Overwhelmentizationizing...

That's right, even the word overwhelmed is not overwhelming enough for this post.  Take that, dictionary.

First of all, just to be clear...I realize that I have nothing to complain about in this department.  I do not work three or more unfulfilling minimum wage jobs.  I do not have children or pets to take care of.  I do not have one of those lives where sometimes I have to be up for 18 hours in a row and then just come home and catch a few hours of sleep before I get up and do it all over again.  I do not have to do any of these things, and anyone who DOES have to do any of these things, if you're reading this, I suggest you turn off this blog right away and go take a nap, for god's sake!

Anyhoo...for a lady who doesn't really have much (comparatively) weighing on her in the responsibility department, I sure am feeling full up with to-do lists and futurizing. (wedding, wedding, wedding, yoga, yoga, yoga, blog, blog, blog).  Though even for all my busy-ness I still have at least an hour or two during the day, everyday, where I'm just sort of aimlessly wandering around my apartment, trying to decide what the "best" thing to do next might be.

(All too often it ends up being green tea and Hulu, but that's another story.)

Are there people in the world who don't have this problem?

Yes, Lia...please open your edition of "people who have changed the world" to any page and point to...anyone.  Yes, that's right, ALL of those people knew how to effectively time-manage.  (Also, Will Smith.  I'm pretty sure Will Smith is, like, busy all day long making things generally better and more expensive in the world.)

Sigh.  Will...I've let you down, once again.

But, okay, here's the deal...the reason that overwhelmment is so, well...overwhelming, is because it's the by-product of one (me) trying to do something (by doing everything, all at once) that is actually physically impossible.

I'm no scientist, but I do know the following:

It is NOT possible to be somewhere other than where you are.

It is NOT possible to exist in the past and/or the future.  Period.  Not possible, folks.

It is NOT possible to do more than one thing at a time.*

*a short dialogue on why this is true even if you think it's not:

Me: oooh, beg to differ, do you?  

Other Me: yes, indeed i do.  for instance, what if I'm listening to the radio and, you know, washing the dishes...that's doing two things at the same time. 

Me: well, actually...that's doing two things alternately, back and forth, in short intervals...but most likely, you're sort of coming in and out of listening to the radio as you come in and out of washing the dishes. most likely you're not actually doing those two things at once, in the same instance.

Other Me: oh, hmm.

Me: it's a common mistake. 

So, it makes sense that when we try to bend the laws of physics...we might get a little cranky.

And it's in these moments where a yoga practice becomes actual and dynamic and useful in one's real-life life.  Namaste, y'all.  Because, even if you come into a yoga class with your motor revved to high-gear, and your list of plans circling wildly through your head, the perfect storm of the class--which is the combined impact of the attention to the breath, the movement of the body, and the persistance of the teacher reminding you to pay attention--will (or should) ultimately sloooooooow you down.  You might be resistant at first.  You might think, no, wait...what's going to happen to me if I'm not keeping track of all this stuff?!  But eventually that list of yours will be forcibly pulled from your hand and you'll be left with just...what's actually there.

Your breath.
Your body.
The feel of the air against your face.

And that's it.  (Because that's always it.)  As I write this, I am thinking that I have all kinds of things...I think that I have a wedding to plan and a class to teach and a fiance driving home to me, but really, when I look around, what do I have?  (Deep breath.) My breath.  My body.  The feel of the keys under my fingers.  That little crink in my neck.  The sound of some birds outside.

And that's it.

Which doesn't mean that all those other things aren't real, and certainly doesn't mean that I'm preaching presence as an escape hatch to get away from all the various things that lift us up or press us down, but just simply that in order to even begin to be with those things, in order to even begin to be able to handle/accomplish/love these things in our lives.  There has to be space for them.

So, Shanti-towners...if you can just take a minute, right now...as soon as you're done reading this...if you can just take a minute to close your eyes and take one simple uninterrupted breath, two things might happen. A. You might just have become a yogi, and B. you might suddenly have more space in which to perform all of your requisite duties.

I for one am off to go wash some dishes (and listen to some NPR)...please don't tell Will Smith.

Contradictions, baby.

Early on it becomes clear that yoga is a practice of contradictions, the largest one being, (among many others such as "root down and lift up", "curl in and open", "do this unbearably hard thing and breathe slooooowly"), that one must be Strong and also Soft.

I have been thinking a lot about this contradiction as it applies to my own life...

Early on in the LA-chapter of my practice one of my teachers talked about how visible it was in a person's practice what side of this equation they fell on: the uber-open-hearted, whose practice is loose and graceful but also sort of jelly-like and therefore wide-open for injury, and in the other corner, the rigid rule-adherer, whose practice sparkles technically but lacks that OOMPH of joy and soft-heartedness. He said that neither of these are ideal on their own, but both must be present in the practice. Things need to be strong and lined up and active, but the center must, must, must be soft.

Artists know this, instinctually. I know this as an actress--that there is a sort of sweet-spot right in the middle where preparation and hard-work meet up with in-the-moment ALIVE-ness--wherein the performance just lights up. I understand this as an artist--I still struggle with sometimes allowing myself to soften, but I understand it.

In my life, however, I find this contradiction totally f-ing confusing.

(excuse my language)

How, how, how am I supposed to be driven and be focused and have a vision of what I want and go after it and never say die and just like Will Smith my way into success AND be present and be open and "go with the flow"?!? (um, I'm not really sure about the Will Smith reference...I think I watched some bio of him at some point where he seemed all "I will manifest my dreams" ish.)

This is sort of a rhetorical question (sort of), but I have so often felt that I yo-yo between two poles: either completely engaged in a kind of "hustle", doing and doing and doing, OR throwing my hands up in the air, pledging to "just be", and spending way too much time journaling.

Neither is comfortable.

Neither is fruitful.

And, neither lasts.

So I know that there is an in-between point. I know that there is a sweet-spot, where both things exist...I have yet to FIND it, but I know that it exists. That isn't entirely true of course...it's there when it's there. It's there when I'm engaged in what I'm doing without being worried about the outcome of what I'm doing.

Let me say that again:  It's there when I'm engaged in what I'm doing without being worried about the outcome of what I'm doing.

As soon as I start to ask, "is this enough?", it's gone. As soon as I start to ask, "am I doing this right?", it's gone. As soon as I start to ask, "is there something else I'm supposed to be doing?", it's gone. And so I'm beginning to learn that the contradiction IS it. The pose is not one or the other, not soft or strong, it's both. And likewise my life can not be just effort or just ease--it must be both.

Root down and lift up.

Curl in and open.

Engage and release.

Inhale and exhale.

Inhale.

and

Exhale.