change, learning, nature

Step 78: Lessons from Winter

I’m ready to say good-bye to Winter. I’m not someone who dreads the cold – I actually enjoy it. I like sweaters and boots and jeans. I like the snow and the look of the Winter sky. I like cocooning. Johanna, one of yoga teachers, was quick to remind us that without Winter, there can be no spring; without death there is no rebirth.

So while it was my first inclination to kick Winter to the curb, I realized that wasn’t a good idea. Winter deserves a proper good-bye. Maybe even a thanks. I learned a lot this winter. Tough lessons, yes, but ones that were so necessary. Lessons that I would live a lesser life without.

Lessons from Winter:
1.) We all have limits. Acknowledging them gives us the opportunity to challenge ourselves and improve our decision-making, thereby increasing our levels of happiness in the long-run.
2.) There’s no glory in having every minute of free time packed to the gills; spontaneity brings great joy.
3.) It’s okay to sit with loss; it’s okay to feel a little empty; it’s okay to have room in our lives because room offers the chance for new beginnings.
4.) “I don’t know” is not a declaration of weakness; it’s the very beginning of something that will come to be.

So long winter, and thank you for teaching me in spite of the difficulty of the task. Because of you, my Spring and Summer is now set to be far happier than they would have been without you. I’ll see you in December, when I’m sure you’ll arrive with even more lessons that I will undoubtedly need. Next time, I’ll be a more willing student.

The image above is not my own. It can be found here.

personality

Step 77: The Process of Personality

I’m a little off today. Maybe it’s because I’m 34 now. Maybe it’s all of the awakening that’s happening in my yoga practice that’s making me a little loopy. Could be day light savings time is causing me some adjustments. Or the new job. Or the fact that I have a really bad sore throat for no reason at all because the rest of me feels just fine. Despite the day off yesterday, I’m exhausted today. Exhausted as in I’m finishing this post and falling into my bed, literally.

I’ve also been having this weird little sense of wanting to curl up and cocoon, which is completely out of sync with what’s happening in the rest of the world. Spring is springing, and I feel like I should be springing, except for this tiny little fact that I’m craving the sensation of being low, near to the Earth, and grounded. How is it that yesterday I felt so in tune with the world and today I don’t feel in tune with anyone or anything? What’s going on?

On the subway this morning, I began reading the Bhagavad Gita, a sacred Hindu scripture that nearly all yogis refer to in their practice in some way. In the introduction, the translator wrote the line “personality is a process.” He goes on to talk about conflicting emotions and the general conundrums of living an existence on this Earth, even though we are heavenly beings. He talks about the push-pull of living, and it appears, at least at the beginning of this reading, that the only way around this is through. We must persevere.

So that’s what I’ll do. I’ll just keep going, even though I’m confused and unsure. Many times I think that perseverance may be the one thing I know how to do well. If I trust the process, then I trust that the answers will come.

experience, happiness

Step 76: Other Ways of Watching

“The eyes are no good for watching. They stray too much.” ~ Madame Armfeldt in A Little Night Music as played by Angela Lansbury

During A Little Night Music, Madame Armfeldt is talking to her granddaughter, Fredricka, who is trying to see the night smiling at her. Madame Armfeldt explains the failings of the eyes to actually watch because they get too distracted. The world is full of things that are bright and shiny that take our attention elsewhere. If we want to see, really see, things of true value we must go beyond their appearance to get at their essence. What raises our long-term happiness level, and the happiness level of those around us? Those are the things of true value.

My yoga teacher, Johanna, has been trying to get us to see that nothing we are looking for is outside. It’s all “in here”. The way is in the heart and the soul. Think what you want about this groovy sentiment, I’m beginning to believe that Jo is on to something. As I strolled through the park today on my birthday morning walk, I focused on how the things I was seeing and hearing and experiencing were in communion with my internal feelings of well-being and happiness. I ceased to see myself as separate from my surroundings, and saw myself as just a component of them. In this new state, I could see, not with my eyes but with my heart, that the world is always smiling at me.

