Tag Archives: yoga

Perfect Moment Monday: Good enough?

Tessa was quite nervous to start her new school year. She hadn’t slept well the night before because she’d wrestled with demons: Would her new grade be too hard? Would she be accepted?  Would she have what she needs? Would she do the right things, wear the right things, say the right things? And the most insidious demon of all — Am I good enough?

Tessa woke up with a stomach ache and an inability to focus on getting ready.  As I walked her and her brother toward the school, I addressed her anxiety.

“Sweetie, I know that by the time you come home today, you’re going to be beaming. You’re going to tell me how wonderfully your day went, how you are so happy to be where you are. How prepared you are, how everything clicked for you.”

“Do you really think so, Mom?” she asked. “I hope you’re right but I’m afraid you won’t be.”

“I know I’m right. Mom’s know.”

And I did. Hours later, she beamed, she chattered happily as she recounted her triumphant day, things clicked for her.

My next stop was my yoga mat. After my yoga class, I planned to return to my book manuscript, due soon, the one that I’d put aside for much of the summer. In about a week I will move from the private activity of writing to the collaborative effort of editing.

The yoga teacher warmed us up and eventually guided us into Firelog pose (agnistambhasana) — a deep hip opener. I found I was tighter than usual. As I breathed through the pose, I could feel energy and matter stuck.

My demons.

Our teacher left us in the pose long enough (each side got a turn) for me to tune in to my own fears and blockages.  Like Tessa, I was afraid of making a transition, of leaving behind what was within my comfort zone and revealing myself to The New. Would my work be deemed acceptable? Would I prove to have what it takes? Would I be able to say and do the right things in this next stage of my book’s journey? Am I good enough?

Soon I will share my so-far private project with a critic — my editor. Of course, the end-step will be to share it with the world (or an adoption corner of it). My impending steps toward increased vulnerability triggered low-level anxiety, much like my daughter experienced.

I inhaled these insights and exhaled release. The tension in my hips began to soften and eventually unknot. With each breath I was able to ease more deeply into the pose.

A yoga class.At the end of class as I lay in savasana, a pose of complete relaxation and release, I experienced the perfect a-ha! moment. The words I used to calm  Tessa could also be used to calm me.  I will get this manuscript turned in. Chances are I will end up beaming and things will go wonderfully (and if not, I will deal with that). I am prepared for the next stage of my book journey and I bet I’ll be just as content and competent in my new phase as I’ve been in my old one.

I am enough.

Moms know. I know.

Photo credit: Wikipedia

~~~~~

Perfect Moment Monday is about noticing a perfect moment rather than creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between.

On the last Monday of each month we engage in mindfulness about something that is right with our world. Everyone is welcome to join. The next Perfect Moment Monday event will begin September 24.

To participate in Perfect Moment Monday:

  1. Follow Write Mind Open Heart.
  2. Write up your own Perfect Moment and post for August.
  3. Use List.ly below to enter your name (or blog name) and the URL of your Perfect Moment post. You can even embed the entire list on your own post (holler if you need any help doing so).
  4. Visit the Perfect Moments of others and let the writers know you were there with some comment currency.

Once you make a Perfect Moment post , you may place this button on your blog. (Looky! Its the 2012 version, courtesy the fabulous Justine!)What Perfect Moment have you recently been aware of? Visit these moments of others and share your comment love.

I Own That

Jane asked us at the start of yoga class to silently  compliment ourselves on something. In the space of seconds I discounted everything that came to mind.

  • On my body? That’s my genes.
  • On my children? That’s someone else’s genes.
  • On my writing? That’s due to my dad, my 7th grade teacher, Melissa, y’all who read, my agent and some good luck.
  • My musical ability? Luck.
  • My sense of humor? Not mine, really.

Just about everything I thought of could be traced to someone else.

I was also swirling around in my mind that morning Melissa’s post on Ashley Judd, otheration and esteem privilege, as well as the BlogHer post on receiving validation online. As I write my book, I am wondering how to keep my measuring stick inside, to not be swayed by either praise from people who love my book (I hope there are some!) or disdain for people who find fault with it (I hope there are none! But there will be).

So the idea of internal vs external validation was high on my mind in yoga class as I struggled to find something to compliment myself about. Don’t argue the obvious counterpoints of my arguments to me — I already argued them to myself and it didn’t make a difference in how I felt on the mat. Everything boiled down to not mine, really. Everything I could think of came to me either through nature or nurture, through what I was born with or what others offered me.

Everything except one thing:

.

..

I show up.

That’s what I ended up complimenting myself on. I show up on my mat several times a week. It’s in my calendar — I make my physical and spiritual health a priority by scheduling other things around yoga class. I show up to write my book, at least an hour every day that my kids are in school.  I don’t always feel like writing  then or have a plan for what to say, but I show up and see what happens, shutting out other distractions (there are so many!) during that hour.

I showed up at piano lessons and flute lessons back in the day. I show up to make dinner. I show up for my kids when there are important or routine things going on. We all show up for family dinner time. I show up with my sisters and my parents and my friends. I show up in this space.

It’s simple, but it’s the one thing I can claim and be proud of. The act of showing up, over and over again? I own that.

Way to go, Lori.

~~~~~

Your turn to pay yourself a compliment. What are you proud of in yourself?

Balance: Heaven on earth

Earlier this week we celebrated a time of balance, the moment in which the earth is midway on her path between solstices. Even the word equinox, equal night, denotes balance.

The precise time of the spring equinox was 11:14 pm where I live, so I didn’t mark it with much fanfare. However, 10 hours later, a friend from yoga class accompanied me to a local labyrinth on a hill.

I walked a labyrinth years ago on the autumnal equinox. I am lured to labyrinths as a walking meditation. With a winding path, you don’t really know how long the journey is or how you’ll get to where you’re going. You know only that if you keep putting one foot in front of the other, you will experience it all. The labyrinth itself leads you through and you don’t have to make any decisions other than to move forward (unlike with a maze).

As I walk I find myself wanting to look ahead to the next turn. Each time I gently bring my mind back to the one step I’m on. I find balance everywhere. I’m certain, though I haven’t counted, that the number of left turns is equal to the number of right turns. Some the time I’m walking the inside of the labyrinth and some the time I’m walking the outside of it. I am alternatively inhaling and exhaling. The earth and I are in this exquisite and fleeting moment of balance.

And I am aware of it.

The morning is chilly, about 40 degrees (4° C). Still, I remove one of my jackets and take a perch at the center of the labyrinth on a tree stump. I decide to offer up tree pose with half lotus. Nothing too difficult, but fitting in with the morning’s theme of balance and calm. My friend snaps a photo.

vrksasana

I was surprised later when I saw this photo by the joy on my face. I thought at the instant my friend clicked the shutter that I was fighting amid the shivers  to stay balanced on the stump. But clearly I was in heaven. Rooted yet rising.

Did you do anything special to usher in spring? (Or, for my southern hemisphere friends, autumn?)