The ghost of who you were can be a guide for who you are becoming

Yesterday, I was in an amazing Ashtanga workshop at Arjuna Yoga in Aspen. I was looking at myself in the mirror, and I was confronted suddenly with who I had been. 

Ashtanga. The first series of Hatha Yoga. One Hundred Breaths here.

When you dedicate your life to healing, and you feel like you are making progress, sometimes its shocking to see vestiges of who you once were, or to hear old stories about what is true playing out in real time. 

It took me by surprise and shook me hard.

I have been so happy to have the opportunity to examine what drives me, why I made the choices I made, to ferret out emotional responses that exist because of past triggers. In therapy and over the years in personal practice, I have been able to face those sometimes very frightening automatic responses and dissect them, exposing their origin and rewiring its power over me. 

In any journey, there are more difficult sections. Over this summer, I've been enjoying a bit of a respite from what sometimes feels like forced Becoming. Readers that have been with me for a long time might remember posts where I asked, annoyed, "Can I stop learning now? Can this not be a day where I have to be humble and learn another lesson? Can I just rest and be enough today?" And the answer has often been no. You can not rest if there is work that needs to be done. 

And sometimes it is yes. And often, a period of rest is preparing you for your next big evolution.

And since tryouts ended in April, and because of the gentle and loving support of some good friends, I had the opportunity to not be under scrutiny suddenly. I was not surrounded by mentors who kindly hold the mirror up every day and ask for more. I was at the beach. In the sun. It was amazing.

Since I got back, Ive slowly relaxed into enjoying my summer jobs, Downhill Mountain Biking is freeing and fun and its incredible to be a teacher in a sport like this. The barriers to entry seem huge. People look at the gear and the pads and the jumps and the bikes and they think, "I could never do that."

But they can. And showing people that there is so much more to themselves than they ever bargained for is why I am passionate about teaching. 

But in order to be a great teacher, I think you have to be an outstanding student. Especially of yourself. And while there is a LOT for me to learn about riding DH, there isn't the depth of instructors at Aspen yet. There isn't this level of technical accountability that drives me in skiing. (There is in the sport, just the school is young, and we are learning as we go.)

And so to fill my need to be a student with a guru, I continued my yoga practice, crossing my fingers that I'll get the Bikram scholarship so that I can go to LA for nine weeks and get my ass kicked as a student, and emerge with another level of Becoming unfolded, lick my wounds, be grateful for them, and put all that into my winter teaching skiing and massage. 

Its a strange cycle. And I wasn't really planning on having to do that work until I went to teacher training. But I accidentally started studying before I left for Bikram.

Your teacher shows up when you least expect it. Sharon Caplan continues to learn while she teaches, inspiring us all during every class.

A few months ago, I started an Ashtanga yoga practice with this very gentle teacher whom I admire greatly, Sharon Caplan. She has an incredibly giving heart, she is incredibly inspiring in her demonstration, showing depth of practice that is beyond a physical yoga body. I don't really know how to describe it. She expects you to give all you have to give. She expects you to be accountable for your health and injury situation. She doesn't demand. But you'd be a fool not to take all she offers. 

So I'm standing in class. And I’m looking in the mirror. In general, I like what I see. (Im not talking about the body, I'm talking about the person. The body seems to be a reflection of the person.) And I begin to see glimmers of these old beliefs about myself, some of which I had worked through. Some of which are being revealed as the practice strips away armor I didn’t know I still had. 

Old Belief : (This I know is not true, but the whispers surprised me and took my strength) I look strong, but I’m not, I’m heavy. People who think I am strong are fooled by how my body holds weight. 

Belief: All of my strength comes from my mind. When I believe I am strong, I behave as a strong person does. (Part of this belief is true, but I think it needs to be framed right.)

I’m believing that one because when I am not attached to other people’s concept of me, but happy to be who I am where I am, practicing and training for my health and equanimity, I am strong. I can do all the flows, all the chattarangas. That I can do that is not a measure of my physical capabilities over someone else’s. It is a measure of my belief in myself and my dedication to my practice, which lends me strength, and as a result, strengthens my body over time.

Here is the doozy that I realized was pointing at truth:

Belief: Although I have gotten stronger over time, my core is weak, has always been weak, will always be weak, and is a weakness that I must work around. 

I know that beliefs like this are crutches. This is a road block. My core will not get strong until I look in the emotional mirror and decide that I have lived under the power of suggestion that my core is weak, has been weak and will always be weak, therefore, I work around it, I compensate, I protect the weakness so that I have an excuse. 

I used to be ruled by a disappointment that I didn't, and couldn't look like this. Now I'm so happy just to look like me.  But acceptance is different than complacency.

In order to change this belief, I have to be willing to make my core strong. To look right at it, not to work around it or compensate for it. Just like a lousy drop shot in tennis. You want to have a whole game? Your lousy drop shot is now your favorite shot, eventually developed into your most deadly weapon. Want to be a whole person? Welcome to your fear that keeps you from exploring a weakness you covet. 

Seeing this belief in the mirror hit me hard. Because once a Victim Crutch like this is exposed, if you are really a student of Becoming, you have a responsiblity to unpack that shit and get to work. 

Tummy issues are difficult. Not just for women, for everyone. And we all have our story. 

Ive grown to love and except my little paunch, a beautiful result of making two people. I don’t really mind that the skin on my belly is stretched and it doesn’t look like it did when I was 20.

I do mind that the strength under the skin is something I’m not willing to look at or change. Or haven’t been until now. I’ve paid lip service to it, I’ve strengthened my body all around it. But I haven’t run right at the thing that scares me. 

Our bellies have been described as our seat of creativity, our intuition and our will. Its is for this reason that I often do belly massage in massage therapy sessions. Cultivating love and joy for the soft home of creation. But in my own practice, grateful as I am for the creative space, I have accepted weakness as part of who I am. 

If I want to grow and become, I need to examine that belief. Because physical manifestations are so often just reflections of how we view ourselves. What am I protecting by not going in there? 

I journied back in my mind through the healing of beliefs I’ve encountered before, and I realized that this area, this belief system, is really deep, and really protective. 

