of each and every pose. And wouldn't you know it? There was one day when I was attempting Marichyasana D and all of a sudden, it became my own! I was so surprised and shocked that I literally yelped in the middle of class! Where before I had been 150% convinced that my body would never ever twist and turn into the pose, it all of a sudden felt almost easy. I almost wonder if perhaps all of my energetic striving had actually gotten in my way before where all I needed to do was relax and let whatever was going to happen, happen (or not).

I was inspired to write this post (or manifesto, given how long it's getting!) because of today's yoga practice. I've been stuck at a pose called Supta Kurmasana. My teacher today told me that I was just millimeters/days away from accomplishing it. I was so surprised by her words because I had fallen back into bad habits. I was again 150% convinced that my shoulders just don't bend the way they need to for the pose and I would need to resign myself to my yogic fate. Even now as I look ahead into the practice, I have my doubts. If only I can bang into my thick skull what yoga is trying to teach me! Namely,

1: Breathe and be wholly present in the practice.

2. Have patience. As Guruji, Sri K. Pattahbi Jois, the founder of Ashtanga yoga, said "Do your practice and all is coming."

Both of these lessons are certainly applicable to the rest of my life. How much happier might I be if I lived by these concepts! So, good luck dear readers in your pursuit of breath, presence, and patience.

In honor of Social Work Month

I know, I know, it's been a while. Well, I'm just going to accept it and move on. Sorry folks!

I was reading a first-hand account of a woman's bout with Acute Stress Disorder - just a hop, skip, and a jump away from full-blown Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. She stressed the connection between the mind and body throughout the article and ends with a couple of statements. They bring to mind for me the essence of Social Work, as held distinct from some of the other behavioral science fields. Social work puts a whole heck of a lot of emphasis on the concept that every person's experience has to be viewed from a Bio-Psycho-Social perspective. Meaning, when a client comes into my office complaining of depression, my training tells me to question the client and assess his or her physical, psychological, and environmental conditions all together to create a holistic picture of the client's issues.

Siri Hustvedt writes, "As a culture we are still caught in the mental/physical divide, prone to thinking of psychiatric illness as either "all in your head" or, conversely, as "chemical imbalances" or "organic brain diseases." None of these is a helpful or accurate description of any psychiatric condition. We cannot isolate the brain from life experience and the environment. They are inextricably entwined. What happens to us becomes part of us, body and mind."

Sometimes I ask clients where they feel a particular emotion in their body. For example, where might they feel anger or sadness in their body. Sometimes I get a quizzical look and sometimes I get an immediate answer. Generally speaking, you should feel it somewhere, but most times we're not in touch enough with the connection between our mind/body to notice what we may be feeling physically. Perhaps if we had the self-awareness to identify where we hold emotion in our bodies we could seek to purposefully and intentionally relax those particular parts of the body which might send a feedback loop back up to the brain to take a bit of chill in the emotions department. Not to mention what that might do to ease chronic back pain or chest tightness or GI issues in the long run.

Take a moment to check in with your mind and your body every once in a while and while you're at it celebrate any social workers you know among your friends, family, and colleagues! (I know, a total non-sequitur but I can't help it, I'm proud to be a social worker myself!)

Inviting the Positive AND the Negative In

Happy four days after Thanksgiving everyone! Hope you've all had a wonderfully resting and relaxing holiday filled with joy and turkey or tofurkey!

So, I seem to be on a poetry kick lately because I was listening to a lecture on mindfulness and psychotherapy the other day and was struck by this poem they included by Rumi.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes 
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows, 
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out 
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent 
as a guide from beyond.

~Rumi

It's quite a beautiful poem, no? And it can also be some really good advice. Our natural instinct is to run towards pleasure and happiness and run away from sorrow and pain. But what if I said that sometimes, if not alot of times, it's by embracing and confronting the negative that you can become more okay with it, less anxious, and decrease its impact on your life? We've all heard the phrase, "running away from your problems," and we all know that typically those problems tend to catch up with you if they were ever even gone for a moment to begin with. A lovely side product of embracing the negative as well as the positive is that over time the negative seems to diminish a bit, leaving you generally happier than you were when you were desperately clutching at happiness. It can be tough to do and feels a bit wacky to think of actually embracing or welcoming with open arms our trials and tribulations. Often we put so much energy into denying those things or pretending they aren't there, all the while living with the anxiety that they may rear their ugly heads tomorrow. How much of a relief might it be not to have to expend all that energy in fear and instead directing it towards dealing with our pain and suffering. Try it and see what might happen. Oh, and let me know how it works or doesn't work out for you!

