Tara Brach & Radical Acceptance

I listen to a lot of podcasts. For a lot of different reasons. I listen to Savage Love and Guys We Fucked to lightly entertain myself while walking dogs, I listen to This American Life, Radiolab and Snap Judgement when taking a migraine nap or screen break and want to hear a beautifully told story.  I listen to Tara Brach's meditation talks in two instances: 1. To help me sleep (honesty is the best policy, right?) 2. When I feel like punching someone/thing because I have so many feelings that I don't know what to do with. 

A recent peaceful moment, provided by Lubber Run & Lucy, the bulldog. 

She's a Buddhist teacher of meditation, "emotional healing" and "spiritual awakening". I put those terms in quotes not to make fun of them, but because I recognize that they are very subjective concepts that may seem wishy washy at first glance. I don't meditate, yoga is the most spiritual activity I've ever been involved in, but somehow her teachings click with me.

This evening I read this quote at the end of my yoga class:

“The emotion of fear often works overtime. Even when there is no immediate threat, our body may remain tight and on guard, our mind narrowed to focus on what might go wrong. When this happens, fear is no longer functioning to secure our survival. We are caught in the trance of fear and our moment-to-moment experience becomes bound in reactivity. We spend our time and energy defending our life rather than living it fully.” From Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life With the Heart of a Buddha 

I realize that it seems like a pretty negative quote. It points out an emotional pattern that can be damaging and articulates how that damage is embodied. But for me, reading that passage was a happy surprise because it describes my emotional experience in a very simple way.

Fear or anxiety, has been an actor in my life for a long time, with varying degrees of power over my mental state at any given time. It's helped me in some ways, pushing me to work hard in school, to keep my room clean, to do X or Y menial task as soon as possible because of my fear of failure. But that fearful energy has also kept me from actually experiencing much of the beauty in my life. Because I was so addicted to my quest for achievement, I didn't take the time to breathe and see the wonderful things/people in front of me.

In my case, the fear-motivated achievement rampage ended in a screeching halt when my body decided to revolt and trap me in a year-long migraine that sent me back to my hometown to try to sort things out. One of the things I learned in that time away from normalcy was that anxiety & fear inhabit my body, and the resultant stress had built up so much that I cornered myself into sickness.

Because I found myself so abruptly halted in my path to adulthood, I was forced to look around a little.  It turns out, it's pretty easy to live in the moment when your future is a giant question mark. The life I found when forced to step out of my fear-driven rat race grew into a pretty sweet setup, rich with friends, yoga, dogs and family.  When I let go of the fight-or-flight impulses that led me to push myself so hard, I could breathe and take pleasure in simple things.

Tara Brach has another quote that describes the emotional growth I've experienced in the last few years:

"When we put down ideas of what life should be like, we are free to wholeheartedly say yes to our life as it is." - Tara Brach

Once I abandoned the lofty expectations I had set for myself, I was much more able to enjoy things for what they were and experience my emotions in a much fuller way. It was easier for me to simply know how I felt about something when I let go of how I thought I was supposed to feel. My meta-feelings (feelings about feelings) had generally been negative and self-deprecating. Now, thanks to yoga, Tara Brach and some hard knocks, my internal critic has quieted down a lot.

For example: I used to get anxious when sitting quietly with people, scared that if I didn't fill the dead air with some chatter or activity that people wouldn't enjoy being around me.  Now, some of my favorite moments are the quiet ones, spent with someone I care about, enjoying a warm night or lovely view. The silence gives us license to speak only when we have something worth saying, so it has lead me to much deeper (and more memorable) conversations than I may have had before.

Perhaps this is all an overly complicated way to say that I am growing up. Either way, I think that Tara Brach's teachings can be a wonderful tool when trying to avoid the vicious cycle that can be caused by an overactive mind. I'll close on a positive note:

"There is something wonderfully bold and liberating about saying yes to our entire imperfect and messy life." - Tara Brach 

XO,
KCZ

My Favorite Pose: Leg- Up-the-Wall

I know, it hardly looks like yoga! But it has a Sanskrit name and everything, I promise (Viparita Karani, though I've never heard it referred to as anything but "Legs-Up-the-Wall"). I LOVE this pose. When I go to classes at Tranquil Space, I always try to get a spot by the wall so I can do this instead of Savasana (corpse pose) at the end of practice.  I even mentioned the pose when I was interviewed as Team Player of the Month! 

Lots of yogis, from the old school to the new school, sing the praises of this pose. Cyndi Lee, yoga goddess, says it's her favorite.  It's said to help with just about every malady: arthritis, digestive issues, headaches, high OR low blood pressure, urinary issues, varicose veins and menstrual cramps. In addition, it's often suggested to people struggling with anxiety, depression or trouble sleeping.

