Starburst, Hockey, and other Life Lessons

Last week I tried these mini Starburst candies that come unwrapped and bagged. There was something about the lack of effort that it took to consume these candies that turned me off. I mean, all of this sugar and gelatinous intake is much more rewarding when there is detailed and chosen work to precede. The payoff is so much sweeter when the effort is there. 

I loathe the fact that I have just used a “Wrigley” product as a metaphor for life, but you have to find the teacher in what you can. Take my brother for example; my brother turns 15 this month and he is amidst a lifestyle change that will allow him to follow his dreams. Dreams? At 15 you may ask? When I was 15 I was playing out a modern Shakespearean tragedy where the heroin kept her tear ducts intact with a magnitude of black eye liner while holding up a cardboard sign that said “anywhere but here.” 

 

My brother is moving to live with a host family that will provide him the means to play for a national youth hockey team. I still remember whispering in my toddler brother’s ear, “this is the secret to life little buddy…you go to the ocean every chance you can get, you dabble in any sport that involves a board, don’t mess with girls and you will play hockey.” Little did I know that through this front tooth shattering sport that my brother would learn and project a sense of humble passion. He would look out for his brothers. He would develop strength and agility of the body and mind. He would experience rejection and, damnit, he would come out better. Through it all, he would maintain an air about him cool as a kiwi (cucumbers are not my thing). 

My brother’s life highway has hills, but so far he has started by foot, been offered a bike, shrugged and said “sure.” Got a flat, enjoyed the freedom from the bike. Hitched a ride, enjoyed the company. The ride ends, he embraces the opportunity for exercise… I’m not alluding to optimism alone, but more to acceptance of the journey. When we dedicate our lives to an activity that fills our soul and the travel is not a steady and manageable incline, how do we stay committed to a balanced and confident life? 

Swami Satchidananda would say, “If you feel bound, you are bound. If you feel liberated, you are liberated. Things outside neither bind nor liberate you; only your attitude towards them does.” This concept of course becomes a greater challenge when personal loss, self-worth, career or relationship comes in to play. Practice with me. Practice one “set back” at a time. If you didn’t make the team in this situation of life; how will it make you better?  How will you decide to protect your brothers and sisters? How will you inspire yourself through this experience to strengthen your body and mind? And through it all…how will you stay as coooool as a kiwi.

Emotional Debt Free, 0% Interest

No one owes us. I remember sitting at the hospital next to my rehabilitating boyfriend senior year of high school for months and when he woke up angry, my mom said, “he doesn’t owe you, Chelsea.” I looked at her as if she just spoke for the first time. Shock. Awe. Wonder. Brilliance. He doesn’t owe me. 

The situations may become more petty, but not always easier when we continue to remind ourselves that no one owes us. I mean this to the most literal sense…you gave someone $5 yesterday, live as if they don’t owe you. You spent 5 years in a relationship that left you in a single bedroom apartment with divided things? Your significant other doesn’t owe you a thing, not even the missing chair to your dining room set. You’ve moved away from your home town? New friends and old friends do not owe you a thing. Anyone, I mean anyone that you’ve done favors, spent time or energy on…these beings do. Not. Owe. You.

Ok, let me explain my broken record. Do everything you do because you crave a higher sense of good. When the time comes that you need something in return, surround yourself with those that also fight fearlessly for health and well-being and subconsciously bring this to you. Know when it’s time to leave something  behind. May every reaction be classy and a true projection of you. Remove disgust, hurt, resentment and guilt rom your emotional repertoire. They tend to spoil things like pride, flexibility and resilience. Be resilient. 

If you begin to live this way, you begin to take control of your own happiness. You are the master of what you project and what you take in. I hope you know, I never once mentioned that this was easy.  If you are projecting much more than you’re taking in right now, then celebrate your abilities and fill your cup wherever you can. And sometimes you have to cry or scream or yell, “SOB!!!!” but…let these moments be minimal. When we free ourselves of those that “owe” us, we open the doors to many other things. Sometimes the things we find instead are most beautiful.