So on the occasion of my 34th birthday, I do have a wish to make as I blow out the candles on my delicious cupcake (after all, what’s a birthday without cupcakes?) – I wish to begin seeing, watching, in new ways. I want to learn how to be in the world with consciousness in a way that does not weigh me down, but rather in a way that makes me lighter. I wish for a continued growth of gratitude and gladness, and the opportunity to bring that sense of gladness to others. I wish to be present in every moment, watching and communicating with the heart.

The image above is not my own. It can be found here.

art, theatre

Step 75: Laughing into the Future

“I frequently laugh while contemplating my future.” ~ A Little Night Music

My friend, Rob, took me to see A Little Night Music to get my birthday kicked off in style. We couldn’t pass up the chance to see Angela Lansbury, who is stunning in the role. Rob knows the show well, but I’d never seen it before even though I know a good deal of the music. Send in the Clowns, one of the most prominent musical numbers, is among my favorites.

One of the things I loved most about the show was its poignant one-liners, sentiments that pop off the stage without being too sappy or preachy. Like the one quoted above, they are simple expressions of the human condition. My sister, Weez, will tell you that I am laughing all the time, even in my sleep. My niece, Lorelei, laughs in her sleep, too. We think our future, heck our past and present too, is funny.

I go about making my plans, and then wake up every morning wondering what happened. How did I get HERE? I’m equally amazed by the challenges I’ve been dealt, and the many good fortunes, too. I work hard, though I never really planned much of this life o’ mine. And ever year when my birthday comes around, I’m surprised at where I’ve landed because I never saw any of it coming my way. There’s no need to push, pull, tug, or hurry along life – it really happens on its own.

So on the eve of my 34th birthday, I’m smiling, laughing even, because I just don’t know where my future is headed and for the first time in my life I feel okay about it. It’s okay to be empty. It’s okay to have someone ask me, “so what’s next” and to hear myself respond, “I don’t know.”

My friend, Trevin, called me today to wish me a happy birthday in advance. I actually got a little choked up while listening to his voice mail. “You’re do amazing things with your life just by being you, Christa,” he said. That made me laugh out loud, too. In a way he was telling me to just relax, enjoy my life, and sure, laugh into the future. After all, what’s the alternative?

adventure, discovery, dreams

Step 74: Canyons Opening

Since hearing about Columbia last week, I have been getting so many supportive emails, phones calls, texts, and comments. They mean the world to me and reaffirm my initial feeling that my path lay in another direction. My friend, Blair, wrote me a particularly beautiful note that I am going to take out every time I feel sad. Her message was, “I hope this clears out the year for you and opens gates and canyons, mountains and oceans to explore as you enter a new year.” My friend, Laura, sent me a similar message about 30 seconds after my blog post went up. My mom and sister followed quickly thereafter. Several people posted incredible comments to this blog that made me smile wide. You see why I adore them?

I can already tell that the canyons are opening, that the path is clearing. I felt it all weekend in yoga training. I’m even experiencing it as I’m sleeping. It’s as if I was released to dream a little differently, more freely, than I was dreaming before. It was like breaking through a cloud cover to find that sunnier skies laid in wait for me to arrive. My friend, Lon, didn’t offer me any advice or guidance. He just said “I can’t wait to hear what’s next.” That one simple statement made my answer, “I don’t know”, a reason to rejoice, rather than a reason to be afraid or sad or disappointed. He isn’t trying to tell me what I should do next; he’s just saying that no matter what’s next, his support will be there. And now you see why I adore him, too.

The thought that keeps crossing my mind is that the canyons are always open, the gates of the life we imagine are always swinging wide, welcoming us in. What makes the difference is whether or not we choose to see them, whether or not we have the courage to walk through. Life doesn’t go according to plan most of the time; sometimes the life we get is very different from the one we bargained for. And we have to remain flexible and open to possibilities, even if those possibilities were things we never imagined would happen.

