Yoga Talks: Stepping onto a path of the unknown and welcoming utter imperfection

yoga

Last winter, a sudden shift left me analysing my life path in its entirety. Although I was grateful that the soil I had been tending to had managed to grow some roots strong enough to keep both feet planted firmly, I still felt as if my purpose was disoriented. I thought to myself, ‘what on earth are you doing, honestly?’. Whilst all of the average life requirements were comfortably being met, the pleasure and contentment seemed to be absent and I’d unknowingly traded my passions to be able to operate in survival mode – hello fight or flight, my old friend. I’d poured all of my life energy into a relationship that was destined to fail even before it had begun and my happiness was not even with me, it was placed in the undeserving hands of another. I wasn’t disappointed in myself, rather proud. I’d demonstrated an invisible ability to love another soul, erupting from the purest depths of my heart. Now it was time to transfer that adoration for another, back to its rightful owner. Via my Yoga Teacher Training, was I able to do so.

Prior to the YTT, I was not very ‘experienced’ when it came to yoga asana (yoga is considered to be an 8 limbed journey. Yoga asana or ‘posture’ is solely 1 of these 8 limbs). I’d been casually practicing for a couple of years but never with clear intention or discipline – something that I now understand to have such significance over personal development. Of course, during my training, this created the rising of all too familiar insecurities and fears as I managed to fabricate a story which featured a month of 30 yogi experts…and stiff old me. However, I still gripped onto the importance of celebrating my existing strengths and recognising that I would spend a month addressing and improving the weaknesses. The training would be an exploration, not an aim for perfection.

When I stepped onto my mat for my first day of training, I tried my best to manifest an understanding that I was there to better my own journey and life experience. I was not there to compare myself to others who were perhaps ‘further on’ or at a different pitstop on the way. However, in all honesty, I still found it incredibly challenging in the beginning as I continued to evaluate other skill sets within the group.

I thought to myself, considering the intention of yoga is to unify the mind, body and soul, how can I welcome this process if I am busy creating separation and highlighting differences? Thus, through the practice of personal acceptance and recognising that my journey was my own, I began to create space for expansion. Through the creation of this non-judgmental space, a ‘beginner’s mind’ was able to develop.

As a yoga student and teacher, you are taught that the learning process is one that is infinite. The goal is not to reach a destination where our pot of learnings is full. No, we become complete from acknowledging that this process is endless. We will remain humble and wise if we continue to be open to new learnings and alternative point of views. We are forever in a position where we should be curious to learn and explore, ensuring that we keep enough humility to continue to strive for the acquisition of further insight and knowledge.

 

Thought Sharers: I See You

life lessons, relationships

A couple of weeks after it happened, it started to feel less like someone else’s story that I had been living. Every day I noticed a 10-minute burst of normality, of feeling ok. I used this as a reminder that the positive emotions were existing, they were just covered by a smog of soot. I found the numbness was soothing, clearly a defence mechanism to protect the pain from causing too much internal destruction. During this period, I was reminded of how it felt to experience depression. Yet this time, it was welcomed. Speech was not a concept that I was able to explore so I used my writing as a way to document the ever-changing emotions surging through my body at regular intervals.

One evening, as the familiar countryside darkness encompassed the surroundings of the house, feeling too withdrawn to socialise, I decided to stay home whilst my parents had an aperitif. At this moment, my cat decided to fuse the manmade and natural worlds together, dropping a beautiful robin by my feet.

I didn’t know what to do as panic choked my capacity to behave in an appropriate manner. My natural response was to weep, to grieve the bird that lay before me. I couldn’t help but feel that I was mourning the death of other things passing through my existence.

The Robin, a symbol for the loss that I had suffered, demonstrated the selfish pleasure enjoyed at the expense of another.

I felt absolutely helpless and channelled my energy towards the egotistic perpetrator – a character I was all too familiar with. Desperately chasing my cat around the house, I wailed, asking him why he did this, frantic for an answer I could never expect a reply to.

