It hit me like a ton of bricks.

Or one brick.

Your bricks are not welcome here.

Or a little stone.

Cut to the chase and I’ll spare bloody details…I’m sitting here waiting to pass a kidney stone. I did this a year ago so I got a little weepy as I asked the walk-in clinic for some drugs (of the non-narcotic variety, so they were happy to oblige with a quick shot in the arse). I have a stash of my own (thank you very much, Dr. Urologist), so I’ve got the lot of them spread out on the counter and am keeping the anti-inflammatory loaded in my system.

The other piece of news is that I’m nursing a thumb injury. Simple can turn complicated and all encompassing when it comes to thumbs. This one wasn’t healing any too quickly, so I got a steroid injection earlier this week. Part of my work is manual therapy to these hands need to work.

The injection isn’t really doing the job yet, but by last night the addition of the NSAID for the kidney stones was allowing my hand to feel pretty good.

Until I went to pick up a light blanket on the couch. I actually saw stars and thought I was going to wet my pants (or maybe that was the kidney stone talking); it hurt. A lot.

So what better to do on this lovely Sunday than write a blog post about…balance. Now that I’m warmed up, my left hand is typing pretty well (except for the thumb which apparently I don’t use in typing).

As a wellness practitioner, someone who has made a living talking about the effects of stress on our lives I have often said that it does not matter how Type-A you are, the Type-B side ultimately is in control. As the yoga practitioner that specializes in the non-working forms of yoga I echo the same sentiment; in your Yang dominated lifestyle, the Yin will always win. You see, we can all glorify the art of busyness, get shit done, work ourselves into the ground, stash away some funds for a rainy day…

…and sooner or later that ton of bricks, that tidal wave, that wrecking ball, that hurricane, that Mack Truck (see, the metaphors are plentiful!) will just come out of nowhere (such a skewed perception) and knock us down. Put us in bed. Lay us up. Institutionalize us. Our patiently mending and quiet side rules (they have pharmaceuticals to help us start the process). The side that receives care and saying thank-you-very-much comes out of hiding.

That’s what I’m doing this weekend.

Unfortunately I may have dug myself into a little hole and am hoping to mend faster.

According to Katrina Ryan, LAc,

In Traditional Chinese Medicine, health is achieved by living in balance with nature and the seasons. Winter, the season of the Water Element, is the season for slowing down, reflecting, and conserving our resources. We all feel this tendency, but we don’t always listen to our bodies.  In Western culture, being active is rewarded and expected. We feel compelled to keep up the hectic pace that is typical in our daily lives.

This season is associated with the kidneys, bladder, and adrenal glands and the time of year when these organs are most active, accessible, and even vulnerable. They are more receptive to being restored, nurtured, and energized. At the same time, it is also when they can become easily depleted.

All this I know, and actually choose to neglect. I came off of the holidays and began the year hammering hard. Sunday workshop. Weekend retreat. Honoring the calls for everyone’s New Year’s Resolutions. Training. Scheduling through June (whaaaat?).

Work when the working is good. Get ready for vacation. Plan for the next thing. Eat, sleep, repeat.

It’s actually a little easier to write about all this than it is to look at this week’s schedule…and begin cancelling sessions.

And there is something about writing it down that shows just how much that needs to be done.

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Welcome Home.

It’s been a hot minute…or four and a half years…since I’ve been here. I’m not sure why, but I bet it’s because life, the stuff of life, and other stuff got in the way.

Funny how we let that happen. Strange how I let that happen.

The more things change, the more things stay the same. Right now I do not hear that with a critical ear. I hear that as someone who keeps the path, diverges from the path to learn new things, likes a path that is cleared, buys a new pair of shoes if the substance of the path changes consistency, walks the path solo, longs for a hiking companion…you get the picture. I like to keep going while staying open to what is present.

So I’m back. Home. In a place I get to jot down some notes. That’s always been a pleasure to me, yet I neglect it. But now those paths converge. I’ve found some confluence. And maybe even some roadblocks.