Initially, I always kept a layer of fat on my belly to keep the monster at bay. Readers who have visited with me for a while will know that as a young child, I was abused by a man who I trusted to be a parent to me. 

I don’t hold any resentment or anger at him, he behaved the way that he did because of factors in his life that drove his behavior. Ultimately, I received the gift of examination and healing because of this obstacle. Un-believing the things I learned about myself at his hands has been a good practice for me, it is like looking for treasure in a dark and treacherous cave. There’s really nothing scary inside there unless you let the shadows tell you stories. And if you are diligent, you will find gold. 

Its either opportunity or fear. You chose.

And so. 

I feel these whispers, and its a familiar sensation, and I am momentarily frustrated because I feel like I’ve healed this place already. Its annoying to have to go back and re lay foundation.

But when I take a closer look, I realize only the sensation is familiar. Old whispers are an indication that we are close to a protected place that no longer serves. This isn't a place I've healed. This is a place I've not even visited.

The hint of disappointment and self rebuke, which once was so loud, is now just an invitation to discovery. The familiar sensation is my internal teacher telling me there is work I can do here that will lead to freedom. I know there is nothing real or scary in the cave. 

I know to run at the thing that scares me.

I know that in the darkness, with patience and diligence and willingness, I will find a piece of treasure. And if I examine it carefully, I will be rewarded with Becoming. With new clarity, new space between me and my story.

Its time to learn again.

Find your edge. Look over it. Don't jump off of it.

Lets say all kinds of light bulbs went off yesterday and you found your compassionate mind. You use it when you are standing in line for coffee. You ask if it is the compassionate choice to spend the $5 on a latte, knowing that it will be painful at the end of the month, causing stress and anxiety when you go to pay your rent. This impacts how you feel about you, your ability to save and spend wisely, this affects your relationships, this affects your ability to let your kids go to skate camp if they want to.

Your compassionate mind is not at work. Your automatic mind is not allowing you to let discomfort be your most tender teacher.

You order a drip instead of a latte. You feel warm, loved, cared for, content when you make this choice. You just put $50 back in your bank account over the next week. It is the compassionate choice.

How else can you use your compassionate mind?

In Yoga, we talk about going to your place of benefit. On the mat, it works like this:

In each posture, go only to your place of benefit on that day in that posture and go no further. Never sacrifice depth in a posture for alignment.

Its easy to say this, its harder to live it. Our western minds like the idea of being excellent at something. Of being best in the class, better than the person next to us. We get some satisfaction in excelling. We like to have our successes seen and lauded. If we aren't doing as well as we believe we can, we often want people to know it.

We throw our tennis rackets, or we roll our eyes or we sigh loudly, or we shake our heads. All of these silent (or not so silent) signals to whoever might be watching that we are frustrated because usually, we are better than this.

What if you were able to lay down your ego attachment, your idea that it matters what other people think, how they judge you, and then, even better, how you judge yourself?

What if in each moment, you did only what you needed to do according to how your body was feeling on that day. What if you could find the Ultimate Expression of the posture for YOU on that day in that moment?

The Ultimate Expression exists. You've seen pictures. Its Seth Morrison hucking off the cliff. Its Shane McConkey's back flip. Its Kelly Wade putting her toes on her head. Its Kate Giampapa flying Amanda in the air. Its Sharon Caplian in full extension. Its your best friend getting straight A's without studying.

The reason that an Ultimate Expression exists in yoga postures is because yoga is a life long activity. And as you age, and you continue your practice, your body changes. And over time as your body changes, you need a lamp post to head towards. A beacon. Its like a fairy light, a destination that is always moving further away as you approach it.

We in the west tend to think of the Ultimate Expression as a benchmark for how "good" we are at Yoga. A lot of us want to compare our ability to get close to the ultimate expression when we first begin our practice as a benchmark for our innate talent at yoga.

And you can be "Good" at yoga. But not because on your first day you can put your head on your knee. As one of my favorite teachers said, you aren't going to reach enlightenment when you can put your head on the floor. There's another step after that one, anyway.

You can be good at yoga because you practice the right way.

Because you have the discipline to look for your Place of Benefit and go with full commitment to that place but NOT PAST IT.

Past his place of benefit and unaware of it, most likely. The enticing goal of getting head to knee is tempting him past his place of benefit. His standing leg is bent, he has sacrificed the entire benefit of the posture for the goal of being "good" at it. Unfortunately, this is how you get hurt in yoga. You go past your place of benefit in search of victory. 

My little sister travels in the summer. She goes all over the world, and as she goes, she practices yoga. Recently, she was in Israel practicing. The studio where she had just bought an introductory week long pass was having some internet difficulty. My sister is a bit of a SEO genius. She offered to help the studio. They happily agreed. In exchange, they'd give her a free month of yoga.

Unfortunately, before they could have their first meeting, the week was expiring. My sister's yoga practice is important to her. She was worried. Would she have to find that $130 to practice for the month?

The studio told her, "Don't worry, we'll start your month and we can meet next week."

My sister asked the owner, "How do you know that's a good choice for you? What if I don't keep my end of the bargain? How can you trust me?"

The studio owner answered, "Oh, its okay, we've seen your practice. We know it will be fine."

Now, my sister has a beautiful practice. She does not go to the ultimate expression, she is a beginner. She's been doing Bikram for about a year. She tries the right way, in every posture, finding her place of benefit, all the time.

Sometimes, her place of benefit is in child's pose on the floor sitting out the posture. But this is a choice she makes by and for herself, without showing drama on her face, or pulling anyone off their mat and onto hers while she makes the choice to back off. She just sees her edge and backs off.

The amazing Sharon Caplain likes to say, "Find your edge. Look over it. Don't jump off of it."

We all want to try our hardest.  But how do you know you are trying your hardest? Can you tell because you are trembling, and sweating and breathing so hard? Maybe you are trying physically your hardest with your muscles. But there is more to practice, and more to life than that.

What if it is hardest for you to pay attention to your injury in your knee? What if its the hardest to back off in general because you had a huge day already? Do you need to announce to the world that you hiked up smuggler and then rode your bike to Basalt and back or can you just do your practice for yourself to your place of benefit on this day and let that be enough? Can you LAY DOWN YOUR EGO? And rather than being defeated by your injury, you come to class anyway and focus on how to go to your place of benefit with your knee in mind?

