A New Patience

Hello blog,

It’s been a while. I’d like to get in the habit of writing content on here for a number of reasons. First, we are living in very strange times and it would be nice to have a written reflection somewhere, second because writing has always been a form of deep self-care and catharsis and last, if I write something relatable perhaps it can feel normalizing and helpful to the onlooker. So, here I go!

I wanted to write about the patience I have learned to develop over the last 7 months. It is a different sort of patience than what I thought I was encountering during the first 33 years of my life. It’s like patience on steroids. What would be a better word for amplified patience? Trust in the universe? Grace, perhaps…let’s just call it “a new patience.”

In March, our worlds changed immediately. In my own personal life, as someone whose work was very much in person with other people in close proximity as a yoga teacher and massage therapist, I had to navigate new safety and health concerns and physically distance myself from students, clients and indoor spaces. What would I do?

There was a pulse of trust under my skin that urged me to quickly pivot and put everything I did in an online format, which continues to do well under these circumstances. There have been so many silver linings during this time including my ability to teach people online in different states and countries, but there have also been difficulties. Not being physically in person with my clients and students and not being able to hug people all day long has proven challenging to me as a community seeking empath. Can you relate?

Enter stage right, patience. So, here’s the deal…I always thought I was a patient person, and generally I am. I can listen to people share their stories all day long and hold space for other people’s processes. I encourage others to trust the process and lean into the discomfort of not knowing and to take some deep breaths before reacting…and it is easy to share this advice because I really believe it in.

Then, there’s me. Applying these principles in my own life have proven to be a bit more challenging. It’s kind of like exercising a new muscle or practicing a new art form. I cognitively know these things, but how can I experience the wisdom in my body?

I started seeing clients as a therapist intern this month. Just as soon as I realized the pandemic would be going on for a while, I decided to put my social work hat back on and begin working toward my LCSW licensure. It is something I always knew I would pursue ‘one day.’ Maybe when I was 40, I figured…but there is really no better time than now to pursue mental health care, especially since so many people are in need of support.

In this realm, patience has looked a lot like trust. Trust in myself to take the next best step, trust in myself to be professional and to use good judgment when dealing with people under this new umbrella of care. Trust that my caseload during a global pandemic will grow. The list goes on.

Thus emerges this new patience. This new level of trust.

I am reminded of my friend and former business coach, Roland, who told me once that when you go a restaurant with friends, you order the food and then you return to having a good time with your friends. Hopefully, you are not obsessing over your order and if it will come out exactly to your liking. You just live your life and then the food comes. Right now, I am putting myself out there and then trusting that the food I ordered will come out to my liking and if it doesn’t I can always add salt.

I am practicing pausing and grounding and slowing down. I am expanding my scope to a more longterm stretch. That processes of all sorts take time. Since time is dilated right now and a month feels like a year, I am doing my best to remind myself of that. Brooke, it’s only been X amount of time. You will learn more and improve and make mistakes and build relationships in this new professional sphere.

It takes self-compassion and self knowledge.

So, be kind to yourself. If you’re in the throws of some big changes like I am, lean into the process and trust yourself most importantly.

Decaffeinated

It's March already!  I can't believe it.  Time zooms by so quickly.  Perhaps because it has been so busy in my world since the New Year or more likely because I have been in a flow state these past couple of months.  So alas, here we are. Springtime is upon us.  Flowers are blooming and the sun is out for the first time in a long time.  It feels amazing.  

I feel like there is a lot to catch up on.  I used to blog every single week.  I have felt that while I love the idea of more regular blog posts, once a month is a kinder option for me now as I have been getting busier and busier growing my practice.  So for now, I'm going to try out this once per month format and see how it feels!

In February, I completed a ten day cleanse based on the GAPS diet.  This was no gluten, no dairy, refined sugars, coffee or alcohol.  It was challenging in a way I didn't expect it would be.  For some reason, the first time I did this cleanse back in 2013, I felt elated and witnessed quick changes within myself.  I was used to eating ice cream every single day back then and drinking dark, heavy beer.  While there is nothing inherently wrong with these food choices, they weren't serving my body.  So with the elimination, I experienced a beautifully intense healing period that is still ongoing.

