Where I am, where I’ve been, where I’m going…

I haven’t forgotten you blog.  It must seem that way.  The truth is my life has changed 100 percent in the past month and I’ve been so busy holding on for dear life that I haven’t had as much time to write for writing’s sake as I used to.  I am not complaining, of course, just sharing.

I’m sitting here, my entire house silent.  My guys are all asleep.  It’s not even that late, barely 10 pm.  But it’s been the kind of week that makes this day (Wednesday) feel like it should surely already be Friday.  It’s not, by the way.  Here we are mid-week, all of the life lived already in the past three days seem enough to fill several weeks for certain.

I’m on the eve of a massive life journey.  Really, if you get right to it, the journey began years ago.  Ten years ago, to be exact.  I always wanted to be a yoga teacher.  Now it’s finally happening.  I’m learning the Dialog, really, and it’s happening.  I’m going to class SO MUCH.  I’m preparing, thinking, planning, and praying.. a LOT.  This is who I am now.  Karen, the future Bikram Yoga teacher.  It doesn’t even feel strange.  It feels like the next place I put my foot on the road, the next rung on the ladder.  This is all part of who I am, and who I am meant to be.  My body is stronger, healthier, leaner than ever.  I am a yoga machine, and I like it.  In about six weeks I will board a plane and (eventually) arrive in Acapulco, Mexico.  I will then spend nine weeks immersed in this yoga that has saved my lfie.  I will sweat and sweat and sweat and sweat and sweat.  I will cry, and miss my family.  I will work, and learn, and hope, and think, and imagine life from a new perspecitve.  I will change whether I desire it or not.  I will allow the miracle of my God-given blessings to wash over me.  I will be thankful.

But this is all in the future.  And I am forced now, six weeks out from my departure, to remain present in this life.  I am mom, wife, friend, confidant.  I am who I will always be, and not  yet who I will become.  I have inside of me all the potential, and none of the experience.  It’s a strange station, but also a relief.  One day at a time, I am still here.

I am asked often if I miss my normal life.  I’m still not sure what this means.  The only thing I can surmise is that maybe people wonder if I miss the old life, before I leapt off the cliff and went for my dreams.  I can’t figure out why I would miss that, but I suppose it’s something to ask.  The answer is no, I miss nothing.  I don’t miss the old person.  I don’t miss having “more time to myself when I wasn’t going to yoga all the time.”  Nope, I don’t miss that at all.  This is normal to me now, whatever ‘normal’ is anyway.  Normal always sounds a little bit like a cop-out or an excuse people offer themselves for the doubts and fear they carry over living life just underneath their true potential.  But I might just be projecting…

So Where am I?  Right where I’m meant to be.  Where have I been?  I’ve been here all along, but in a coccoon of sorts.  Changing, going through my metamorphosis.  Where am I going?  In the literal, I am going to Mexico soon for 9 weeks.

I will always be here.  I will always be.  But I hope that when I look back, I see new scenery each time.

Re-birth

I haven’t been writing here much.  Mostly because I’ve been writing so much on my yoga blog.  And truly, the Challenge has been taking up a lot of my energy.  Both in the area of blogging and just overall.  But I felt like I should take a little time to write something that had little to do with sweating, or postures, or dialog, or Bikram.  Just something from me.

I had a conversation yesterday with a dear, old friend whom I had lost contact with.  It was lovely to speak to him again.  He and I went to high school, church, evertything together.  Kind of like a brother to me, really.  But as life goes, our ways parted for a long time.  But what has been interesting as I speak with him is how eerily similar our lives have been.  All these years gone by and we’ve had very similar life experiences.  We spoke about Faith, growing up in stringent religion.  We discussed our disillusionment with the status quo and how we both had to reach a real crisis before we could come back around to what we believed and who we really were.

We spoke very frankly with one another and I appreciated his candor.  I sometimes feel nervous to talk to people from my past, afraid of what they’ll think of what my life is now.  This is not to say I am in any way ashamed of who I am or the life I lead.  But there’s a shift in reality when the past Karen and the present Karen somehow merge in one interaction.  I often avoid these interactions, dreading the awkwardness that will ensue.  But speaking with Nic is the exact opposite of awkward and there’s a mutual understanding and respect between us that makes me thankful to have him back in my life.