Self-Absorption

It feels like I've been saying "get out of your own head" a lot these days.

Anxiety can be a pretty pervasive concern for a lot of folks. Many times, we can boil anxiety down to a constant litany of negative self-talk in our brains which dictates our behavior and our emotions. The daily "I'm not good at this, I'll never succeed at this, Why would someone think I'm good?, I'm going to fail, I'm not going to say the right thing, I screwed up, I'm too fat, I'm too skinny, I'm not smart enough, Why me?, etc, etc, etc. There's a lot of "I" and "Me" in those statements.

I'm reminded of a poem I once read by Thomas E. Brown:

If thou could'st empty all thyself of self
Like to a shell disinhabited,
Then might He find thee on the ocean shelf,
And say, 'This is not dead,'
And fill thee with Himself instead.

But thou art all replete with very thou
And hast such shrewd activity,
That when He comes, He says, 'This is enow,'
Unto itself - 'twere better let it be,
It is so small and full, there is no room for me.'

Now obviously, there is a strong religious intent to this poem, but if we were to take the religion out of it but keep a sense of the spirituality or interconnectedness with the world around us or even replace "He" with "Life," it can take on meaning for everyone.

If we could just empty ourselves of Self; get out of our own way, then might paths open up to us that were hitherto unseen? (Yes, all of a sudden I've developed a floweriness to my writing.) If we could get out of our own heads, who knows how much Life we could be living - in the present moment? It's those times when I've been least concerned with myself that I've felt like I'm most fully living. How often do you think you're truly living?

Dealing with a Loss

I was at the office yesterday meeting with clients when I received an email from a former coworker at the gym at which I teach yoga classes. It was entitled, "Sad News." Sad news indeed, I found out that one of my coworkers, a personal trainer at NW Sport and Health, had died yesterday in a freak accident while on his way to work. A tree branch had fallen, knocking him unconscious and caused such grave injuries that he passed yesterday morning. Ben was a wonderfully sweet and happy man, generous with his smiles and warm personality. Even when I first met him, he went out of his way to make me feel welcome and a part of the Sport and Health family. I'm so deeply saddened and shocked that such a good, kind, and young man was snuffed out so suddenly and so completely. Added to this, I also learned that his father had died just a month earlier and having been an only child, I can only imagine what his mother is going through now.

I prepared myself to teach class this morning, not knowing if/how class would be affected by the shocking news. As the students filed into the class, a somber mood permeated the room and we ended up having an impromptu chat session about thoughts and feelings. Many of the women, mothers themselves, found themselves weeping in support of Ben's mother. I related to the ladies that Ben himself had been in training to become a yoga teacher and had found joy and peace in the practice. We decided to dedicate our practice to his memory and closed the class with a quote: "Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some people stay for a while, leave footprints in our hearts, and we are never, ever the same."

The shocking and sudden nature of Ben's death reminds me of Steve Jobs' Stanford commencement speech back in 2005. It reminds me to live every day to the fullest. To experience, in the present, each day, moment by moment. I can't say it any better than he did, so I'll paste some passages from his speech here and encourage everyone to breathe and truly live.

Excerpts from Steve Jobs' Stanford commencement speech, 2005:

"When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something. 

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything, all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

{...}

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary."

Homework: Read this Article

Hey there folks, I seem to be on a blog posting roll this week. Probably because this course I'm taking is endlessly thought provoking!

So, I came across this article on Psychology Today and am very interested in responding to it and posing some questions and statements on the differences between Western and Eastern philosophies that makes acceptance of mindfulness so difficult for us at times. But before I do that, I thought I'd give you all a chance to read it so you'll know what the heck I'm talking about!