Now you are trying your hardest, but you aren't trembling and shaking.

Do you miss trembling and shaking? Do you like to tremble and shake because that tells the teacher you are trying hard?

What if you didn't need to tell the teacher, and everyone else in the room, with your body and your breath that you are trying your hardest? What if you just know it internally? What if you were enough for you, and your practice was about you, your health, your strength?

What if being good at yoga meant being dedicated to finding your place of benefit in each posture, according to how your body felt on that day?

Everyone to their place of benefit and no further. A room full of mindful practice. Bliss, joy and FREEDOM exist in discipline of this kind. 

Over time, when you have a dedicated yoga practice, you get popped into the big picture. You see your body evolving over time. You see that on one day, your legs are tight, and on the next, you stretch more than ever. You see your body staying the same for three weeks and suddenly opening for a week. You realize that you are never going backwards because over time, your body is changing. Internally.

Your ability to metabolize waste is changing, your patience is changing, your concentration is changing, your equanimity is changing. And your hamstrings are changing.

So you have this huge moment of relief when you realize, its not about me stretching an inch more today than I did yesterday, or an inch more than the person next to me. Its about finding excellence in the discipline to try the right way.

And when I try the right way, I am full of compassion for myself, and my body is rewarded with a safe, strengthening, liberating practice.

And then you walk off the mat and you ask yourself, where is my place of benefit today? In the office, on the hike, on the phone. It leads you back to the compassionate choice. And from here, there is security and solidity, a willingness to explore the unknown, because you can trust yourself to come from the compassionate place.

Am I in danger of becoming one of those mat-carying douche bags I see around town? Ugh. Screw it. Lets watch TV.

Last night, I was thinking about how many people end up on my massage table wishing that they felt better. They ask me, what can I do not to get these knots? Can I get better so I'm not in so much pain? Can I learn to sleep without sleep aids? What about my anxiety? Can I cure it?

I think you don't have to walk around with knots in your back. I think you can reduce your anxiety and your insomnia. But the answer to the question everyone asks (because its almost always the same question, just phrased differently) is that I don't have a pill for you to take to replace the one you are currently taking.

The ultimate in freedom or doucheyness? It depends on if you cary judgement or you make the compassionate choice for yourself. 

I can give you some relief on the table, but you have to be an active participant in your body work to get the best benefit. 

Healing your body and calming your mind is a life long process. People say "Its a life style change." And I think that's true, but I think its scary to people.

Because we are all ego-attached, our lifestyle to some extent defines our ability to desire change. If I now behave like the people that have THIS kind of lifestyle, am I going to end up being one of those mat-carrying douche bags who eat organic food and seem so superior? Can I still hold onto my conservative political views and get body work?

I think the first answer to this is that whether you carry a mat around or eat organic food does not define you as a person. We restrict what we are capable of SO OFTEN by worrying what other people will think. 

She can either be concerned about the world at large making assumptions about her carrying her mat, or she can just get her ass to class because it helps her health. She can also make assumptions about herself if she carries a mat around. Or she can just get her ass to class because that's where she heals her spine.

Before you assign yourself a regimen that is completely different from what you are doing now, and decide to turn yourself in to something you dislike because you've heard it might help; leading you to a half assed practice with one foot in the pool of a new direction and your old life holding on to your other leg... consider this.

What is the compassionate choice?

Yes, that may seem very rainbows and dolphins, but here's the thing. No one can tell what your internal life is. And if you ask yourself this question you may be surprised at the answer. Because the compassionate choice looks at the big picture. Its not "How do I feel right now?" or "I should" or "You suck if you don't" or "I can't commit to that"...leading you to slowly talking your way out of change today with the promise that once you get through your taxes and get your apartment clean you will look at options for your back pain, your lethargy, your anxiety, your insomnia.

Is it compassionate to continue doing what you are doing now? If you looked at it as other people: if you could take your decision making mind and personify it, sit it down next to you on the couch and watch it interact with the child like you that does what your Mind you tells it, it might look like this:

What would it be like if you found a place that felt like THIS when you chose not to eat another oreo, or not to drink that beer, or to go outside and walk, or to go to yoga where your back can heal?

Mind: "You are tired. You should sit here on the couch and eat chips. You can go for a walk tomorrow. Lets work up to the idea of yoga. You don't have to go today. That would be hard, and probably hot, and difficult. Maybe you should lift weights for a while to get in shape to go to yoga. That's a good idea. Drive by the gym tomorrow or the next day and see what they have."

Body: "Okay." munch munch.

Compassionate Mind: "WAIT! If you do that, you are hurting yourself! The choice you are making is ultimately painful! You will be angry that you didn't do any exercise, angry that you are incapable of making change! The anger will compound and will become a story that you begin to believe about yourself, that you just suck at this, that you have to be in pain."

Extrapolate it further. What if you could see the choice you make, the choice you allow yourself to be talked into, your Automatic Negative Thought is the same as letting yourself stay in an abusive relationship? You are being manipulated because change is scary. That which is familiar is known and therefore more welcome than the unknown of LIFESTYLE CHANGE.

Maybe that's too much of a nut to crack all at once. 

Maybe a compassionate choice is to have a little grace for the process, and let it unfold over time.

Maybe it starts with just learning to find your inner compassionate mind. The piece of you that can ask, is this the compassionate choice?

If I eat this whole pizza, momentarily satisfying my craving, or my obsession, or my compulsion, I am handing the reigns of control over to immediate gratification. And if I deny myself by saying, "THATS NOT GOOD DON'T DO IT." I will have about as much luck as my mom did trying to keep me inside my house when I was fifteen. None.

So often the part of our mind that keeps us making the same choices is a piece of our mind that asks us to be willing to be treated like this. Is this the compassionate choice? 

When we come down hard on ourselves, there is an element of judgement that keeps the gift of the new choice from feeling like a gift. We hear thoughts like "Better people can do this. This is too hard for me. If I really cared to get to my goal of not binge eating, not sitting on the couch all day, getting active, I would JUST STOP."