Stay Hungry

The ocean and I go way back. Just like so many before me and surely more to come after, this magnificent body of water became the container for my escape plans. I still find myself creating these tactics to run and sometimes I wonder if it will take the right person or the right mind set or if I am just hard wired for dreaming.

You’ll never find any knock to dreaming on this blog. What you will find is an exploration of letting go. Finding contentment. Relieving expectations. My life recently has been an abstract form of art. Maybe not how I expected it to look, but something intriguing and wonderful has come out of it. Odd things suddenly fall into perfect placement. Or is it that I’ve given my life up to the universe and take everything handed to me with a new ease?

A new ease doesn’t mean it’s always easy. If you too have been genetically or behaviorally designed to run, build walls or hold up your bicep and say “I can do it!” then read on. We are not flawed, we are merely curious. Life to me is as questionable as the cosmos and even when I get exactly what I wanted, I continue to inquire.

Finally, my constant exploration has started to make sense. I fought for so many years to believe that any form of dependency was weakness. I now know that this only makes you hard. Allow yourself to give in to the true desires that vibrate in your core. Just like we do in restorative yoga, give in to sensation and allow yourself to dive in to the benefits even when you are screaming like hell from the inside to get out.

Let yourself love. I never had any problem with loving; it came way too naturally to me sometimes. I mean LET yourself love. It doesn’t matter if its a person place or thing, let yourself do it. I have the honor this year of officiating the wedding of two individuals who began to shift my definition of love when I was 19. Today I received some of their thoughts on love and marriage. I asked them how they knew he/she was the one. They had many charming reasons, but my favorite came from Corey. “You’re a dreamer, and I bring you back down to Earth. Someone has to do it.” Whoever. Whatever. Wherever you let yourself love, let it bring out the best version of yourself. Do not stop being who you are. Fight fiercely to stay hungry for what makes you burn brightest. Keep dreaming, but let someone hold your hand to keep you near the ground.  

I am only five months into my budding romance. Lately I have been feeling out of balance from my “single girl” routine. Less grocery shopping, more eating out. Less yoga, more play. Less cleaning, more disorganization. Today I came home to a spotless apartment and my favorite “paper towel” love note. I’ve been telling him that one person does not give you happiness, they only fit into that space. He’s not convinced yet, but he’s willing to try. If I can give in and cry over vacuumed floors and paper towel love notes, and if he can experiment with my yogic ideals, then maybe together we will stay hungry.

Are you hungry yet readers?

 

The Ex Games

In my relationships prior to this year I survived on an air of mystery. I could be brutally honest in matters pertaining to the heart when it was recorded in writing but my verbal strategy was to remain silent until a bomb needed dropping. I don’t know if this line of attack actually worked because it led me to something beautiful or if I just learned to find beauty in the most unexpected places. 

My move to Colorado gave me a luxurious opportunity to move towards a no bullshit kind of dating. If you choose to stand in my arena, our goal is to engage in peaceful combat with the sole intention of enjoying each other. The second you lose that, it’s time to send in the next victim. This new lifestyle put me entirely in control which worked out beautifully until I was surprise attacked by a game changer. My rules have vanished in mid-air and I’m left without a weapon in sight. I’m shining at the challenge and the 20 year old version of me would probably gag at the romance I’m capable of these days. 

As a silent assassin of a girlfriend in my past, I was able to maintain communication (or at least encounters not involving lethal weapons) with most of my ghosts of boyfriends past. There is one exception to this scenario and at the peachy age of 26, I’m now starting to question if he is the mastermind behind it all. 

That brings me to the ex games of 2013. 

With the omission of those that are born with the commitment bone, the majority of relationships from elementary to enlightenment have a built in back up plan. Most conveniently, this back up plan generally consists of an ex. I’m not pointing fingers here. Highschool I had a bench of “best guy friends.” These 2^nd line heart throbs fulfilled me emotionally where I was lacking elsewhere (Insert shameful head drop). When I was cheated on in college, I called my previous boyfriend bawling and apologizing (insert shudder). When we date but are unsure, we send random notes, we stalk, we flirt; we entertain ideas. 

