Being 'stuck'

Lockdown. Social distancing. Travel bans. The same people, every day, all day. No wonder we're in the state that we're in (depression and suicide stats?). And it's not just physical confinement. Extra laws, fear-mongering, fake news, sheeple, the utterly staggering degree of selfishness and greed of many country leaders. And the mask non-compliant. The psychological strain has been immense; limiting your options or making you think three times before leaving the house. It's no wonder we're rates of depression are soaring. We're physically stuck.

I love to translate life things into yoga, or yoga into every day life. Maybe just because that feeds into my own opinion of why I do what I do (helping people to help themselves, basically), or because it's a way for me to make sense of this physical body in a physical world with so many deeper and higher layers and meanings. #existentialism. But it's been true in my life since I started yoga. I've noticed many links between my practice and my life, usually in hindsight (does that make it more or less prone to being a 'grasping at straws to make things make sense' kind of thing?)

In yoga we often come across the term, or at least the feeling of being 'stuck'. Usually in the hips (because so much of the asana practice focuses on and requires hip flexibility), but also in the hamstrings, the shoulders, and in pretzel poses where you're not sure exactly how to undo yourself without breaking... (#pushingtoohard?)

What I've learned though, is that practice is key. If you're stuck - with a pose, with hips, with life - just... keep going. Make small adjustments or improvements every day, if you can. Or just whenever you can. Alwys be open to the possibilities. And be gentle on yourself.

I threw myself into work (and inadvertently, doing yoga asana regularly) during the beginnings of Covid, and, unintentionally, I did a lot of practicing on areas that I hadn't focused on much (because it's good to teach what you're not good at) as well as areas that I was already strong in (because teaching your strengths is nice too!). As a result, my asana practice got unstuck. And as a bonus (I guess I should've expected this) I've started feeling a lot less physically confined. So while we're still in lock-down, and probably will be for a long time still, I've managed to make a massive shift.

And it feels glorious.

But you know the absolute bestest part of all of this?? I've seen shifts in my clients, too. Some small, some huge. But undeniable. And some of them have noticed it too, which is an added bonus (because yay mindfulness and being aware of ones own body and mind and stuff!).

Just keep on keeping on. You've got this.

Be FREEEE!
(ah, the good old days of doing yoga outdoors at the Da Vinci hotel)

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Onward & Upward

With everything Covid going on, Move Me has moved all classes online. This has had its own bunch of issues - technical, spacial, logisticial; and in terms of scheduling, advertising and communicating. It's been scary, and exciting, and definitely not what I saw this year bringing! Many things that I was looking forward to, now won't come to fruition, and I've taken some time to process and deal with that. But there have been some amazing things that have come from it, too. I get to see and talk to my mom and my sister every (week) day now! I've been able to assist people in staying sane, getting strong (or stronger), and starting on their (long-overdue!) journeys of reconnecting with their bodies. I'd dare to say that many of these things wouldn't have happened, or wouldn't have been possible had it not been for the whirlwind that 2020 has brought us.

On a personal level, lock-down for me started with some unpleasant health issues that turned decidedly more unpleasant before it finally healed up. That was a journey that I'd prefer to never repeat... Interestingly enough, my body still starts shivering and shaking when I recount the memories. I was given no option but to back down from my physical practice (which was a serious bummer, because I was the strongest that I had ever been, and I had finally gotten to a point where I was completely happy with my body. I was a bit annoyed, to say the least. But also grateful to be alive 😁 #cognitivedissonace

For two solid weeks I did nothing physical. I felt like my strength was withering away. And it was being replaced with cravings for anything and everything unhealthy and delicious! (I'm by no means saying that those two are synonymous - please don't misinterpret that!) I had been in a position before, a few years ago, where I had to stop doing anything and everything physical for a while - I took a month off doing anything in order to assess if what I was doing was the cause, or even an agitator, of my chronic lower back pain. What I recall so vividly from that experience was that when I started doing yoga again (because doing nothing made the pain worse, thankfully!) I was stronger than I had been when I stopped in the first place. Don't ask how. I don't question things like that! For the very first time I was able to get seamlessly into Eka pada bakasana! Whoohoo!

Anyway, so I clung to that memory in slight desperation, hoping and wondering if a similar thing would happen when I eventually got back on the mat. (On a side note, teaching online without demonstrating was really difficult, but I learned a lot there too!)

