balance

Self Care in 2019: Balance, Balance, Balance!

/ Elizabeth / Leave a comment

Yes, yes, of course. Self care is quite the catch phrase lately, so much so that at this point I feel like its actual meaning has been replaced with a pop culture meaning, which is spend lots of money on things like spa days or brand name items and give yourself permission to ignore other people’s needs in the name of putting yourself first.

I’m not against spa days or buying brand name items, and I’m not against putting ourselves first sometimes, but this pop version of self care is a disguise and a ruse that makes us believe that by spending money or neglecting other people we’ll feel better. And many of us will — but fleetingly — and at what price? The pop version of self care is a hollow way of taking care of yourself.

But in 2019, I’m going to focus a lot more on self care — or simply taking care of myself — and to do that, I am seeking the magic ingredient:  balance. Balance in everything:  my work life, my social life, my home life, my inner life, my health, all of it as much as I can. And it’s going to be hard. Because to be balanced, truly balanced, is nearly impossible.

     Balance is ephemeral, a moment of suspended grace.                                                      It’s not a permanent position, but it’s one worth striving for.

Balance — or an attempt at balance — requires self-awareness, self-forgiveness, optimism, and even a sense of humor. Because I know with my achiever tendencies I’ll want to “Be Balanced” right away and I’ll want to feel like I’m doing it right and making the right decisions all the time. But that’s the beauty — and the difficulty — of balance. There’s no one way to do it, and the path to balance transforms day to day.

One day balance may mean listening to a friend, really listening, with that still attentiveness and no agenda other than to be there. Another day it may mean taking on the center of attention while retelling a hilarious story. One day it may mean pushing myself really hard at a work out and one day it may mean staying home to rest. It may mean working till 9pm on Tuesday and leaving right on time to go out with a friend on Wednesday. It’s tricky. It’s unpredictable. Whatever it is it’s an approach at walking through life, not as a person frozen in perfect balance — whatever that would look like! — but as a living being responding to the world and her own inner voice and doing her best to make adjustments in loving, good humor.

The Achiever on Vacation

/ Elizabeth / 1 Comment

As an Achiever (see previous blog post for details) vacations can be hard on me. Sometimes space opens up and the clouds lift and I’m able to just be, to just relax. More often that doesn’t happen, or happen for very long, and I’m back to thinking, “What have I even done on this break?” Because, you  know, how can you lord over someone how relaxed you are — there’s no winning in that, you’re too relaxed!

That said, one good way for an Achiever to find a little balance is by reframing their achievements and focusing on the achievements in a non-work task or activity. So for this winter break I wanted to accomplish the following:  1. Read everyday, 2. Exercise six times (yes that’s very specific — but trust me — complex calculations took place before deciding on six), and 3. Be in the moment at least once a day.

I’m happy to say that I’m well on my way to achieving the crap out of this vacation. And to celebrate, I’m going to list a few of my smaller accomplishments.

  • Watched the entire Twilight series over the course of two days — eventually my eyes started to hurt but it felt good to just sit and revel in a guilty pleasure
  • Sat in a cafe and read The Sun cover to cover — so good!
  • Played Let’s Go Fishin’ with family members on Christmas Eve — things got intense with the grown ups
  • Tried a new recipe for Christmas Day — delish!
  • Yoga with one of my favorite teachers and spent 99% of the class just enjoying it — normally my mind is in 110 places at once
  • Glow in the dark mini-golf with some hilarious kids, oh, and some PacMan and Skee-Ball and that silly drop the claw and try to get the prize game
  • Snuggling with the cat on the couch

None of that seems very impressive — a fancy vacation to the Bahamas it is not — but as someone who wants to win everything, everyday, all day long seeing these small acts as a achievements is hard for me — so I count these activities and my perspective on them both as wins.

And honestly, even if I weren’t an Achiever driven to accomplish Big Things everyday, who cares if this simple list was my dream vacation, best of all worlds? Why let myself get sucked into trying to compete with other people’s lives — ones that are very likely highly curated and filtered? Most of life is the everyday, and cherishing these everyday moments — and recognizing them as moments to cherish — is an achievement in itself.