Perhaps the most amazing thing drawn from our conversation was this idea of Re-birth.  I believe Nic and I have both experienced a veritable re-birth.  On many levels we have both shed a shell of a former identity, and emerged a new person.  Nic and I spoke about tolerance, compassion, and love – and the stark contrast between the way we identified with those things ten years ago and the way we do today.  We both agreed that “hitting bottom” spiritually is sometimes the very best thing that can happen.  But the real triumph is getting back up and being strong enough to find your way again.

I’ve never really understood fully why we have to go through these struggles to find truth.  But I know for sure that without shedding, dying, and re-birth – life gets incredibly stale.  We are constantly re-examining the Whos, Whens, and Whys of our life.  Isn’t that the point??  My dear, sweet friend Sean wrote a while ago,

Life isn’t just a cycle. It’s like a long run of parallel narratives, stories we keep telling with our days and our actions and our relationships, our diets, our brilliant plans, our mistakes, and even our successes. We never stop trying to live what we will be, what we want to be, nor do we stop living what we were, what we always have been.

So maybe in all of this there is a parallel truth. That we can become new and fresh. But we always carry the person we are and have been and will be. They’re all the same person. Even when the old one dies off and the new one is born. So, as Nic found me and we re-connected, we found that we were totally different people. Different and exactly the same. Maybe it’s the constant change that makes us identical. We both changed. Neither of us stayed the same. So in that, we were alike.

But at the end of the day, it’s comforting to have a friend like that. It’s comforting to know that we aren’t alone in our change. Change can feel isolating and scary. But having someone to lean on, to talk to, and who will listen is irreplaceable. And as the cycles of our lives, the births and deaths of self come and go, we can find common ground and know that regardless of the past and present we are ever connected and always the same.

Fighting

If you follow my other blog, you know I have been pretty exhausted today. In fact, I was so worn out earlier that I had a veritable meltdown. Complete with crying and feeling hopeless and sorry for myself. I definitely have had finer moments. But as I have said before, this Challenge is very difficult. And in ways I would have never thought. So days like these are expected.

What I come out of this day with is this thought; sometimes our exhaustion forces us into a dependence that we would never have found if were able bodied. In other words, once we lose the will to fight the real work can begin. I literally got down to the rawest emotional state I have been in for a very long time today. I fought tears many times today on my mat (a few times unsuccessfully). And the regular work of my everyday life seemed a far heavier weight to bear than normal. But now as I sit here, with the stress of the day behind me, I feel much more clarity. I am still exhausted, to be sure. I think the difference now is that I have given myself the space I needed to lose the will to fight.

I’ve been fighting a lot lately. Fighting fatigue, fighting with my eating, fighting my body, fighting my ego. It’s a lot of energy to expel. Today, I’d fought my last fight. I remember at one point standing on my mat after the first set of Half Moon and wanting to run out of the room. I wasn’t overheated, I wasn’t breathless, I was just.. angry. Angry and sick of fighting. And exhausted. Really exhausted.

One of the most interesting things about Bikram Yoga is that it’s always been my solace. Even on those days that I feel so tired, the mat is my refuge. People wonder why I don’t take days off. I understand the logic of giving the body a break. I know the benefits of rest and allowing the body time to restore. I calculated 14 and a half hours I have put in on the mat already this week. That’s more than half of a whole day. In one week. That’s a lot of time. But the truth is that it’s not the yoga that I want a break from, it’s my mind. My racing, raging brain that wants to fight and fix and plan. My mind that doesn’t trust the process.

So very soon I am going to take myself to bed. I will sleep, get up, and go back to my mat. And I may still be tired. I may still feel exhausted and weary. But at least the fighter in me can take some time off. I think she’s due a nice long vacation.

Normal

I haven’t been talking much about my raw food experience. Several reasons, really. But mostly because it’s just so.. complex. I find it hard to write about it. Also, it changes daily, which is probably the perfect reason to blog about it. But anyway, I haven’t been saying much. I am going on nine weeks. And the other day I was driving and thinking about it and almost thought I had lost track of how long it had been. I consider losing track a good sign for me. A sign that I am developing acceptance and no longer marking days and weeks, but just living the life. Which is, afterall, my goal.

So, in taking up my new Bikram Challenge, I also took up another challenge. I decided I wanted to do my entire challenge 100% raw. Cuz, I don’t like for anything to be easy. And also, because I felt like it was the perfect time to stop making excuses and let go of that last little bit of cooked food I’ve been clinging to in my diet.

