Stepping Up To The Edge

Every summer as I was growing up, my family would pile into our Ford station wagon, loaded with camping gear and head for some state or national park. As we walked the park trails and stop at the vista points, I would walk right up to the edge and peer over at what lay beyond or below. My Mom's hand was often felt holding onto the waistband of my shorts for fear that I might check out whether or not I could actually fly. These moments exhilarated me and terrified my Mother.



Over the years that same curiousity has brought me to the edge of where things feel safe and then start becoming scary. With the recent release of my CD, I have felt a similar sensation...that feeling of bordering on the fearful edge of the unknown. This place is slightly different to the primal fear of plunging over a cliff, yet it all boils down to the same basic instinct.



The CD experience is a new one for me: taking the seed of an idea, growing it into an actual product with the support of my brother Ken and then releasing it into the public arena. The most terrifying part is that of the release and the feeling of opening myself to not only judgment but failure. It could be a flop. People could think that I have no idea what I'm doing. What was I thinking?



So why do it? Why risk failure?



Why not! It's the experience as a whole, regardless of the outcome that is a fantastic teacher. It has offered an entirely new set of challenges and, hopefully, opportunities. We have a limited amount of time to change not only our own lives, but impact the lives of others. So why wait until it feels safe and holds no fear.



If we relate it to our asana practice in yoga, it's that moment of experiencing our first handstand, headstand or shoulder stand. When the support of the wall is no longer there and we're holding ourselves upside down all by ourselves! It's not as though one day we just decided to turn ourselves head over heals and found complete success and ease. All poses are built on a foundation and a set of progressions. We go through the basics to reach into a deeper place of each pose and one day, we find ourselves upside down.



Fear is what keeps us in check. It's what steps in front us and says, "hang on a minute...are you sure you want to go there?" When we can face the scary moments in our lives such as relocating, quitting our job, releasing a CD or kicking up into a handstand, it's as though we can acknowledge the inherent fear and ask it to simply step aside.



So what fearful voice is sitting in front of you at the moment? Have you laid the foundation to be able to feel the fear and do it anyway? Go on, step up to the edge and challenge yourself!

Play Date

When I was a kid one of the main objectives in each day was to play. The sound of the bell ringing for recess was sweetly received and I'd rush out to the monkey bars and repeatedly flip myself over in circles, find an open swing, enter into a game of hotly contested dodge or kick ball or try to maintain my queen of the hill status as a tether ball maestro. I couldn't get enough of it. I simply loved to play.



When I saw the class schedule during my first year as a physical education major, I was curious as to the subject called PLAY THEORY...really? A class about play? What could that possibly entail? Well, quite a bit. as I came to learn more about the subject, I came to understand the distinctions between play and non-play (often referred to as work). Play is by definition undertaking something simply for the sake of the experience. It's an intrinsically motivated process where the outcome is irrelevant. No prize, no paycheck, no finish line, no personal best. As a result of being motivated intrinsically, we gain a deep satisfaction for engaging in something purely for the "fun of it".



As we transition from being kids into teens and adults, we are discouraged from playful behavior. "Quit fooling around. Focus. What's your goal? What are you going to do when you grow up?" are often phrases that confront us during this transition. If we replied back, "I don't know, I just enjoy learning, or sleeping, or swinging, or hoola hooping" we'd be seen as having no direction, being lazy or apathetic.



Now I'm not suggesting that we don't have goals or ambitions. But why do we need to let go of playing? What sparks your interest, makes you crack up laughing or drives you to dance and whistle? What are you passionate about that doesn't need to have a dollar sign attached to it? And if it does...isn't that a playful bonus?



With Father's Day arriving tomorrow, I am reminded of how playful my Dad was. We used to play catch or volleyball, go hiking or sit around and shoot the breeze. On the way home from church one day, we even had a skipping race down the hill to our house ...can you imagine a grown man skipping as fast as possible down a hill as he raced his daughter? I don't have to imagine it...I remember it as being one of those embedded highlights of his playful nature. With Dad racing down a hill, skipping no less, he was teaching me that it's ok to be playful as an adult.



