Through the bottle neck of frustration and into understanding.

This is my favorite part. The deadline is near, the training is intense. The opportunities for lessons learned are everywhere. The vehicle to those lessons is the skiing. But the lessons learned are all round the skiing.

I have been working on something specific, trying to make a change in my skiing that is appantly really hard for me to make. It's been three months of work to try to deepen my understanding.

I really enjoy this part of the learning process, and I was lucky enough to have about three weeks of dedicated training in which to diagnose the problem, train towards changing the movement, check my understanding, refocus my diagnosis, refine the movement. This meant drilling at slow speeds on groomed easy runs, which for me is the fun part! Yay!

This movement pattern is important, fundamental, and I didn't want to take it off piste or in the bumps until I had made, and kept to some extent, this change in my skiing. I kept bumping into the opportunity to see if I could stick with it.

So the fun part for me is learning to enjoy the bottleneck. When the movement isnt changing. Or when ive felt the change, but I can't keep it for some reason. It's like walking into a wall over and over again. And you want the change, and you've put the time in, and you've been so disciplined about sticking with no other thought in your skiing other than this one singular piece.

You have digested it, turned it over and inside out, broken it down into pieces and put it back into its whole again. And you can't own it. And you have a choice. You can say, screw it, this is frustrating, I need to blow out the cobwebs, or I'm going home, or I want to play in the bumps. Or, you can find a creative way to back off but stay with the thought.

We are here to make this change. So I begin to look for the thrill in the idea of pushing though. All the emotional stuff comes up. I suck, I've gotten as far as i will get. I don't get it. I may never get it. And we go out and drill again. I have learned, over time, to observe these emotions with curiosity rather than with judgement. I know when I hear those voices that are telling me to back off that I am getting close. That becoming comfortable with that place where I am SUCKING at this is the place where the learning takes place, it's the place where's the beginners mind is. It's a scary freakin place!

And it's a place that not a lot of people understand. "Why do you take this so seriously, Howe?" I hear this a lot. "you need to just go out and ski. Stop thinking."

The thing is, that doesn't really work for me. I like this part! I don't have a problem not focusing, thats the easy part. I don't have a problem going out for a fun run. But nurturing the discipline to problem solve my way through the bottleneck of frustration leads to the most wonderful openings and deepenings.

There is bliss on the other side of frustration. And feeling the frustration as an opportunity to grow even more specific and disciplined is where the lesson lies for me this time.

We had to go back days in a row before we could pick up where we left off. But my understanding changed, and my skiing changed. And I skied it for another three days, just to be sure that I got it, from all sides, and then, oh man, I took it off piste. I had my fun runs. And it was like eating desert.

Delicious.

Your mind is a rubber band.

I had a bit of an epiphany last night as I was laying in bed falling asleep. This post is about riding the emotional roller coaster. I believe to some extent that that roller coaster is not only good, but necessary. I also believe that we tend to do one of two things: indulge in it or ignore it all together, neither of which is healthy.

In yoga, Bikram particularly, we learn that our bodies are different every day, and that that is okay. More than okay, that is the nature of the body. If we come to class expecting to get ahead of where we were yesterday every single time, we will meet resistance, suffer emotional disappointment, and be further away from our ability to improve and get to our "ultimate goal" (although yoga continually evolves, so there really should be no stopping point. The depth is bottomless.)

This is the irony of western mindset in this practice. To improve, part of your job is to give 100% effort at your place of benefit on that particular day. If you insist on pushing further you may either hurt yourself or impede your progress by over stretching, causing the body to guard, tear, or tighten the next day.

I believe our minds are like that, as well. We have a plan for how we would like our days in general to go, emotionally. Ideally, we'd like to be continually improving in our ability to move though our day with equanimity, handling whatever comes up, and staying in a mental place that allows us to constantly improve our performance at whatever we are endeavoring to do, whether that's writing, balancing a budget, leveraging a buyout or skiing bumps.

But just like our bodies will tighten to loosen in response to our day, our stimulus and our environment, and, over a time, improve in the overall if we are disciplined enough to meet the body where it needs to be met every single time, and then at that place give 100% effort but no more, so do our minds.

The mind needs to have space to run the emotional gamut. And sometimes, we need to step back and watch as emotions run through it. Compassion for that place is not capitulation. Compassion for that place is meeting the mind where it needs to be met so it can process the stresses and inputs of the day. You may have plans for how you, your body, your mind, your wants and your plans should move forward (next run we will be focused, centered, and non judgmental so we can ski better), but if the mind has not caught up to that place because it is still filtering the input from a cumulative effect of hard training and feedback over the course of five days or so, you may not have the run you want, expect and plan to have.

The mind may need to work through self doubt, judgement and quantitative properties, whether you want it to or not. How you allow it to do this will dictate how fast you come back to a place of calm. Letting the mind express those thoughts, observing them, and then letting them pass through you like water through a sieve, or coming up with alternative conversation to the doubt you are hearing about your ability to perform, or your worth, or the worth of your endeavor will help Refocus the mind on the task at hand.

Trying to deny the mind this process would be like sitting on an over stuffed suitcase to get it to close. Eventually, the pressure inside will be too much for the latch, and the whole thing will fail. Now you have a big new mess to clean up and you need a whole new suitcase, you have ruined this one.

Working through this place is important and difficult, because we all wish we didn't have to be here. We all wish we could avoid conflict, especially internal conflict. We are eager to get back to that place where we felt control, and not eager to look in the mirror and watch what ever needs to happen, happen.

I'm talking about taking a moment to let your mind process and catch up, meeting your mind where it needs to be met, with compassion and patience. Observing the process with curiosity while you continue to work. Mindfully changing up the rhythm of the day to ease rather than add to the stress, while still asking the mind to perform.

Giving up and walking away isn't the solution. But a coffee break and some laughter with a friend might be. Allowing yourself to go in to full blown crisis may not be helpful. Training yourself to function while processing is a good thing, it gives depth to discipline. But do it with compassion.

