Shine a light

Last week, I met a couple of friends at the park, them with their little kids. 

Being of the age where lots of my friends have children, I am pretty accustomed to hearing from mums, especially new mums and mums of toddlers, about the fatigue and overwhelm that comes from taking on a brand new job - motherhood - (often on top of an existing job), that you have no training for, that you don’t get a break from, and that will effectively hold you emotionally captive for the rest of your days. Or so I’m told.

So when they asked what I’d been up to, and how I was going, I nearly didn’t tell them. Truth was, I had no classes or urgent work scheduled for that day. I had done all the washing the day before. My husband had done a big food shop, we’d had our car fixed the previous day too and the house was clean. Most of those *little jobs* that occupy bandwidth in the brain, were done. 

Why did I hesitate?

First, I felt a little bit inadequate. If my to-do list was up-to-date and I had literally nothing pressing on my case that day I definitely wasn’t busy enough, right? 

We are so culturally conditioned to being exhausted to breaking point that not feeling like that got me feeling - even just for a few minutes - deficient.

It was like the part of my brain where I’d worked so hard to undo those ingrained patterns (and trust me, I have!) faltered.

Second, I felt guilty. How could I tell mums, who were by that stage wiping dog poo off their kids’ hands and chasing dropped snacks and toys, that I was actually doing pretty well in that moment?

But I did. And their response?

Good on you. You’re living within your means. 

That hit me hard. And not because I was offended - rather because it’s true. They didn’t mean it in a financial capacity - although that’s true too. Rather, it was a pretty savvy observation on how I choose to spend my energy and time now.

So how did I get here?

Because I’m finally learning to accept who I am. 

For better or worse, I don’t usually take anyone’s word for it. I need to feel it, touch it, taste it and experience it for myself. I’ve taken the long road, the hard road, and the I-expect-the-world-of-myself road. I’ve undercut and sabotaged myself so I couldn’t give things my all, in quite literally the same breath that I’ve criticised myself for not doing so. Because I was running from who I really was, in an effort to be who I thought I ought to be, and because I didn’t know how to be honest with myself.

That’s part one. Part two? I’m learning to drop my ego. She still shows up pretty often, but she doesn’t get to boss me around (much) anymore. Instead of experiencing big cases of the ‘shoulds’ and learn to live - as my very astute friends pointed out - within not just my means, but my capabilities too. When I was younger, I was plagued by a chronic belief that I wasn’t good enough. At anything. Ever. I sort of hangover of perfectionism, I didn’t want to engage with anything unless I thought I’d be really good at it, and when I did (for example, at work), I still thought I was rubbish. Crazy, right? There were days I thought my head would explode from the anxiety, the nerves, on constantly being on edge, and my coping mechanisms were food, alcohol and exercising too much, even when what I really needed was rest. It was avoidance 101. I was petrified of slowing down, of what I’d find in a quiet space, should I let it enter. 

Slowly but surely, and with a lot of re-writing of my learned patterns and an unblocking of my heart; instead of brimming with expectations and images of how my perfect life would look, I’m down in the metaphorical dirt, just doing what I need to do, and what I can do.

I suppose what I’m saying is this: if you have an inkling that you want to change, even if it seems scary, you have two choices: go for it, or accept there will always be parts of you left unexplored. If you choose the former, know the path will be long, and you’ll never be quite the same again: but therein lies the real beauty. While it might seem like too much at first, the more you turn inward and listen, the better you’ll get at doing it (just like any muscle); and the more in-tune you’ll feel with your heart’s deepest desires. Be prepared to lose too: parts of yourself; the ability to blindly follow others; even family relationships or friends.

Change like this can seem overwhelming.

I’m not condoning throwing in your day job - which none of us is hardly likely to do in the current circumstances anyway, but I would encourage some gentle self-exploration that will help you to ‘tune in’ with the feelings, thoughts and intuition that will guide towards greater fulfilment. We all have that intuition, but most of us learn at a pretty early age to put in a box and throw the key away.

Self-care, wellness, health: they are some of the most polluted Instagram markets. The promise of quick fixes, detoxes, making your life shiny and new: it’s all a massive load of bollocks. We pay lip service to the fact that we know that, but we all think we’re immune and for most of us, social media is the first port of call after opening our eyes in the morning. We’re not unaffected - we are human, with the beautiful fragility that accompanies. So turn off your phone. Tune in to yourself. And don’t believe for a second that you need to alter who you are. Rather, you need to find her: her curiosities, her unique parts, the bits and pieces you’ve counted out as ‘not for this lifetime’ - they are the parts you need to shine a light on. You need that. The tiny revolutions, stacked one against the next. You don’t need to do it all at once; you don’t necessarily need to do it at all. So much of this internal work happens in the wee hours, the 5ams, through tears and sweat and in the doing of the most mundane of tasks too. It happens sitting at red traffic lights and washing the dishes. It happens at yoga and at the beach. You don’t need to wrap it in a bow and offer it up for consumption. Doing it for yourself is enough. Whether you share it all with the world, or just with your world, is up to you.

But you don’t need to do it all at once. Five minutes a day is enough to start your little revolution. In a podcast episode with Dr Tara Swart as guest, she Dr Rangan Chatterjee discuss microhabits as a mode of creating the habitual and sustainable change that can make a huge difference to your motivation, fulfilment, and your happiness too. I love this idea, because it works, it’s accessible, and totally free.

Here are a couple of ‘microhabits’ I use, or have used in the past, to help me when I feel stuck in my head or somehow blocked - they’re also great things to incorporate into your daily routine and they only take five minutes!

• First thing in the morning (or any time during the day), breathe: left hand on your heart, right hand on your belly. Close your eyes and draw the breath in, letting your belly inflate (yes, inflate) as you inhale and fall away from your hand as you exhale.

• Get up and walk. Five minutes is enough. Go outside, look up at the sky or focus on something far away in the distance - it’s been shown to help us relax, and promote creativity and big-picture thinking. Good if you’re on a cororna-rollercoaster of a day, or need to metaphorically get some air.

• Stretch. If you haven’t got a theraband, use a rolled up towel and ‘floss’ your shoulders by taking the band up and over your head, or as far as it reaches. Reach up with one hand over your head and stretch into the side of your body. Let your chest fall down towards your thighs (keep your knees bent!) Move in whatever ways feel safe, good, and comfortable (and if you’re curious about intuitive movement, check out Michaela Boehm)

I know this is a weird time in the world, and I don’t presume to understand anything except (perhaps!) my own experience. If you find any of the ideas here useful, let me know. And if you’re interesting in coming to practice yoga with me, send me a message.

Be brave, close your eyes, look inside yourself and see what you find. Shine a light, but do it for yourself.