After three weeks of not doing anything, I could feel that I had lost some strength. I'd lost some of the control that I had gained over the movements of my body. My flexibility wasn't as good either. But, you know what, at least I practice again. There was no miraculous moment of "ooh I can do something I wasn't able to do before!" or even a "thank goodness I can still do this!". But you know what else? Patience.

I got back into my work and into my practice. I took it one day at a time. I think there was so much else going on that I kinda forgot to set goals for myself? Or something. Two months later, I was playing around with some gliders with my sister and lo and behold I was sooooooo close to doing a straddle press. Like, millimetres away. I tried it again an hour or so later, against a cupboard because I am terrified of unsupported handstands. And it happened. Just like that.

And now I can do a straddle press 😊 and also I can bind my toe in pigeon pose on the one side.

Just like that.

So, long story short, do not EVER give up. Setbacks are temporary if you listen to your body, and persist - slowly, mindfully and with a smile.

Eka pada bakasana on the beach. I miss the beach.

Mermaids pose, a prep step towards pigeon pose where you hold onto the toe with your hands (instead of the elbow) and you have your chest facing straight forward (instead of twisted like I am here)

Also, I should learn at some stage to record myself attempting new poses. Maybe in 2021.

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Trust

ANOTHER BLOG POST?? ALREADY?
What can I say, when inspiration hits, it hits hard.

So, I was just having a chat with my sister and she’s trying to encourage me to write more, or at least trying to convince me that my posts really aren’t that bad and that people actually like reading them - or at least that’s what the stats say? I find myself in a position of needing to just let go and trust her.

But this isn’t the only time that this kind of trust thing has come up for me recently. I had to let go of some crappy stuff that I was terrified of ‘losing’ (inverted commas because it turned out that I gained so much more from letting go that ‘loss’ hardly played a role) and that took a lot of trust that other, and hopefully better things would come along.

I’m really modest, often to my own detriment. But the message has been coming across pretty persistently that I’m actually not that bad at what I do, and that perhaps, maybe, I’m actually really good at it. Maybe I really do have a knack for helping people and seeing things and knowing how to go about shifting things. But just to type that has taken so much (letting go and) trusting people (and their results, too) that I’m wondering if perhaps I don’t have major trust issues… *jots down notes for next therapy appointment*

I’m also wondering now how trust can play into your yoga practice, and I guess there it would be all to do with trusting your body, trusting the process, listening and being kind to yourself (more on this here).

My sister and me. She looks trustworthy, right? 

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The death of me

In retrospect, the past two years have been horrendous. And as I type this, I realise that it's pretty much exactly two years ago that things started changing. Details are not important, but suffice it to say my mental and physical wellbeing were put to the test. There were times that I couldn’t see a way out, there were times when I almost gave up completely. Actually, there were times when I did give up. That resigning, letting go, surrendering.

It was my sister, and a fantastic friend who were always there to remind me that there was good, that I was good. Cuen was a pillar of support, completely unjudgmental, and always there if I needed to talk or vent or cry or find out how to go about admitting myself to a special hospital… Yes, times were rough. No, I didn’t actually go. Because I had support, all around me were caring and loving friends whom I could and did speak to. About everything. …I’m almost embarrassed to admit that there are some almost complete strangers that know my whole life story… Over share was not on my list of cares.

But looking back on it now, it was because of that openness and (over)-communication that I came through it all. Talking was the therapy that I needed to put things into perspective, and to move on. It was the support of good people that kept reminding me where I was headed, and where I needed to let go.

Now I totally get that talking isn’t the optimal choice for everyone, but I’ve also seen the absolute horror that can come from complete silence. We need people around us, to bounce ideas off of, to get different opinions, for support and care, a shoulder to cry on, or just someone to vent to. Friends or strangers or psychologists. Your choice. But choose one.

I think I’ve come through the darkness. I’m hesitant to say it out loud for fear of being smited by the good ol’ universe… But who I am now is so vastly different from who I was, and I am so much stronger, so much more confident, and so much more focused on my own life. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger is such a cliché, but it’s true.

(And in my modesty) It feels like I’m a phoenix, risen from the ashes. The death of who I was, was a necessary step to becoming who I am meant to be.

At least I hope that’s what it was.

Reaching for the stars.
Vasistasana is a great pose, and a strong pose. And the slipping sand makes it harder. Just like life. 

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Treasures

I've been lucky, in a way, to not have had much of a run in with death and losing loved ones. Yes I'd lost grandparents, teachers, and uncles and aunts, but no one whom I was particularly close with. (My English teacher was probably the closest, but I was out of school already when she passed away.)