Having a good, stout cry for a few minutes in private can be relieving. Recognizing when you are in over your head and you need advice or a good stout cry on the shoulder of a friend is beneficial as well. Recognizing when you are abdicating your responsibility by dumping your problems on a friend, or allowing yourself to go into crisis because you pushed things down for so long that they are blowing up, or going into crisis so you can make sure that you have friends who love you when you are in a place of self doubt is selfish and destructive, the middle path is quieter, calmer, and will lead you out of this.

observe the process gently so that it is truly a relieving pressure valve and process rather than a pity party. The first has merit for meeting the mind so it can spring back and move forward, the second mires you deeper into misery.

just like in yoga, pay mindful attention to your place of benefit. Check your alignment. Move with compassion. Ask more of yourself, observe the results, back off as necessary, make sure you are able to breathe long and slow through the effort. If you can't, reevaluate your place of benefit. With this mindful approach, your mind will snap back into a place of deep performance faster, healthier and open to process more. With a head down charge forward mindset, you will go only as far as you can until you cause harm, and then you will either stop all together, or spend a long time rehabilitating an injury.

As you deepen your practice, you will find that you rebound back and have greater depth and capacity for work, creativity and discipline with each willingness. Your mind is working like the rubber band that it is, you are going to your place of benefit and growing into yourself. Congratulations!

Knowing, Believing, Guessing, Wondering, Being Unsure

What a wild ride this is becoming. Its interesting to watch myself ping pong every couple of hours back and forth between:

This is insane, I am so far away from where I need to be with my feet that I have bitten off WAY more than I can chew, what was I even THINKING?

to:

Wow, that was a big change, that is sticking, and my understanding is unfolding, too, so maybe if I stay with it, over the next 70 days, what I have will be enough. (Should I get invited.)

to:

Holy shit, I need to re read every technical skiing book I own for the sixth time, so that I can read it from this place, and understand it better.

to:

Now that I've bitten this off, I guess I'd better chew. Humble pie for dinner again.

to:

out right fear

to:
excitement for the process and the journey

to:
periods of calm and good focus that feel good, sane, and in line with where i am now, rather than worrying about where I'd like to get to

to:
holy crap, where I'd like to get to is reaaaaallllllyyyyyy far away.

to:
who knows? stranger things have happened. (I hope)

And I think that this is just kind of part of the journey. I think its good to check in with reality and then live in possibility. If I only lived in possibility, I would have no concept of where the ground really was, and where I was working from. If I only live in the reality of where I am or was, I will never believe change is possible.

So its become this strange blend of beating the crap out of myself only to come up for air and go, well, this place is nice, too, lets work here and believe in the future.

Sometimes, I'm overwhelmed with a sense of calm that I'm moving smoothly in the right direction, regardless of whether I get there or not, that's not the point. That's a nice place to live, its really productive.

In the midst of all of that is just the simple, repetitive process of getting out there on the snow, and turning my feet again and again and again.

Which leaves me here: Just keep working. Work is prayer. Each turn is an opportunity to learn. I will either arrive in one destination or another, regardless, the journey is tremendous.

The day the flag got burried.

Bodhi and Ethan and their friends have a little campsite by Maroon Creek, which got destroyed the other day. I held Bodhi in my arms while he grieved, and he told me the story, with his sunburnt shoulders leaning hot against me. I've been doing a bunch of fiction writing for the last two months, and his experience inspired a little short story.

The tribe daring each other to jump in the cold snowmelt pond.

We walked over the hill a little, the bedraggled line of the three of us, my older brother, a little bit duck footed, skinny like a bean pole, knees bigger than his thighs, JT, our neighbor, and me.

I was in my flip-flops.  My hair had gotten long enough that I could feel it on my shoulders.  My shoulders were sunburned, no shirt, a pair of plaid shorts with a permanent dirt stain on the butt.  JT was trotting along, trying to keep up on his short five year old legs.  He'd helped us dig it out to begin with. 

We had brought some more stuff that we'd found.  I had an eagle feather.  I knew it was an eagle feather.  I went and asked the Dean if it was and he said yeah, and that it was sacred and special and that I should keep it, and that's what had started us heading over here today. 

Along the way J.T. had found a rock that he said was a crystal, but it was really just a rock, but he wanted it to be as special as my eagle feather, so I let him have it.  Ethan, always practical, had brought along a shovel and the little porcelain dish that he has swiped from mom's kitchen that had some of her special rocks in it, but mom was pretty cool that way, you know?  She let us play with her stuff, and sometimes she'd wonder where it was and it would mysteriously reappear. 

Anyway, we climbed up over the big, loose, dirt mound and when we got to the top, there was our flag,
almost just like we'd left it.  It was a long tree branch that we'd pulled out of the river the summer before and tied to the top was a piece of white T-shirt.  It was the best flag we'd had so far. We'd had it out on the raft last year when we'd lived up at the pond.  Now we'd moved across the ranch to another cabin that also had a pond, but this pond had a big fire hose that sprayed into it all day, so didn't have a raft, so the flag has been laying by our front door for most of the summer until we found this magic spot. 

I called it my peaceful place.  The other kids wanted to name it something else like, you know, rad, awesome, gastro launch mech tech site, but it wasn't.  It was my peaceful place and that's what we called it and they just had to deal with it or they couldn't come play there. We had set up rules for it.  They were very clear.  Each one of us had a treasure table.  Mine was made out of a stump.  Ethan and J.T. had big flat rocks that they had polished and swept off really carefully and on each treasure table we had put our most valued possessions.  I had a bone from an elk that I found, a big huge femur, heavy and bleached white. I had some soft, sort of oily-feeling yellow crystals that I had found that I thought were maybe salt, and some feathers.  The flag was planted right by the edge of the mossy minnow pond, marking our territory.

Ethan had a bird's nest at his treasure table.  He was really good at spotting birds. He even knew why kind of bird it was that the nest belonged to.  J.T. had little mounds of dirt.  He didn't really get it.  He was still kind of a baby, but we let him play.  He would put anything on his treasure table and we were constantly trying to tell him, it's not a treasure. It has to be something special.  You can't just pick something up off the ground and dump it on the table.  It needs to be something, you know, it needs to be a treasure, so maybe he treasured his dirt. 

But here's what happened.  Today we walked up to the top of the hill that hid our peaceful place, and all of those things that we had carefully put there were under a huge pile of dirt with giant tractor marks pressed into it.  The top of our flag was showing out of it, but nothing else was there.  Someone had come and dumped truckload after truckload after truckload of dirt there.