During the chaos that I was prompting, the robin took an impetuous dive over my head, taking cover on top of a cupboard. I stood startled at the tiny bird tucked away in the corner puffing its tiny chest repeatedly, high above any potential threat. As if someone had held up a tiny mirror, all I saw was myself. Wounded, weak, exhausted and not knowing how to call back survival. Yet there was in intrinsic instinct that had been activated.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thought Sharers: We Were Not Love

life lessons, mindfulness, relationships

You both convinced yourselves that it was love that you had for one another. You especially, had to work exceptionally hard at the convincing part. What you gave me was not love. I am not sure what it was – ego driven behaviour projected in a desperate bid to avoid disturbing the status quo and facing what you truly were. No, not in this lifetime.

Love for another cannot be fuelled by aggression or intimidation. It doesn’t manipulate in its moments of weakness, desperate to remain in control. Love has such a power that it overrides frequency lowering behaviours. It doesn’t ride with the ego, for that is not possible as love and ego cannot cohabit. Ego will always selfishly take up the most space in a romantic relationship, through fear of its own extinction. Ego driven romance shall always have lack of security in its foundation. That kind of ‘love’ is totally shakeable. That ‘love’ is at risk of significant damage and the ego’s awareness of this leads it to a place of desperation. 

Now it is clear to me and more straightforward to accept, what we had was not love. What I gave to you was not love, but fear. A fear of loss of something that was intended to be lost all along. It was complicated and the waters we swam in were dirtied. From time to time, we managed to swim towards a spot where we could see our toes wiggling through the water – entertained and momentarily distracted. Here we convinced ourselves that we’d found nirvana and what we deemed love, flourished. We’d managed to move downstream from the dirt that had contaminated our ‘love’. Not too long after, we’d notice darker waters flowing towards us – we could no longer see our toes. Ignorant for what was approaching, we managed to convince ourselves that this marathon we were swimming, was normal. The cycle continued, becoming routine until exhaustion came. My body ached as I constantly swam from the fear. We were no longer treading water, we were drowning but you were holding me under.

Surrounded by contaminated waters, we could no longer deny the loss. The death of a love that never existed.

Control and Surrender

life lessons, mental health, mindfulness, spirituality

Our brain has a clear purpose. It has highly complex functions that allow us to maintain some form of control over our lives and over our ability to make decisions. We desperately need these elements of control and restraint in order to make ‘good’ decisions. Without these functions, our day-to-day would end up totally structureless and would most likely lack any clear orientation. Simple, menial tasks would transform into those which would require high levels of focus, resulting in long completion times (and inevitable frustration). Getting through the day would simply be chaotic as we would not have the ability to make decisions. On the other hand, perhaps this consequence would lead us to a new realm of enjoyment and exploration, without feeling like we have an end task or goal that needs to be reached. We might even enjoy the journey.

Surrendering to a lack of control could in fact lead us down a more freeing, playful avenue. Why is control deemed as a positive force if it encourages us to be more rigid and exist in such a linear manner? Whilst, in our fast paced, highly adaptive society, having control is deemed as favourable. If one has control in their possession, they are more likely to be respected as they achieve more socially acceptable goals. They may be able to predict their coming future, based on the way they’ve structured their base. Life might feel tidy and the element of pleasant surprise is removed. However, along with that, any unpredictable pleasant surprise, dies.

Surrendering to a lack of control could invite openness to live in your life. It could create a habitat for open energy, encouraging your shoulders to come down from your ears, your ass cheeks to unclench and your jaw to relax – giving the muscles their job back. ‘Giving in’ can feel lighter and create space for a perspective which deems all paths as possibilities for opportunity, rather than ‘right’ or ‘wrong’. At the end of each path, lies a lesson to be learnt. Whilst upon the path, the structureless existence which you go by, might feel regretful as you beg structure and predictability back into your life. However, this is usually when something magical begins to manifest and everything aligns. All you need to do in aiding this transition is to surrender the control, give in and know that it is not failing, it is mastering.

The Impermanence of Emotions

health, life lessons, mental health, spirituality, writing

I like to remind myself on a weekly basis that I am insignificant and impermanent. Some might call this reasonably pessimistic or even a depressing way to live, but I encourage those people to humbly flip the concept on its head. We as human beings can often have an egocentric idea that we are existing in solitary on this planet – as if we are the only individuals who stroll the streets with our unique tales weighing on our shoulders, feet dragging and skeleton struggling to simply do its job.