This raw food thing is complex for me. It’s tough, and easy all at the same time. Today we went out to dinner with family. It was odd for me, I haven’t eaten socially much since doing this. And, we ended up at a completely not raw-friendly restaurant. And yet, sitting there, I was at such peace. I ordered my salad, and didn’t worry. My family is still weirded out. They still haven’t let go of trying to “get it..” I dunno, maybe they never will. For me, it doesn’t matter. I told Dave in the car on the way to the restaurant, my diet is not on the table for discussion tonight. He agreed, and it wasn’t..really. But it’s hard for them to not ask a million questions. I admire and respect their curiosity. And I try to be gracious and share when asked. But there are times, many many times, I just want to eat my salad and not be “the weird one.” I know this is not, in fact, the normal way for most people. But I am trying to make it normal, at least for me.

I feel resolute, and much less whiny about my eating than when I started. I struggled so much with cravings. The most recent battle I’ve had is my cravings for bread, wheat, anything with gluten. Probably THE worst thing I could actually eat. And yes, I’ve failed, and I have gotten up and started over.. Respecting the process, of course.

I was laying in final Savasana this morning thinking about what it means to be normal. I think normal is an illusion. It’s like a carrot dangled in front of us. I’ve never really wanted one way or the other to be normal or not. I remain indifferent. But sometimes, when I’m the “raw yoga girl,” being normal seems pretty appealing in a crowd.

But then I remember all those silly things people say about changing the world and making a difference and doing things my own way. Different drummer and all that. And I wonder if we really mean it or if it’s something we say to somehow soothe the insecurity we feel from feeling too normal. I mean, look at me. I sit here with the most amazing life and yet, I want that normal feeling. Crazy, really.

Sixty days ago, I woke up and headed down this path. Sixty days ago. To the day. Two full months. I had no idea then what I would feel like now. Literally a new person inside and out. I’ve shed so much of the old person. It’s like an ongoing metamorphosis. I feel it in fast forward some days. Other days it seems to not be happening at all. But underneath all those little insecurities, when I am desperately searching for a road marker, I feel that peace. That abiding peace that tells me, “this is who I’ve always wanted to be. This is who I am supposed to be.”

And really, I think that’s better than being normal.

Blossoming..

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. Anais Nin

I am in a pattern of learning, growing, and blossoming. I have heard this quote so many times, and have always loved it. But it’s especially meaningful to me right now. The past five weeks have been incredible. Really the past six months have been incredible. But it’s all starting to happen now. Change is happening now. I can’t quite figure out if I have been preparing for this change for the past few months, or if I am only now ready to see it. Or, I wonder, if maybe it’s just really happening now because I finally believe in myself enough to let it happen.

I love how Nin said, “and the day came..” It indicates that somehow prior to that moment, it wasn’t possible. Or maybe that prior to that day, or that instance, or that opportunity.. And the day came. It’s perfect. There’s a resolution to it, relief. Somehow, the wait is over. Beautifully resolving. We’re all waiting for that day, aren’t we? I used to wonder if I had missed that day. I don’t think that anymore.

Change takes place on so many levels. I believe life is always changing us. We are constantly blooming, growing, getting pruned back. If we are honest with ourselves, we can easily see these patterns, even if they’re painful. But there’s risk in real growth. The natural patterns of life force us to grow to a certain extent. Natural aging, change, and life lead us through the ebb and flow of growth. But there is growth – blossoming, even, beyond that.

Nin goes on to talk about risk. Ultimately implying that the risk to stay the same was more painful than the risk to blossom.. grow, change, bloom. I think many of us have a hard time associating change with risk. As if somehow it’s a choice. I don’t honestly always think change is a choice. In fact more often than not, I believe change takes its own shape in our lives. But I think what Nin was referring to here is a conscious change. A deep, personal, intimate change. Change that revolves around singular choices with decidedly opposite results. It is those very changes that matter. And it is those changes that we so often run from. Change, choice, risk.. To the extent that we allow change to affect us, to the extent that we make choices that forever alter the landscape of our futures, to the extent that we learn to risk; it is there that we find true blossoming. True growth.