And as my Mother used to say, "now go outside and play..."



Well then...off you go!

Shifting Gears

Here in the northern hemisphere we are about to experience the summer solstice-the longest day of the year. What this signals in my world is a downward shift from high season to the lower gears of summer. Being desert rats, we get somewhat accustomed to three straight months of triple digits...we're a hearty and heat loving kind of people. As the temperatures rise, the seasonal people begin to flee, leaving us plenty of room on our roads, ease of getting into restaurants and a definite sense of a letting up.



I have been very blessed with what seemed liked my busiest season ever and, quite frankly, I now feel a bit beat up. Parts of my body have been aching, my energy is lower than the amped up speed of the season and I'm just getting over a cold. I find myself thinking, "what gives?". And then I begin to recognize an old pattern, one that I experienced during every semester break and holiday when I was at university. My studies and activities as a physical education major had me pushing myself both academically and physically. Add part time work into that mix and I would find myself getting slammed with some form of cold, flu or infection during every break. I felt as though I couldn't catch a break...time off was spent sniffling, taking decongestants and spending my "free time" feeling lousy.



Since we moved to the desert (a dry climate) and I dove deeper into my yoga practice, I can't remember the last time I got hit by a cold. Until now. I think it's a universal reminder that we need to keep ourselves in balance...the harder we push, the harder we fall (eventually).



I'm not complaining as I feel so fortunate to be doing what I love and to have abundance around it. I'm just aware that thinking I'm super-human is beyond me and I need to heed the warnings of overdoing it. So, my thought for the week is what do we do to keep ourselves in balance?



Sometimes we're going along and don't realize we've been doing too much until we get sick. It's as though our subconscious says "enough already, I'm taking you down because you're choosing not to do it yourself". For me, it means the following:



*Get enough sleep. That translates to at least 8 hours (yes, each night, not accumulated over two or three nights)



*Stick with my daily meditation practice. It sets the framework for each day



*Make healthy eating choices. Translation-plant based, organic and fresh



*Don't push hard when exercising if my inner voice is saying, "whoa Nelly...take it easy today"



*Stay committed to regular movement-yoga, walking, weights etc



*Find fun stuff to do rather than always feeling the need to "work"



*Practice compassion toward myself. I'm doing the best I can.



I'd love to hear from you as to how you keep yourself in balance, or what throws you out of whack. I hope you enjoy a blissfully nourishing week that connects you to body, mind and spirit.

The Symbolism of The Lotus

This past weekend our niece graduated from high school. We took the long drive from the desert to the central coast of California to hear her Salutatorian speech and see her receive her diploma. Not only are we proud of how well she has performed on the academic stage but, even more impressively, how she has grown and evolved into a young adult.



Over the past several summers she would come and spend a week or so with us, without her parents and often accompanied by a sibling. We have seen her transform from a shy young girl into a still reserved, yet more confident, young adult. We have all experienced the turbulent times of adolescence and puberty...braces, pimples, bad hair cuts and the feeling of not belonging. And there is something completely hopeful and refreshing when you see the emergence of a young adult despite all those rocky and potential disruptive pitfalls.



I was amazed to hear the complexity of thought, the full circle and youthful wisdom as my niece bravely took the microphone in front of peers, family, and hundreds of strangers. I caught myself thinking, "Wow...I never knew the depths of her insight as she is so quiet on the surface. When did that happen?".



As a symbol of new beginnings and transitions, we gave her a necklace with a lotus flower etched in silver. I see her wearing it as a totem as she stands in the doorway of her first semester at The University of Notre Dame, to remind her that sometimes what transforms us is often the most terrifying. To step into this new phase knowing that it will hold the potential for incredible learning and opportunity, and yet it might just be like wading through muddy waters to reach a point of clarity.



The lotus is symbolic of this journey as it begins its transformation by taking root in the murky and stirred up waters, only to make its way to the surface finding clarity through persistence to realize its full and magnificent beauty.



As my teacher Judith Lasater says, "May we live like the lotus, at peace in muddied waters". My wish for all of us is that we find our own clarity through turbulent times and emerge in the full expression of who we are.