When I got home last night, I read my horoscope from my local paper, and it seems that even the stars are echoing the exact words of encouragement that I’m getting from my beautiful friends, family, and blogging pals. “Trust that you feel a certain energetic relief, relaxation, and the growing sense not that you have enough, but that you are enough…it is fair to say that everything is about to change – in ways you would have wished for, if you could have ever predicted what was possible.” Now that’s a reason to jump out of bed in the morning. Open canyons, here I come! 1, 2, 3, leap!

The image above is not my own. It can be found here.

fiction, story

Step 73: Our Own Fictions

“There are no fictions more fascinating than the ones we tell ourselves to get from day-to-day.” ~ Me

These are some of my fictions that were shattered this weekend during yoga teacher training:
I’ve never had a pranayama (yogic breathing) practice. I learned the anatomy of it; I read about the power of it in countless yoga journal articles; I even tried pranayama once and told myself it felt like nothing so I didn’t try it again. “Who needs to practice breathing?” I laughed to myself. And then today I experienced my nervous system shifting because my breath shifted.

I have weak arms and have told myself for years that I will never be able to practice arm balance poses or hand stands. And then today, I flew into handstand, assisted, but flying none the less.

I’ve never had a meditation practice. I’ve tried meditation a few times in my life and it’s never really worked for me. I just couldn’t get my mind to settle and to compensate for that failure, I told myself meditation was overrated. And then the quote above, and many more like it, have started to appear in my dreams now that I have to develop a meditation practice as part of my yoga teacher training.

It is incredible what stories we will tell ourselves to compensate for our own difficulties, stories that make it possible for us to avoid truth for a long time, sometimes for a lifetime. So next time I hear myself telling tales about my abilities, or rather my inadequacies, I am going to question them. Why is it that I can’t sit still? Why is it that practicing breathing sounds silly? Why do I think I have weak arms? All these fictions were in my mind, they were a matter of perspective that I created and then manifested in the world.

Sad, right? Not at all. The brilliant thing about fictions we tell ourselves is that we can change them, and change them quickly. We can make new ones, ones of strength and abundance and grace. We are enough, just as we are, in every way. We are all that is and all that is is us. And that’s no fiction at all – it’s just a simple, powerful truth.

The image above is not my own. It can be found here.

decision-making, determination, yoga

Step 72: Attitude

“It is our attitude at the beginning of a difficult task which, more than anything else, will affect its successful outcome.” ~ William James, American philosopher

Today began my second weekend of yoga teacher training. Two weeks ago, I left the first day of my training with my head swimming, my emotions racing, and a lot of self-doubt living inside my body. All I could do was go home, go to bed, and promise myself that no matter what, I would get up the next day, go back to that studio, and give my best. I’ve got attitude in spades.

And my attitude on the yoga the mat is beginning to infiltrate other areas of my life in powerful ways. Last night when I found out I didn’t get into Columbia’s PhD program, I couldn’t even be upset. Nor was I disappointed. My first reaction was “well I guess my path leads a different way.” Last week I had lunch with my boss and we talked about our shared belief that we could learn just about anything we ever needed to learn. It might be difficult and it may take us some time, but if we really put our minds to anything, we could reason through it. Attitude at the beginning of a task or how we accept news we didn’t anticipate, makes all the difference in how we pull through.

Somehow, without even knowing it, I took all the yoga I’ve been practicing out in the world for so many years and embodied it to apply to issues in life that have nothing to do with yoga. My practice changed me. It gave me a better attitude. It helps me to let go and trust. Or at the very least, it helps me to keep trying.

anthropology, career, education

Step 71: Columbia Regrets to Inform You…

Several month ago I applied to a PhD program at Columbia’s Teachers College. I had found what I thought was a perfect program, Anthropology and Education, at just the right time. I carefully crafted my application, got my recommendation letters together, and took my GRE. Despite the rejection notice today, I know I put forward the strongest application I possibly could. And it’s okay that I didn’t get accepted – I guess that program is just not meant to be a part of my path right now.