In my opinion, (there are so many today, who cares anyway) it is important to remind ourselves of how simply insignificant we truly are. Yes, we are also significant in many ways (especially in our ways of damaging this wonder-filled planet or in the way we can so effortlessly harm other living beings). The point is, we are also all dying. One day we simply won’t be here. Thus, by reminding myself of this undeniable fact, it also encourages me (occasionally) to be a little looser about things. Right now, that focus in letting go, is placed with my emotions.

I am someone who takes shit very seriously. Uptight would be an appropriate way to describe me if you are someone who enjoys labels. However, this is also an element of myself that I am gently trying to knead out of the dough that formulates my thoughts. Why should one hold on to something that doesn’t want to hold on to them? Emotions don’t want to set up camp, they don’t favour familiarity, they simply want to come and go as they please – that is something that we as human beings are not always great in accepting: so much in our lives is temporary, especially when it comes to feelings.

Emotions are the epitome of impermanence. Why are we so blind to acknowledge and accept that? Where does this inherit stubbornness originate from, especially when it comes to letting go of painful emotions?

According to Tony Robins (a wonderfully mental life guru), we hold onto our painful emotions because they are familiar. Human beings are not the best in dealing with uncertainty and change. Thus, the pain from the past serves us in a way that it is familiar and opposite to the unknown, something new or different – it is comforting. Whilst letting go can release you from this pain, it liberates you into a space of the unknown which can be daunting and confronting.

Ask yourself why you hold onto past emotions and identify how they no longer serve you. Perhaps you can attempt to clear some of the fog that sits in front of your view. Start by setting yourself clear, weekly goals for what you would like to change and write down what your life would look like, should you achieve these goals. Visualise and attract the vision you deserve and let go of what no longer has a purpose taking space in your life.

Don’t ask that the emotions simply go away, ask them why they are there and talk to them. Sit in it all for a while and when you are ready tell them to leave.

Change and Transformation

life lessons, mental health, writing

Often, we loathe it, mostly we fear it and for the best part, we do our best to deny its looming existence in our lives. However, funnily enough it can have the most profound affect on our being. It’s force alone can transform the unthinkable and revolutionise our existence. So, if this is all old news, why do we fear change so much?

Naturally, we don’t like change and one of the reasons could be due to the fear of the uncertainty of a situation – we cannot anticipate what is coming and that can generate anxiety. We are creatures of habit, creatures who enjoy being able to prepare for the future. What we often fail to initially realise is also how flexible we can be when faced with new situations. So, those sometimes cliché sayings that we are used to passively exchanging in retaliation to other’s adversity, do have some profound meaning because they are true if you hold enough faith: everything is going to be ok, don’t worry it will all be fine, everything is going to work out for the best, alles komt goed. 

Change enables us to grow, as well as helping to develop our sense of self, through the challenges we may encounter on the way. Change can also lead to increased self-esteem once we recognize that we are flexible and easily adaptable beings. Unexpected changes are great for personal development as the wounds we may sustain during these testing times, eventually heal, strengthening our self-belief of self and life in general. Finally, change creates a highly adaptable internal environment, resulting in less freak outs with every new scenario we encounter.

Yes, we need most change and it is inevitable. If we do not experience any change, we run the risk of living in a stale state, maintaining stale relationships or simply accommodating stale experiences. A simple yet effective example can be seen in the wonderful book ‘who moved my cheese?’ by Spencer Johnson. The short, simplistic depiction helps to highlight that our denial of change and building of a life that denies its existence, will only cut ourselves off from having the crucial skills required for survival. By clutching eagerly onto our comfortable and familiar lives, we will only make it harder for ourselves once we are confronted with change.

That is not to say that dealing with change is uncomplicated. I for one struggle when initially dealing with a new situation of any kind. ‘Newness’ highlights my weaknesses and sheds too strong of a light on my flaws. However, to undergo metamorphosis there must be a struggle of some kind in order to truly awaken again.