Perhaps you’ll recognize and identify. Maybe sit for a minute with me.

Welcome Home.

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Packing.

PackingIt’s been exactly two months since I committed to walking a segment of the Camino de Santiago. It’s been exactly two months since I’ve journaled “My pilgrimage begins NOW”.

Right about that time I met Gretchen, The WingWoman. (Any time spent with her is very worthwhile.  I’ve sent so many friends since then and all have been amazed!) Her perceptions and insights left me in such a state of joy. The information was packaged in such a way I just wanted to go skipping into the future. And with that mindset, “things” just seem to be falling into place. Who arrives at my door, what I say in response to their needs, where I encounter fascination, when exchange occurs, and how the “dance” is done…there has been a shift.

And the change has been in “mindset”. My preparation for the Walk, my Pilgrimage, my study of The Way has made me look at the road in another language (while I’m at it, neither my hiking mate nor I speak a lick of Spanish. Unless “Donde esta el bano” will get us cross country.) The word heresy derives from “having a choice”. And gnosis is “knowledge”. Somehow someone somewhere gave those both of a negative spin. Somehow being informed enough to have choices became blasphemous. And the knowledge changed from an attempt to have a direct experience with God The Divine into something mystical. And negative.

By the way, gnosis is a feminine noun in Greek. I like that. Perhaps others did not.

I depart in five days. So I’m packing. I’m packing the energy to walk eighty miles (the start of Del Norte). It’s the road less traveled. And early on we have to choose between the high road and the low road. No kidding. I’m packing:

  • an open mind
  • the ability to see the Way for what it is
  • a guide book to lead the way if, when we can’t discern
  • the spirit of Mary Magdalene
  • pockets full of prayers and intentions for loved ones
  • the knowledge that when we call upon holy spirit, it is there.

I’m also armed with much bland beige hiking attire for day and pretty skirts for evening. At the end of the day the trip is devoted to gastronomic delights and good wine.

I’ll be here as the wi-fi and time permits if you care to join!

 

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Happy Place

I came home from work early. Not as in “earlier than I was supposed to” or “earlier than usual”. Just…early.

I was plunked down in a lawn chair by the pool by 3:15pm.

Not bad. Not as in “not bad for a Monday” or “not bad for January. Just…not bad.

I soaked my feet and legs in the cold pool. I lounged and listened and thought and watched. And smiled.

Because when you’re in your happy place it’s not about “happier than before”, nor is it “not quite as happy as it could be ‘if’ only…”

Just happy. And that’s good any time. And now.

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Day to Night

This is my favorite part of the day. It’s historically been my fave while either lying in a field or in a boat…the afternoon sky with one turn of the head, complete darkness with the opposite turn. Today, as in so many of my days, I get this from my balcony. Lucky girl! Some days I’m too busy to look, but today my timing was perfect.

Water, meet Sky.

Moon, meet Sun.

Yin, meet Yang.

Time to take rest.

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ice plunge(Shutterstock)

Two years ago I ushered in the new year on a snowy mountainside, practicing healing breathwork meditation, walking across hot coals. Last year I sat on a boulder by the ocean, breathing calmly, and contemplating putting my feet in. This year, on a chilly Florida Saturday, I worked the breath again, and submerged myself in ice water.

The “secret” to getting this done was the breathwork. When practicing with my teacher, David Elliot, there is a kindness and gentleness to the work, with ultimate goal of healing through (self) love. I find that my fellow practitioners can be as excited and animated as the next guy, but they all lovingly go into leading the work and regardless to how difficult the practice gets for me, there is a level of peacefulness and joy in the journey.

This year I attended a breathworking session in the Wim Hof Method (WHF). Lead by former professional athlete, entrepreneur, and gifted motivator, Pavel Stuchlik, the hours long session stimulated my senses in a completely different fashion.