I am very proud of the admissions essay I wrote and so I decided to share it below. The fact that Columbia will not immediately be a part of the journey that this essay lays out is not a terrible thing. I’ll find another way now to keep making progress toward bringing this dream to life — not only because I want to see it become a reality but more importantly because so many people in this country, in this world, need this solution:

“How did you learn to make stuff?” whispered Superior, one of my 7th grade Junior Achievement students at M.S. 223 in the South Bronx, when I described my career as a product developer.

“I made something once and it didn’t work so well so I just kept changing it until it did work well. A lot of trial and error and trial again,” I replied. “This process is called prototyping.”

He looked at me with a very serious expression. “I want to learn to make stuff, too.”

“And what kind of company do you want to work for?” I asked.

“My own. I don’t want to work for anyone else, ever,” he said.

Inspired by this conversation with Superior last year, I began to seriously consider a professional career in education. I was stunned by his interest in entrepreneurship at such a young age. I asked each student in the class what career they would like to have. 8 out of 10 wanted to have their own businesses where they made their own original products. These students were budding entrepreneurs, and I want to help them open their own businesses by providing them with a curriculum that teaches them the skills that will make them successful in their pursuits.

Our most successful lesson to date at M.S. 223 involved improvised skits to demonstrate the importance of insurance during emergency situations. The children came alive when asked to perform. I understood this feeling well because I made my career in professional theatre for 6 years. Additionally, the students quickly learned the complicated vocabulary and intrinsic value of insurance through their performances. The students were gifted storytellers. They showed me how all of my professional experiences could be brought to bear in a classroom setting. I found my home in the field of education at M.S. 223 thanks to those students.

As I headed for the subway that day last year, I felt a mix of emotions. I was tired from a long day and appreciative of what it takes to be a teacher in New York City public schools. I was happy to lend my time to a group of children who were eager to learn and in need of adult role models. I was frustrated with the holes in their curriculum and sad because I knew the dire living situations of these children.

Mostly, I felt responsible. I grew up below the poverty line so I understand the personal circumstances these children face every day. The odds of success are stacked against them just as they were stacked against me. Even though I grew up in a difficult socioeconomic situation, public education helped me to change my circumstances. I have a fervent desire to help other students the way that my family, teachers, and guidance counselors helped me to break the cycle of poverty by encouraging my natural creativity and love for learning. These children at M.S. 223, and the many other children around the world just like them, can better their own lives through hard work and commitment – I know that first hand. They can choose their better history so long as we build public education systems that provide opportunities for broad-based learning and success.

Design thinking, the discipline of using the creative problem-solving skills of a designer, is an ideal tool to re-imagine public education systems. While I have used design thinking as a product developer for almost a decade in a number of different industries, only recently have I begun to consider its application in social enterprise.

The development of education systems that tap into design is critical to our future. In corporations I meet many employees who feel downtrodden and powerless, unable to tap their personal creativity that can develop break-through innovation. They literally have to have their creativity and confidence rebuilt from the ground up because their education system and the companies where they work told them that people like accountants, computer programmers, and sales people are not the creative ones in an organization. Corporations cannot afford this kind of mindset in our new economy; to survive they need the creative engines of every employee.

Superior has more confidence in his creative abilities than most professional business people I know. We need education systems that reinforce creative confidence, not tear it down. It would be more effective to build a public education system that fosters creativity all the way through rather than trying to teach adult professionals how to be as creative as children. It is to this end that I plan to dedicate my career going forward.

Building public education systems based on design thinking will be my contribution to humanity. A doctoral degree from Columbia’s Teachers College in Anthropology and Education will be an asset for me as I pursue this dream. This program is the only doctoral program I am applying to because of its unique emphasis on a deep, disciplined understanding of culture as a critical component to building effective education systems. I am particularly enthusiastic about this program because it recognizes that educational environments can be found throughout a community and because of its history as a pioneer, a history that perfectly suits my plans to innovate in the field of education.