I'm not an expert in the therapeutic effects of the pose, but if I hold the pose for a few minutes, I can definitely feel the blood that's been built up in my legs flow to my head. If I'm feeling  sluggish, I'll slip into this pose at home to get an energy boost. When I'm practicing yoga with an intense migraine, I make sure to give myself at least 5 minutes in legs-up-the-wall. 

To be as restorative as possible, Yoga Journal suggests 1-2 blankets or a bolster about 6 inches from your wall, supporting the area right above your sitting bones (the poke-y parts of your butt). With this support, your back should arc slightly, but your shoulders should always rest firmly on the ground. To up the comfort ante, I like to fold up the edges of a blanket a couple times and slide it under my neck for a little neck roll. 

I'll also play with different arm placements. When I'm doing this pose as a final rest during practice, I'll have my hands in the same position they would be in for Savasana (along my side, palms up). To add a bit more stretch to the pose (because you are already slightly stretching the backs of your legs), I'll bring my arms over my head and grab opposite elbows. This opens up the chest and shoulders. You can also play with spreading the legs wide, or bringing your feet together close to your body and letting your knees splay out, like you would in cobbler's pose. 

HOWEVER, the good news is that you don't really need any yoga accessories to get the benefit of this pose. You don't even need a mat! Just slide your hips close to an open patch of wall, gently swing your legs up and let the tranquility roll in. I encourage you to hold this pose for at least a few minutes so you can start receiving the benefits of reversing gravity's effects on your circulation. Or put on a podcast/some ethereal tunes and stay awhile! 

XO, 

KCZ

Let's tell the truth.

Maya Angelou and her friend Harry. 

“Let's tell the truth to people. When people ask, 'How are you?' have the nerve sometimes to answer truthfully. You must know, however, that people will start avoiding you because, they, too, have knees that pain them and heads that hurt and they don't want to know about yours. But think of it this way: If people avoid you, you will have more time to meditate and do fine research on a cure for whatever truly afflicts you.”   

― Maya Angelou, Letter to My Daughter

I just finished reading I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou (I can finally give it back to you, Abbi!). I loved her voice, so I looked at a list of her famous quotations to see if any of them spoke to me. This one did.

For the last few years, I've struggled with what to say when people ask me how I am. I aspire to be genuine, open and honest but I'm also aware of the fact that not everyone actually wants to hear that you've been an 8/10 on the pain scale for the last 3 days. "How are you?" is the kind of question many people simply toss into empty conversational airspace, only prepared to respond to "great! and you?", as opposed to a genuinely considered answer.

I used to instinctively respond with something positive when someone popped the question. I couldn't fully articulate it then, but that was because I believed that no one really wanted to know my pain, anger, annoyances or whatever else was truly going on in my head. This instinct, and the belief behind it led to a lot shallow friendships based on empty chatter, but few deep connections. It also meant that I suppressed my feelings/struggles in public, believing that I was only allowed to be sick or upset behind closed doors.

I'm such a big fan of Angelou's quote because my experience has led me to see how unhealthy it is to hide ourselves from the people around us. Years of claiming to be "great" when I wasn't meant a whole lot of swallowed tears, clenched fists and words unspoken. I believe you carry these unexpressed feelings with you, that they stay in your body, unprocessed because we fear there is no socially acceptable way to articulate them. They can harden like a brick, causing you to sink into depression. They can cause clenched teeth (TMJ disorders woo!), huddled shoulders, or crinkled spines because we train ourselves to hide our hearts. I still wear a night guard to protect my teeth from grinding the tension of my day out as I sleep (get in line, gentlemen).

I think we can do better, and I've been trying to do better myself. It's been awkward; led to a handful of weird conversations because I have answered a question too honestly or someone learned something they weren't expecting. Some people in my life find it exhausting, some call it selfish. They've learned not to ask me questions they don't want answered truthfully.

But it has helped me tremendously, in ways I never would have expected. Blessings that have come from my experiment in social psychology:

1. I've built significantly deeper friendships. One of my closest friends, Abbi, and I originally bonded because when she asked why I moved back home, I answered honestly (health issues).  In turn, she shared details of her situation that she usually waits awhile before dropping on someone she hasn't seen in years. Immediately, walls between us fell and we were able to simply be ourselves and support each other through our respective struggles. As part of that support, Abbi brought me to my first class at Tranquil Space, my yoga home. 
2. I'm less anxious in social situations. Instead of worrying about how I'm going to answer this question in a way that won't be "weird' or over-sharing, I just say what makes sense to me.  Sometimes it's the truth, sometimes it's a less intense version of it. Sometimes, I'll tell a white lie (like saying I'm "great" on days where I truly feel the opposite). Either way, I'm able to enjoy conversations as they unfold instead of fearing the inevitable questions.
3. I'm more comfortable in my truth. If I'm feeling angry, I accept that. If my head is killing me, I accept that too. Instead of suppressing my anger or carrying the weight of my pain in secret, I actually process how I'm feeling. I'm not perfect and there's certainly plenty of room for improvement, but my inner voice has definitely gotten louder. 
4. The bad ones, the ones who don't really want to know how my day went, the ones who aren't interested in a genuine conversation, don't waste my time anymore. I make them uncomfortable, or sad, or something else that they'd prefer not to experience. Either way, it's a natural weeding-out process that saves me a lot of time and allows me to focus on relationships that actually matter.