But we can't JUST STOP. We become attached to that which makes us feel good in the short term. And I'm talking about all of us. I'm talking about the guy with the chronic low back pain, not just the addicted eater or the chronic depressive. 

So when you allow yourself to develop that compassionate mind, you can change. You can say, I know that if I eat this whole pizza I will hate myself tomorrow. I will be angry and feel fat and know that now I have to go undo it all in the gym when I could be moving forward. I will cary guilt and shame at my lack of discipline. I will see all the fit bodies walking around who are able to control themselves, and each one of them will serve as a judgement against my ability to succeed. 

It is so much more compassionate for me to make a different choice right now. To stop wherever I am, and be grateful that I was able to listen to that compassionate mind. To listen with gratitude to the me that says, it is kinder not to eat this. 

Now, you can look at other compassionate choices. And different things work for different people. You  might start just by walking. Go outside and look around. Do you need to buy a whole yoga wardrobe and sign up for monthly unlimited and go every day?

No. You'll probably hurt yourself. That's not balanced, either. And the middle path is the compassionate path. And what the middle path looks like, the balanced path, will change as your ability to be compassionate to yourself changes. As your body changes. As what is truly important to you changes. 

It becomes easy to make the compassionate choice, even though it may lead to a difficult activity, because it feels like you caring for yourself. And a bonus of this kind of living, when you treat yourself with grace and compassion, and begin living from that place, you fill up like a vessel. And then you overflow. And THEN, you can help others make the compassionate choice, because you have energy to give. 

You are not giving from an empty, over-taxed place. You can ask, do I have this to give? Because that's the compassionate choice. Not the selfish choice. There is a difference. 

So yes. You don't have to live in pain. You don't have to be scared, and anxious, and a victim of your story. You can become whoever you were meant to become, regardless of your history, your past, your fears. 

If you really want this for yourself, starting from developing a compassionate mind will help you build a set of guidelines that make it easy for you to grow your wings and leave behind that which no longer serves you!

You are hereby UNGROUNDED.

Ethan, my 10 year old, has given me permission to talk about his experience starting a Bikram Yoga practice. Thanks, Ethan!

At the end of the school year, we were all kind of at our wit's end. I had been training my brains out and hadn't been around my kids enough. They were ready for summer, and ready for mom to be home. They both started acting out in their own way, as we do when we aren't quite happy with the status quo.

Ethan started getting in trouble, and he started getting grounded. The trouble was, he couldn't make it through one grounding before the next one started. I was frustrated, he felt like a failure, and the whole system was broken.

The trouble he was getting in was "little" trouble, but it started growing. There were small matters of integrity which started leading to larger matters of integrity. White lies snowballing. Sneaky behavior.

When I caught him yet again, we had another one of our fantastic, in depth talks which seem to lead no where and do nothing. I had already taken away his legos, his books, he'd been banned from the computer. There was nothing left to take. He was living in a jail state. And learning nothing.

I asked him, "E, how do we get you to learn to make the difficult decision because its the right decision?"

He answered me honestly. "I don't know."

Intellectually, he understood that it was important to have integrity. He understood that the desire to make the right choice needed to come from within him, rather than from fear of getting in trouble.

He was sad and frustrated and so was I. There was a rift in our trust, there was a crack in our relationship. Neither one of us wanted that break, and neither one of us knew how to fix it.

Yeah, I used to get in a lot of trouble, too.

I was in yoga one day, and I was laying in Savassana, and I thought of his little face. I remember being ten years old. I remember being in so much trouble so much of the time. I remember just waiting for my grounding to end so that I could get in more trouble for some other stupid reason like forgetting to put the toothpaste cap on.

I couldn't differentiate between the scale of the mistakes I was making because I was in so much trouble so much of the time, that trying at all seemed pointless. I remember deciding that I'd just stop climbing out my window and sneaking around and just start walking out the front door because, fuck it, I was already in trouble, what more could they do?

Obviously, by the time I came to that conclusion, I was about 13 years old and had years of never making it through a grounding or winning my parent's trust back under my belt.

I didn't want this for Ethan.

The teacher in the Bikram class I was in called for us to change, to turn around and lay on our bellies to prepare for the spine strengthening series. I was hot, tired, soggy and sad about Ethan. But I heard the instruction, and I rolled over on my tummy and prepared.

I did not show the drama on my face, I did not sigh, or grunt, or breathe. I kept an expression of calm on my face because that's what you do in yoga.

And then it hit me. All the lessons I was hoping that Ethan would learn by punishing him, he could learn right here in the yoga room.

I rushed home from class and asked him, "Hey. What if we completely unground you, give you back all of your privileges, all my trust, lets just DO OVER. But you have to come to Bikram for a month, and you have to do what the teacher says."

He looked at me. Anything was better than being grounded.

"Okay." He said.

I was worried, I was concerned that he would pull other people off of their mats with kid drama, with worry for how he was doing, if he could survive the heat, I was worried for my own practice that it would suffer because I'd be parenting him the whole time.

Yoga is part of every day for Ethan, now.

We got there early. We set up by the door. I talked to Caroline, the owner of Arjuna Yoga, who was teaching the class. She gave Ethan a camping chair to rest his back agains, I gave him my Bikram's Beginning Yoga Series Book and off we went.

Our first goal was to minimize the drama. So when it got hard, he was not to show it on his face. The tougher decision, which was the right decision, was to take care of himself. To decide if he could push through the feeling of it being hot, or hard, and either continue to try or sit in childs pose. No sighing, no calling attention. Could he be accountable for his own practice.

This turned out to be his whole practice. He came to nine classes, and after the fourth one, he was welcoming the heat. He reads the Bikram book during most of the standing series, and then joins in for as much of the floor series as he can.

He stays in the room. He takes care of his own practice. I don't practice near him, Caroline wisely asked me to let her be his teacher, since that's what I'm paying her for anyway. Ethan has come to class when I'm not there, even. He's the only 10 year old in a room full of adults, many of whom can't contain their drama. Finding equanimity when he has the desire for attention has been an incredibly powerful tool for Ethan.