When I say I’ve “studied breathwork”, I mean it as the most elementary student. I’ve read the science and the research studies of all of the well known styles of modern breathwork as well as traditional yogic pranayama. And I’ve practiced all of them at some point; to say I am a master or even well practiced would be ridiculous as I’ve only been investigating for a decade. But I do know this..practicing pranayama is life altering because it is state of consciousness altering.

Altered states of consciousness, sometimes called non-ordinary states, include various mental states in which the mind can be aware but is not in its usual wakeful condition, such as during hypnosis, meditation, hallucination, trance, and the dream stage. Altered states can occur anywhere from yoga class to the birth of a child. They allow us to see our lives and ourselves with a broader lens and from different angles of perception than the ordinary mind. (The free dictionary by FARLEX)

Back to the ice immersion…I initially got myself there by remembering my sit in a therapeutic cold bath with a well known Navy SEAL. It’s another story with the take-away of “Ma’am, cold is cold to everyone. It’s just cold.”

As I stood outside on this brisk windy day, however, I was immediately transported to a bike crash I had in 2009. As I laid out on the “cold” and shaded February concrete awaiting an ambulance for an hour, I knew that shivering was not going to help stabilize my spine. So I quickly slowed my breathing and stopped my shivering. Because the state of my neck required it. I watched a dislocated wrist relocate and a photo shows me smiling as I knew all would be just fine. And now, standing by the ice pool, I just took a deep breath, slowed my breathing, and stopped shivering. I got in the pool and submerged to my chin, laid my head back, and calmly sat, Even as the person next to me tensed.

For me, the session was not magic…like the fire walk, if thousands of people who thought they COULD’NT do it have succeeded…but it was a lovely reminder:

  • That cold is just cold.
  • That I can get an attitude adjustment whenever I want one.
  • That I am capable of changing not only my mental state but also my physical state.
  • That in this physical body of mine, energy and spirit also meet; those experiences continue to be at my beck and call.
  • That anything I chose can be “non-ordinary” and “altered”; I have the ability to change my view of my life with a quick lens adjustment.

This year’s balance project will, indeed, have more pranayama practice.

And if you’re in the Tampa Bay area, I lead a couple of classes at Bella Prana Yoga & Meditation. Tuesdays at 9:15am it’s Yin and Pranayama; Thursdays at 12:15pm its Healing Breathwork Meditation. I’ve got some pop-up small group sessions coming soon as well as private sessions.

Happy (Re)New(ed) Me!

 

 

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My Red Dress

In the mid-1990’s I had the privilege of working with a fabulous older woman who had lived a life, a life much different than I could imagine for myself. Viola had lived in Hollywood, through the early days of MGM, with ties to both. In her late 80’s when I met her, she was refined. Cultured. Dignified. Witty. Funny. And willing to share her life.

One day she strolled her Manhattan neighborhood when she spotted on the same sidewalk another woman. She thought, “What is that old woman doing in that red dress; inappropriate for her age”. As she noticed the look of disdain on her own face as she reflected in a storefront window, she realized she was the one in the red dress. Horrified, she turned on her heels and went home. She mulled it over. She wrote about it. And several years post she told me.

I put on my own red dress a couple of days ago. I did not run the streets of NYC in my dress, but I did make it all the way to the gym and found myself in a small room with a 20-something fitness trainer.

My red dress came in the form of belly fat. I was having my body composition measured.

Now, I look at my belly pretty regularly. I try not to roll my eyes and say “Good Gawd, Woman, How Do You Even Go Out In Public?!”, but I see it when I do yoga, notice it wanting to form it a muffin top, hide it under smock-like clothing. And admit that it’s getting bigger than I like it to be.

But when this…girl…came in with the ultra-sound to measure it, I looked at it with professional eyes, not the eyes of the woman who wanted a glass of wine with her cheese. I looked down, looked away, looked down again and couldn’t believe it belonged to me. Like Viola, I wondered just when I had gotten “old”. Where have the years gone? When did I become so un-savvy to the ways of the world and my health? And when young miss measured the adipose over my pelvis, the view and thought was much the same.

