RYT. New toolbox, same old builder.

Two Saturdays ago I completed the immersion part of RYT 200 (registered yoga teacher training 200 hour level) locally. It was amazing- a completely mind and heart opening experience for me. During that immersive week, it was as if I’d been lifted up out of my life, out of myself, and got this crazy birds-eye view of my life. My self. My potential. I was totally pumped leaving the last class, eager to get on to the hours of other requirements. I’d become equipped with this whole new toolbox of some seriously powerful tools and I was eager to take them and either tweak, or just demolish and rebuild my reality.

But when I returned to my norm- my house, schedule, life, responsibilities, all my usuals…Instead of feeling as if I’d landed gracefully from this fly-over-viewing experience of my life, I felt as if I’d fallen tumbling from the sky and landed in this confused heap, my new arsenal of tools flung all over the place. You with me here?

The photo above (it’s from my Danielle LaPorte Desire Map planner) is from these prompts at the end of each week in my planner. Mulling over the prompts a few days ago, those were the answers that angrily poured out of me. It wasn’t funny and I wasn’t trying to be sarcastic. I was just down and discouraged; frustrated that I wasn’t able to take all these things I’d learned and seamlessly apply them to my life.

I am the builder of my life. I choose how I am, how I spend time, how I’ll feel in various circumstances and in response to various stimuli, how I’ll work, love…every. little. thing.  And yet sometimes, even with a power-packed tool box of self realizations, challenged perspectives, and new hope and assurance, I feel powerless sometimes. It’s in my head, in my habits…this I know.

This week I have purposefully planned in more of what keeps me open, sane, and connected- and made time to delve deeper into all the new goodness I’m trying to introduce to my life (empowering beliefs, choosing action over fear, choosing connection over hiding, practicing openness for myself without expectations from others…).

When you’ve discovered, learned, have been given some great knowledge- some awesome new tool (in the form of anything I’ve mentioned above), how do you bring that into your life already brimming with habits and schedules and responsibilities?

Strength

to rewriting what it means to be strong … 💗

What’s Next?

A member of my family passed recently. He was warm, kind, very much loved and will be missed. Currently I am in my hometown for the services.

At funerals there are always such assurances as to the whereabouts of the deceased. I find myself wondering where they hoped they’d be- I don’t mean in a heaven vs hell way. And I’m not necessarily talking about their religion. More a curiosity as to what they hoped would be next for them. Will it be what they hoped for? What you hope for and what you actually believe are often not the same thing.

When I think about these things, the idea of my body returning to the earth, my mind and soul simply being released and gone- I’m ok with this. I guess you could even say that I believe that; that we return to where we’re from. The earth. It’s cyclic, like so much of the natural world is, and that makes sense to me. But what do I hope for?

I like the idea of reincarnation. Still cyclic and my brain likes that. More than that, I love this thought of all the things we could become, the things we may become part of. So while I can’t yet in my journey bring myself to believe in it, I hope for reincarnation; to be (even part of) something lovely and uplifting.

I think my Uncle T would most definitely come back as something generous, loving, and bright, as he was all of those things.

What do you think is next?

What do you hope is next?

So many thoughts, so many feelings. 💔

White Duvet

White Duvet.pdf. CLICK HERE!

“White Duvet,” an ode to having all our nice things destroyed by kids and pets, and loving them all the more 💛

Monsters at the Mall

MONSTERS AT THE MALL. pdf. CLICK HERE!

Click link for Monsters at the Mall, the most recent of my spooky October poems.

Self Love+Bravery+Trusting your Instincts+MONSTERS= fun poetry for you and your family. Enjoy 🙂

 

DITCH WITCH.

DITCH WITCH HERE! CLICK ME!!!

Click link to open the pdf of Ditch Witch! A fun, spooky poem about love and self acceptance, for you and your kiddies. Enjoy.

“Seasons of Love”

This morning we got up, did the usual morning bustle. I gathered my kids’ bags and lunches and nap pads and water bottles. Purse. Phone. Book. Kids to the car. Feed the animals. And we’re off!

As I pulled out of the drive, a tiny red leaf drifted down and landed on my beat-up Toyota. I’m not sure why, but I felt like I had to get out and snatch it off my hood. It was just too tiny and perfect and red. So I popped out, grabbed it, and gave it to my girls.

I love when September comes. For me, the arrival of September means that Summer is over, even if it doesn’t feel like it. The hottest days are behind me. Soon the sweating will end! It means Starbucks’ pumpkin scones and reverting back to hot, rather than iced, coffee.