Those huge, heavy machines had rolled over our most sacred spot, our campsite, our peaceful place, our treasure tables.  Every single thing was buried, my bone, my feathers, the stump, the rocks, they were turned and buried.  Even a little pond with minnows in it was filled in part way with ugly brown lose dirt.  The flag was sticking out barely, and Ethan looked at it, still, and then walked over, put down his little bowl, picked up the shovel that was still leaning against the tree just outside of the dirt, and began to dig.

"What are you doing?" I asked, anger flooding everything. It seemed pointless, hopeless.

"I'm digging up what we can recover. Its all under here."

"Its GONE, Ethan. Those assholes dumped dirt over everything everything that meant anything to me."

Ethan didn't even look. He had the flag halfway out. "You never know, Bodhi, we might find it all if we just start digging. It won't help us find the stuff to cry about it. If you want to have your stuff back, start digging."

"You sound like mom!" I yelled at him. It wasn't his fault, but I needed to be angry at someone. "I want our SPOT BACK! I want my HOME BACK!" I screamed. And then I sat down, suddenly tired. Tired from the job ahead, moving all that dirt to find a tiny feather, tired from the anger, which was draining out of my toes, being replaced with disbelief.

It had been the perfect place, and it was out of sight, but it was close enough to the house that we could hear mom ring the bell when it was time to come home.  It was across the road, so that we felt really like big kids, you know?  We had been allowed to cross the road to find our spot and those fuckers, man. 

I can't even believe it and I felt it coming up in me and it wasn't anger so much as just total disbelief.  I felt as though that huge machine had driven over my home; that I had come home one day and that my house was flat and that this embossed mark of this huge, metal monster had left its footprints all over what was most precious to me, my sanctuary, my space. 

I really didn't care whether I cried in front of the other kids or not, because I felt my heart breaking and being squeezed. It seemed impossible, it was shocking, surprising, unreal.  I felt sick.  I felt sad.  I felt  I felt robbed.  I felt like I couldn't trust anybody.  How could the Dean have let this happen?  He's the one that taught me to find a bow, to find a soft piece of willow and bend it and split it and tie a piece of grass between it and make a bow that really works.  He had taught me that I could eat the whole dandelion, including the flower.

How in the world had he let - I mean what had, had he been driving this monster?  Had he been driving this machine?  Tell me please that the Dean was not a part of this.  I couldn't believe it.  I decided not to believe it.  It must have been while he was gone.  His workers came and they didn't see our flag, which was clearly planted on top of this place that was very special to us.



They must not have seen (but how could they not) our careful place, the piece of the place that was mine, the log we sat in and pulled the moss off of, the place where you could cool your feet, how could they not have?

I sat down and cried.  The tears spilled out of my eyes, hot and wet and angry on my cheeks.  I grieved for the loss of this place that had meant so, so much to me, and was now wadded up like tissue paper.  It was the first time that I ever felt loss or death or grief, and I knew then, that it wouldn't be the last.

Work is Prayer: cultivating gratitude in everything

How do you live this, teach this, and even begin to understand this?

I just finished this painting, (which is painted after and inspired by one of my favorite albums to do massage to). Its in the kitchen over the sink, because we don't have a dishwasher, and I'm not a fan of doing dishes. Three or four or five times a day.

Ethan and Bodhi both asked me, what does "Work is Prayer" mean? Explaining this esoteric concept to myself was dificult enough. Wording it for adults was still a challenge. Eplaining it to a 7 and a 9 year old in a way that they could grasp made it come very clear to me.

I think on the simple level about the problem of the dishes. There are dishes. I don't want to wash them. But there is the fact that I am healthy, my kids are healthy. We have a home and a kitchen and food to cook. We have the means to buy food that is healthy for our bodies.

The dishes exist because of the bounty we live in. There are blessings all around, from the big sloping lawn outside my windows to the stream that flows down it from the trout pond where the kids like to swim.

When I look at the dishes, if I can cultivate gratitude for the task ahead of me, for whatever portion of it I can latch onto, maybe first just that they exist because I've fed my kids and I'm glad to have done that, maybe next that I'm healthy and able to stand and work, and then finally, to find peace, grace, and gratitude in the act of washing.

I think it comes down again to acceptance and wishing. If I wish the dishes did not need doing or did not exist, I'm adding to my suffering. I'm working reluctantly. If I accept that the dishes exist, my wishing isn't going to change that, and so accept the present moment as it is, with neither positives nor negatives, blessings or curses, it is just this moment with everything existing in the world in this moment as it does, I am suddenly free.

Free to call up gratitude for life, for growth, for work, and watch my hands make the dishes clean, taking pride in the thorough job, observing how my heart transforms when I do a task that I'm not fond of with willingness and without judgement.

Work becomes meditation, or prayer. It is a privilege, an opening, a growth, a place of gratitude unfolding.

It is a moment to practice for moments that "really" count. For those moments when you have to wash the dishes of your life, your love, your relationships. When you have to accept the present moment as it is when that present moment may include heart break, loss, love, pain, or joy.

Its a moment of gratitude. Now, if I can just get Ethan to understand that when he has to take the trash out...

WIN: "Now I'm Rearanging my Life for Yoga!"

This is not what my Rabbit pose looks like. But one day, it might.

I was just chatting with a friend of mine who is beginning a yoga practice. I took him to Bikram Yoga at Aspen's Arjuna Yoga studio for his first class, and, like most folks who come to Bikram for the first time, he was blown away by how hard it was, how incredibly hot it was in the room, how it could be so hard to stand so still.

Surviving the heat is the first part of it, after about four classes, your body adjusts, the heat is welcome, addicting, and you don't get dizzy. Then your practice begins to deepen, and rather than yoga being the workout, its what you do to recover from, balance for, or prepare for your day.

I'm finding that the more yoga I do, the more I like to use it after a big run, hike, ski or ride. (Although its DUMPING snow in Aspen right now, so lets say SKI!) There is something beautiful about surrendering to the practice so much that it becomes like eating or breathing, its an essential part of balancing your life, not the dreaded workout you are obligated to do.

So I just got a text from my friend, who is coming to the noon class, and he said, "Ive moved my appointment so I can make it to class. Now I'm rearranging my life for yoga! Ahhh!" 

Backbends in the heat is one of the best PT therapies for my injury I've found!

I smiled when I read this, because I remember the first time that I told someone that I couldn't schedule a massage at a certain time because I had class. I wasn't turning down work, but honoring my practice as an important part of my health, my happiness, and my rehabilitation from my injury made this very sacred space for that practice in my life.

