What shapes you?

My dharma this month for all of my classes has revolved around being playful, finding the fun in yoga. It's easy to do when you're attempting bakasana (crow) because it's a crazy fun pose!  Your body is being lifted in the air by your arms and if you fail, you get to do a summersault.  Fun.

But what in more difficult poses?  How do you find the joy, the playful, the bliss?  And how do you find all of those in your life?

I re-read a poem recently that left a nugget in my mind.  It was written by Jewel (sorry but I think her thought process is beautiful and her words even more so)....

The things you fear are undefeatable
not by their nature but by your approach.

So it's not the fear itself that defeats us.  We defeat ourselves.  Daily.  Maybe even more frequently.  When the universe throws a fear, a challenge, a really shitty day your way, it's not that moment that defines us - it's how we respond that makes us.  Believe me, I know bad things happen.  But at some point, after grieving and missing him so much, I had the option: I could either continue to feel sorry for myself or I could find a way to grow.  I chose to grow.  Though on the scale of things, it's only been a teeny tiny bit of growth.  It's growth.  And I still miss "X" daily.

But my missing him now is changed.  Rather than making it more on the depressed side of things, I smile often when I think of him.  Seriously smile.  And that's the flip in the switch we all need to make with whatever is happening in our lives.  As I told a few friends recently, we all have the power within us to shape our own direction.  That power can come from a variety of emotions.  And it's that power, that strength that makes us the person we are today.

And the survivor/fighter/lover we'll be.

Why?

There's a moment, every night.

Why comes to the front of my mind.  Why.

Why did my life run off the rails two years ago?

Why did it fall into a pit a year ago?

Why did it take me so long to realize "friends" may not be friends?

Why is a very tough question to answer.  As children are able to, remember the time when a child just posed that simple question to their Mom.  Repeatedly.  Eventually, the answer becomes "Because I said so."  End of story.
But it actually isn't.  The story goes on.  Where I am today is a completely different story than a year ago; than three years ago; than seven years ago.  My story is poetic in an odd way...and yet, I carry on. With life, we don't get the chance to go back and change events.  I know of a few I would change if I could.  But I can't.  They are part of the story that tells people who I am today.
Different religions say different things about my experience and this is not meant to be a religious post.  But, if the last few years would have answered, where would I be?  And why would I be there?  The outcome is changed dramatically.  From an office building tall to barefoot yogi - dramatic difference.

Why I still cry when I miss "X," I may never know.  Part of me hopes it'll always be there.  His smile.  The way he said my name.  The look in his eyes when he looked at me.  I may never know, in this lifetime, the answer to the question "Why did he leave me?"  But my story, wherever it may lead, isn't over.  And his name is the foundation of every page.

Why???  Not sure.  But he had that impact on me.

Passion...........

What is it?  Let's keep it clean and out of the bedroom.  My thoughts tonight are around passion in life.

I took a leap a year ago in what some may say was a "bad choice."  I left my job with nothing lined up and really no thought of what I would do.  But I felt (strongly) the prompting of my "X" from the next life.  Because of family health issues not related to that leap, it took me a bit of time to settle but I have found my passion.

I told one of my best friends the other day I'm 'content.'  Let's think on this word...it's not specifically jump to the ceiling happy but it conveys a bigger, more intense feeling.  I feel like I'm finally getting to that point in my life where, when I let out a big sigh, it's not out of exasperation but from "wow, I didn't know it could be like this."

And I know for a fact, I'm at the point I can say -
I've survived the worst thing life can throw at me.  Mess with me, my family or my friends,,,it's on.  Nothing you can do or say is worse and I will win.

I have caught up with friends the last few days and I want them to find their content.  It's different to each of us and we really have to find our passion.  I've told people before, I think I may have blogged about it - I am so lucky to go to work daily and love what I do.  And when I teach a class, that's just an extra big bonus.

I'm writing this because as a former member of corporate and non-profit USA, what does it take to find our passion?  To do what we love?  To wake up in the morning and think "man, I like sleep but I can't wait to get to work."  So reader challenge - close your eyes after reading this statement, take one deep inhale, a slow and steady exhale and think......what makes me content?

Open your eyes slowly and ask yourself "What's holding me back?"  Chances are, the answer to that last question will be found in the mirror.

Frozen cheese

I like the title of this post.  I think it's an appropriate reminder of something I learned this week.  But first, a little back story....

I've been wondering where my "place" in the world of yoga is and what it will look up.  For multiple reasons, #badyogi is appropriate to me.  I curse.  Sometimes a lot but thankfully I haven't dropped the F-bomb in a class yet.  I find humor in the actions of others and don't hesitate to point them out with varying levels of sarcasm.  I have an ego.  Zoinks.  Anyone that knows me would agree.  I'm not religious.  At all.  And fundamentally, I think religious groups and those that encourage people to live one way or another are flawed and cause greater problems than they solve.  I say what's on my mind, sometimes after thinking through it, sometimes I blast it out, without a thought of what the outcome may be.  I'm highly energetic and to people that don't know me well (even some that do), that energy can be overwhelming.

