Too Many Pumpkins

When I was in elementary school, probably in the second grade, my class took a trip to the pumpkin patch. We loaded onto the big yellow school bus with the words "Timber School District" on the side in big black letters and slid our young bodies onto the smooth vinyl seats. I, like many of my classmates, was excited to be heading to the pumpkin patch as I had a fistful of money crammed into my "tough skin" jeans. It felt as though I had been given more than the usual field trip amount of spending money and I was ready to spend it.

I couldn't take my time to check out the many rows of pumpkins. It's not something that you can do at a leisurely pace as all the other kids are doing the same thing and they might find that perfect pumpkin before you...so, I had a sense of urgency to find the perfect orange orb.

It must have been my day as I came across not one, but two beauties. Plus, I had the cash to buy both and didn't have to undergo the agonizing process of picking just one.

We loaded ourselves and our pumpkins back onto the bus and headed home. I felt so excited as to what faces I could carve and sat dreamily bouncing along on our journey back to the school yard.

It was after regular school hours when we returned and soon I found myself feeling like I was the only one left in the parking lot. I didn't have anyone meeting me as I always walked to and from school. With great desire and determination, I picked up both pumpkins, one slung in each hand and began to walk home. It was at the end of the parking lot that I realized my desire had overcome my common sense. I wanted TWO pumpkins and my arms only could carry one.

Upon realizing this, I sat on the corner and began to cry. I had two glorious pumpkins that I had chosen out of thousands and now I had the dilemma of carting them six blocks home. What would I do? Roll them down the hill? Carry one, kick the other? Leave one behind (unthinkable!). With great determination and intermittent whimpering, I hauled the giant veggies home. It took me longer than I can remember having to stop frequently along the way. But I did it despite that hugely uncomfortable feeling of holding WAY more than you can carry.

My thought for the week is...are you still carrying around too many pumpkins? Is there something that you can let go of? Is it possible to ask ourselves before we commit...do I need all of this, or can I be more selective? Is my pattern set at always choosing to do (or strive, or eat, or sleep, or exercise, or complain, or...) too much?

Lighten the load. It's freeing.

Is Self-Help Selfish?

You flip open your to-do list for the day either the old-fashioned way of an actual handwritten appointment book or via or mobile device. You have many things that need your energy and attention. Now, check to see if there is anything that is simply centered on you...not work, kids, family, charity, errands...just something for you. Is it there?

This week's thought was prompted when I was working with a client one-on-one and they said to me, "but spending time working on me is being selfish...isn't it?".

We all have threads that connect us to other people, obligations and responsibilities. Sometimes they take the form of our spouse, our kids, our job, our pets, our community, our house, our car, our environment...well...you get the idea. How do you begin each day? Do you awaken thinking about all of those threads of attachment, looking after "stuff" to find that by days end, the thread that attaches you to you, well, has been completed ignored?

Countless times clients share with me how they look after everyone else. Our culture admires people who are capable, responsible and busy. "She does so much. She helps so many. She has so much energy to give"...really...? If that's true, where does this seemingly endless pool of available energy come from?
And how long have they been accessing it? I would take a guess that if someone has boundless energy they are doing one of two things. Either taking time for their own needs, or two...on a collusion course with burn-out, resentment and fatigue.

With this cultural bias towards busyness, it can seem selfish to spend time on ourselves. If I'm spending time looking after me, then who's looking after everyone else?

Good question.

I recently heard a story about illumination. That if you place a single candle into a darkened room, you begin to see more clearly. If you add ten candles into the same room, it begins to brighten and the more candles that you light...the brighter the darkness becomes. One single candle can light many others. But if that first candle goes unlit, then the room remains dark.

When we take time to look after our own light, we begin to radiate not only into our own divinity, but it expands beyond us. Our illumination begins to touch others which can ripple outward and away from us generating more goodness than can be imagined. Without taking time to find our own inner light, not only do we remain in the dark, but we are unable to "enlighten" those that we connect with and care about.

It doesn't take much time to be in touch with our own center. Simply closing your eyes, listening to the quiet, finding our breath and hearing our inner voice is a great place to start. So, I say...go ahead, be selfish and make an appointment with yourself. Fan your inner flame and spread the light!

If I Only Knew Then...

It seems to be all over the place that October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. Even NFL pro footballers and associated coaches are sporting splashes of pink that represent breast cancer awareness as are the social networking sites and so many other media outlets. People just seem more comfortable talking about cancer...that big "C" word.

This wasn't the case 28 years ago when my Dad was diagnosed with cancer. It was my first year of college and I was living 10,000 miles away in Australia when I heard him utter the words, "I've got cancer...". I was almost completely incapable of allowing those words to register in my mind. I remember thinking that with those words also came the likely death of my Dad. It's no wonder I didn't want my body to absorb the information. Unfortunately, my Dad died some four months after this initial conversation as his cancer was incurable.