Suddenly, my schedule is balancing because I'm willing to schedule my life around yoga. Or, more accurately, to schedule my work and play along with yoga, so that it is integrated into my life just like food and time with my kids is.

I think this is one of the key breakthroughs as a person changes their lifestyle, especially the initial shift from more sedentary to more active, this honoring. Its not something that ever stops, as I continue on my journey of fitness, I find that my commitment deepens and my need to schedule hours of workout time into every day becomes more important.

And guess what? I have more time! By taking 3 or 6 or 8 hours to workout, in yoga, in hiking, in skinning up, whatever, my house is also clean! My laundry is done, the food I am making is healthier, my time with my kids is more active, they are happier, so am I. My body is getting stronger, my mind is getting calmer.

Trusting that the energy will come back to you when you are first starting is the next hard part, I think. When you first start working out you are so exhausted in the afternoon. But its not always like that. And, eventually, you get addicted to that exhausted feeling, and you learn to blanance those workouts, so that they are once or twice a week instead of every day. Your every day practice becomes an energizing one.

So yeah, WIN, my friend, you are scheduling your life around yoga! Welcome to the first step down the path to bliss!!

A quick update

I want to say thanks to my kind and supportive  readers who sent me a steady stream of comments and emails during those tough two weeks.

One of my readers told me that it was really hard for him to see me get that far "below the line", to have self doubt and questioning behavior. I think about that a lot before I post something personal, but I do have to say that my promise to my readers has always been that I will be as transparent as possible.

This blog was meant to be a real log of this journey, not just the good parts. Any journey has ups and downs, and this one is proving to be quite difficult. I would never have guessed that the hardest part would be the financial aspect, but its true, starting a new career, from scratch, with two kids to pay for and no savings is more difficult than one would think, even a perpetual optomist like me. :-)

I had a wonderful talk with my friend who was rattled by my being rattled, and what I told him was that its going to happen. I am a human, just like everyone else, and while I work hard to stay positive and move forward, I think that having these thoughts of doubt are part of using my paddle.

(YES, I will post both the paddle and flywheel concepts ASAP! I promise!)

If we don't examine the choices we are making, we run the risk of blindly charging toward our goal, without concept or care for how our choices are affecting other people. And while its important to stay committed and work hard, and while its more likely that you will "achieve" if you can put your head down and keep moving forward, the success you achieve may be a lonely one.

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't a fun place to be, and it was a very scary two weeks. And no, its not really over yet, although things are looking up (aren't they always?). But I think it was an important place to be.

Do I really want this? How important is it? Should I really go to New Zealand if I can? Is it too selfish? What is the cost? To me, to our future stability, to the boys, to my relationships?

In the end, I feel that I have found some balanced answers to those questions, which are serving as a path for me while I'm navigating all this uncertanty. Having a strong support group who came very gently to my aid was really helpful during this period, and I'm grateful!

Don't be scared of the scary times, they are teachers, too, and look to your friends for encouragement when it gets dark, lots of times, they'll sit right next to you while you figure it out.

Just Show Up.

I was talking with my dear sister (no, the other one. the one you are thinking of is in Spain!!) this morning, and she asked me... "How do you do it? How do you actually get started? And then how do you make a change in your life that lasts? And then, if you go back to your old habits, how do you start again?"

This is SUCH an important question.

She said, "I know Nike says "Just do it." But I don't know how."

We had a beautiful conversation about how to make the change in your life so that it stays, so that you are the change, so that you are growing and becoming. And then I thought I'd better write it down for the rest of us, too!

"Well, I don't have time today."  This is the excuse that keeps it from happening, and while it may be true you may actually not have time today, most likely the reason that you don't have time is because you're used to not having time.

You're doing the best you can to fit in everything.  You're lucky if you actually make it to the post office.  You know if you make it to the post office, the grocery store and you get the laundry folded and put away, then you've done three things that you don't have time for, let alone getting yourself to a 90-minute yoga class which actually takes about 2 hours and 15 minutes including
driving and getting in, getting out and showering, so really who has TWO hours extra? 

Nobody. Not one of us. Not even the people that are there, in Yoga. They don't have two extra hours.

This level of awesomeness is not required every time. But it might be the accidental result of showing up. You never know.

The point is is that if you want fitness in your life, if you want your blood pressure to go down, you want to not have insomnia and depression, you want to have extra energy, you want to have clarity and balance and a strong body, not even a super ripped body, just a body that has movement and is functioning well, then you have to make time for it.

And I know everybody says that you have to make time for it, but I mean it.  You have to make
time for it in the same way that you make time for the other things you've decided are indispensible in your life, so if you have decided that as you're making decisions during the day, spending time with your children trumps getting the laundry folded and your kids are there so you spend time with them,
that's decision making. 

That's building little pockets of time according to your priorities, and it's true that something has to
give.  You can't just stay up an extra 2 hours because sleep is an important part of fitness, so where does it come from? 

If you work a 10-hour day and your house is a mess and you have other obligations, where does it come from?  It comes from making it every morning to that 8:15 class right after you drop your kid off at school whether you're tired or not because it's a thing that you don't compromise on.

If you have a job that starts at 9, you make it to 4:30 class. If your job, like my sisters, is 7 am to 11 pm, you tell your boss you need a 2 hour lunch in order to stay healthy. You go to the one hour yoga at lunch, and you walk there. You eat your healthy lunch at your desk after.

Even if you don't feel like going to yoga, you go. Especially if you don't feel like going. "Ugh, I don't feel like going." RIGHT! That's the signal that its time to get your shit in your car and get going. And park like four blocks away so you get a walk in, too.

This might do just fine today. You showed up.

Because it's not a competitive sport; the point of yoga is to do the posture to the benefit of the body, so you go into the pose and you hold it as well as you can to the benefit of the body, and if this morning you've been crying for three days or you've got your period or whatever it is, or you didn't sleep last night or you just had a big fight or you have 18 million things to do later today, yes you still have to go to yoga. 



No, it doesn't have tobe champion of the world workout.  You have to show up.  That's my point. Maybe this blog post should have been called that. Show up.  Just show up.  Get in the first pose.  Don't wish you weren't there.  Don't wish that the class could end.  Don't wish that your stomach didn't hurt.  Just let go of wishing everything.  Just show up and then be there.  Be there in the first posture.  Be there in the second posture.  Be there in the ninth posture.  Be there in shavasana.  Be grateful to yourself for the fact that you took the time to do it.  You don't have to hit it out of the park.  It doesn't have to be the best one ever. You can get there and be exhausted.  See if you can get there and
be exhausted and not have to show with your face or your body or your energy to everybody else that you're here but you're exhausted so you deserve something back.  Just show up.