The Achiever at Christmastime

/ Elizabeth / Leave a comment

At the beginning of the school year I took the Clifton Strengths assessment, a kind of long survey that asks you to rate what you prefer between two choices or what you think about two options. I wasn’t shocked when my top strength came up as “Achiever.”

Achievers like to write lists and check things off, get things done, and not only work long hours but work hard. Based on how I see other people spend their time during a work day and a work week I just thought I was a crazy person when it came to work, but it made sense after I read the description. It sounds like me. And in some ways I now understand why, in the past, I drove many of my co-workers crazy.

I’m learning to manage my achiever tendencies at work, and I’m trying to see other areas of my life as arenas where I can achieve — like Christmas!

Oh, and I’ve done it this weekend. From Friday night after work when nothing in our house seemed Christmas-like or Christmas-ready to Sunday night at 9pm when I write this, things are a near 180. Christmas presents for everyone on the list? Check! Tree up and decorations out? Check! The numerous holiday cards and matching postage are ready to go — just waiting for some friends and family to get back to me with their addresses. Oh, and have you heard? We talked it over and we’ll be hosting Christmas Day, maybe up to 25 people! I guess I just have to send out those invites…

You see what I did there? I crushed it! But wait — is that the way the holiday season is meant to be done? Are we supposed to crush Christmas? Yeah, probably not. But as an Achiever, the to do list is both anxiety-producing and addictive to get done, and except for a few loose ends and waiting for Christmas Day to come, most of it is done. And the loose ends that are hanging? It’s taking all my might not to stay up till midnight tonight and do them — the lesson planning and grading that’s due tomorrow be damned!

That said — I’m going to take a deep breath and try to let the list and all the doing it entails go. Because what’s the point of a holiday season if I’m going to try and crush it all into one weekend? There’s fun and enjoyment in letting a few things stay undone, saving them for next weekend, or even a spontaneous weeknight between now and December 25th.

It’s hard for me to not want to turn Christmas and the holiday season into another whirlwind, 12-hour day, accomplishment. But I’m going to try my best to let things linger and last. And maybe that will be my achievement this holiday season, pushing myself to allow a few things be undone — or spontaneously done — rather than listed, scheduled, and checked off at breakneck speed. After all, I’m not Santa:  I don’t have to get it all done in one night.

On failure

/ Elizabeth / Leave a comment

I experience so many failures in a day. And it begins as early as not getting up when the alarm clock rings. Failure. Leaving late for work. Failure. Losing my temper at slow drivers on the get-on ramp to the highway. Failure. On and on throughout the day till my head hits the pillow at night. Failure. Failure. Failure.

But you know what? I’m tired of feeling like I’m failing, of being mad at myself and disappointed that I’m failing and falling short all that time. Because you know what, I’m not. I’m not failing, I’m alive and I’m living. And sometimes my desires to be perfect (or even just seem perfect) get in the way, measuring myself up against an imaginary standard for just about everything — but who cares? WHO ACTUALLY CARES?

When I’m an old lady — hell even now — I will not and do not look back at my past self and think, “I should’ve really been much harder on myself.” It’s actually the opposite. I’m sad when I remember how mean I was to myself, picking on every little thing that fell short — and in turn critical of people around me who weren’t living up to my imaginary standards. What misspent time!

Because really, what was I so concerned about, so disappointed in? Do I even remember those work tasks I didn’t do perfectly, whether my apartment was clean or dirty, or how many months of the year I was the “wrong weight?”

What I do remember is the times I uplifted someone or hurt them, times I really came through for someone in need, the missed opportunities to be a better friend or better family member — and most importantly — the beautiful feelings of freedom and happiness that have come through things like travel and one-on-one time with people I care about.

So, yes. If I’m going to continue living I’m going to continue failing — probably at some of everything until I breathe my last breath. But I’m trying to remember that it’s not the falling short that I deserves the attention — it’s the living and doing and being that does.

singing or asleep?