Some 24 years later, I found myself studying Yoga Therapy and one of the topics was how to work with students who had cancer. My instructor was leading us through a class and demonstrating what type of language we might use and what type of postures might be beneficial. It was during the physical practice of this class that I began reflecting back into my Dad's experience and realizing how inadequately equipped I was to help him along this rocky and final part of his journey. As the practice continued, I found my inner voice saying, "I wish I knew then, what I know now. I might have been able to be with Dad in a completely different way". And then I started to sob from grief that had been stuffed down deeply into my cells and released some long held stagnation of emotion. It was quite a cleansing and "enlightening" experience.

What I have learned since is that I have become more capable at being with challenges, whether they be my own or those of others. That particular life lesson seemed at first to be cruel yet so incredibly powerful.

This week's column is dedicated to my dear friend, who underwent a lumpectomy yesterday. The surgeon "got it all" and didn't have to take any lymph nodes. Her prognosis is great and I know she'll make a full recovery as she faces her challenges through a sense of humor, realism and a ton of support from family and friends.

I know that my Dad would have been proud to know that I paid attention and learned yet another lesson from him. I feel as though I am better able to be with my close friends as they face that dreaded "C" word and hope that all of us can see that we learn so much no matter what sits before us.

One Door Closes, Another One Opens

It's now been five months since I had my shoulder surgery and more than six months since I've been on a tennis court. I'm at the stage where people are asking me, "so you're back playing tennis?" to which I reply, "uh, no not yet. It'll be some time before I'm back. I just started physical therapy two weeks ago...".

Then the conversation tends to drift in one of two directions. The first is, "you must really be missing tennis...". The second "did you know beforehand that it was going to take this long?". Quite provocative questions for a competitive athlete. I guess I'm fortunate that I've had extensive time off the court in the past four years due to surgeries...wrist, appendix, shoulder. As I've stepped into my latest physical therapy experience, I find myself energized at the process of bringing freedom back into a stagnant joint. I realize that I've always been excited at the process of having a difficult challenge and finding a way to address it. I do so now from a more gentle place, than from one that has a deadline.

In some ways, it's no different to playing a tennis match. You have to find your way through it...different puzzle pieces, same type of challenge. I know that being off the tennis court has swung the door wide open for me to spend my former "tennis time" discovering other areas of my life. I recognize that there is so much to experience on this journey, that being thrown an unexpected curve ball is well...to be expected. It's a way to welcome the change as an opportunity to refocus my energy into something else.

Since I've been off the court, I've had more energy to spend exploring our natural environment. This past summer we bought passes for the Palm Springs Aerial Tramway to go hiking in our local (and cooler) mountains. I have had space in which to bring backburner ideas into the forefront of my thinking. My business feels as though it's had an infusion of attention leading to an expansive experience at the Australian Sanctuary Yoga Retreat in September and the upcoming Nourishment Program beginning end of October.


And yes, I do miss tennis. As I write this, the Tennis Channel is on in the background. But, I know that "it is what it is" and my shoulder will heal as it is meant to. If I lose patience and attach a timeline to that process, then I might miss the current lesson that I'm experiencing.



As one door closes, another door opens.



Are you ready to step through?

Nourishing Ourselves

Over the past several months, I have been wanting to offer a new course and it has taken some time to take it from the idea stage to reality. In the past, I taught a "Fitness & Fat Loss" course both here in the U.S. and in Australia. As I found my own life evolving through yoga and being in my 40's, my drive to offer such a course had, well...been pushed off-course!

I found that by giving people the "information" of fat, carbohydrates, movement options, calorie expenditure, protein and blah, blah, blah that the usefulness and application was limited. We'd have to have our heads in a cave, be on a mountain (or rainforest) top yoga retreat or be unplugged from all media not to have the awareness around our growing obesity "epidemic" both here and in Australia. So, if we have all the "blah, blah, blah" information and we have groovy gyms with the latest programs, and we have the most effective sweat evaporative cooling garments on the market...why do we have this challenge? Why does it seem to be getting worse, rather than better? Don't we know what to do?

Apparently, knowing is not enough.

It's the doing that makes the difference. Not just knowing what to do, but actually...yes...doing it. And the "it" has gotten quite confusing. How many calories and reps did you say? It seems that the connection to our own needs has lost its importance. Can we hear what our soul is asking for?

Perhaps that's part of the reason The Nourishment Program has taken time to develop. I wanted to explore not only the research on why 85% of all diets fail, but to learn more about intuitive and mindful eating practices. As I dug deeper, I began to see the obvious connection that these practices have to practicing a yogic based lifestyle. Not that you have to be a yogi to participate, but the similarities and overlap have common ground.

As we breathe, we bring life-giving oxygen into our bodies. What we eat and put on our bodies assimilates into our bodies. So if I choose to nourish myself, I need to begin by understanding that it affects all aspects of my being and therefore my life. It's not a simplification of calories in/out or what's "good/bad" for you. It's about honoring that all of us are worthy of self-care and self-love...not in the future, but in the now of the present moment.

The Nourishment Program aims to give the participants tools of how to do this every day. It's another step in deepening and refining our own evolution. All are welcome. Come join us, it begins October 27, 2010.