And go to yoga. Namaste!!

Not Confusing, Confucius.

I have a lovely friend who knows just what to say. (We all need those, don't we?) He sent me these, and for that, I'm really, really grateful. It was awesome timing. And these are good!

The gem cannot be polished without friction nor man without trials.  ~Confucius

There is in every true woman's heart a spark of heavenly fire, which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity; but which kindles up, and beams and blazes in the dark hour of adversity.
-- Washington Irving

When it is dark enough, you can see the stars.
-- Ralph Waldo Emerson

The most important thing is NEVER TO PANIC.

eventually, i'm sure i'll get there...

Total crisis today to things being clearer this afternoon. I try to stay out of crisis and just work toward the next bill getting paid. Today was really tough as I had a deadline that I knew I couldn't meet. I had to have a long, painful talk with a person I care about, and it did not feel good. And then I did not feel good.

I went to my friend's house and cried on his shoulder... "I'm Failing." I told him. Am I ridiculous to think I could actually do this? Quit my job and move to Aspen with my kids and live on a ski instructors salary with no savings to get us through?

Who am I to be giving people advice on following their dreams? Mine are held together by dental floss and an overly healthy optomistic streak.

In order to ski this summer, I have to be selfish. In order to make the ski cut, I have to ski this summer, or I don't have a chance in hell. I probably, honestly, don't have a chance to begin with, but if I'm going to give it all I have, like I promised I would, that means I have to ski this summer.

To what detriment? Can I come up with the $4000 I'll need (and that's with a donated plane ticket) to get there and live, and pay for my place here at the same time?  How can I think that will happen when I'm struggling to pay rent this month?

The worst part is, I don't want to ask for help. There needs to be a time when this is settled, solved. And while it gets better every year, I need it to be all better now. Which means I'm doing something that's not working. My costs are more than I make. But my costs are as low as I can get them without living in my car.

So I'm looking at all these things, after having had a fairly tough week, emotionally, although my massage business is picking up a LOT, its still not grown as big as I need it to.

I have an interview for a short haul in New Zealand tonight, which is promising, but that's not till the end of July, and I have to make money to get there.

I have several writing projects that I'm working on, but... but... what materializes now for car payment, groceries and rent for May and June? Should I go get an office job? If I do, I won't be free to work at 02 or privately giving massage, which is what my professional skill set is in. If I work hard developing my massage business, I will be able to have time to be with my kids and make a good living at the thing I love doing. I'll be walking down my path.

Then there is my job at the stables. I gave it up in hopes of getting the job at Portillo, was that wishful thinking? Was that foolish? Was that selfish? If I hadn't, and I'd gotten the job, I would have had to let my boss at the stables down at the last minute. That didn't feel like integrity.

Because I don't really have the luxury to make decisions like these, are they reckless when they don't work out? Does it mean that I shouldn't be doing this?

In the midst of these tears, I got a text from 02... my first massage from them, and I just got hired yesterday. It seemed like a sign, a reprieve. I know its silly, there's no signs. But I latched onto it just in case.

Working at 02 is wonderful, its the kind of business I'd open if I was going to open a spa. A yoga, pilates and meditation studio with a small quality spa upstairs. It feels homey, it feels wonderful.

So I'm going to do this interview, I'm going to keep doing massage at my place and at 02, I'm going to breathe, I'm going to clean houses to fill in the money and I'm going to work my ass off. That's my plan.

I love my Ego: Leaving space for the other person to be right.

Want to know if you are ego attached, or if you are open? Try this one out the next time you talk to someone. Especially someone who you are pretty sure that you have more knowledge than in a given subject.

Practice leaving space for the other person to be right. My massage teacher, Aubrey taught me this. I was astounded when she said it to me, it had never even occurred to me that even if I have good information, or the ability to go to the heart of the matter, that there might be a more effective way to have my information received.

Can you leave space for this guy to be right?

As I practice this more and more, I realize that its not only an effective way to have my information received, but often, as I'm actively working on leaving space for the other person to be right, I spend valuable time understanding their point of view, and why they've come to hold the beliefs that they have.

Whether they are beliefs about energy, their body, God, how a ski turns, or what to eat, it is not my job to prescribe for them what I believe works better, it is my job to hold space for their current belief, and, if invited, share my own alternative or complimentary point
of view.


If I am secure enough in my person, I can stand there and allow that what you believe is important to you. Even if I "know" that categorically you are WRONG, it still might be important for you to believe that you are right. This is also an excellent opportunity to consider that my opinion, which I am pretty sure is right, might not be 1. accurate, 2. fully informed, 3. take other points of view inter consideration, 4. correct, 5. fully formed... you get my point here...

This lady is pretty sure that she is right. Does she leave space for the other guy to be right sometimes?

Look at skiing for example. The student may feel very strongly that traversing across the hill is a safe way to negotiate terrain that is too steep for them. You, as a teacher, may know that traversing across the hill is unsafe because its unpredictable to other skiers, and because you may gain speed as you traverse, with little control, especially if you are defensively in the back seat while you are doing it.

Telling your student that they are wrong, that they shouldn't traverse, taking away what they believe will keep them safe, may shut them down to you. If you take away the one tool that they have, you may lose your ability to give them another, more effective tool.

What if you told your student, another way to control your speed is to turn up the hill, or link turns with less traverse in them. If you need to, by all means, traverse. But do your best to try this new thing as well, you may find that it makes you feel, with practice, even more control.

The guy on the right is pretty good at being sure he's right, but leaving space for you to be right, too.

Now, the student is allowed to believe what they know "works", even though you know something else will work better. You are honoring their belief system while adding something from your own. You hold space for them to be right, while you present more options.

If you need to, you can look at it this way: if this belief is currently working for them, from their understanding, they ARE right. They have something which makes sense, which they can rely on, which works. Honoring THAT piece as truth allows you to relax a little. Yes, they are right. Yes, you may also be right. Now, we have the opportunity for growth and learning on both sides. A conduit is open.