I’ve always envisioned a partner that would hold my back-up plans in his fist until they turned to sand; he would throw my insecurities to the wind and we would dive in. Reality check. The point of change exists when a back-up plan is no longer worth your time because you are willing to compromise or completely banish any thought of not finding fulfillment where you stand. It’s the most heart breaking, thrilling aspect of a love life that I have encountered to this day. Although I may have come close in the past, I’m taking one this challenge on step at a time. I will have one, sole misty little plan and if it doesn’t  work out, I will have one hell of an adventure; just as I have in my past. Can you really say that you haven’t enjoyed every moment of fleeting love lessons from your past? Even the unbearable hurt has led you here and even an unknown path is a wonderful place to be. 

No one wins the ex games. The finest way to finalize in your category is to share only your genuine joy for your past. Wish only happiness. Send only positive intentions. Dive into your new life with the understanding that the past will eventually move on. If you step into a new role with a veil of fear over your new bond, then instead of a long distance runner, become a sprinter. Sprint your way to the core of where you find YOURSELF and then sprint your way back to the one person that will change you and shape you into the best version of yourself. 

If sprinting fails, then sit down with your friendly gurus and listen. Actually listen. Sierrah would say, “Maybe this will end in catastrophe…or maybe you will love the shit out of him/her for as long as you can.”

Lessons from life; Grandpa Paul

Death to me has been a scarcity and a factor of spontaneity in my life thus far. Or maybe it has been for all of us. What I’m trying to say is, with the exception of my stunning great grandmother who reminded us that she was ready and lived a gorgeous amount of years, every person I have lost came as a shock. When dealing with shock and a lifelong hesitation about religion, you must find serenity in another form. 

In this realm, nature has never failed me. When we lost Lauren in her adolescence and I didn’t understand, I walked and walked until I felt her in the sunshine. When Mallory made a decision that took her from this Earth I took in the reflections of the water until I decided to keep living for her. Today as I collapsed beside my car, Fall leaves started falling at a rapid pace and circling and cycloning me until I looked up and saw the perfect opening in the clouds above Chautauqua mountain. Today I lost my grandfather. My first grandparent to lose and I know that he will continue to exist in the beauty of this world. 

I always thought that the lucky ones were aware when the end is near, when it’s time to say goodbye. But are we not all given this gift? From the moment we enter this Earth, should we live as if we are bidding farewell? My Grandpa Paul (or Pa Paul as Ethan coined and my Grandpa shined his smirk of approval) was hands down the smartest man I have ever known. He was medically, musically and intellectually sound and as a child I remember debating whether to find this terrifying or incredibly fascinating. From my earliest memory, I remember my Grandpa Paul speaking to me as if I were an intellect myself. I used to choose my phrases wisely to try to impress this man and luckily for me I was always encouraged by his awe in my own abilities. Despite any darkness that ever surrounded his life, I remember my Grandpa as a piano playing, towering comic that could converse for hours and loved to show me secrets from his past lives. I’m so glad to have known these insights. 

I was never able to speak to my Grandpa about my current career choice, but I would have loved to hear his thoughts on yoga’s representation of starting over. We begin every class as a child and we end every class in death, an ending, a re-birth. We thank the individuals in the room for being our teachers. We leave our mats and we come back again. How do we explain then, when a journey actually comes to an end? How do we find peace with final, final savasana? The answer is already there. We seek the teacher in our loss. My Grandpa will live through the lessons that he taught my mother and my aunts and uncle. He will live through the lessons that were passed down to me. He will live through the lessons that I continue to share. 

This entry is not about seeking sympathy or begging hungry readers to speak love more often. This entry is celebration of a life and lesson learned. It’s remembering to live on the way my Grandpa lived. Embrace music and create impactful sounds. Laugh loudly at the Lake. Ask questions and never lose your intellect. Share what you have. Find a way to show your oldest daughter that you care, even during your last few breaths. 

Rest in the grandest of peace, Pa Paul. 11.13.13

Can a yogi date a "non-yogi?"

Alec and I had an impactful conversation a few weeks ago questioning if we could become romantically involved with someone that was not a modern day “yogi.” My immediate answer was “yes!” but we took the time to analyze and discuss anyways because…well, we’re yogis.