After class one his behavior changed.

He continued to read the book, and started calling me in to look at passages. "Mom, here's a good example of integrity."

Ethan after his fifth class

A month later, I have to say, our experiment was a complete success. Ethan changed his behavior for and by himself through the discipline of yoga. He found freedom in the discipline. He found accountability. He found integrity. And he found the desire to let these things be driving traits on his own. The impetus is coming from the inside.

Being able to share this practice with him was incredibly powerful for me as well. I had to let him be taught by others, I had to let go of my worries and fears about the other people in the room. He was a paying member of the yoga studio, I had to let him be his own autonomous creature going through his own journey.

Ethan learned, all on his own, that he wanted to be trusted and respected for himself. He learned all on his own that life is hard, and sometimes the way through is not in taking the easy path, but in taking the right path. Not the path that looks right because its what everyone else is doing. The path that resonates internally as right because it is in line with your values, the things you strive for in your life. What an amazing lesson, what a gift to watch my own kid begin to wrap his mind around that concept.

I'm happy to say that Ethan seems to have found strength and peace of mind, we don't have any behavior issues right now since we started this crazy experiment, and our rift... well it was mended the day I asked if he wanted to go to yoga. We are closer than we've ever been, and thats because he chose to ask more of himself and I chose to let him walk that path, extending him trust even though I had thought it had been exhausted.

Finish.

About six weeks before tryouts happened, I was cooked. I had been training for six years, I was as strong as I was going to get. I was tired of not eating sugar and bread, and I really wanted a beer. I wanted to not go to yoga twice a day, I wanted to be done training, thinking, watching ski videos, focusing so hard.  After all, I had put in so much time. It was as good as it was going to get, right?

My friend Peter was in town, and we talked about this pre event slump. Ive experienced it before, and I know other athletes struggle with it as well. There is this strange time where you want to sit down and stop working so hard because you've been working so hard. It exists in the time when your schedule is about to change, but it hasn't yet. 

You are anticipating the event, and you know that the week before the event is going to include all kinds of changes, packing, arranging travel, your focus has shifted from long term prep to short term logistics. When you are six or four weeks out, you know that time is coming, but it hasn't come yet. You still need to be working.

Peter and I decided to go down valley and get tattooed. I chose the word FINISH. I wanted to do something that would motivate me when I saw it in the mirror. A long time ago, when I was a student at the Beverly Hills Playhouse, studying acting with Jeffrey Tambour, he gave me a one-word note for the whole season. "Finish." what he meant was to find every thread of each piece of the scene, and really finish each piece. 

Twenty years later, I'm still using this note. This time, it meant follow through on the promise you have made to yourself. I said that I was going to do everything I could to be a viable candidate at the tryouts, easing off with six weeks to go was not in alignment with that goal. 

Finish, to me, meant to follow through with each aspect of the promise, from training, to nutrition to sleep, to warm up, to rolling out, to yoga, to no alcohol. (Im allergic to alcohol, so when I have a beer, I get a really upset stomach the next day. The cumulative effect is not a peak performance situation for me.)  

Finish meant don't say that you want to go to the top and then not do every single thing in your control to get there well. Not just to show up, but to show up knowing that you aren't leaving anything undone. 

I would see that tattoo in the mirror, and it would remind me that I had made this promise, and that even if I was tired, or wished I didn't have to do this, I had said that I would, and it was time to man up and get it done as well as it could be. 

It encouraged me to stay in each posture with good form no matter how tired or sore I was until the teacher said, "Change". It encouraged me to order Kale and ask for no bread. It made it easy to stick to my guns about not drinking alcohol, even though lots of people would tell me, "Kate, you aren't any fun when you do this, skiing is supposed to be fun. We should party."

I definitely got called a party popper more than once. But I know myself. I know that my biggest challenge is getting my feet to perform as well as they need to. Skiing is the easy part for a lot of the people I was trying out against, they've been doing it long enough that they can have a little hang over or be a little tired and still pull it off. For me, if I wanted to keep my word to myself, to my first coach, Mike, to my school, Aspen, to all the sponsors who had been there for me, to my family who had supported me, to my benefactors who made it possible for me to eat good food and train hard and rehab properly from surgery, I needed to focus on what I needed to do, regardless of whether it seemed "fun" to my friends or not. 

It was a huge commitment. I missed my friends, I missed my kids. Kurt and I were working hard. And I kept my part of the bargain. Finish got me to Utah, through academy, and into our own little condo with no distractions. Finish made me run the stairs every morning even though I knew I had blown the first day of skiing. Finish made me focus on bringing my skiing up every day so that the selectors could see that under tough circumstances I could continually improve. 

Finish made me feel incredibly successful even though I wasn't selected for the team. Because I was so proud of what I had done, of what we had done, as a community, as friends. 

When I got the tattoo, it didn't even occur to me to consider how I might feel having it on my arm if I didn't get selected. I suppose it could have been a bit distressing, to see it every day and have it be a reminder that I didn't make it. But that's not how I feel when I see it. I look at it and I see six years of hard work, I see all the amazing lessons I learned along the way, the friendships I made, the support I gave and received. I see who this journey has helped me become, and I could not have become that unless I had bumped up against the wall of what was possible, wondered if I could finish, and proved to myself that I do have what it takes to go all in and push hard. 

I came out the other end a victor, even though I'm not a team member. Because I learned to Finish. 

A message from the eye of the storm!

Hello, gentle readers!

It's been a while since I've sat down to write a blog post. I suppose I was taking an unintentional break, and I actually wasn't sure I was going to continue writing this blog. But I think all the time of things I'd like to continue sharing with you, and I've gotten SO MANY lovely emails encouraging me to continue to write that what the heck, here we go again.

spring cleaning of the boys room led to this interesting collection of treasures...

I'll probably do that thing where I throw up five or six of the blog posts that I owe you in the next few days, and then settle back in to once a week through the summer season. Thanks so much for your patience while I rested and got the summer season sorted.

So heres a quick update of life since tryouts, and when its warranted, I'll expand on some of these as bigger posts.

Laying around on the ranch with the boys for all of May and June was post tryout recovery...