Happy reading! (Also, I have no idea at all why the lines of the article following are highlighted. My limited technical skills have been trumped on this one, my apologies if it's bothersome! Just head straight on over to the article, it's much more pleasant to read there!)

Pumpkins, Burning Leaves, and Apple Picking, oh my!

I fully recognize that my next statement may be quite polarizing and controversial.

Source: http://www.naturepicoftheday.com/archive/2008-11-05

I LOVE FALL; especially because it means the end of summer!!!!

Okay, go ahead, call me names, I can take it and I won't back down. For me, it's quite the toss-up of what I like better, fall or spring. The thing is I'm pretty sure I like winter a smidge more than summer too. (feel like I should have whispered that last sentence)

Anyway, beginning yesterday there was that particular nip in the air that heralds the coming of fall. Don't get me wrong, I love sand between my toes and diving into an ocean wave, but I hate mosquitoes, sweating, moving from air-conditioned box to air-conditioned box, feeling lazy because the heat has sucked the energy out of me, and not being able to run outdoors. (Some people still run outside in the dead of summer, God bless the crazy fools!)

Today I went to Starbuck's and got my first pumpkin spice latte of the season. I sipped all that yummy goodness while taking a stroll in my neighborhood park under blue skies and crisp sunshine. I had long sleeves on, jeans, and sandals. True and utter bliss. I took in the sounds of the kids playing, checked out what might be ripe in the community vegetable garden, felt the slight breeze on my skin; everything felt more colorful, more rich, even my coffee tasted better! Now that I'm thinking of it though, maybe this is also due to the fact that I've just started a "Mindfulness and Psychotherapy" course. In my experience as a therapist, I've learned to doubt that events are just coincidence. Most often, when something feels different within, especially if it seems out-of-the-blue, something else coincides with it, and that other thing ends up being the source of the change, whether positive or negative. The following is a scenario that happens more often than not during a session:

Ten Years Later

Yesterday morning, I settled into my seat on the Metro on my way to a meeting and opened up the day's Express newspaper. The issue delved into the effect that 9/11 has had on people ten years later. I hadn't thought too terribly much about 9/11 in recent years but as soon as I read only the caption of the picture I found tears pricking at my eyes. I paused to get myself together (I was on the metro after all), continued to read and got about three sentences in before I could feel a for-serious "ugly cry" welling up! First of all, I should say that I am not a crier. I used to wonder if I didn't have as much depth of emotion as others because of my general lack of tears. So, the fact that my emotions are still so close to the surface when I'm reminded of 9/11 is, in a way, surprising. Needless to say, I decided to tuck the paper back in my bag to be opened again in privacy later.

Phew! What a week...

Okay, this post doesn't really have much to do with therapy or wellness, but I'm feeling the urge to write and share, so apologies if I end up boring you! This past week has been one interesting roller coaster, right? It all started on Tuesday at around 1:50PM. I was at my kitchen table working on some invoices for my practice when all of a sudden I thought I'd been transported through space back to NYC right next to or on top of a subway line because the whole house started to shake and I could hear a slight roaring sound. Then I realized that no, I'm still in DC and the sound and the shaking are getting louder and worse, could this possibly be, gulp!, an earthquake?!

What's in a name? That which we call a "therapist"...

So a couple of months ago, a client shared with me that when she speaks of me to friends, she calls me her "special friend." (I was given permission by the client to share the following story.) One day, she was relating to a friend what she had learned about herself in a recent session and her friend responded, "I wish I had a special friend!" How awesome is that?! Hahaha!

Training Update

Don't want to leave you all hanging! Since my last blog post, the running has gotten back on track and today (drum roll please!), I ran 7 miles!

Annapolis Ten Mile Run 2010

Now it wasn't all sugar and spice and everything nice. My knees are hurting right now; evidence, I think, that I haven't been training perfectly consistently lately, but I'm okay with that because though my legs were nearing deadness, I think I could have run at least another mile. I'm running this race for the fun and fitness but also, for vindication. Why, you ask?