/ Elizabeth / Leave a comment

A few weeks ago, at the start of the summer, really, I went with my wife and a friend to a special event where we got to lay in a dark room and listen to a musician make crystal bowls and glass objects sing. I know, I know — depending on how interested or open you are to “woo woo” types of activities, this event may seem like either the best or the worst way to spend a Friday evening. Believe me, I get it. But, even if you’re not into the energy of life, letting go of things that don’t serve you, and opening up space in your energy field for magic, it’s still nice. After all, you get to lay down and rest — and the music’s not bad.

That said, I was there laying on a couple of stacked yoga mats with a bolster and some blankets, making myself comfortable to enjoy this …experience. It was my first time at this type of event, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. Would it be weird? Would it be cool? Would my dead grandparents or future children come to me and tell me something deep? Would I just be uncomfortable laying on the floor for 90 minutes without a mattress?

The musician found that nice balance of alert and playful as she greeted us and helped us settle in, the lighting soft and dim, and I felt more comfortable on the floor than I thought I would. When the musician’s set began I immediately started to relax and breathe more deeply. The bowls and glass contraptions made a soft, resonating tone that filled the room floor to ceiling. I felt my body vibrate softly, too — not uncomfortable, but a distinct, non-me vibration. It was was weird and it was cool and I settled into a deep stillness to absorb the changing tones and volumes and — kind of like night tennis — to use my other senses to tune into the music’s movements as the musician walked the room with her instruments. I didn’t see any ghosts or visions, but my whole body and even my mind began to relax and take in sensation rather than words. Ah…

At some point, I did have to shift around on my mat and that’s when I noticed it:  snoring. There were about a dozen of us in the L-shaped room laid out in a variety of angles and postures and I couldn’t quite tell where the sound was coming from but it was most definitely a snore. At first I was annoyed but then I re-relaxed and reflected. Maybe someone needed the rest and this was their only chance during the week to have that time to just be still, with no outside demands on them. The snoring flagged then faded away. Back to the singing, sounds resonating, the vibrations and energy. Then it happened again. More snoring. But from somewhere else in the room. And while that person sawed away, another person joined in. Now snoring was in stereo!

It continued on and off for the rest of the session, ending with at least one snort when the music itself ended. As soon as stereo snoring began, I decided to have a sense of humor and imagine that the snores were part of the sound experience, an extra flourish to the spiritually healing soundscape. But truly, it made me wonder — what was it about this setting or this experience that put multiple people to sleep? Were they so rundown or overworked that this was their only place to find rest? That in itself seems problematic, even sad. Imagine — having to go somewhere outside your home and pay just to guarantee yourself 90 minutes of uninterrupted rest. Or maybe it was something else. Maybe they were unable to be present in a relaxed body — they were so unaccustomed to being simultaneously awake and relaxed that once they reached a certain point of relaxation their minds just checked out and they slipped away. Maybe the healing they were looking for was there and accessible for them, but they just couldn’t be awake for it, they couldn’t be present and clear for it — whatever the reason or barrier.

And that led me to think about myself — where am I asleep in my life? What are the experiences that I’ve had or often have where I’m not present or clear for it? And why is that? Am I physically exhausted? Am I stressed or anxious about things that are beyond my control? Am I holding on to old pain, limiting ideas or ideals that keep me from taking in and absorbing what’s around me, keep me from growing or changing, keep me fuzzy and unfocused? And if so what can I do to get clear, be alert and playful?

Each of those questions deserves a lot of reflection and action, so I can’t answer all of those here and now, but I can say that time and space, quiet and stillness are key tools that help me clear out. And I guess the unexpected, like snoring, can’t hurt with keeping me alert and playful.

night tennis

/ Elizabeth / Leave a comment

this summer is the summer of tennis for my wife and me. we don’t play too much, maybe once every 10 days, but that’s about 300% more frequently than we’ve ever played in a summer. that said, a couple of weeks ago, we walked over to our neighborhood tennis courts to play. we had waited a little longer than we should have, since it was already after seven o’clock when we left the house and that pre-twilight phase was quickly approaching. but that didn’t stop us from playing.

