ring ring ring

I have put a post-it on my phone. It says "Take a breath. Do you want to take/make this call?" My friend Super H gave me this idea last night after a conversation that involved me in tears, blowing my nose in her ear after I had gone from a place of calm to a place of freak-out-ed-ness (yes, may not be a word, but best describes how I felt) following a conversation on the phone with another person.

I have a problem with the phone. It is my addiction. Not so much the talking/gossiping/fun parts (which I do enjoy) but the "does the person on the other end need me to fix something" part (that part = addiction). I always answer it. Always. (That is very finite, but I do answer it almost all the time.) I/we can be eating dinner, watching a movie, on the way out the door, sleeping, in the middle of another conversation, grieving, getting ready to walk the dog, taking a nap, and on and on. I know the desire is to be wanted/needed by the person on the other end of the phone. What can I do for you? How can I help? Is everything okay? And when they say, "Is this a good time?" Oh sure I say. And sometimes it really is. And sometimes it is okay to pause a movie to talk to a friend. I love my conversations with family and friends - especially because I am on the other side of the country from many of them. But sometimes it is not a good time. I have caller-id and I shouldn't have answered. I am busy. I am having my own moment. I am getting ready to go somewhere. I am spending time with my husband. But my need to take care of others means that I don't take care of myself and my other relationships. Then, when I am needed, I sometimes may not be fully present because I am spread to thin. The reward is helping the other person, but if I am really honest, the reward is knowing that I am needed. Knowing that I am the person who will be called first. The next part is that when I express my needs (which in the moment feels very brave and something I have thought about for a long time - I think I am setting a boundary), they do not realize I am actually coming from a place of having sacrficed my needs to begin with. So possibly my needs come out as sounding like something else. Then they are annoyed, they misunderstand, they are hurt.

Yesterday something happened to cause me to think about this phone thing (again). Making calls and answering calls. Sometimes people we have relationships with trigger us in certain ways - that is what happens whether we want it to or not. And before I talk with those people (because I do still want them in my life), I need to make sure I have my own self-protection in place so that I do not accept their invitations of guilt and other things. Maybe they even feel the same but haven't realized it yet. It really is okay not to answer the phone. To sit in the quiet and not share things with another person unless you feel comfortable with how they might react. To sit in the quiet and just share things with yourself and whatever you feel is greater than you - just to tell your thoughts/feelings/ideas to the universe, the god your heart desires, your self with a capital S (as I think Oprah says). And it is okay if you cannot be the support person for another (or everyone) in every moment of your life. Just because this information age has given us so many ways to get in touch with our friends and loved ones doesn't mean you always have to be available. At the same time, it is also okay to be the person people call for support/advice/shoulder to cry on. Just make sure that you are also meeting your own needs - that you identify these needs daily so you can do a self check-in to make sure you really are meeting them. That is the key. Now if only I could remember that...

Take a breath.

Do you want to make/take this call?

the fine print reads: do you have your own self-care in place if this person wants you to drop everything for them, or if they do not react to your needs in this moment. If the answer is no, save yourself and make another choice. Leave that phone alone.

updated at 5:30pm, 10/10/05
PS - They can also leave a message.

(photo: me with my addiction, 10/10/05, canon digital rebel)

solitude

When I was little I always wanted a little fort, cave, playhouse that would be my very own. A place where I could escape from everyone and live on my own. Though, I knew I would have to go home when I needed more supplies or needed to use the bathroom or needed to take a bath. Still, I had it in my head that I wanted to live in my parents' backyard inside a special tree house or hidden cave all alone. I guess I craved solitude as early as six. I still crave it at times, but recently I have felt like I might have a bit too much of it.
This picture captures a little tiny cave created by the roots of a giant tree in the Grove of the Patriarchs near Mt. Rainier. I can imagine a little girl with a backpack filled with fig newtons, cheerios, and apple juice and carrying her brother's fischer price compass coming across this spot - "perfect! just perfect!" - and settling in for a little while. At least until she ran out of cheerios. Or until she started to feel a little too alone.

(photo: taken by j. Grove of the Patriarchs, 8/20/04)

scenes from the day...

sometimes i actually put my pj's (or in this case the ones i stole from my husband) back on after i shower

my view as i drove my vw bug to yoga

before class begins

taking out the dog; she sniffs the tomatoes still on the vine (in October!)

lunch. i remembered to eat around 2:30 - it is easy to forget this part of the day

checked out the last few flowers in the garden

millie eats her dinner - inhales it really

the day was crazy for both of us; that means thai take-out!

tired, stop working, ready to close down, time for bed...

empty

"Never apologize for showing feeling. When you do so, you apologize for the truth." Benjamin Disraeli

I am feeling judged today. Strong words that bring up stuff. All that stuff. To be thankful for the opportunity to look at it - not so much today. I am tired. The rain falls outside. Gray, northwest autumn weather. I miss my grandmother. I want to call her. I feel empty.