It's All Part of the Process

So I might have mentioned that I signed up to run the Army Ten Miler this October in Washington, DC. Training has been going fairly well for the past two months or so, I've been pretty diligent at following my workout schedule and have gotten to a peak of 5 mile runs. Let me take a moment to point out here that I am not a "runner." My body type doesn't scream runner, you know, long and lean, willowy yet strong. (Someone told me recently that he thinks I have the body type to be a really excellent weight lifter...this does not sit well with me, admittedly.) I'm not particularly fast, I'm more like the tortoise than the hare. I plod along at my comfortable 10:00 minute miles, putting one foot in front of the other, soldiering bravely through what is sometimes great and sometimes just plain awful. Today was the latter, boy, was it the latter.

I ended up taking a week off from running due to travel plans for a friend's wedding so today was my first day back since last Tuesday. I knew it was going to be a bad day. First, I can be a creature of habit so the fact that I was off for a week means bad news for my sense of motivation, meaning I had none, so it took Herculean strength to get me off the couch. Second, it's been a while so I had no idea what my legs, lungs, and stamina were going to be like. As I type this, I realize that I may have psyched myself out a bit. Running is such a mental game! Anyway, I got on the treadmill (on what feels like the hottest day of the year!), pressed the button for random so that I'd get a few hills on my way, and set off on my run with the goal of 5.5 miles. At mile one I'm thinking, hey, this isn't so bad! I'm not in pain and 10 minutes have already gone by! By mile 1.2 I started to rethink my newfound positive attitude as I started to feel hives develop on my legs. Hives you ask? Well, I've self-diagnosed myself as having an allergy to cool temperatures on my skin when my heart-rate is elevated. I have an exercise-induced cold allergy. Some people are so allergic to cold that they'll break out in hives when they touch ice to their skin. Fortunately, I'm not like that, plus, usually after a few weeks of exercise my body starts to acclimate and I no longer get so uncomfortable. But in the beginning stages it can be so terrible that I have to take antihistamines. Weird, I know. Anyway, now I have hives and the hills are starting to tax my quads, heart, and lungs. Did I mention the side stitch? Sigh. Anyway, I decided to throw in the towel at mile three. Double sigh.

I walked home pretty discouraged feeling like a bit of a failure, but as I cooled off in the blessed air conditioning in my apartment I reflected on the fact that I did manage to get up off the couch today, I will get my legs back under me, and that perhaps I'm missing part of the point of all this training. I've become so focused on the end-goal that I'm forgetting to appreciate the process. There's certainly no such thing as a steady rise to the top. Everyone has to hit road bumps along the way at some point, whether in exercise, career, or relationships. And sometimes it's the hiccups in the pattern that give the finished product its value and its unique quality. So here's to celebrating the victories, be they large or small, and viewing setbacks with perspective, compassion, humor, and a renewed sense of vigor.

Hey Mom! I wanna do some down dogs today!

I read an article in the Post today about children and yoga and it got me reflecting on the evolution of yoga in the United States. Yoga has gotten increasingly popular in Western societies over the past couple of decades. I remember the first yoga class I ever attended in the spring of 2000 in New York City, it was an incredible experience (which left me more sore than I've ever or ever will be in my lifetime!). In the class with me were all different kinds of men and women - dancers and gymnasts, body-builders with necks the size of my waist, unathletic enthusiasts with perhaps a bit more round the middle than usual, as well as some average Joes/Jills. Though the class was so diverse, it was still more likely than not that most of the people I knew had never set foot in a yoga studio. Fast forward to today where yoga has become almost cliche, it's so ubiquitous. Take a walk through Dupont Circle on a weekend and chances are you'll see a few men and women toting around yoga mats wearing Lululemon gear and drinking chai.

Yoga has also done quite a bit of branching out since 2000. Some of it, like the new trend of incorporating your dog into your yoga practice, has me raising an eyebrow in bemusement (if I could raise one eyebrow that is!). Others, like pre-and post-natal yoga and kid's yoga has me excited to introduce yoga to my future children! How exciting that kids can learn about the simple use of breathwork to calm and soothe oneself through the fun medium of kid's yoga classes. And let me tell you, kid's yoga is fun! Kids are encouraged to activate their imagination and use their bodies in creative and healthy ways developing, almost incidentally, a greater awareness of the connection between the mind and body. In a way, kid's yoga seems almost more akin to the heart of yoga than adult classes. In many adult classes, it's the pose that becomes the focus along with a sense of one's flexibility or physical strength rather than connecting on a more simple level with the sensations in one's own body.