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Do you have tips for dealing with change? Asking for a friend.

Mental Health Talks: Using Technology to Aid Mental Recovery

mental health, writing

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As someone who places a lot of importance on spirituality in the healing process, I was reluctant to utilise the support of technology in my own recovery. However, after discovering an incredibly refreshing app, I was enlightened in understanding how technological thinking doesn’t always have to have an ulterior motive.

I first began to sense that things were not going so well for me, when I became familiar with the dooming sensation associated with anxiety attacks. The crushing feeling progressively surfaced during work meetings, when I was commuting, whilst in places I couldn’t leave without other people noticing, social situations or simply before I fell asleep at night. The drive for my job promptly depleted and I couldn’t seem to see through the vague cloud of fog encompassing my thoughts and whole existence. Everything that made up my judgements, appeared to be empty, soulless and meaningless.

The utterance of burnout seemed ridiculous at first. From what I’d experienced around me, burnouts were serious and considerably more debilitating then what I was going through. However, when I made the decision to inform my employer that I wasn’t doing too well and I was going to take some time off as a result, it solidified the fact that I needed proper support. What surprised me, was the fact that I wasn’t even able to worry about the shame that I had preempted myself to feel, when asking for this help – frankly put: I could not feel. One thing that was clear: my brain begged for a mental check out. My own capability of understanding mental illness was frozen and I needed help.

During this time, I came across an article that shared ‘the best apps to aid mental illness’. The article suggested an app known as Stigmato gently aid users throughout their mental health struggles.

Stigma, allows you to record your mood every day via a simple, clean cut app. The user-friendly, basic interface allows you to rate your feelings using a list of descriptive words i.e. anxious, sad, ok, calm, happy (which is then colour coded in your monthly overview). If the ratings are too simplistic, you can add your diary entry below. Stigma, also offers a community of peers who may be suffering from mental illness and silently searching for someone to share with. This peer group helps to empahsise that you are never alone in the struggle. As mental health sufferers will know, at times, encouragement and discussion from others who have suffered or are suffering, can be significantly more relatable then talking to friends or family.

The wonderful thing about stigma is the fact that it essentially provides you with an illuminating overview of your moods from the previous days, weeks and months. The app encouraged me to take a step back from my naturally negative or destructive thinking patterns. I became motivated when I saw the green boxes increasing (signifying ‘good mood’ days) and when I noticed the red boxes returning (‘bad mood’ days), I would rationally asses that day at another date, trying to avoid disappointment or placing judgment on myself.

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An example of the Stigma interface

Often, when you are having a dip and your mood only allows for heaviness and darkness, it becomes increasingly more challenging to remember the enjoyable times –  and if you are succeptible, this can effect your entire outlook on life. It becomes almost impossible to remind yourself of the great Friday night you had with your friends where you laughed once – making you feel alive, or the Sunday morning when you awoke feeling less heavy – giving you a moment to catch your breath or the lovely book which took you out of this world for a short while. It is important to remind yourself of the little accomplishments, especially when you are going through something testing and unknown. Stigma enables you to do that – it brings you back to the present and this feels incredibly rewarding.

Tracking and reflecting on your moods and behaviors can be highly productive on your own path towards mental healing. I highly encourage it if you desire a more present and meaningful life – especially one in which you wish to take charge of your own moods.

The greatest reward: seeing your first month filled with only green blocks and clicking through each day, gently reminding yourself of some mentally strong and fulfilling days that did occur – eventually, allowing you to gradually turn your back on the darkness, inviting the light into your life.

 

Mindfulness Talks: Escaping vs Embracing

life lessons, mental health, spirituality

 

Most of us are familiar with that feeling of living for the weekend in order to turn our back on the demanding days that have passed or craving an impending festival in order to truly let loose and shake off the stress of modern living. This idea has lead me to question the relationship that we have with escaping our daily routine. Could it be that we are damaging our attempts at conscious living, in order to simply blow off steam? Is there such thing as conscious escapism?

