Compartmentalizing Life

Compartmentalizing Life

For the last decade I’ve compartmentalized life. I was this and I was that. I did this and I did that. During my yoga teaching years, I led a double life. No, I wasn’t a spy and I didn’t cheat on my husband. I was a yoga teacher and I was also a digital media professional. The two ‘lives’ required very different skills. Constantly exercising right brain-left brain interchange was exhausting; I only hope it kept my mind young and pliable. Now that I’m rarely teaching, life feels settled. There is less ‘reporter by day, superhero by night,’ except with respect to writing. I write for work. I write for self. I write for others. Yet everything that comes out is all me. It’s a culmination of my thoughts, feelings, knowledge and life experience. These days, I simply identify as a writer. It’s what I’ve always done. It’s who I’ve always been. Yet I continue to cling to the yoga teacher title. Am I upholding some grandiose sense of self importance? Do I feel that title sets me apart? I haven’t taught in over a year and I don’t plan to anytime soon. My teaching is through writing, and I’m rarely writing about yoga. It’s part of me. It’s a lens in which I view the world, but there is so much more. I am human and I write about being human. I have more questions than answers. I am recognizing that this label doesn’t help me become more human. I am recognizing that labels divide and categorize, and while they can be useful, they can also cause detriment. With all...
My Name as a Poem

My Name as a Poem

“Creativity takes courage. ” Henri Matisse Writing Prompt: write an acrostic, a poem, word puzzle, or other composition in which certain letters in each line form a word or words happy, whole, healthy, grateful, loving, kind: words i wish to use to describe me except it’s not the whole truth: pain, shame, jealousy, revenge, spite. these ugly words represent as much. all that is present is evolution; i’m thankful. hiding. showing up. shrinking. shining. beaming. glowing. see what I did there? landing on the beauty? life is ephemeral. impermanent. ever changing. flowing. moving. we express our aliveness by living in our truth, by being real. Your turn. What kind of acrostic will you come up with using your name (or any other word you...
A Melancholy Monday

A Melancholy Monday

“Journal writing is a voyage to the interior.” Christina Baldwin I would not be the person I am without my journaling practice. It is the greatest act of self care I regularly participate in. Through it I’ve witnessed how draining sadness is AND how quickly it moves through. Sadness feels suffocating, like it will never end when we’re in the midst of it, but if we are able to watch our thoughts, maybe even learn to change them, the sadness fades and transforms into something else. I’m a bit sad today. I’ve noticed patterns through my journaling practice. Mondays are often melancholy. Today my focus is a relationship that needs great repair. I’m kinda making myself crazy trying to figure out how to make it right. For now I need to let it go. My writing coach sent a prompt related to self care. She also sent this article which provides excellent tiny self care acts, things you can do in a few free minutes. I am partaking in some today. Tiny Promises to Myself this Week (that I hope have big impact) This week I will attend to my mind by journaling each time I have a situation that’s making me upset, crazy, sad, mad or generally uneasy. I will breathe and let things go. This week I will attend to my body by moving in nature at least four days. This week I will attend to my spirit by centering myself each day: breath work, writing practice, gentle movement, spiritual reading. Have a beautiful week all! Photo by Pineapple Supply Co. on...
A Quiet Friday Night

A Quiet Friday Night

It’s Friday night; I’m home after a long day. I traveled to Holmes County today, ran work errands, caught up on email, then got things together for tomorrow’s event. I’m finally sitting down to write, sip wine, and enjoy the quiet. I stop, ponder the moment, marvel at how I got here without even noticing it. I’m not referring to how I physically got here today. I’m talking about how I got here, in life. As I sit in a mostly noiseless house, I listen to the fridge hum and the dogs snore. I recognize that I’m in a totally different place than just five years ago — physically, mentally, spiritually. M was thirteen. We were busy all the time. And when we weren’t running for sports, school functions, and young teen hangouts, we were gathering with friends with kids in tow. Friday nights these days aren’t like they used to be. I don’t mind it, but there is some nostalgia and angst in looking back. I’m settled. It feels nice. It occurs to me that I’m becoming my mom. I never thought I’d become her, and while I’m different in many ways, I never considered I’d be anything like her. (It’s not a bad thing. I just didn’t consider it.) I’m a homebody who prefers reading over most other activities, just like my mom. Maybe it’s that way for all of us. We don’t notice the way life moves, day by day. Suddenly we simply ‘arrive.’ Of course it’s been happening all along, but when life is busy, it’s hard to reflect. It’s hard to clearly see. What happens next? Will...