Since kid's yoga is such a new concept in the West, I wonder if anyone has thought to do a longitudinal study on the effects of yoga at a young age during childhood through adulthood. I'd guess that kids with a regular practice in yoga or mindfulness meditation might have a stronger self-soothing capabilities and an increased ability to focus, but I'm biased. Sadly, as the budget steadily shrinks regarding things that relate to well-being, I'm guessing federal funding for a project like this is unlikely. Maybe Lululemon or Gaiam will take up the standard? Hmmm, that's a thought...!

I thought this was the best bit from the article from the Post entitled, "Raising a Generation of Children on Yoga:"

D.C. resident Stephanie Donne, 45, introduced both her sons to yoga as babies, but she was still amazed to hear from her 6-year-old’s schoolteacher that he’d been offering up yogic wisdom to classmates. “One day a kid was upset, and Eli said, ‘You can om. I’ll show you how,’ ” she says.

Ummm, how awesome is that?!?!

Spring Awakening

Just about three weeks ago, the steadily longer days and balmier temperatures inspired me to refill my window boxes with some lovely fresh herbs. It was a long, barren winter without something green around the house and I was excited to watch my babies grow. So, I went out and bought a few seedlings of rosemary, thyme, oregano, and basil. I planted them, watered, fertilized, and talked to them frequently and watched them grow and grow and grow! Here's a picture of them right after planting:

Not really sure why the thyme and oregano are pretty much just laying down, maybe wind or they're just tired? (hehe) Oh, and you can just barely see the rosemary peeking out from behind the basil. I'm thinking rosemary and garlic mashed potatoes, lots of fresh tomato sauces with plenty of basil and oregano, thyme-scented roasted chicken...yum! Using fresh ingredients that I've grown and cared for in my "garden" lends so much more flavor and romance to my cooking. So, the point of this post is because I couldn't help but show off my lovely herbs in all their glorious abundance even just three short weeks later! So, here they are!

By now, the basil has completely covered up the rosemary, so...

                  Here it is! Aren't they all so beautiful?!

Cultivating Patience, kind of

"Patience and fortitude conquer all things." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Tcha! What does Ralph know? Okay, maybe he might be right, at least some of the time, but the simplicity of his statement makes it seem like a no-brainer. I consider myself to be on the greater side of patience, I can sit with a six year old and teach him to tie his shoelaces over and over and over again with humor and calm. But there are some times when it feels like having patience is to be superhuman, a feat reserved for the likes of comic book heroes, of whom, I am most certainly not. I'm a go-getter, generally speaking I make goals and I take the steps to accomplish those goals. But it's the times when it feels I have almost no control over either the process or the outcome that I'm most desperately impatient. I know, I know, it's called letting go. Tcha, again!

So Ralph isn't my cup of tea in this, what about:

"Faith is not simply a patience that passively suffers until the storm is past. Rather, it is a spirit that bears things - with resignations, yes but, above all, with blazing, serene hope." - Corazon Aquino

I think I can kind of get with Corazon on this one. He acknowledges that patience can sometimes hurt but he counters that hurt with hope. Hope fuels the will to keep the faith despite any bumps or bruises along the way. But hope can feel pretty dim as well every once in a while. How do you rebuild your hope? For me, sometimes, it can be as simple as cooking a meal. This might sound weird, but I really like chopping stuff. So today, I made a hand-chopped basil pesto. You might think this is time consuming and arduous. You would be right. But there's something about the total sanity in chopping the garlic, basil, and pine-nuts that brings a sense of peace and calm to my soul. There's a realness to making a meal - putting the ingredients together, timing things just right, cleaning as I go, tasting for seasoning, and realizing a final beautiful and scrumptious product to nourish my body and my senses. And all of a sudden I realize the anxiety I was holding seemed to melt away in my focus on the task at hand. Maybe now I'm in a better place to be able to see some hope and grasp at it with hesitation at first and tenacity in the end. At least, until next time.