It can be argued that escapism is to seek relief from unpleasant realities, often through entertainment or fantasy. According to Longeway, escapism becomes damaging once the individual avoids awareness of the ‘issues’ or beliefs at hand. Escapism through entertainment has an intention to draw us away from our everyday predicaments. There is a danger that we can get caught up in the fantasy of our life being better than it really is (which could be a paradox considering it is a concept based on our own interpretation and understanding). As human beings, we often escape in different ways dependent on our personal interests. For example: reading, listening to music, completing a crossword or puzzle, going on vacation, doing daily yoga, all the way to becoming comatose in front of the television, playing computer games and taking drugs. Who is to say, that one is more damaging than the other if the same purpose is being fulfilled?

Escapism is not inherently negative. The perception however, is negative. This is ironic considering most of us indulge in escapist behavior on a regular basis. Longeway argues that if we are of course to deny that something is true (health issues for example), escapism can be damaging and deceiving. Thus, a little scale becomes visible. If we don’t fool ourselves into avoiding confronting issues and we do not deny something is there, then we can move towards acknowledgement of what lies within us – becoming more conscious. There are logical reasons why one may want to escape, but it is important to remind oneself not to use escape as a coping mechanism. Here an unhealthy habit can develop. But, it does seem logical and healthy to drop out every now and then – like a system re-boot.

Let’s place yoga into the spotlight – my favourite hobby when I need to float to a happy cloud, soaring above my anxious thoughts. The sensation that I experience after yoga is very tranquil and calm, to the point where most things don’t really matter in the moments that follow. Each time I plan a class, I feel a little tingle in my belly and this continues on until I step on the mat – I am immediately transported into another zone. I crave this feeling and I follow it around. For me, yoga and meditation is certainly a form of escape. However, when practicing, we are continuously encouraged to be as present and conscious as possible. Furthermore, if we have pain, issues or problems, rather than labeling them, we are encouraged to acknowledge them and continue on – calming confronting what is occurring. When practicing, we are taught not to deny emotions but to embrace them whatever they may be and however they may arise. Thus, the whole time that we are escaping during yoga, we are holding the hand of our demons and essentially confronting them.

If we then analyse escapism through taking drugs, the process can alternate and present varying benefits compared to taking a yoga class, but the underlying importance is still on balance. Perhaps escapism through taking drugs could lead you further away from confronting what it is that you are indeed temporality running from – but who is to say that this is detrimental or wrong?

 Whilst too much of this fleeing behavior can lead you away from significant personal goals or even hinder your productivity, not enough can result in excessive levels of stress and even burn out. Ultimately, escapism provides your brain with the coping skills for understanding heavy emotions and pressured situations – without it, we would likely crumble. Thus, it is crucial to think of escapism as an activity that is neither positive or negative but as an activity that requires monitoring and careful practice. Perhaps the use of the word is also outdated and if we simply re-label it to ‘re-fueling’, ‘re-charging’ or ‘de-compressing’, our whole outlook could be transported to an alternative space.

 

Mindfulness Talks: Meditation. A very continuous journey on the road to somewhere

life lessons, mental health, spirituality

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It’s been around 5/6 weeks since I set myself the task of meditating every single day. My key goal was to commit myself to actively participating in something that was only beneficial for me, for at least 5 minutes a day. This seems painfully straight forward, but you’ll be surprised at how difficult it is to withdraw from your surroundings for 5 simple minutes. In these moments when I momentarily stepped away from my daily doings, I temporarily experienced an increase in my anxiety – I had to step back from ‘keeping life in check’ for those moments when I was meditating. I was convinced that I would lose control of my reality if I wasn’t constantly monitoring what was occurring around me. Eventually, I made it a forceful priority to take that step back, to see what happened if I did indeed lose control. After returning to my life following the short 5 minute break, I was of course pleasantly surprised to see everything still in its place around me.

Prior to mediation, my mind was awash with too many stimuli, to the point where I felt very disconnected with myself and my soul purpose on this planet. My anxiety was at an all time high and to say that I felt like a stranger to myself would be considerably apt. The thing that concerned me now that I reflect on it, was how well I managed to hide my true self from those with whom I interacted with on a daily basis – I had become a pro at having two personas. To me, it even felt like a strength if I was able to hide how chaotic my thoughts really were.