past the playground, the sprinklers, the field house, the basketball court, we walked to the farthest court, the one bordered by the busier street right next to the men’s softball league game, put our racquet covers and ball canisters and bags next to the net, and strode out to the baselines to hit back and forth. as we chased the balls and swung our racquets the sun set fully and dusk fell. the softball game continued behind me, with the sharp thud of bat hitting ball, infield sand crunching under feet, and yelps and claps when a runner made a go for a stolen base. the field lights and street lamps threw enough light for us to keep playing, although the ball would disappear from view for a couple of seconds on its way over the net, lost in the glare. regardless, we played on. and I began to notice that I was playing tennis differently, not just with my sight and my body following along, but with my whole body — or at least more parts of my body — attentive and alive to the ball. I was looking intently for the ball when it disappeared into the glare, but I was also listening for it, almost trying to feel the wind of it, feel it bounce on the court. sometimes I would just run in the direction of where I imagined the ball would bounce and trusted that when I swung it would be there.

people and their shadows walked by along the busy street beside us, on the sidewalk behind my wife, their shapes getting darker and denser as the night drew in more deeply. the ball began to glow in the little light that it caught, and disappeared just as quickly. my wife and I took a break for water and considered stopping, but we thought why not just a few more?

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and there was strange magic in our night tennis. we played as shadows, in the shadows, running after the shadow of a ball, using our senses and imaginations, not caring about the outcome, the night inviting us into another way of playing.

Claiming space at the gym

/ Elizabeth / 1 Comment

Last week I was at the gym — yes, now that I have actually started going to the gym again, I just can’t stop talking about it! Anyway, last week at the gym I decided to go for a swim, to do some laps. So I put on my one piece bathing suit, brought my flippers, put on my old silver-gray swim cap and walked to the pool. There are only four lanes, and as I approached I saw that all of them were in use. I figured I’d have to share a lane since that’s swimming people’s protocol and I spent some time thinking about that as I walked to get a kick board and pull buoy from the plastic rack. Then as I was grabbing my stuff the swimmer on the end said it was his last lap so I could take his spot. Yay! I waited while he finished and hopped in. Not more than a few strokes through my first lap I saw a couple enter. Eh, more lap swimmers, I thought. And I put my head down and started to swim very seriously, trying to make myself look as unwelcoming as possible, hoping the swimmers wouldn’t pick my lane to share. I don’t know what it is — if it’s because I’m female, I’m fairly small, I swim kind of slow — but men and women choose to split a lane with me most of the time. This was no exception.

So after ignoring the male swimmer hovering at the end of the lane I had to take a breath and he leaned over to ask if we could share. I said sure and we split the lane. I was kind of irritated — being chosen to share yet again — but I had a little chat with myself as I swam to the deep end. He wouldn’t be that hard to share with. After all, he actually asked to share, whereas many swimmers just jump in and start swimming. Also, this would be like, what, 20 or 25 minutes of my life? This is not a a big deal. I continued swimming tranquilly enough. However, about halfway through my workout, I noticed that I was unconsciously accommodating him in the lane, trying to scoot over towards the wall so I wouldn’t get splashed or touched whenever he approached. And because he was a slower swimmer than me I was stopping to space out our laps so I wouldn’t have to have an awkward passing situation with him.

After I realized what was happening, I felt frustrated. I wondered how much thought he was giving to his space and how he was affecting my swim. Based on his uninterrupted flow, I assumed little to none. So I decided to not accommodate anymore. If he’s taking up space and not worrying about how he’s affecting me, then I’m not going to worry about him! That may seem selfish, but sometimes enough is enough.

It happens in other parts of the gym, too — just like in life. In the weight room — even walking towards the weight room — men will not budge if I’m walking right next to them. Even if it means that we’d bump into one another! They leave their towels and water bottles on multiple machines or benches, claiming space that they’re not actively using. They shout talk over their headphone music, grunt loudly, drop weights. My little ole self feels very small and intimidated.

