Tag Archives: trust

In case you didn’t already know

morning message

It’s just today, again, here for you to take in.

I like to feel good. Stress, typically, does not feel good. Sure, sometimes it’s exhilarating—the thrill of rushing toward a deadline, the zing of taking a risk. But I don’t need a lot to get my fill, and lately I’ve had too much.

The other night I did yoga at home, and that helped, for sure. I twisted and stretched and wrung out some lymph nodes, coaxed my immune system to stay strong. But I don’t always have make time for yoga. Sometimes it feels like there is barely time to breathe.

And that leaves me anxious and afraid. Because, as I’ve noted before in a quote attributed to Fritz Perls, “fear is excitement without the breath.”

I need my breath, because I want to be excited. My writing group is sharing excerpts of our novels-in-progress at a local bookshop tonight. Also, the first printing of Are You My Boyfriend? is officially underway. These things (and many more) are awesome. These things are scary, too.

And so I will breathe. And I will pass along a message.

Ever since my writing group got together in March 2012 and worked through The Artist’s Way, I’ve set aside time to write morning pages every day. The pages are mostly messy brain ramblings, but they’re also a form of meditation, and I often receive information from my version of god/the universe/whatever.

Today, I felt almost possessed—my hand did not belong to my stressed-out self, no, it was guided by something else, and the words on my page shifted from first-person thoughts to second-person assurances. It was a message not just for me, but for you, too, and so I am sharing:

“Just go with it, roll with it, show up and have fun. No expectations, no worries, just do your best…let go and trust, that’s what must happen, it’s the only way this works…I love you so much, I’ve got you and all the others and all of this, it’s fun, it’s supposed to be, breathe in and enjoy it, relax, allow, exist, it’s all right, you’re okay, it’s just today, again, here for you to take in.”

…Just in case you didn’t already know.

Show up and breathe. That’s it.

Show up. Breathe. You're all right.

Show up. Breathe. It’s all right.

My mean mind has been trying hard to score points on the soccer field of my sanity, so thank goodness for my goalie: my conscience, my breath, my calm.

My mean mind can be a jerk—it wants me to feel bad because I haven’t blogged lately, because I’ve been resistant to writing in general, because I’m neither prolific nor renowned.

“Seriously?” my insecure ego prods me, “you’re a writer who isn’t writing? What a joke. A fraud. Who do you think you are?”

This stuff hurts to hear.

And just before the rest of me sinks into self-doubting despair—right as that cruel soccer ball of shame comes flying toward my net of self-esteem—my spiritual goalie intervenes.

“Not so fast!” it says, lightly leaping into the path of projected negativity. The radiance of my true self is bright enough to deflect, to defend against harmful illusion.

“You know who you are,” my conscience tells me. “You are safe. You are loved. You are infinitely supported.

“You are okay.”

I’m so grateful for my goalie, but I still get tired of the game. It’s not always easy to have faith, to trust that I’m in transition, that my words will return, that all will be well—that it already is.

Nope, not always easy. But still true.

And so my mantra during these wobbly weeks has been simple: Show up and breathe.

Show up = don’t hide. Breathe = be.

Be visible. Allow myself to be seen. Take necessary action, and nothing more.

If I show up with my breath, I’m doing my best. My goalie will take care of the rest.

It’s already okay

you-are-enough butterfly

I had a whole elaborate blog post planned. I was prepared to tell you all about my latest bout with insecurity, and how I was hoping to overcome it quickly. (I was on a deadline.)

So to start, I tracked down an image that contained the message “you are enough,” and I composed the title of “it’s already okay.” And to my pleasant surprise, I felt like I was finished.

I could take more space and time to detail the specifics of today’s low-grade anxiety. Maybe I even will.

But for now, I am resting in the reassurance of two simple phrases, and in the relief and comfort it gives me to share their truth.

Better together

Together

It’s important for me to feel okay alone, to trust that I am always loved and cared for, whether or not I’m connecting with another person at any given moment.

But oh, man, it is nice to have company.

Life is so much less lonely when I make the effort to build relationships. Reaching out is not always easy, but it is always worth trying. We all need to feel supported and affirmed, and it feels delightful to actively cultivate connection. For example(s):

At a holiday party last month I hit it off with a coworker of the host, and we decided we were friends. A week ago we had coffee and encouraged each other.

Then last Friday a Facebook update prompted me to message a college pal I haven’t seen in years, and consequently we met over the weekend for brunch and inspiration.

In both cases, instant rapport allowed for easy and open comfort, and I left feeling understood and uplifted.

Sharing time with others who are similarly invested in self-care, living well, and honoring creativity feels invigorating, and it is refreshing to trade stories and ideas with honesty, respect, and humor. Fulfilling relationships are tremendously important!

And if these sound like simple observations…they are.

What seems to be harder is choosing to make space for quality connecting. I frequently find myself at odds with a busy schedule or an I’m-on-my-own attitude, so it takes awareness and action to avoid isolation.

Thankfully, awareness and action are impressively effective, and because of them, I’m getting a lot of what I ask for these days–pleasant company, fresh perspectives, provocative conversations. Connection and support. Understanding and affirmation. And gobs and gobs of gratitude.

Acceptably uncertain

The first-ever Yoga Service Conference starts tomorrow, and I’m not sure why I’m going.

It’s not that I’ve lost interest in the cause–I’m as emphatic as ever that yoga can be both profoundly healing and accessible to everyone, and I remain deeply committed to the practice of seva (yoga-speak for “selfless service”).

It’s just that I’m a little lost.

A year ago it seemed I’d found my path, and while I trust that I’m still on it, it’s led to unexpected places, and I don’t know what comes next. The intensity of purpose I felt when I first discovered the yoga service sector was thrilling and continues to inspire me, but my daily life looks much the same it did a year ago: I still have a full-time job that’s unrelated to yoga; I still talk and write about yoga more than I teach it.

And so, because I’m not entirely transformed, because, despite my 200-hour, Om Schooled, and Street Yoga certifications, I haven’t yet fully found my way, my insecure ego tells me I don’t belong at the conference; that because I’m not “walking the walk” (whatever that means!) of someone who’s professed passion for a career in yoga service, I’m somehow an impostor among the truly devoted (whoever they are!).

But the Yoga Service Council says their conference “is intended for anyone interested in working to create strong, engaged and resilient communities.” That means me.

So my ego can take a hike, because I am walking the walk. I’m just traveling at my own pace–and I’m practicing yoga every breath of the way. Just because I haven’t quit my job doesn’t mean I don’t do seva every day. I do, and I’ll continue to.

And just because I don’t know exactly where I’m going doesn’t mean I won’t get there–and connecting with inspirational, like-minded people will surely help me navigate. As I once concluded in a previous post about pathways: “No doubt about it, there is always somewhere to go, even if figuring out the way involves uncertainty.”

Oh yes, I am uncertain. But uncertainty is more than acceptable, it’s exciting. Uncertainty pairs with possibility, after all—and I am confident there will be plenty of that this weekend. Looking forward to what I will learn!