Challenge Denied

I started a 30 Day Journal Challenge (insert adorable little bitmoji with eyes rolling).  I never should've have ventured into these waters with the attitude that I brought with me (as evidenced by the eyes rolling). From Day One I fought it. I didn’t like the prompts; they were too corny, too forced, too psycho-babbley. I didn’t like the seemingly threatening emails that were in my mailbox every morning guilting me into dropping everything in order to write. (Ya, that was all me with the guilting thing). The notion of sitting down to journal hung over my head all day until finally I would just sit down and hastily complete the task at hand. Fine. I’ll just do it!  

That is really not the right way to approach a 30 Day Journal Challenge. I seem to have an unhealthy, if not dysfunctional problem with challenges. So, if anything, this whole thing got me thinking about THAT. Thinking about challenges in general. Here’s what I learned.

Challenges come with different…shall I say, challenges? For the most part, people think of challenges as something to strengthen your character. They're something to face, and then subsequently overcome, thus generally making you a better person; the elusive diploma, the much deserved job promotion, the completed marathon, the clean and sober slate. More often than not, challenges are an opportunity to grow, or evolve. They can open up your soul so completely that the only thing left is to drop to your knees in awe and gratitude. Challenges such as these are amazing…Unless they aren’t.

The double-edged sword with challenges, at least for me, is when they take the tone of a dare or provocation. And all too often, I let that happen. I blame DNA.  Ok, no - there is no blame here, just awareness. (Spoken like a true yogi). I am aware that I seem to have a deep seated compulsion toward competitiveness. It served me well as an athlete. The drive and commitment resulted in success on the court, but all too often it could turn ugly. Just ask my tennis friend who accused me of “opening up a can of whoop-ass” on her one day to the point of moral exhaustion and defeat. Eventually, I relinquished competitive sports in the name of sanity ( and friendship). It initially started as a need to recover from injury, but eventually I fessed up to the fact that a competitive spirit was just not serving me well anymore. The challenge to defeat someone had superseded the challenge to simply play. 

So, back to this journaling challenge, and the ugly turn it took. After the first day I felt the competitiveness rising in me as I felt challenged to not back down…to not fail. Then I got angry and accusatory. That same feeling of when a terrible call is made by a ref, or an opponent on the tennis court calls a ball out that was so obviously (in my opinion) in. This was not a good feeling to have when simply playing along with a well-intentioned challenge. I sat back. I took a deep breath. I recognized it. And then I breathed some more. A lot more. And I thanked whatever it was, whoever it was , or however it was that I landed on this journey of awareness that might still be eluding me if it hadn't been for a silly little yoga class at the J…and some pretty awesome DNA.

As the season of challenges approaches with the start of a new year, and all kinds of recommendations for how to improve your life start glaring at you with no mercy, stay mindful. If a challenge is calling to you, approach with awareness.  What is your true desired outcome? What pitfalls lie ahead, and how will you handle them?   If you tend toward the “I will take you down” attitude, can you change it to the “I will rise up” one?  Whatever the outcome, trust the process. And always…ALWAYS…breathe.

Trust the Process

Trust the Process

When I first began practicing yoga, the epiphanies came fast and furious. It was all so new. I was hearing ideas that I’d never heard before. I was hearing music I’d never heard before. I was moving in ways I’d never moved before. But mostly, I was finding a peaceful contentment that I hadn’t felt before… let alone anticipated…or was even looking for. I was on a path that felt true, and I did not want the journey to end. And I now know that it never will. 

If anyone had told me 20+ years ago that one day I would 1) be a yoga teacher, 2) own a yoga studio, or 3) be in business with my daughter, I would have 1) sneered a derisive sneer, 2) shrieked with laughter, and 3) taken another sip of my beer. It’s not that I am not a candidate for such titles, it’s simply that I had never imagined it, let alone aspired to such. Yet here I am. After putting one foot in front of the other, this is where I am. After taking to my mat, learning to breathe, and turning inward, this is blessedly, thankfully where I am. And I have my first teacher to thank for that, as the one phrase that she often repeated became my mantra: Trust the process.

It is said that “yoga is a journey of the self, through the self, to the self”.  There should be an asterisk at the end that notes, “…and it’s going to simultaneously rock your world, amaze you, frighten you, baffle you, and open your heart in ways you’d never imagined. But trust the process, because it is so worth it.”  

Many of you are just beginning your yoga journey. Some have been at it for long enough to sagely nod your head in agreement of that previous quote. Wherever you are on the path, whether you practice once a week, or hit your mat every morning at 5:00 am, you are on the path. And whether you “feel all the feels” all the time is inconsequential. Once you have set foot on your mat, you are on the path. And everything that happens from that point on is part of the process. 

It’s not always easy to see the process working. You might feel a little stronger after having committed to a power/flow class once a week, and actually stuck to it. And maybe you felt a little pat on your back as you found yourself taking deep breaths while waiting patiently for the stoplight to change.  I’ll never forget the first time I picked up a spider and returned it to it’s more appropriate environment outside, as opposed to stomping it to a heartless death in my kitchen. I did NOT see that coming. The subtle process at work. 

So, wherever you are on your journey, know that there will be twists and turns, mind-boggling surprises, and possibilities that are endless. Perhaps the words I share in this, and future posts about my yoga journey will support you on yours, and make you think, make you smile, or make you shake your head. Who knows?  Just like you, I’m putting one foot in front of the other.  Enjoy the ride, yogis. Stay on your mat, open your heart, and by all means, trust the process.