To be sure, some of their behavior is unintentional — or more likely unconscious — so this is not about slamming men and saying they’re the worst. For me, this is more an exercise about claiming my space, and about unapologetically being present. So now I push myself to not slow down or move over when I’m walking — because I’m here in this space, too. I push myself to claim a bench or a machine, because I can take up space and use it, too. I set up my stuff where I want, with a good view in the mirror, because I deserve to use the space, to see myself, and to enjoy my time there, too. I’ve gotten some looks from the men using weights, now that I’m not accommodating. But it feels like they see me, they see me taking up space, and they’re generally okay with it.

So for me this is a reminder. It’s not that I walk around now, knocking into people or slamming doors in people’s faces. But it’s about being physically present and not apologizing for it through how I place — or displace — my body. I am here and I belong here.

I encourage you, reader, to observe yourself and to see where you fall. Are you one to expect others to accommodate you and your space? Are you one to do the accommodating? Just notice and observe and ask yourself:  What would happen if you adjusted a little to allow others to take up space? What would happen if you decided to claim your space a little more?

Doing it out of hate, or doing it for love

/ Elizabeth / Leave a comment

Like writing, health and fitness was something on my list of things to do that kind of fell off the list for a while. I was finishing up the school year — just trying to get through it — and in the flurry of deadlines and things to pack I just wasn’t able to be very physically active. As a result, I’ve gained a few pounds, and I haven’t been feeling my best. In fact, I started to really dislike myself and to feel frustrated and angry about where I was health-wise. That’s not a good thing, to be walking around in a body that makes me feel uncomfortable and even downright mad.

So a couple of weeks ago I had a little talk with myself. I could either continue as I was, mad and frustrated at myself — at my body, really — or I could decide to make a change. I decided to try change (yay for positive decisions!) and then I sat down to spend some time looking at my weekly schedule and overall summer calendar. For me I can’t make a decision and let it wither and fade, sidelined by inaction. It has to be made real for me with things that are visual and tangible like schedules and lists. So I made a weekly exercise schedule and I’ve been sticking to it — with some missed sessions here and there — but I’m working on staying positive, valuing the process and growth, rather than trying to be perfect.

That said, when I was back at the gym for the first time in months I realized in the middle of my workout why I was there — why I was really there. Originally the schedule and list and all that were a reaction to something negative — my frustration and anger at myself — but once I was there, looking in the mirror doing squats or whatever it was I realized I was actually there because I love myself, not because I hate myself. I was there to take care of myself, to spend time with myself, and to invest in myself — in my physical health, of course, but also in my mental and spiritual well being. Because it turns out that I like to move my body and feel strong and see myself grow. I like feeling my heartbeat and having my face turn pink and my muscles get that jiggly-weak feeling after doing something hard and catching my breath before trying it again. I like that timeless feeling of being in the moment, focused on what I’m doing exactly here and exactly now. All of that is a great gift to myself, and a way for me to really experience the fact that I’m here on earth, alive, in a body that supports me, in a body that is my greatest gift and tool.

And I think we all need outlets to get our bodies moving, to reaffirm our connections to our bodies, and to spend some time having those timeless moments where clocks and schedules and even the ideas of goals and perfection fade and become distant so that all we can hear is our heartbeats in our chests, our breath move through our bodies, and that beautiful moment of body and being coming together. There’s nothing better than that — that’s what I’ve been missing, and those parts coming together feel like home.

So I don’t do work outs or yoga classes or bike or swim or run because my body frustrates and angers me and I hate it. No, I do it because my body is my home and I love living in it. I’m doing it for love, love, love.

30-day Yoga Challenge: Four Challenges in One

/ Elizabeth / Leave a comment

Since I’m nearly done with it, I feel safe to share the fact that I’m participating in a 30-day yoga challenge:  30 consecutive days of yoga classes, come hell or high water, from April 2 to May 1. And in some ways this challenge isn’t challenging at all — in other ways it lives up to its name entirely.