I fight back the urge to shake my fist in the air at the past.  I become angry at somehow not being able to understand this before.  Why now? Why here?  Why, at age 29, do I find more clarity, direction, purpose, vision, and hope than I ever have? Why?  It certainly doesn’t make sense.  It doesn’t add up.  But then again, neither does the way a flower blooms in the desert.  It just happens.  This beautiful unfurling.  Blossoming, out of my old self, and into a beautiful flower.

Five weeks…

Five weeks can change your life..

I have been quiet lately. Mostly because things have been so hectic.  But also because I just haven’t felt like writing.  I go through spurts where I’d prefer to sit on the sidelines and watch, listen, and observe.. I am in the middle of one of those spurts right now.

It’s been five weeks since I went raw. Five weeks of whole live food.  Amazing.  Really.

I’ll be back when I have more to say, I promise..

Oh and Happy Birthday Matt!!  May your last year of your 20’s be as fabulous as mine as shaping up to be..

Feet in the sand.

Days move with incessant motion. Time brands me with its relentless change. I struggle to hold tight to the tiniest lip of the door frame into my life. Some days I wander about, functioning on the most minimal resources. And even in this chaos I am peaceful.

Time, life, change, days, sunshine, tides, rain, laughter, anger, heat, wind, fear, anxiety, moon, motion, hope, pulling, stretching, giving, crying, watching, running, music, home, partnership, mother, birth, death love, passion, sex, words, thoughts, dreams, life.. life..

I stand firm on the oceanside. Watching the waves of change. I root myself deep into the murky water.. The briny ocean laps around my ankles, threatening to remove my foundation. I am equal and simultaneously changing. I am exactly the same.

This is my time, my dream, my life.. MY LIFE.

I lift my arms, higher.. Reaching up and then down again, hands to my chest in prayer. I bow to the never-ending Prana that courses through me. I offer a prayer of life and thanksgiving. I will not be shaken.

This is my day, my hope, my calling..

I will never give up and never forget to hope. I will never lose touch or forget the voices in my life. I will listen, and remember.

I am not the same person. I am changing like the sand under my feet. But that change solidifies my place in this world. This intensive classroom session. I am forever the student.

This is my life. MY LIFE..

And here I am. Rooted, grounded, solid. Even as the sand washes out from underneath my feet..

Two weeks tomorrow..

Tomorrow will be two weeks for me.  Two weeks on raw foods.  I am both amazed and humbled.  This has been the longest I have gone on raw foods ever.  It’s been an incredible two weeks and I look forward to more weeks and months ahead.

Mostly I have been dealing with emotional detox.  Changing your diet this radically lends itself to all kinds of crazy things.  I find myself constantly dealing with my personal attachments to eating.  But it’s wonderful.  I have been able (with a great deal of grace) to really stop and listen.  To listen to my body and what it wants.  I have been listening to myself so much that I have learned a lot about what I really want and who I really want to be.  I have decided in the past few days that I will not eat when I am angry, stressed, lonely, or sad.  I will wait, breathe, and let myself stabilize.  I tend to make better choices this way.  It’s helping and so much has already changed.

I am also feeling better on my yoga mat.  I feel more connected.  I feel calmer and more open.

Raw food is a long journey for me.  But I am so happy to be this far.  Here’s to many more weeks to come..

Time brings change..

I’m not sure I can put words to what’s going on right now.  I’m not sure I am ready to share the things going on in my life, but I can speak about the joy I feel.  I can tell you that I feel better today, right now, in this moment than I have in months and weeks and who knows how long.  I have hope I haven’t had in a long time.  I feel energy and life and euphoria.  I have more clarity than I have ever had.. And it’s only been two days…

Many times in my life I have gone to make this change. I have said to myself, “I can do this, I WILL do this..”  But my mind, my brain has always caught up with me, and stopped me.  Not this time.  I don’t want to give up again.  I want this to take me over, I want it to happen, and I want it to stick.  I want to wake up in a year and realize I have made it so far.  I want to be able to forget how long it’s been.

Rob, a friend of mine, reminded me the other day about how stubborn I am.  He asked me if I was doing a thousand days of Bikram or something..  I had to laugh, not just because it sounded so silly, but because it’s TOTALLY something I would agree to do.  I can do anything.  Cisco tells us in every class that he teaches, “you can change anything about your life that you want to..”  I believe him.  I can.  I can..