The biggest personal changes I’ve seen happens in yoga teacher training. The journey is different for every single person but most of us had a moment of absolute breakdown. For me, it was why am I living in a cold climate…my heart is FROZEN, why have I fought with my family, what do I want with this career and why, dear Shiva why, do I have an impossible, magnetic attraction to bad boys and daredevils!? I left teacher training with many more questions, but the comfort that happiness is not location bound, family can be mended and awakened, careers are not you…they are just what you do, until you find one you truly love and most importantly bad boys and daredevils are simply finding yoga…off the mat (sometimes really, really high in the air).

So, can a yogi date a “non-yogi?” We all remember the revelations that occurred on our mats. The answers that were found. The strength that was built. The internal awakening that we crave to keep our wheels turning. However, weren’t there little pieces of yoga that you knew very well before that manduka emblem became your home plate? I used to yearn for the ocean so badly that I thought I might suffocate if I didn’t sit on my beach towel next to my clean slate at least once per year. And when I made it there I would always bolt down into that water so fast you would think I was on fire. I was finding yoga there. The ocean was a place to me that nothing else mattered and I could be fully present and joyful.

It happened in winter too. Once I turned to my gorgeous yogi friend, Ang, on a chair lift and noticed that we were breathing together and smiling together and I said, “Ang! We’re doing yoga right now.” She totally got it which is remarkable because the other daredevils were moving too quickly to understand that day.

I won’t deny that there is a power in savasana when you are blissing out next to someone you are starting to adore (or maybe you already dove in full force) and you can feel their hand inching towards yours. Or seeing your boyfriend of 5+ years trying something new to support you when you were fully convinced he was good at everything. Or seeing my favorite little boy smile creep across Corey’s face during Angie’s most kick ass sculpt class. It’s an amazing thing to share and if you have it, go to the moon together yogi lovers.

If you don’t have it…then respect where your crush, significant other or life partner finds their yoga. When I looked back at Dain on the top of Vail mountain and screamed out of complete “right now” excitement and all he said was, “I know!” We were doing yoga. My little, wise girl Anna says that she loves the fact that yoga is hers alone. Put Alex behind the wheel of a fast car and he’s doing yoga. It’s climbing rocks, it’s my brother scoring in a hockey game, it’s riding a wave, it’s hiking our mountains, it’s going fast, it’s what we strive to do every time we come to our mats…live.

Another false summit and that's perfect.

I have been thanked by powerful, gorgeous women that somehow resonate with my words on this blog. Some of these women have seen me so incredibly stripped down that I couldn’t even move from the foot of someone’s hospital bed. Or I sat in their living room reading aloud a break up letter and clinging to words that no longer belonged to me. Or I put on a power house face all day long and ran out of a yoga class to hug my best friend and she just knows.

All of my moments of desperation have an anxiety ridden thread in common and that is that I lost sight of my freedom. I promised myself before I even hit adolescence that I would never, ever hold on to someone so tight that their wings stopped functioning properly. So why, when I was 17 did I fear losing him to a higher power for years and years after. And why, when I was 21, did I squeeze his hand tight all the way to the Southernmost point until I was convinced that we could just marinate in the sand until we could both say forever. And why, when I’m 26, and I still learning to let go and give in at the same time.

Ahhhh it’s because we must continue to learn. When I nearly lost my first passionate, compulsive, musically inclined blue eyed boy in a crash, Mom said, “Chelsea, you can give him everything right now, but he does not owe you.” There is not a single person that we choose to love that owes us. When we learn to embrace the distance, when we learn to say run along my dear because you have amazing things to get done, when we come together and laugh over stories of our independent feats and realize there is no one else we would rather tell these stories too…that is when we really have it right.

Jealousy is the most ghastly feeling in the world and I haven’t felt it powerfully in years. Not because I stopped comparing or learned to trust completely…because I believe in my path and I believe in take it or leave it. I think 26 is a breaking point. I think 26 is about telling the truth and owning that truth and holding hands with someone that thinks that truth, although sometimes messy, is something that they’d be open to working with. It’s not about protecting your heart anymore…it’s about waiting for the right time to jump.

As Amy H would say, “crying is strength…until it’s not.” I’ll jump for that.