Challenge #1:  Deciding — And Sticking With It

For most things in life, the deciding part is hardest. Well, not the deciding part so much as everything else that follows once the deciding has been done. After I decided to do this challenge, a lot of things had to shift in my life to make space for it, the biggest being how I spent my time. My alarm clock has been going off faithfully every morning, no sleeping in on the weekends. Most days I’ve had to either stay late at work or leave most of my work to do list undone so I could fit in a yoga class. I’ve had to rearrange social engagements on the weekends so that I can get to yoga, and sometimes skip or reschedule appointments during the week. This may seem extreme, but it’s what commitment looks like when any one of us makes a decision and then sticks with it. Those things we’ve decided are the big deal things in our lives take precedent — or they should — so they’re setting the tone for the day, the week, the month. Everything else should be secondary.

And I have to say that the “sticking with it” part has been tough when I’ve been faced with a tempting alternative to my decision — most often sleeping in on the weekends or skipping an evening class to go home and laze on the couch. But it’s been a good test of my will, to see that I can be determined and strong enough to push myself out of my habits to I achieve something new.

Challenge #2:  Pacing Myself

Unfortunately — or maybe fortunately? — I tend to be a competitive person, even in a noncompetitive setting like a yoga class. Most days I have some form of Rubber Neck Syndrome, where I’m checking out what everyone else is doing, looking at their form, their flexibility, their strength, and then of course comparing it to mine. Maybe it’s from my many years of dance training or my perfectionist tendencies that I naturally start to compare myself to others, but in this challenge I had to really let go of that. In some ways it was good to know that I wasn’t in the same place as most of the other people in the room — there were only about 12 of us doing the challenge overall and maybe one or two in the room with me most days, so that meant that the pressure was off — or maybe not off — but my mindset definitely adjusted when I went into a class. Like I mentioned in last week’s entry, I was really running my own race — or yoga-ing my own yoga. Because of course I couldn’t force myself into the splits and then flip myself upside down into several reps of a forearm stand and then push through a dozen jump-backs from crow pose to chaturanga (first and foremost, because I can’t do crow pose jump-backs to chaturanga) but also because I had to come back to class tomorrow and the next day and the next.

I had to pace myself for the long haul, take it slower than I usually would, and really focus on my own process, listen to my body and my body alone to make sure that we’d get through the month in one healthy piece. Because if I “won class” for the day but felt miserable and sore — or even injured myself — then I’d be defeating the whole purpose of the challenge, and of yoga itself.

Challenge #3:  Imbalance Exposing Imbalance

I mentioned earlier that once I’d made the decision to participate in the challenge I had to reprioritize the way I spent my time, and now that I’m almost through I can look back and see how much this yoga challenge — in some ways its own imbalance on my time — exposed other imbalances in how I spend my time, particularly at work. Without the yoga challenge to pull me away from work and to put some pressure on how I spend my time in the evening, it was easy for me to excuse long hours at work, sometimes up to 12 hours a day. But this challenge has made me notice that work really demands a lot of me, and a lot of my free time. I’m not complaining that I have a job that requires after-hours time, but I’m concerned by the amount of after-hours time I was spending — and am still spending — usually up to 20 unpaid hours a week. This challenge has made me feel some stress, and even anxiety, around time but mostly because there never seems to be enough time for work and also for myself. It’s something that I’m going to be further exploring even after this challenge ends; balance is such a key value that I hold and I want to embody that more.

Challenge #4:  What Happens Next?

This leads to the final challenge within this challenge. I’m almost done with it, but I’m already thinking about what’s next. Do I want to continue daily yoga classes? Do I want to take a break from yoga? Do I want to continue daily exercise and meditation, but expand into to different forms, like gym workouts and more traditional cardio or pick up my meditation practice from months ago? I’m not quite sure yet, and I have a couple of days to decide, but I do know that this challenge has pushed me to make a decision and to make shifts in my life that push me to be more balanced. I’ve also seen that competition is not as important as compassion — especially self-compassion — and that even when I don’t think I’m making any gains I am. I’ve surprised myself this month by becoming physically stronger even when I didn’t think I was, by becoming more patient with myself, and more able to let go, even if momentarily, of the demands of the outside world on my inner life.

After this challenge ends on Tuesday, I look forward to Wednesday and the days that follow and the decisions I’ll get to make that will quiet the outside world and amplify my inner voice, one that is still keenly competitive, but also more compassionate and striving for balance.