So, I'd like to join Maya Angelou in encouraging everyone to be more honest with the people around them. I think you'll be surprised with what happens.

XO,
KCZ

Yoga and Body Image

Dove pose at the Georgetown Waterfront, Washington, DC. Photo Andrea Lynn Taylor.

On Monday, I went on a little photo adventure with a few of my yoga babes, including photographer Andrea. We galavanted along the Georgetown waterfront, popping into our most show-off-y poses when we found a patch of good light, trading tales of yoga party tricks and generally enjoying each other's company.

Beth, Alli and I rounded out our evening with a visit to Good Stuff Eatery where we (decked out in yoga garb) went to town on burgers, fries and beers.

It's been a few days since Andrea posted this "sneak peek" shot from our evening together. I have to admit, it is still hard to believe that I'M the person in the picture. This girl seems so serene, poised and most of all, thin.  How could that be me?

For reference, a "before"  picture. 

I've never considered myself a thin person. There were even times when I felt my body veer over the edge of "normal" to "chubby" or "plump", particularly when I saw my weight come within a burger or two of 200 lbs. Luckily, I was raised well enough to know that I have more to offer than my looks. I always assumed that I could simply make up for the extra pounds by being sufficiently smart, funny or interesting. But make no mistake, I did feel that my weight was something I needed to make up for. Clothes shopping was a mixed bag because some items would fit fine, some would make me look like an overstuffed sausage casing. In the latter case, whenever something hugged me in all of the wrong places, it was my body's fault for how crappy things looked. Not the clothing manufacturer, not the designer, not a simple case of a bad fit: I was chubby and so it was my fault when clothing didn't look good. Though I paid attention to what I ate and tended to veer towards healthier options, I had a pretty sedentary lifestyle. I would probably only exercise a couple times a week, never in a strenuous manner.

I want to be very clear about something: my experience is not unique. Every girl (and many full-grown women) I've known has body image issues. It's utterly depressing and unhealthy and a great argument for Feminism (not that men don't sometimes have the same issues) that girls are trained to judge their bodies so harshly that it's nearly impossible to escape adolescence without insecurity.

Starting near the end of 2012, I had a health crisis that caused me to rethink everything in my life. I moved from Portland, OR to my hometown of Arlington, VA. I wanted to make sure that allergies weren't making me sick, so I started an elimination diet, removing all gluten, soy, grains of any kind, sugar, dairy, legumes and caffeine from my diet. For all of my hang-wringing and fussing over ingredients, I didn't feel any better. So I made my diet slightly less restrictive, sticking to the tenets of the Paleo diet, which allowed me to re-introduce natural sugars (such as honey and maple syrup), but not much else. My experiment with these diets lasted a little over 3 months. I lost about 40 lbs, but I was still sick.

At the same time, I started going to yoga on a regular basis. My friend Abbi brought me to Tranquil Space, which I came to love. At first, I went a couple times a week. Then, 3-4. Eventually, I started working at the front desk. This summer, I completed Level 1 Teacher Training, a four-day intensive program that gave me the tools I needed to start teaching yoga. Since training, I do some form of yoga almost every every day.

Now I'm paleo-ish. I eat mostly gluten-free but don't freak out about ingredients much (especially when out at restaurants). If someone offers me a gluten & sugar-full cookie, I'll probably take it. But everything I cook for myself at home is soy, dairy & gluten free.

All of this is to say: I didn't always look this way. Looking like this definitely has its benefits: a lot more male interest, clothes fit better (not my old ones, of course!) and I'm more comfortable in my skin. However, I'd argue that the most important benefits of my "yoga body" are the things it can do.

Things like arm balances, where I trust my hands to carry the weight of my whole body:

Bakasana (Crow Pose) with Alli, Washington, DC. Photo by Andrea Lynn Taylor.

Or chaturanga dandasana a pose that every Vinyasa Yoga class does at least 10 times, but I couldn't manage until I'd been practicing for months:

Chaturanga Dandasana with Beth and Alli, Georgetown Alleyway, Washington, DC. Photo by Andrea Lynn Taylor.

Yes, of course I'm happy that I can wear head to toe spandex and walk around in public with confidence. Of course I love seeing pictures of myself and no longer fretting over my lumpy stomach or chubby arms. But if you asked me what the best thing that came of my (continuing) struggle with illness was, it wouldn't be the weight I lost. It is the knowledge that even though my body often fails me, I can always return to yoga and be reminded that I am powerful. 

XO,
KCZ