In a nutshell, Things are awesome! We went to North Carolina with POC to learn to Kite Surf, and it was an amazing week on the outer banks which I feel really fortunate to have participated in. I have lots of incredible pictures and it was just awesome to get to play with so many talented athletes that POC supports.

When we got home, I spent a couple of weeks playing with my kids and laying around on the lawn. Ethan started a bikram practice, which is really helping him with some behavior issues he was facing. That was a bizarre parenting decision that I'm excited to share with you.

I applied for a scholarship to the Bikram teacher training which takes place in September, so stay tuned, they only give one a year and results come out July 15. My fingers are crossed, my spine is strong, my body is healthy and my kids are behaving thanks to this awesome yoga method, I would love love love to become a teacher and be able to incorporate this method into my travel coaching.

Made the switch from skiing to riding, got the bikes out and put the skis away for now!

Then, Aspen Summer Words happened, and I had submitted a ten page sample of a novel I've been working on for a decade but haven't shown to anyone. I was hoping for some feedback, and instead, I was asked to submit the full manuscript to two agencies by the end of July. They are excited and interested and I'm thrilled! (but oh my god, I better get writing.)

Ethan, back on track, enjoying rebuilding and retiring a robot arm.

Luckily, I have had some good fortune in my massage career. I gave a massage to the owner of A spa magazine, and he was really happy with the work. right after that happened, things started falling into place, and I picked up two new clients for whom I am building a private massage space in their home. This is a super fun project, and I'm so grateful because the work allowed me to put Ethan in mountain biking camp and Bodhi in Theater Aspen's summer camp. It also allowed me to buy myself a laptop so I don't have to try to finish this novel on my iPad!!

The amazing Kurt builds up my new 29" Giant Anthem xc bike. Yes, I'm going to pedal this year.

Right after that, our Bike Park opened, and it was time to ride! I've been riding Kurt's old road bike, but haven't had a chance to get out and get dirty. The boys have been working hard on the trials, and Gravity Logic finished the Valhalla trail. It's got 55 jumps on it now! I rode it for the first time on Thursday and raced on it on Friday night! It's incredible.

Ethan blessing out after his fifth Bikram class

My DH bike is down right now with a severe case of chain guide itis, so I raced on Kurt's xc bike. (uh, scary.). Thanks to my amazing sister, I'm kitted out in a new Leatt DBX Pro neck brace to protect my internal bling, and my neck felt okay.

Opening day action on our new features in the Fruit Bowl!

I had been worried about how my neck would feel in it's first trip to the DH park since the two level cervical spinal fusion in September, but thanks to hard work, yoga, good food and the awesome support of friends and family, it's healthy and strong. It was sore, but it's gotten used to the jouncing. Now, after riding for a week, it feels really good.

Downhill mountain biking certification course at Winter Park

I headed over to Winter Park last week for a DH mtb certification course by Terra Method, the guys who certify all the Whister pros, and I passed the L1 DH Mtb certification. Yay! It's official! I worked hard on my flat land cornering and snap and bump turns, which was thrilling!

Mike, from Terra Method in Whister, teaches us all about trail repair.

We came back to a very busy bike park and got right back to work. The dirt has been incredibly lose as it hasn't rained here in weeks, but that's doing nothing but improving my riding. It's a great mental performance coaching opportunity, too.

Right off the bat, we've been lucky enough to have full clinics of eager riders who surprise themselves every day with their ability to ride in lose dirt on a big, fun, squishy bike. We are doing it! People are stoked and coming back for more!

Pedal on! Ethan and Bodhi ride the rio grande trail in Aspen.

Today, I had the good fortune to ride with some magazines that are touring Aspen, and meet some amazing and adventurous writers! I spent the morning with an Australian Womens Magazine and the afternoon with a fitness magazine. We had a great time hiking and riding hard. keep your eyes peeled for some fun articles and video that will come out of it!

Tomorrow is the second DH race of the season, and now that my DH bike is running again, I've learned a ton from the cert course, and we got some RAIN today, and m neck feels awesome, Im super stoked to see just how fast I can ride that course! It's a long long ride, nearly 3 miles and descending 4000 vertical feet.

Summer at Snowmass is proving to be very very exciting, and I am just amazed when I look around at my life. Working for the Skico is amazing, my kids are so happy and excited to be in camp! The program at the treehouse is really just awesome. Today, they took tennis lessons and went swimming at the Snowmass Club. I mean, really. That's just awesome.

That's for reading and stay tuned, there's lots coming!

Lots of love and wishing you all a happy and healthy summer!

Kate

 

Posted with Blogsy

Ride Alone (Or I'm a total Badass, in my own mind.)

I like to ride alone because I feel like a fucking rockstar even if I'm only going two miles an hour.
there's no one in front of me that I'm worried i'm keeping
and no one behind me that i worry wishes i was faster
i'm blazing along at i don't know how fast
because i don't have a computer
or a heart rate monitor
or a map for that matter
but I'm a badass because i'm spinning and spinning my legs and they feel so good
and i can feel my thighs
like the Hulk, getting huge,
ripping out of my shorts
and I think, that was the hill?
and my lungs are burning and my heart is exploding
and it doesn't matter that I'm in my mountain biking shoes
because I'm still scared of my clipless pedals
but i'm an animal none the less
and i can listen to my chick music
Brandi Carslile sings about loss in my right ear
and I pedal past the construction guys
and the river
and there's some huge hill i'm gonna have to climb back up
but for now i hunker over my handlebars
and i remember when I got my first Schwinn 10 speed
with curled handlebars
it was red and white
and I could ride all the way down
and pedal so fast when I was ten
and today i can pedal even faster
down hill i'm pushing the bike faster than gravity is pulling us and heres a corner
that i decide not to be afraid of and i lean in
and it doesn't matter that I'm on my boyfriend's old steel commuter bike
because when I'm descending I hear the sound of the wheels spinning up
and the bugs are pitting my skin
and I'm hoping they aren't bees
and I'm alternating between little spikes of fear
that i'll hit gravel
or a gust of wind will yank me off this ridiculous machine
i must be going 40 miles an hour
(and that's the beauty of no computer, in my mind... i'm flying)
and total grinning freedom
but not grinning too big
because then the bugs get in your mouth and that's kind of gross
and it totally takes my mind off of my awesome form
and I get a little bit wobbly while I'm wondering if it went actually in my mouth
or if I spit it out in time.
And my saddle bag is flapping in the breeze
while I discover that I LIKE to pedal my bike down hill on the pavement
because I know there's not going to be a big jump or a tree
or a hard corner
and so I can change gears
which I'm still figuring out how to do
(the big leaver means big effort and makes it easier on a big... wait...)
but today i got it right
and I was in the big gear
and clicking up to the other big gear
as i went screaming down the long winding hill out of Ashcroft at
a bazillion miles an hour
Johnny Cash in my right ear
I must have looked like the total badass that I felt like
because I got whistled at by the construction guy as I went speeding by
and not the big fat one either
the hot guy that looks like a surfer who drives the red truck
not that I noticed,
i was going too damn fast
fenders wobbling slightly
mountain biking shorts torn on my thigh
wheel getting faster and faster and faster
the sound of the bicycle
a song I'm learning each part of