For whatever reason, the coming of Autumn is always a pensive time for me. Every year I feel like I find myself stuck in my head for a few weeks. This past week I keep finding myself thumbing through my notebook that I use as a planner and I’m scrolling back over old journal entries. I discovered that last year this week I binge-watched a bunch of grisly horror films on a free, kid-less night. Ha, yes, Fall also means spooky everything. Gotta love that.

Anyhow. We measure our lives using all sorts of handy, if arbitrary, calendars, measurements, cycles. The 12-month calendar. Birthdays. Christmas’. New Years. The School Year (especially for students, parents of students, folks in education jobs). And also the seasons.

This makes me wonder if maybe we just feel like we’re our best selves, or at least closer to being that, in specific places, at specific times. Like people who prefer AM to PM. Summer to Winter. Are inspired by the sea but not so into the forest. And of course, there’s the company of people we love that can help bring out our best. I suppose when we feel most in our element, all those juices, creative or whatever they may be, flow a bit freer and some ritual, whether we’re aware of it or not, emerges whenever we find ourselves in these “happy circumstances.” Evenings coming on us earlier, layers of clothes, hot beverages, cold weather, pumpkins and scary everything…I’m in my element when the Summer ends.

This is what I thought about while driving my kids this morning. These thoughts brought me to scrolling through my phone seeking the wise words of Jonathan Larson, creator of Rent. I cranked up “Seasons of Love.”

Anyone who stumbles on this post, I wish you to find your “happy circumstances;” the people, places, and times that light you up. Tell me, how do you measure your life? Goals? Growth?

Alright, enough. Measure your (life) day in love. 🙂 Have a good one.

 

Thoughts on Motherhood.

“When we cling to the idea of motherhood as sacrifice, what we really sacrifice is our sense of self, as if it is the price we pay for having children.” -Karen Rinaldi

Motherhood Isn’t Sacrifice, It’s Selfishness. NYT. Karen Rinaldi.

I love both this article and the comments (make sure you check those out too). Rinaldi addresses what I believe are some vital and problematic social takes on parenting including: The view of motherhood as martyrdom. The view of motherhood as a priviledge. The muddy mixing of vocabulary like mother, parenthood and “job”. Deep biases in regard to a man’s place in parenting versus a woman’s.

As several commentators elucidate, Rinaldi skims over some important factors that make the call to end the victimizing rhetoric, recognize our privilege, and see that parenting is not a “job,” a challenging task.

First and foremost, not all women are entering the state of motherhood under the same circumstances. Not all woman choose it. And upon coming into parenthood, many women are faced with the challenges of being a single-parent, dealing with the “job” (or not) of mothering a new human, often with financial and other lacking social support. I imagine it’d be hard to feel very privileged in such a circumstance.

The “job” (or not) business. I work for myself. I do not recognize general parameters such as having an employer or even a set list of duties as fair measurements for what does or does not define a “job.”

I think that there tends to be a certain negativity around the word “job” for many people. This is understandable, as it often represents some thing we don’t feel like doing and wish we got more for doing it. Nonetheless, I do consider the rearing of my children a “job” of sorts. Perhaps not in the same way that I carve out time and sit here “working,” but in the way that I plan for their needs to be met day by day, the way I observe who they’re becoming in hopes that I’m not raising little assholes, and in the way that I study myself as an individual and parent. Like a “job,” I “show up,” go through the motions, whether I feel like it or not; Meal times, bedtimes, nap times, playtimes, and all those in-betweens where your child is seeking your presence. This is especially true with young children. Just because you’re not paid, because like a “normal job” it’s not always enjoyable, doesn’t mean it’s not your duty. For me, while it is one I do my best to approach with love and a healthy dose of kindness (to myself and my kids) it is a job.

SO. Upon reading Rinaldi’s words and many thought-provoking comments, I find myself searching for a grey area…is there something that we can all take from this? With societal biases that we will continue to push against, and wild injustice throughout the world in regard to women’s rights with their bodies, reproduction, and the lives they are then responsible for, I wonder if asking women, mothers, to see themselves as privileged is simply asking too much? There is a huge grey area between being a victim and being privileged. I imagine that all parents, whatever your circumstances, could benefit, as might our children, if we abandon views of ourselves as victims. This does not mean that we turn a blind eye to injustice or become stagnant in it’s wake. Rather, the call to unvictimization (nope, that’s not a real word) allows us the privilege of shedding burdens we’ve come to define ourselves by, burdens and self-perspectives we often pass on to our children, and instead pass on resilience and strength, giving the next generation tools to further fight the injustices and bias’ that us parenting folks won’t see end in our lives. That, while perhaps a doe-eyed, idealistic vision, is something that I can get behind. On that, I applaud Rinaldi.

Exit mobile version
%%footer%%