Can you do this while having a discussion on religion? Can you listen to the other person and leave space for them to be right while honoring your own concepts and ideas? If you can, if you can practice this, you are practicing tolerance, and suddenly, you are listening from a non-judgmental place.

This guy is pretty sure he's right. Does he leave space for the other guy to be right sometimes?

The bonus benefit to you in this place? You become a student! You become a patient, open learner, capable of leaving space for the other person to be right. You practice separating from or restraining your ego, you practice hearing the other person, you practice looking from their point of view even when yours doesn't match, or is diametrically opposed. You practice tolerance. Patience.

And the result is, the student you are teaching will hear you sooner, deeper, faster. The student that you become is open to more knowledge than ever before, and therefore has a depth from which to draw in the future. Communication is open, and NOW, the teaching can begin.

Are you the student you think you are?

I've been having some interesting email conversations today after the post that I wrote thanking my teachers. The conversation has come around to why it is so hard to be a beginner, why it is so hard to learn, why we often need to defend ourselves rather than stay in a place of learning. I thought I'd write a bit about what it means to be a student. 

This is a teacher. But maybe not a student.

I think that often times we have this idea that if we let someone else teach us something, we are admitting that they know more than we do. Advice from other people often is interpreted by us as someone defining our lack, or pointing out their superiority.

This often leads to an internal ego battle which can be ferocious. Especially if the person that you are meant to learn from is younger than you, or not someone who you respect. What if you have more experience in an area than your teacher does? Does that negate their ability to teach you?

What if you are the teacher on a given day. Does this mean that you are not expected to learn anything?

Lets let go of the dogma of what is a teacher for just a moment. The idea of in-charge. The idea of power. The idea that if you are going to learn something from someone you have to subjigate yourself to them in some way, admit your lesser status, grant them some elevated stature...

This is probably a student. And a teacher.

What if a teacher is just another person? What if the teacher is the mountain you are standing on or the river flowing by?

Lets start with the river. It doesn't really have any interest in how smart you are, how much knowledge you bring to the table. It doesn't care if all the other human beings that you hang out with are terribly, terribly impressed with how awesome you are.

The river is just the river. Flowing with gravity from one source to another, where it will become something else, lake or sea or rain or snow.

Its easy to learn from the river, there isn't a power struggle between you and your teacher. You can set aside your need to be right, your need to be respected, your need to roll out your resume, all of the needs which feed the ego, and look at how the river flows. How it has the impetus of movment, how it navigates obstacles, how the force of it wears down the hardest stone. How it dries in the summer to a trickle, or disappears underground, and comes back in the fall with growing volume until it freezes and flows silently under the ice.

You can stand with your feet in the water and let the river teach you how to be present, how to breathe, how to be still, how to see, how to feel. You can do all of these things without worry or fear.

But lets say you come across a person who is new to you. Someone who doesn't come recommended by other people, they don't have a bestselling book, they are just a person.

Neither a student nor a teacher. But maybe both?

Lets say this person is walking on a slackline in the sunshine in a park. They fall off and they laugh. They get back on.

You have an opportunity here to let this person be a teacher. You have a choice, you can take a lesson from afar, learning from the way they seem to persevere, they way they laugh at defeat, the way they play in the sunshine, the way they are present in the moment, taking time to live in the middle of a busy day.

Now lets say you go to a class or a clinic. And the person who is teaching it is abrasive, or unorganized, or unprepared. Can they not still be a teacher to you? Maybe you won't learn what you came here to learn. Maybe you know this material well. Perhaps the lesson you can learn is one of compassion from you to them, or maybe this person is an excellent teacher in another way. Maybe the way they listen to their class is the lesson you are meant to learn. 

When we are really confronted with our abilty to learn from others is when we feel challenged or threatened by the other person's knowledge, whether its direct knowledge of a subject in particular, or just a way of being in the world.

You can take this simple test to see if you are open to teaching: When someone puts a lesson out there, do you feel the need to state things that you know? Or are you able to listen and absorb? Do you only take a piece of the lesson, or are you willing to be present for the whole message, even if you are squirming in your seat, ready to rebut, respond, or try it out? Do you have the presence and patience to be a student?

Is your response to someone who is talking, or teaching (even accidentally teaching) "Yes, I know, because I..." or "I know but..." or "When I do it I..." or "I got it"

The girl with the iPod might be the teacher here.

If this is the case, you are missing a tremendous opportunity. Your opportunity to learn! To become! To evolve! And seperating yourself from your ego so you can first, spot your teachers, and second, accept that they ARE teachers, and third, be open to their teaching without feeling like their knowledge threatens or diminishes yours, is our first job.


A person should not have to prove themselves to you with a resume or a recommendation to have something valid to share with you. You do not give your power away when you learn from all of those around you. On the contrary, you become an open, evolving vessle, more seperate from your ego.


None of us have all the answers. None of us are done growing. In fact hardly ANY of us have scratched the surface of what we can understand. Accepting that, accepting the fact that even those of us with PhDs have a LOT to learn in many areas, even in their area of expertise, makes you suddenly a master student.

And if you want or hope or wish to be a master teacher one day, you must first master the ability to be an eternally humble student.

Reluctant Student: An anti-feminist finds salvation in a coven of women from all walks of life.

I was sitting here thinking about how I feel about myself now versus five years ago, versus ten years ago, versus... well, you get the point.

I asked my friend Weems a few months ago if I'd ever be done. If I'd ever be good enough, finished learning, if I'd get a break in between growths. I asked this facetiously, somewhat, but my egoic self was tired of all of this becoming.

He smiled at me and granted me a break with a hug and a kiss on my head, I knew that it was my choice to stop or to keep growing. I hid for a few days, and then tackled that tough thing. I am curious about what life might be like if I could be open enough to learn the lessons in front of me. I'm not sure I'm tough enough to strip off the ego that I think protects me and stand in what sometimes feels like gale force winds of scrutiny and judgment.

But there is something so powerful about letting yourself let go of needing to be right, or of having the answers, and being willing to be naked and take the force of that wind as a teacher, embracing it.

I didn't come by the will to do this on my own. I had teachers over the years. My first teacher was Kris, the first boy I ever loved, my first true love, a man who never wanted to take, but at the tender age of 17 was already a patient teacher about compassion.