When we let someone know how we feel about something, even when we are not asked, do we always need to reflect on the possibility that they may feel hurt? I think so, but I know I don't always do this. (And I see myself so concerned about placing blame on another outside myself. I have to own this observation first because I don't want to say "people do this to me all the time and it sucks.") When I have a relationship with someone, at whatever level that relationship is, I want that person to be who they are - real, honest, open - that is what this journey seems to be about. The moments of truth you have with another person. Can we have interchanges filled with truth?

Do we only know the surface of another person? Do we get past that surface? Do we let other people see inside to all the icky stuff - the guts of who we are? What are we afraid of? What am I afraid of? Only a small handful (child's hand) know who I am. Even they don't completely know me. Are we ready to see the guts of another person? What would happen if we let them in? Can we dive underneath that surface? Let someone do the same with us? Quiet the mind enough to feel safe with another person, allow uncensored thoughts to be shared. We can try. Not today. Time for a nap I think.

patience hides

I have been doing some reading in preparation for writing the content of my new website (for my yoga teaching business). I am always intrigued by the way the universe hands you exactly what you need, though you have to be open and quiet to notice sometimes. Some of this reading has been about having patience for yourself and others and having the courage to ask for what you need - letting this be part of your yoga practice off the mat. And in my life in the last day, I have had some moments where patience seems to have hidden under the bed just out of reach. And in losing this patience, I have lost empathy for another and courage to say what I need in the midst of a challenging moment. My mind becomes too cluttered with "the stuff" that comes up in a moment of anger or disappointment. Yet, these moments pass. Thank goodness. And the universe handed me a call from my dear friend who listened so I could let some of the stuff go. Then once again, I can recognize the love that sits in the room in the midst of the challenging moments.

(photo: beach in Pt. Townsend, WA, 2/5/05, canon rebel)

the mind ebbs and flows

This morning I taught a free yoga class (at union yoga center, the studio where I teach some classes). Such a great way to start the weekend. Inviting the students to breathe and let go of the mind.

How do we let go of the mind though? Even in our calmest moments this is not easy. A very foreign concept to our bodies and minds. To dwell in the body, in the breath, without grabbing onto any and all thoughts. I struggle with this all the time. However, I notice that when I allow myself the space to try to let go, even if only for a few seconds, life seems...well...it is as though I am actually in my body living my life as opposed to being in my head and letting life happen. By letting go of the control, I feel more in control. Letting go of self-judgement; quieting the inner critic.

I recently picked up a copy of ascent (a yoga magazine published in canada). Inside there is a wonderful cartoon that illustrates scenes from the Bhagavad Gita - focusing on the yoga of action and the path of knowledge (illustrations by R. Sikoryak). Inviting us to find humor in between the lines of our quest for detachment and freedom. Find a copy and check it out!

the farmers' market

Today, a trip to Olympia's Farmers' Market. Picture: A man with long blond hair plays the guitar, singing, as a man and his young daughter look on - she dances and giggles. The rain has stopped for a few minutes as people sit eating clam chowder, crab cakes, chicken on skewers. Apples, apples, and more apples. The last of the peaches and summer squash. Beautiful tomatoes, lettuce, carrots. A young woman sells gorgeous vases, frames, lamps that are made of clay (and I stop every time wanting to buy something but not yet ready to decide on a piece). A man who strains to hear any questions asked of him sells ostrich meat and hollow ostrich eggs. A booth with tie-dyed shirts for all, including baby pj's and bandanas for your dog. Dahlias and sunflowers everywhere. A grandmother sells wondrous jam (and yes, I tried some and then yes, I bought some). Handmade cards, copper bowls, soaps. The market vibrates with the exchange of ideas, laughter, goods.

I love the days when I just get in the car and go exploring. Working from home sometimes invites feeling of walls closing in and lonliness. So good to get out and breathe in the fresh pacific northwest air, duck in and out of the rain, and talk to people.

(photo: apples for sale, olympia farmers market, 9/30/05, canon digital rebel)

The Mountain


I live near this mountain! Every time I see it, I have the same reaction: I want to hug it. I took this picture in Mt. Rainier National Park, August of 2004. The Mountain is hiding today - some fall rain has arrived. We have been blessed with many sunny days in September, so today I find the rain soothing. The task at hand is to keep the image of the mountain inside when these gray days float in and stay for awhile.

I discovered an interesting website today: http://www.dailyom.com