By conducting on-the-ground research and development in design thinking applied to public education, I can help many children across the globe to live happier, more productive lives. The concerns that our world faces are serious and many, and they demand that we muster every bit of our collective creativity to find solutions that bring about real, long-lasting change. When I consider how I can best lever up my abilities to do the most good in the world, my thoughts always return to the field of education because it is the lynchpin that makes transformative change possible. Education is our greatest hope for a better world and a brighter future.”

books, health, healthcare

Step 70: Mountains Beyond Mountains

“It is so easy, at least for me, to mistake a person’s material resources for his interior ones.” ~ Tracy Kidder, Mountains Beyond Mountains

Today I finished Tracy Kidder’s excellent book about Paul Farmer and his nonprofit, Partners in Health, a global nonprofit organization, started in Haiti, that has changed the perception of basic health care from a privilege to a social justice. Being able to have the tools to heal is a birth right, not something reserved for the wealthy and powerful. Paul Farmer has given his life for this simply articulated belief: every life matters equally.

Biography and autobiography is a fascinating thing. While we hear about someone else’s journey, we cannot help but examine our own. By viewing someone else’s place in the world, their contributions to humanity, we begin to consider and re-consider our place, our contribution.

As I left yoga class today, my head was swimming. I’ve got too much information coming at me a million miles an hour: at work, in yoga class, in my volunteer hours, from my friends and family. I’m trying to date as much as I can, and then also leave some time each day for myself. For my own thoughts and reflections. My life is bursting with, well, life.

And then I finished Mountains Beyond Mountains, and I let out a huge sigh of relief. I’m trying to just manage my own little corner of the world. Paul Farmer is out there actually saving many corners of the Earth – the most desperate, the poorest, the ones that need immediate attention before they decay entirely beyond any recognition. He is Atlas, and he will not shrug.

So give me yoga asanas, Sanskrit, sacred hindu texts, new technology, org chart after org chart, change and then more change, and any and every trouble and triumph of my many beautiful friends and family members. I can take it all in, and still feel whole and complete, still take care of my own heart and body and soul. I’ve got this.

If Paul Farmer can wrap his mind around treating TB, HIV / AIDS, and everything that comes along with that, in Haiti, Peru, Russia, Guatemala, Roxbury, and Lesotho to name just a few of the regions of the world his worked has touched, then surely I can do my fair share. After all, we are all just people, fallible, imperfect, stunning examples of grace. There is always more to do, always. And that is a beautiful realization. The Haitians say it best, “There are always mountains beyond mountains.” Let us hope that our work is never really done, and let’s celebrate that.

The image above is Paul Farmer with a young boy in Haiti at his clinic. It was taken by Maupali Das.

relationships, swim

Step 69: Waves of Our Lives

“When we realize we are the Ocean, we are no longer afraid of the Waves.” ~ Unknown

I learned to swim when I was 30. I could doggy paddle and float on my back just fine as a kid, though no one else in my family swims so I never learned. Finally, I realized I really wanted to learn to scuba dive so I signed myself up for adult swimming lessons at UVA, where I was in graduate school at the time. I did well in that set of lessons, though I must confess that I am still nervous in the water. Despite that I am a Pisces, water is an uncomfortable medium for me.

I saw the quote above on my yoga teacher, Lauren’s, email signature yesterday. Perhaps this realization is what I’ve been missing. I see myself as separate from the water, despite the fact that our bodies are comprised mostly of water. I have been thinking of water as something I need to fight through, not something I need to be in communion with.

And isn’t that the way of our existence in the world, too. In our jobs, our relationships, our hardships, even in our most triumphant moments. Much of our human experience is a battle. We fight over, under, around, and through. But what if we could recognize that we are actually part of the great flow of energy? Could we utilize the energy around us not as something to cut through, but rather as something that is a part of us? That is us. We could take all of the effort we spend to fight our way through and put it toward lifting ourselves up while taking others with us.