Once I started becoming familiar with the habit of meditating, I scouted the help of an app – Insight Timer. At first, I was resilient in allowing technology to help with something that I considered to be so delicate and pure. I felt I would be insulting the practice if I couldn’t do it from the authenticity of my heart alone. However, I shortly realised that there is no point in pretending to be a master of a trade when you have just started gathering the tools. Especially with meditation, there is no one to fool but yourself, you may as well start getting brutally honest – otherwise you will never grow.  Not surprisingly, the app enabled me to stay on track, as well as pinpoint the topic of stress for that day – which is very helpful when you are already feeling so ungrounded. Plus, a guiding voice can feel ever so supporting and slightly more elevating than when you are doing it alone.

So, what have I gained?

The beautiful thing about about mediation is that it can provide you with a realistic feeling of optimism, one you can trust. The feeling of peace that we often experience after meditating, comes from our inner selves – from us and nothing else – that is especially powerful.  It is up to us and only us, to maintain that snippet of an uplifting sensation and we must do this by continuing to practice. For sufferers of mental illness, the feeling of powerlessness is an all too familiar one. Thus, meditation is unique because it provides you with the instruments to create your own strength and contribute to the start of your own healing.

Meditation has not healed me and I believe that due to the mechanics of my brain, I never shall be completely ‘healed’ – but it is certainly playing an increasingly important role in my life – releasing internal pressure when I am unable to recognise how to do so myself.

If I was to summarise one thing that mediation has provided me with, it would be an outlet. An outlet for a very continuous journey, on the road to somewhere.  The effects are subtle and gentle, but they are noticeable. That is enough for me to keep going, to keep taking those moments, to ground myself and come home to myself – even if only for a split second.

 

Mindfulness Talks: Meditation. You only miss a good thing when it’s gone

mental health, spirituality, writing
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Credit: Pintrest

I sometimes feel that when the word ‘meditation’ is dropped into conversation, it can fall victim to many stereotypical associations: hippy, floater, dreamer, wanderer – or any word that can be coupled with the opposite sensation to being grounded or in control. With a fear of bystanders being misled by these prejudices, I can often become irritated by these conversations.

Simply meditating doesn’t imply that you are ready to descend to another spiritual realm, in preparation for a significant awakening. It can mean many things, but for most it’s simply a method to gain more inner calm and understanding of oneself. The ironic thing is, if I was to analyse my mind before I started meditation, it was more out of control and less grounded than ever before. The stresses, expectations and pressures of modern life, had really started to take a toll upon my mental health. I realised, I’d been forcefully swallowing my worries like they were sick-burps – each time, pushing harder to keep them down. When the stress eventually bubbled up to the surface, I would freak out, suffer momentarily and then dust it off feeling like I’d achieved something. This was naïve.

Around 3weeks ago, I began meditating every single day. I made this commitment to myself in order to see if I could transform my ‘naturally’ negative and anxious head space. It had gotten to a point where I felt vulnerable as a result of my own emotional outbursts. I would wake in the night gasping for air, my hair was falling out and I felt eternally restless in my headspace, victim to eternal mind chatter – it was and sometimes still is, pretty torturous.

In the first 2.5 weeks, I think I missed around 3 or 4 sessions and I felt it – in fact, ‘missed’ being the imperative word here, I missed them. And you do start to notice the reassuring ‘buzz’ fades away after you’ve neglected the practice a couple of times.

The greatest indicator that the meditation had helped me, was how I often fell asleep. I began to notice that I could fall asleep without even thinking about the day that had passed or the night that was ahead – there was nothing on my mind. That was until, I hit week 3. The stresses of work became embedded, deep in my stomach and I lay awake until 4am. I tried multiple mediation sessions one evening, until I eventually fell asleep. However, this burst my bubble – meditation wasn’t able to rescue me or melt me into sleep as I had hoped, grazing over my mind chatter. It had seemingly ‘failed’.

Initially, I felt that this hiccup had diminished all of my meditation progress that I had built up – wiping my slate with a dirty cloth. That was until I realized that it was one hiccup. After I’d been used to having so many hiccups, especially during the night time, one hiccup had to be a victory. Surely.