Over the years there were many, teachers who held space for me when I felt like a very broken version of who I was meant to be. I never understood why they were willing to be hurt and disappointed by me over and over and over again and I struggled to become a reliable, dependable, integritous person. I had no idea the size of the mountain I was trying to climb. I had no idea how much help I already had, I had no idea how many teachers littered the path to the beginning of my understanding. So many of these teachers, as I grew older, were women of all walks of life. Christian, Buddhist, Atheist, Jewish, straight, gay, all of these are my teachers.

Sister Beth, always willing to dance.

I'm grateful for my sister, Beth, who has always been a safe place to hide and lick my wounds. While our lives together were often tempestuous, she opened her home and her heart to me when she was still in college, and took me in, at 16, a drug using, violent teenager. The sacrifice she made to house my very confused, very angry person was enormous.

My teacher, Bodhi, six months old

One of my most profound teachers was my child, Bodhi, and his brother, Ethan. When I was pregnant with Bodhi, the force of his stubborn, beautiful will inside me inspired me to look carefully at Ethan, 20 months old at the time.

Ethan has always felt like a fresh new soul to me, blinkinly confoundedly trusting, in this world without any concept of danger or damage. Everything is beautiful to his immense computing power brain, and everything is new.

My teacher, Ethan, 3 weeks old and taking it all in

Pregnant with a powerful old soul full of love and war and opinion, I was fortunate enough to deepen my relationship with Nkem, my midwife. She and her partner Margot were brave enough to lead me to the questions of abuse in my past, things I had buried because there was no way to make logical sense out of why they happened. I believed I must have deserved this treatment.

Nkem held space for me while challenging me to look right in the mirror and own it. The only way  to keep Ethan safe, as it felt was insisted by his unborn brother, was to break this cycle. To bring to light all that had been hidden, was blanketed in shame and secrecy.

Nkem opened the door and helped me walk through it.

My therapist, Diane made a beautiful nest armored with steel for me to work in, and together with Tom, I found the courage and strength to set off a nuclear bomb in the falseness that was our happy family.

My beautiful, loving, incredible friend Jen was there to catch me in the fall out. We spent hours together holding strong to our beliefs about mothering, she challenged me to wear my child proudly on my breast, to give myself to the body that had made the baby, to embrace the deeper miracle of creating and birthing a person.

Just some of Jen's beautiful family

Virginia came bursting into my life like a pistol. Her wild, creative, open loving heart was incredible to see. She pulled our kids into her heart and held them like a precious package while we stumbled through years of confusion and growth.  I called her my wife, and it seems we're married in our spirits somehow!

Virginia and Jesse

All the while, these women held my feet to the fire, holding me accountable for my own growth. None would let me rest, none would be satisfied with partial effort. While they would tell me they saw potential in me, they wouldn't let me rest on that. They demanded growth. They wanted me to develop respect, integrity, they wanted me to become.

Angela.

Years later, I met Angela. This incredibly beautiful, powerful spirit was my first glimpse of my evolution. Could I become a woman so sure of herself? Strong mountain woman, in charge of her own destiny, open, willing, alone, able to stand on her feet and be enough for her. Her deep spiritual practice echoed my own desire, and I was challenged again to be a better me. Could I ever have my shit together like this woman did? How in the world had she come so far and learned so much? Why was she so willing to have me along?

Megan Harvey. Its hard to get her to stand still long enough to take her picture.

Then I met Megan. Who, for some unknown reason, believed in me. "You can! You can totally do that!" she said to me. For some reason, she's never changed that stand, and I feel continuously in my life like she sees me, now, as the person that I will one day become. Its an incredible amount of trust, and it inspires me to live up. She does this in a beautiful way, I don't feel like I have to live up to a standard, or fail her, I feel like she sees the possibility for who I can become, and therefore sees me already fulfilling my potential. Its like a Harry Potter story... I knew I could produce a Patronus because I'd seen myself do it in the future.

Weems explains football to Ethan at the Skier's game

Then I met Weems, (you are an honorary witch, Weems.) and Mermer, who shined their headlights on me and held my feet to the fire even more, with love, with compassion, with belief in the journey that we are all on. Weems has been this person for so many, and I feel so fortunate to be his friend, I feel so grateful to have his gentle spirit pushing me forward, lots of times I feel like I am walking on a slack line down the river, and he's the guy-line overhead that I can catch onto when I feel like I'm about to fall.

Aubrey. Ms. Frizzle of the spiritual world.

I went to massage school where I met Ruth, and Aubrey, and Tamara. I went through profound challenges during the year I spent in massage school, and the energy of Aubrey and Tamara was so deep, so forceful, so true, I was reminded of Nkem, of my first big challenge. I said I wanted to become. Was I really willing to do the work?

Tamara. Whose hands stuffed me back into my body daily.

Every day for hours a day, I was challenged. I was challenged to enter my body, which I'd abandoned as a painful place that was way to real to live in years before. I was challenged to ferret out beliefs about myself and look at their origin, let go and evolve. In the fierce hands and hearts of these women I forcefully shed my skin over and over again.

I left massage school feeling like I'd had a good scrubbing, and the world looked different. Then I moved to Aspen, where I felt like I had found my people. My friends here opened their arms and loved me for who I was. They continued to insist that I grow, become, and even today, they hold me accountable.

Liat. Who knew it could be this easy to be a grown up!

I still struggle with timeliness, I'm not great at predicting the seasonal life of a ski instructor, I'm not great at knowing what life with two kids will bring. But now, I live in a world with my sister as my partner, my little sister, for whom I was a teacher for years, has now become a teacher of mine. She's helping me learn the practical nature of life that just can't be ignored any more. At 39, I'm learning to file paperwork and balance my checkbook and plan for the future.

Partners on the path of growth. Like a see saw railroad cart, you push, I push, you push, I push.

And then there is Kurt. Constant for me, he expects excellence. From how I store my gear to how much sugar I eat to how I tune my skis to how fast I hike to how much I challenge myself to how open my mind is to information. He calls me on lip-service, on dogma, on being a sheep, on believing information without checking its accuracy. He challenges me every single day to have integrity on the highest order while letting me share the strengths that I have with him.

And now, I sit here feeling like I'm at another huge hump, its time for a new shedding, a new becoming, but this one, I think, comes from inside. So many women, so many people, have helped squeeze me through the wormhole in the past. I think they must have been preparing me to do it on my own, to wriggle my own self, my own spirit and energy into a new becoming, a new understanding.