Change is beautiful, and inspiring.  But change is empty without motivation and will.  Change has to equally transform and recreate your mind, body, and spirit.  And on the bad days, you have to remember that one day, it will be worth it.  It really will.

The inevitability of change..

This week has been hard. I won’t lie. It’s been long and difficult. Perhaps the most frustrating part of that is not fully knowing why it’s been so. I can’t ignore the fact that I really do believe I am getting sick. But apart from that it’s just been well, hard. I hate complaining over and over in these posts about the weather. But I truly believe it’s affecting me. It’s been cold and rainy for what seems like weeks. Pair that with a little bit of cabin fever and it’s just not good. I’ve been working hard to keep up with the yoga, going almost daily. But I have to admit I don’t think I am taking very good care of myself outside of the room. I struggle to hydrate and eat properly. It’s all a matter of priorities and making the time, really. And I know it. But it is frustrating. On top of that, I feel like so much is changing for me. I have kind of a love/hate relationship with that thing.. change.. When change benefits me, I love it. When it points me in a direction I want to go, I embrace it fully. But when change demands something of me that I’m not quite ready to surrender, I fight.

I think as a parent, I am constantly facing change. My sons grow up right before my eyes. Every single day they are changing. Eli seems to have a new word every day. Simon grows more and more into a child, with so much new insight into life. It’s fascinating. But there are days that those changes are exhausting for me. There are days that I want to just say STOP! Of course, I am not afforded that luxury. The moment they emerge from the womb, they begin that inevitable journey of constant change. And really, we are all on that journey. But it’s easier to see change in someone else, right? Maybe it’s easier to accept in someone else. I dunno, I haven’t figured that out yet. I struggle to accept change that forces me outside of my cozy spot in life. I push back. Lately I feel like I’ve been pushing back a lot, and I think it’s starting to get to me. A sort of “kicking against the goads.” It’s literally shredding my feet. Because ultimately change is inevitable. You can try to push back, but it happens.

One of my goals for the new year was to invest in some new clothes for yoga. Well, I have done that. I am very very happy I did. But this change (there’s that word again) has impacted many things. First of all, I decided to buy shorts. Now, if you don’t know much about Bikram Yoga, it’s HOT in there. REALLY HOT. So, you know, shorts are a good thing. Well, I’ve been at this Bikram thing for 2 years and all the while, I’ve been wearing pants. See, told you I was stubborn. So I thought it was time, time for me to give up the pants. Well, the shorts are great, really great. But the simple act of changing the clothing that I practice yoga in has been a big deal for me. I dunno why. It’s a positive change, for sure, but still I found myself today in class constantly focused on the fact that things were different. Things felt different. I felt different. Silly huh? All over some silly shorts and a tank top.

Still, change, big or small still has the power to shake us up. And in our stubborn state we often don’t want to go through the work of accepting the change.  I think it requires maturity and humility.  And patience doesn’t hurt either.  Today I was doing Supta Vajrasana (Fixed Firm Pose) and I had a breakthrough.  My teacher noticed it and I was so happy I could have cried.  I had an ankle surgery about 14 months ago that repaired a torn tendon in my right foot.  Since that surgery I have had very limited mobility in my right ankle.  So, Fixed Firm has been a challenge for me, as have many other postures.  But today, for some reason, I found new depth.  I have no idea where it came from, but I know for sure I wasn’t fighting it.  I was hardly even paying attention until I realized what I had done.  And then when my teacher so kindly pointed it out, I was embarrassed, but also thrilled.  So what’s changed?  Have the ligaments and tendons in my ankles and knees finally relaxed?  Or have I stopped fighting the change?  Bikram says “your body will change, it has to.  it has no choice…”  I have seen this many times in my practice.  You can’t do the series over and over and over and over and over again and again and have the same body.  It’s just not possible.  So there I was – in my shorts – smiling like a little kid.  Change can make you so happy.  Maybe change is easier when we don’t even know it’s happening.  Like there on the floor in the yoga room.  If I can apply that to everything else.  Let go, listen, and just let it happen.  In fact, many times, I have found in my practice that the more I think the harder things are.  Don’t fight it.

It’s hard, though to see change happen outside of the hot little yoga room.  Especially when that change forces you to make choices about life.  Letting go of things, taking responsibility, working harder.  It’s never easy. Change is inevitable, it’s everywhere.