I came home and had that glass of wine. And a piece of cheese. Or five pieces. And got back on track.

Getting back in balance can be easy at times. At others it can take a commitment of serious proportions. This is about as serious as I’ve had to get in a long time. For the health of it.

My body fat level is too high; I’ve just moved into the “obese” category. Now let me also say that the average American woman has about the same body fat level as I, maybe a little more. But the average American is fat and out of shape and unhealthy and I don’t desire to be her. Anymore.

Interestingly enough, this is the first time in my life that I’ve been told to lose significant weight. (Total disclosure…a good fighting weight, my “game weight”, you know…is about 155 lbs. I weight 165 now.) According to the norms they use, I need to weigh no more than 149 pound. Interesting. Devastating. So much change.

So first I’m committing to losing 7 pounds and putting on 3-5 pounds of muscles. That makes a significant change in my body fat percentage.

And maybe I won’t but a new red dress, although Viola was wearing one at 80 years of age. Or maybe I will.

body fat

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New year, new me. Or maybe old me.

I’m back. Or trying to get back. Or at least back at it.

The last couple of years have brought…the stuff of life. I could bore one with the details and feelings and relationships and work and deaths, but it really is just the stuff of life. It has brought a plethora of writing, but not in the form of a blog (want an educational program? Done.) So here I sit trying to gather myself for another year.

I am personally a great fan of New Year’s Resolutions. People tell you to throw them in the garbage; I dig mine out regularly and look at them. Some are task related, while others are more “journey” based. This year I need to get back on the physical track. So as much as I’d like to say I need the new me, I really am looking for a bit of my former self.

I spent about six months of 2017 with some serious back pain. As is the case for me, it’s more of a “use” and “movement” issue than anything something medical. I’m bending over a table too much, not working a given muscle enough…glutes and psoas, psoas and glutes. I hiked in Greece and Joshua Tree and Maine…and felt good. And then I came home and began feeling lousy again (I’m sure there is a message in there; deciphering it is always on the list). Thankfully, the bulk of it all seemed to disappear overnight late in the year. And I’m committed to keeping it that way.

So here is a little snapshot of how my resolutions will play out in January:

  • Balance. I am focusing on several issues at once. I’m not putting all my eggs in one basket, awaiting fullness before I proceed.
  • Meditation. At least 10 mins daily this month. And any kind of meditation will be OK. Breathwork. Silence. Mantra-based. I know what I’ve liked best in the past, but I’m OK with shaking it up this month.
  • Miles on foot. Last year two comrades and I entered the 2017 in 2017 challenge; logging miles and getting our collective arses through that many miles. We’ll do it again, each trying to do better for ourselves. And this month it means I will cover at least one mile a day of deliberate exercise miles. Stairs, hiking, treadmill, walking…anything goes.
  • Yin. Which is a pretty broad term and one with which I have much latitude. This month I am committed to elongating my posterior kinetic chain. That may translate to “stretching my hamstrings”, but there are a few side elements in there for me which would just be too…scientifically boring…to go into right now.
  • Food. I’m just thinking about it. Thinking about what I need to change. Or maybe nothing. But I’m thinking.
  • Pre-measures. I’m having a few numbers run…like how much body fat I have and where it is on my body and how much muscle mass I’ve lost and oh-my-gawd-this-is-going-to-be-horrifying. I’m doing that tomorrow because I refuse to put it off any longer.
  • Muscle. I need some more. I put on clothes that should be too tight at this weight. And they fit. Which just tells me how much muscle I’ve lost.

Continue reading

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Can we handle this now? High school stud

Can we handle this now? High school students? Adults? #JFKchalleng #tryit http://ow.ly/KI1Zc

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Go, Chicken fat, GO! #JFKchallenge Try i

Go, Chicken fat, GO! #JFKchallenge Try it… http://ow.ly/KI1Oe

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