Cultivating patience seems to be a never-ending pursuit. As soon as you feel you've achieved it, life throws another curve-ball at you that pokes, prods, and tests it. Either you choose to give in and give up or you pick yourself up off the floor, dust yourself off, tell the worries to shush, and do your darnedest to re-capture that elusive hope. Good luck friends, I'm right there with you.

Defining Your Own Life

I was reading the Post this weekend and came across a letter awash with sadness, tears, and loneliness from a woman seeking advice from Carolyn Hax, the Post's relationship guru. In the letter, a self-reported stable and active woman tells a tale of woe in which she is almost asking Hax for permission to settle with a "just-okay" partner in order to alleviate feelings of loneliness that are wracking her very soul. The full letter and Carolyn's response can be found here.

I liked Hax's response to the letter. She writes, "You’ve evolved, your life has evolved, your desires have evolved, and your family has dissolved. Please don’t apologize to anyone — yourself least of all — for rewriting your definition of attractiveness to reflect a basic and duly recognized desire for steady companionship."  How true it is that we can allow ourselves to hate peas when we were young and develop a newfound love for them as an adult. But when it comes to what we look for in a partner, it's harder to give up the same criteria we used from when we were still dreaming about Prince Charming. But this is a somewhat loaded topic, there are plenty of people who have very polarizing views on the concept of "settling" and may have statements to make about lack of self-love, confidence, self-esteem, and insecurity, and many of those responses might be true for a horde of other people dealing with similar issues. The take-away message from this post is that it's okay to feel the way you feel, to be who you are, and to behave in the way that makes you most happy. You shouldn't have to apologize for valuing security over passion or vice versa. Accept your own definitions, your own meanings, for your life!

Self-Care

Oludeniz Beach, Turkey

Recently, I was feeling a bit sluggish at work. Responding to emails a little slower than normal, putting off filling out invoices, being a bit more haphazard with my accounts, etc. I started to notice the signs and symptoms of work exhaustion, known in its most severe form as the dreaded, "Burn-out." (Cue ominous dun-dun-duunnn music.) I wasn't quite at burn-out levels, I still enjoyed my job, still found joy and reward in my weekly sessions with clients but I didn't have that same level of vim and vigor for my practice that I had earlier in the year. All very self-aware of me to notice this, no? Well, I'll confess that it was somewhat brought to my attention when I was conducting a group clinical supervision session for a couple of graduate-level social work students. I was inquiring as to the students' level of burn-out and exploring what self-care strategies they had devised for themselves, if any. Which of course got the mental juices working and I slowly came to the realization that I, myself, have been neglecting that all-important concept of "self-care."

Self-care sounds just a bit too cheesy and jargon-y for me which is probably why it's not really in my normal vocabulary, but admittedly it gets right to the point. No matter what job you're in and no matter how much you love it, there will likely come a point when you find yourself to be inordinately tired, physically, mentally, and emotionally, by the mere thought of getting up in the morning and going to work. The red light blinking on your phone fills you with dread because you just know someone, or likely several someones, has left you a voicemail with tasks, requests, and possibly criticism.

Come Tomorrow

I'm guilty. I'm guilty of putting things off until the last minute. I've been this way my whole life. Procrastination, it feels like a weight bearing me down until I am almost crushed. But at the same time, I'm infused with a sense of responsibility and integrity. Procrastination and responsibility do not go hand in hand, in fact it's more like they are in constant conflict with one another. Why can it feel so impossible to begin, much less finish, a necessary task right now rather than tomorrow or the next day or the next until all of a sudden you're far behind and have to climb out of the hole you've dug for yourself? What would have been easy to do today becomes nigh impossible when you finally get around to it. It's not like I'm unintelligent, I'm fully aware of the argument for being timely with tasks I'm not so excited to accomplish. And yet, somehow I manage to convince myself time and time again that this time, it's not a big deal, I really can do the job tomorrow and be completely fine. I read a blog post today on Huffington Post written by Sadhguru, an Indian philosopher who founded the Isha Foundation which administers yoga centers around the world. He writes about the phenomenon of procrastination in a beautiful way that I never thought of before.