But that changed this year. And fairly drastically. In January, the absolute best grandmother in the whole world passed away. Even though I wasn't as close to her as I had wanted to be, we'd had a connection that is difficult to explain. She was always there for me. If ever I needed advice or to talk, she'd be there. Even though I didn't make much use of it, just knowing that I could if I wanted to made a massive difference. And that's not even mentioning that she was the kindest most loving most forgiving and most accepting person I've ever known.

Her death changed my life quite a bit. For one, I got more into my gardening :) and I fully believe that it's her spirit that's making my garden bloom so incredibly. (Almost) more importantly, it had a drastic effect on my outlook on life. On where I was at, and how I was dealing with things. The previous year had been particularly rough for me and my reaction wasn't entirely healthy or sustainable. The change was difficult, but essential, and amazing. Her death was the push that turned me from a bud to a rose. So, thank you, Oumies.

That same transformation, as good as it was, was equally challenging. There were tough decisions, hard changes, a lot of psychological work. Apart from my awesome psychologist, I had the unending, non judgemental support of a great friend. Our friendship had been a bit of a roller-coaster ride, mainly because both our lives were a roller-coaster ride at the time. But our rhythms matched and we were perfectly suited to helping each other deal with the mountains and hills of our lives. In many ways we were mirrors to each other.

In the weeks before he died, though, our friendship reached a new level. Its difficult to explain, but it's like we hadn't realised before just how supportive we had been to each other. For two weeks I consciously had this pillar of support. He'd always be there to help or encourage or advise, or just listen. Always. As was I for him. So when he died... He was suddenly just not there. Yes, that's generally what happens when people die, but... like... it was so much more than a physical loss, or an emotional loss even. A little piece of who I had become was shattered. If soul mates were a thing, then this was it. And it was gone.

If my gran helped to transform me from a bud to a rose, Cuen helped to make me bloom into a stellar rose, to start standing tall (even though I'm actually really short), to shine my brilliant colour out to the world, whilst protecting myself from... The aphids of life? 😬



I strongly believe that my gran is in my garden, and similarly that Cuen is in every bird that sings. Always there, in the background. And when you pay attention, they're the absolute beauty of the world. The birthing, growing, blooming beauty, death and re-cycling of life. A constant reminder of death, and a perpetual reminder of beauty, love, kindness, giving and caring.

Sometimes I just stop to smell the flowers (I haven't been able to keep roses alive yet) and listen to the birds. And it makes the world of difference to my day.

It may not have the same meaning to you at all, but I'd still suggest that you give it a try every now and then. It can't do any harm, but perhaps it freshens your day, or cheers you up just a tiny bit.

And hopefully this is my last somber post on death 😬

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It never rains, it pours

In my head I’ve written this blog a thousand times. Each one has been slightly different, but they've all had the same gist. The same topic. The same everything, just phrased or sorted differently.

Each one was about how “it never rains, it pours”, and how, (somehow; I can’t think about it right now for some reason) it relates to yoga, and letting go of the excess, and how the two intertwine so magnificently.

But then, in my head, I started making this blog post so much bigger, and bolder, and more detailed than it needed to be, that I started to loathe the idea of having to write this post... I always had an excuse, or an alternative time to do it, or any reason to avoid writing it.

Yes, I was away on holiday at that time, too, and that could easily be a legitimate reason to postpone thinking about ‘work’ stuff. But still, my head continued birthing ridiculous comments. This time about how I was being so lazy, procrastinating again and falling back into bad habits, being so selfish and self-absorbed, a disgrace to humanity.

Luckily I managed, somewhat, to capture this train of thought at that point. I took a deep breath. I realised that it was self-sabotaging. I realised that it was a toxic thought path. A dead end. And it was only a week later, while lying in bed trying (admittedly, not very hard) to fall asleep, that I realised that I had just lived out the message of my blog post. The excess noise that our thoughts make needs to be let go of. It doesn't always have to be pouring.

But even if it IS pouring, and it isn't just your head making little mole hills into huge-ass mountains, we still can calm the mind down. We can still make it less pour-y and more rain-y, in our heads. And by doing so, perhaps alter our perception of where we're at. Similarly, in yoga, we need to let go of where we were yesterday, or where we want to be, and we need to stop putting ourselves down for not being somewhere further, or somewhere else. We do have the power to calm the storm in ourselves.

Sometimes I feel that my cat always thinks that it's pouring. Like, if she has only two bowls of food available to her around the house, rather than three, her world might end. But it is all about perspective, Elsie, it's all about perspective.

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