picture sharing test

this is bodhi enjoying our pond and this app might be a great way to microblog!

Good Luck, Kristen!

One of my dearest friends I've never met, Kristen Fehrenbach, is opening a restaurant in Vermont. From everything I have seen, it looks amazing. The design is incredible. Her food, I've heard, is unreal. The journey from concept to opening must have been arduous, the journey forward will be fantastic and difficult and exciting. Maybe she'll blog about it? ;)

More details to come, if you are in Vermont don't miss this opportunity! And bring back a to-go box for me!

The stars are aligning. Kristen, I'm so proud of you and excited! Go, baby, go!!

The unveiling of the new sign.

Schedule your massage with Kate at Katehowemassage.com

Yeah, ski season is over, my body is strong and healed up from surgery, and I am excited to get back to work making your body feel the best that it can!

I have a new interim office on Cemetery Lane until the end of June, visit me there, or come see me at 02 Aspen on Main St.

Now accepting Credit Cards!  For more information, visit katehowemassage.com

I look forward to helping you relax, recover and heal!

Chaos, Entropy, a messy house, a to do list, and a cup of coffee amidst the chaos.

(Apologies, Blogger's photo editor is making me crazy. The photos are all scrunched in together, and its going up like this for now.)

After three weeks on the road, I'm home again for a good long stretch. There's lots of things to share about adventures had, and friends made, and lessons learned, and growth, and dreaming, so up on the top of my list is "write blog posts". I have a list of one word reminders for them, they look like this:

the aftermath
contentment and concern
worth and worthiness with the goal
the next four years
ask about phil
finish
Bodhi's walk
run at the thing you fear
bikram community
did that just happen
POC OBX
beginners mind
bliss in the water

I usually have a list like this that has ten or twelve topics on it, and what I want to write about usually comes out in Savassana, or during a really challenging yoga pose, or while I'm driving or walking. Hardly ever just before I fall asleep anymore, thank goodness.

I have to stop myself from writing in my head, and just write the one word down so I don't forget the topic, that word works kind of like a cork in the writing stream, and the thought stays dammed up behind it until I get to my computer and pull the cork out.

Most of the time the post is still there, waiting to be written, and sometimes, I miss the window of emotional connection to what I wanted to share and the bliss of the lesson is lost, so the writing is flat. When that happens, I'm out of balance, I've forgotten that writing in a timely manner is important, I've over balanced something else to the detriment of remembering and sharing something I learned on my journey.

Ski stuff, kite stuff, beach stuff, winter stuff, bike stuff, the seasons are crossing over, the travel has come to an end and things are really really messy.

Most times I just let those go, sometimes, I force the concept out anyway and wish it held the impetus of the moment in the writing.

Now that I'm back home, I have about six weeks before biking season starts, and I have thoughts and fears and opportunities in these six precious weeks. I have a loose plan, which includes things like:

Spend lots of time with the kids.
Check on Independence Pass ski possibilities before we lose all the snow
Stay in shape
Maybe get in better shape
mail flyn's apron
pick up Kurt's
get bike tuned
get ass on bike
check into Crossfit situation, make a decision and a commitment
Grocery shop, relearn how to cook
Unearth bikes and massage stuff
redo massage website
sort stow and put up ski stuff
look into race camp (portillio, hood, cost?)
write Bikram scholarship
read the seven books I've been putting off
apply for kids camps scholarships
Finish second edit of novel
Finish screen play
Book proposals
write out aps concepts, find developers
ed materials compilation and workbook
taxes
(funny those two things come after each other in my head)
fly the trainer kite with the kids
get Bodhi in skate camp
get computer running well again
hang up hammock
write thank yous
tag photos
clean house top to bottom, sort all crap and throw tons of shit out

I don't really feel like I "can" do any of those things until I do the last one.

But the truth is, I'd just rather not do any of those things when I am in a messy environment with the weight of all I've been putting off hanging over my head. Cant and don't want to are two very different things.

The trick is to get into a head space where you can take the wins for the few things you HAVE gotten done, feel the intention for the next thing you will do, and be grateful for the work you are currently doing. Sometimes it will be a 12 hour marathon push. Sometimes it will be ticking shit off the list so you can feel like you are getting things done.

I hate writing in a messy house, with other pressing concerns all around me, which brings me to the icky list:

deal with student loans
deal with medical case
deal with other medical case
credit
taxes
mail
bills
budget

And suddenly, its too much.

My house is a mess, my bedroom is a mess, my desk is a mess, my kid's' room is a mess, and I can't get point by point through everything I need to do until I get a handle on how out of control everything feels and how overwhelming the piles are.

HOWEVER.

I have learned a trick to pull me through this situation. Because if I had my druthers, I'd do this in a certain order. I'd put everything on hold and spend two weeks cleaning and organizing my house (taking time off after school for the boys), then I'd go grocery shopping and get the food situation under control, then I'd get my exercise schedule plugged in, then I'd go down my list of writing projects and everything would be neat and tidy.

I could say, "There, that's done. Now I can do this." But if I do that, I will miss opportunity to write, to read, to play, to exercise, to love, to connect. And that is what life is about, not how tidy my desk is while I'm writing at it.

