This is my new favourite word.
Yoga balance. That’s fun. Here’s Jessamyn (my new favourite person), a plus sized yoga teacher who tells it like it is with regards to balance. “You know, my yoga asana practice isn’t pretty. It’s f*** gruesome most of the time. It’s a lot of sweating, crying, swearing, falling down, & picking myself back up again. For most of us, the gruesome reality of an asana practice is shocking- I mean, it’s all fun and games when you’re looking at instagram photos, but real life is on some different s***. BUT THAT’S THE POINT. This practice isn’t supposed to be easy or pretty. And it’s not about the f**** poses. Flexibility and strength are cool & all, but don’t get it twisted- that’s not why we show up on the mat. There is a spirit inside each of us, and it needs to be nurtured and cleansed.”
That’s powerful. If for no other reason that she penned those wise words I would adore her.
Yoga30 Day4 and yoga is already a natural part of my life. I think I always knew it would be since I first taught myself how to do some poses when I was in university (the first time around). These were the days before Youtube and Instagram… I had a BOOK of all things. Power Yoga by Beryl Bender Birch.
Then there is the life/study balance. Learning takes a lot of concentration and effort. Raising kids takes a lot of concentration and effort. Giving way to some for the other and vice versa. It’s not pretty. It’s ugly. I fall down a lot. I cry. Then I hug Fez and get on with making decisions. Good bad… better. Healthy meals for instance.
Space. Balancing my need for it and my lack of it. I grew up with space- fellow Americans take a moment to be supremely grateful for the wide open spaces and larger homes (even smaller homes are larger than British ones). My 1950’s Scottish house is lacking in space. I mean you can buy more space (aka bigger houses)… but as we live in the Edinburgh post code this space comes at an unaffordable premium. I step on children. Children step on me. A small amount of clutter becomes a pure horde- an army of crap that I am constantly in battle with. It’s emotionally draining and one of the big reasons I’m turning my attentions inward to minimalism.
I hope when my kids grow up they will fondly remember our tiny table and the hundreds of family meals we suffered through around it.
Now on to the hardest balancing acts. The one in the constant state of adjustment. Tinkering. Changing. Adding less here. Doing more there… stopping.
Time. It only goes one way. It’s parameters cannot be adjusted.
Do I? Nurture self? Nurture children? Nurture relationships. Focus on home? Focus on learning? Focus outward? Work harder? Smarter? Give to financial management… spending less, saving more? DIY? Delegate? Create space? Take away? Allow to remain? Take stock? Cut back? Deal with chaos and try to manage? Feed the body? Bodie? Feed the soul? Souls? Be present? Drift… Put out fires? Put out fires? Put out fires… PUT OUT FIRES?!?!?!
Set fires. Watch them burn.
The need for balance is evident in my world.
It is no wonder up until a month ago I was drinking a bottle of wine (and sometimes more) a week. I miss the ease of it. Slipping away into that gentle space. That big armchair. That cozy blanket. That quiet mind. Not facing the realities of all the hard stress in my world. It was easier but not better. I acknowledge that. I have given up all of my crutches.. all my vices and I am discovering in the middle that I am lying flat. 2017 is the year I try to at least sit up.
Sit to crawl to walk to run (and awesome Instagram worthy yoga poses) Each one of these stages requires balance.
That is where I begin.