There are so many people along the way who have come and gone, been students, or teachers, or both, for me or for my children. Thank you. Krista, Naomi, Cindy, Georgie...

This summer is stretching out in front of me in a big, blank canvas of the unknown. No one is going to prescribe whats best or possible for me. I'm on my own, now. But for the first time ever, I'm not afraid to be, thanks to the army of teachers who have given so selflessly to me and to everyone else in their lives.

Who taught you your limits?

A few days ago, my older sister posted a bunch of photos to Facebook. They are pictures of us growing up that I haven't seen in years.

As I was flipping through them, I came to this photo:

1988 Senior Prom

And my reaction to this photo was, "Oh, that's a nice picture. Hey, that's me. (dawning realization) Wow, I'm not hideously ugly. (Insert some other exceptionally negative thoughts that came immediately after that one). Huh. Why did I think I was so fantastically strange looking for so long?"

I was honestly shocked to look at this picture and think that this girl is attractive. And then to realize that this girl was me. This is me going to the Senior Prom with the cutest guy in school. I had been shocked when he asked me, first of all, because I didn't hang out with his crowd, I had a crush on him (like all the girls did), but I didn't know him at all. I just knew he was tummy-churning cute, and he'd never given me the time of day before.

Now, the point of this post, the reason that I wanted to share it is this; this is a good example of believing old programing subconsciously. 

I was taught as a young girl that I was ugly. Incredibly, hideously ugly. I grew up really confused about that fact, I spent a lot of time scrutinizing myself in the mirror and trying to figure out where I had gone so horribly wrong. What was it about me that was so disgusting? A difficult quest at best, because the person who was teaching me this about myself was telling me these things because of issues HE had, not because of issues that I had. 

But as a six year old, you don't have the ability to discern whether the person who is entrusted with your development is qualified to help shape your sense of self worth or not. 

As children, we tend to believe what we are told. For instance, my sister used to tell me I was loud, sticky, and funny. I believed her. (I think, actually, that's a pretty accurate assessment. One I'll own proudly to this day, although I've learned to temper the loud bit somewhat, I still find myself sticky, dirty, and the butt of my own jokes frequently.)

Yup, that's me. Yup, she taped my mouth shut. I identify so much more with this girl!

One day in high school, I met a boy named Kris who introduced me to the idea of learning to love myself. This was a strange, foreign concept which seemed selfish at best. Kris was patient with me while I learned the edges of the beginnings of what it would be like to one day learn that lesson, and for that, I am forever grateful to him. He was the beginning of my becoming. Oh that we all can have a Kris in our lives!!

Anyway, my point here is that as I grew older, and I removed my stepfather from my life, and I began to heal from my interaction from him, I began to be able to discern his voice inside my ego concept. I began to sort. Wait a second, this is from him, not from me. 

I could, like seperating white checkers from black ones, put things on one side that came from my heart, and hear his voice inside my own in other things and put those things on another side. Learning to hear the person who taught you something about yourself is often very difficult, because if we learn the lesson from a trusted source, we also learn to continue to tell ourselves that concept as truth.

For instance, "You are lazy." If you were told this for years as a child, you will learn to say it to yourself, because you were taught this about yourself, and it becomes "I am lazy." This is the programmers concept now being repeated in your voice to yourself. And now you REALLY believe it. It has become enough truth that you are telling it to yourself, and this makes tracking the source and sourcing the truth of the statement very very difficult.

When I think about this, I wonder how much of our selves are defined by other peoples off handed comments and concepts along the way. Who told you that you had limits? Physical, emotional, artistic? Who told you you couldn't sing, or dance, or weren't an athlete? Who told you you'd never be great? Who told you who you are before you had a chance to become who you can be?

I'm sharing this because my belief is that we are all becoming, every day. I don't believe in limit. I believe in living. I believe that if we work hard to remove the limits of our learned ego, and then to set our own egoic definitions aside, we can approach everything, even that which we've been doing our whole lives, with a beginner's mindset. With joyful, childlike, limitless humility. With a desire and ability to LIVE!

 

On the beach in Martha's Vineyard 1989. Still confused about who I am, I have several cutting scars on my arm.

It is okay to be bad at something. Its okay to be a beginner at something. Its okay to try something, to try something again! Its okay to let go of all you thought you knew and start over. Its okay to believe in yourself when no one else does. 

In the last four years, I've learned that I'm not ugly. What I didn't realize was that (and here is how powerful our minds can be), I didn't become un-ugly four years ago.

I had managed to untangle my concept of how I look from the decision point forward, but I hadn't been able to go back and give grace to the girl of my past, not the child, not the teenager, not even the young mother.

Seeing this prom picture brought me back to how powerful our concept of our self can be, how limiting it can be, and it made me wonder, if we could all hear criticism in our lives and use it as lesson, but not as ultimate fact, how far would we all go? What could you achieve if you weren't gullible enough to believe you had limit, but you were humble enough to stay a beginner?

The Non-Overnight Success: How Twitter Became Twitter by Tim Ferriss

A wonderful new blog post by Tim Ferriss!!


What did Twitter look like before it was Twitter? Let us begin the story with an image…

Jack Dorsey’s first sketch for what would become Twitter (Photo: Jack Dorsey and d0tc0m)

This photo was first shown to me by Peter Sims, a former venture capitalist and now friend.
Pete and I share a number of common interests: wine, K-os, long dinners, and above all… little bets.
It’s a favorite topic of conversation.

Perhaps a year ago, after a quick tour of the Stanford Institute of Design (d.school), Pete and I sat talking about start-ups in Tresidder dining hall. He was working on a new book about innovation, which he wanted to bridge different worlds, to explain the shared traits of the game changers.

The question he posed was simple: if you look at the biggest successes in the world, whether Apple CEO Steve Jobs, comedian Chris Rock, or award-winning architect Frank Gehry, what do they have in common?

Answer: the bigger they are, the more small bets they make.

Becoming the best of the best is less about betting the farm (a common misconception) and more about constant tinkering. Within Pixar or within Amazon, there is a method to the madness, but it’s not haphazard risk-taking.

In the following guest post, Peter will look at the unlikely evolution of a little tool. It’s a little tool now used to overthrow governments, and a tool that’s become a company some value at more than $10 billion: Twitter.

How the hell did it happen?…
To find out, click here and read the rest of the post on Tim Ferriss's blog!