Not as bad as it has been, there is too much stuff, its time for a purge. That process is a full time commitment for about four days all day. How do we look forward to this?

Would I prefer it to be all neat and perfect? Sure. I can get a lot done faster when my environment is conducive to creativity. I walk around in a clean and tidy house with a sense of bliss. But if I wait to write until everything is in its place, I'm going to miss the boat on something. Like Ethan's new lego creation or Bodhi's new stop motion animation movie. Or laying on the floor drawing. Or going to yoga and feeling my body and my intention for it and allowing the sorting of my concept for the next four years to float through my tissues before I make a plan.

And if I'm willing to chunk it out, knowing that right now, I'm a bit behind, but these six weeks are a gift, at the end of them, I'll probably have a pretty clean house and a couple of projects under my belt. Finding gratitude in the work is the tricky part. Because its easy to flip under the line and see all you haven't done, rather than being filled and thrilled by whatever you are getting done.

So I try to look at what I can accomplish without seeing the potential consequences in the piles that are overwhelming to look at. If I look at my bedroom I'm going to either get depressed that things are so messy, or I'm going to stop everything else to get that done. And stopping everything else might be the thing to do, but it can also be a detriment. I may get my room clean and organized, but I've only been home for two days, and I would miss the opportunity to play with and reconnect to my kids because I can't get over how messy my suitcase is.

If I'm gonna do a big four day project, it should be one that has holes for yoga while the kids are at school, and may b,  and maybe it shouldn't start for another four days or so, until I've been home for a bit.

SO. Deep breath. It is appropriate that things are in chaos, because I've been traveling between snow and beach for three weeks, so everything is out. It is also appropriate that things are in chaos because one season is ending and another is beginning, and in the natural order of ending one thing and beginning another, there is a messy bit where everything overlaps.

The trees are budding. The snow is melting. Its muddy, there are leaf bud casings all over the lawn, which is trying to be tidy, but there's still winter stuff around. The nature of change is messy. The bliss in change is that things are changing, new opportunities and new life is beginning. Float along and pick up some bud casings, but don't let the fact that they are falling and making the lawn messy stop you from doing somersaults with your kids. Its a tough balance, allowing the chaos of change, embracing and living within it, and working towards the order you crave.

My desk looks like this... its months of mail, bills, writing, ideas, projects. There is order in the chaos to some extent, but its not pleasant to sit next to with it yelling at me. Its not nice to look at, either.

I spent today "chunking" projects. The trick here is not to stop moving until you get to a place where you feel like you are coming through the other side. (That means this thing, then the next thing. The next thing might be 20 minutes with a book.)

If you think of it only as tidying, you will get sucked into the "This must be perfect before I can do that" mentality that leads to paralysis.

Its also hard if you live with other people because one pile makes people leave other things around it. (Try it. Leave a coffee cup in a clean sink and come back three hours later. All the other dirty dishes in the house will have migrated to visit with their nasty friends. Its a dirty dish convention.) In my house, the push through the chaos is recognized as a quarterly "mom tidal wave" when stuff gets cleaned up by god! And the kids and Tom pitch in really well, but it took some honest conversation about not leaving your shit around just because you see stuff on the couch.

So after the kids were off to school today, I went to yoga, and then I read my book at the coffee shop, because reading these books is on my list for this six weeks, and then I picked up Kurt's new bike apron from Basalt and visited with him for a few minutes, and then came home to this mess. And I had to actively let go of wishing my house was clean as I stepped over my suitcase and the bags from the Snowbird trip and put my yoga stuff in the wash with some beach stuff.

It started snowing, so my plans to move my ski stuff to my car and then to the storage got cancelled, which made me want to stomp my feet, because I want to move things around, that has a bigger immediate affect, and I'm not emotionally ready to sit down and sort through the paper all over my desk.

So I moved bags of clothes out of the living room and into the bedroom. I hung up my wetsuit. I wrote some thank yous and realized that the next thing has to be my  scholarship application to Bikram Teacher Training because the deadline came and went while we were traveling. And that made me think about my sister and my fella and how we all fall prey to this chaos, and I knew I needed to sit down and blog before moving forward with anything else.

Blogging is discipline, it doesn't take that long, and while my chronology is getting pushed around (Id rather blog continuously in chronological order), I know that its easier for me to write a post about overcoming paralysis brought on by the big mess, and all the work ahead and the fact that I wish I could just spend this six weeks writing and playing with my kids when I'm in the middle of actively overcoming that obstacle, than it would be for me to put together a post on the most amazing vacation I've ever been on, the POC OBX trip.

So I sat down after I cleared some space, looked at the pile next to me, told it, "Your time is coming, paper, you are on my hit list." And knowing that I'm going to go hang up my laundry after I finish this post and then get through an inch of mail, I found a peaceful opening to sit down and write.

Its never gonna all be done. So take the time you need to do this part, too.

Its not pretty. Its not perfect. But it feels balanced, its all I have to give while staying sane and happy, and I'm not willing to go underwater with sadness just because I suck at filing, or there's lots of gear all over my bedroom because I'm lucky enough to lead an adventurous life that makes my bedroom sandy and the milk in the fridge sour.

This is the part of that life that includes "repack, cleaning, and sorting the detritus of an adventurous life" and I'm lucky to have this problem.

I think this is a big piece of it as well. I'm not ready to completely refocus on things that include judgement of character. I'm not angry at myself because I have a ton of stuff to do and things are messy. I'm grateful for new friends I've made, the depth of connection that Kurt and I found, new things learned, time in the sun, time walking in the sand, time skiing with friends, time testing my skill under pressure. If I turn my wrath against the mess, I lose the opportunity to nurture gratitude for all that just passed. And that would be a shame, because I made connections that deserve time for gratitude and reflection.

Once its clean and orderly, by the way, I'll do my best to keep it that way. But I hope and I know that there will be ski trips and bike trips and camping trips and projects that will throw a messy wrench into that prospect. And I'm grateful for them. And I'll welcome the entropy, and swim through the chaos, putting little pieces away until I come out the other side again.