So for the long term, or even the short term, what is my role as a yogi?  Looking at the counter of #badyogi, is #goodyogi.

I haven't cursed in a class yet because I respect the mat too much.  For the time anyone spends on a mat, it's a type of sacred time.  If it's religious and helping advance through this karmic cycle or just a great workout, mat time is individual.  I say frequently in classes to give the mat that which you don't need - anger, fear, doubt - and take that which you do need - strength, hope, peace.
My ego is kept in check by friends, family and my own sarcasm.  Yes, I may mock others.  But I'm also the first to mock myself.  Not from a place of ill intent but because life is funny.  We all do things that at the time are ridiculous but with time (maybe even just a few seconds), there's something funny there.  What's so bad about sharing laughter with the world?
I'm not religious.  And I may never be again.  But I am spiritual.  I believe there's something more out there, I'm just not so overly confident to say what that is.  Or who.  I believe there has been a hand guiding me, most recently by my best friend that's gone ahead.  While "X" hasn't been in my dreams lately, he has visited Baxter in the past month.  And when Baxter was sick this week, I called on him to watch over our boy while I was at work.  But "X" is just an angel of sorts.  A spirit.
Saying what I think is often viewed as healthy because I don't keep things in, keep them bottled up.  But it also means I don't really follow others.  Well.  Or at all.
My energy, that's actually beneficial in class.  When the class starts breathing heavy, giving me that look, it ramps me up.  And when I ramp up, I can help the class ramp up.  Yoga can and should be exciting.

Which leads me to the frozen cheese.  In a class this week, I set the intention of finding joyfulness, finding the playful and just being in the moment for what that moment was.  Some asanas aren't fun; anything with a hamstring stretch causes my legs to SHOUT.  And the joy in that pose, for me, is that I'm only holding it for a certain number of breaths.  The end can be joyful.
After class, a student stopped me.  She's from India and mentioned she has practiced and studied yoga for years.  And mine was the first class that she ever felt the joy yoga can bring.  We talked about our paths and destinies.  We talked about our practices, what inspires us.  And for 20 minutes, we were teachers of each other and students of life.  As she was leaving, she brought me some cheese, still wrapped in the plastic from the manufacturer.  She thanked me for giving her spiritual food and asked if she could give me some physical food.
I took it, knowing that I wouldn't eat.  Not because I don't eat cheese but because in that moment, I knew my role as a yogi and I knew I have a place in the world of yoga.  And her cheese gift, which has taken up prominent residence in my freezer, is a reminder to always search for the joyful, the playful and to let each moment be that - just a moment.  And I think the world of yoga is most definitely big enough for this #badyogi.

Another candle...

I did it.  I somehow braced myself for the inevitable but found that the birthday of "X," though a painful reminder, was survivable.  I don't really know how.  In the 18 months since his death, I have yet to have a day that I don't think of him.  I did things all day that I enjoy and kept me busy.  And yoga, in all of it's "karmic wisdom," worked really well for me.  When I felt a memory or emotion coming up, I felt it.  I was in the present.  I allowed that memory to take root in my self....and I smiled.

"X" was a really great guy.  Anyone that knew him would agree without blinking an eye.  I am the luckiest of all to have 10 years of memories with him; some good, some bad, some AMAZING.  But they are my memories.  And each one reminds me of the love we felt for each other.  Even at the end.

He was my best friend.  He is my best friend.  That void in my life has yet to be filled by a non-canine. But I can honestly say now, 18 months after the shatter, I have hope.  "X" would have wanted that.  He would have wanted my happiness; for Baxter to be spoiled rotten (he is); for the cat to hiss at every person that isn't me that comes into the apartment (she does).

I never fully understood why he broke up with me until after his death.  I still don't.  But from what I gather from friends, he thought he was holding me back.  I don't know what he was holding me back from - he was the reason I had wings.

Thankfully, because he taught me well, I found my wings again.  And I'm beginning to soar.  I will continue to miss him every day, most likely for the rest of my life.  But I will take that faith he had in me and the lessons of humanity he gave me and apply them.  I look to my future with hope.  Should the day come and I'm lucky enough to meet someone I marry, one chair will be left purposefully vacant.  He will be there with me, in spirit.  Smiling.  Probably calling me a "big ass."  But I imagine a moment, when I give my vows to the man standing across from me, that I look out in the audience, see "X," and he winks.

And I will always wink back.