This time around, with a much healthier (for me) diet and lifestyle choices, the shifts were more subtle.  I forgot that the cleanse did not allow coffee and to be honest, it totally rattled me to realize that this was true.  I had just purchased a new coffee maker the night before, thinking that it would be a special treat for me as I worked to eliminate other addictive substances like chocolate.  It was so difficult.  Like a true addict, I was fiending for coffee for the first few days. I cursed Starbucks signs and the smell of coffee that is ever present in Austin.  I mourned.  I cried. I had a headache.  I drank green tea, which is of course, not the same.  I was, however, committed.

So I continued on. I drank more water, napped a lot, took it easy and started to feel my nervous system regulating.  I realized that what was keeping me in a constant fight or flight state was my caffeine dependence.  Nothing was really that urgent, but my body and nervous system felt like there always was.  Anything but RIGHT NOW was not an option.  I was moody and irritable and then I would crash.

There is something really beautiful about the way caffeine serves to light a fire under our asses.  We accomplish a lot in that jittery manic state, but our adrenals may be undernourished.  For me, as a 4-5 cup a day girl, my dependence was pretty profound.  Morning, noon and evening.  It was my security blanket.  A way for me to stay up later and do more.

The truth is, I'm an introvert.  I like quiet time and a lot of decompression time to myself.  I like to socialize but being around big crowded spaces isn't naturally my thing...but I was making it my thing by amping myself up!  

I've switched to decaf now and I still get the same ritualistic aspect of brewing, holding a coffee cup and of course maybe adding a little cinnamon...but it is only for the taste now, not for the side effects.  I require a bit more sleep now and often find myself falling asleep at random times, but I'm looking forward to seeing what is underneath all the jitter.  

I feel like this part of my life involves staying put, slowing down and being still and for once, I am really ok with this reality.

Until next time,

Brooke

Coming Home

I just got home last night from leading yoga at a retreat in Dripping Springs.  I also did a ton of body work while there.  It was the second time I've been involved with this group of people and truly, I love them.  They are easy to hold space for and they've been working on a quality of presence that makes my job so effortless with them.  It really is so amazing and such a blessing that part of my job is to go on retreats!  That teaching yoga and really loving it has opened all these doors for me.  

On the first day, Martha, the woman who drew all these people together did an intuitive reading for each of us.  We all chose angel cards from a deck and I got a card that said "TRUST" on it.  It didn't surprise me one bit as I have been grappling with this for my entire life and has been a source of a lot of anxiety for me.  That I exert my will probably more than I need to and have moments of panic when I consider all the what-ifs.  Martha has been telling me for a couple years now to trust the path that I'm on and I keep listening and it keeps working!  It just keeps working.  So, I'm hoping that I can take this message with me as I re-enter life as I know it.

I was really happy to see my boyfriend.  To go to Target and buy a coffee maker and get food for the cleanse I'm about to start.  I felt a lot of joy in the simple realization that I get to do what I love for a living.  There was a sense within me that everything is just as it should be.  In this moment, I feel more surrendered to life and what's happening and I've un-clenched my fists for now.  It feels nice.

My January body challenge to practice daily yoga was easy for me for the most part and I experienced very little resistance.  At this point, the practice is an extension of me and so it is natural to build it into my schedule.  This month with a cleanse and daily meditation, I imagine that I may come up against more resistance, but I am excited to see what unfolds.  Something about setting out on monthly challenges makes my life feel much more mindful and conscious.  I like the structure of it. 

Finding Warmth Within

Winter has always been challenging for me. I remember this every year-the first day it gets below 40 degrees in Austin. I find it unbelievable that I was able to live in Massachusetts, where my hair would freeze when I stepped outside. My tendency during this season is to turn inward, stay indoors, hibernate-which, I know is highly common. I somehow seem to selectively forget the winter every year and how it makes me feel...until, it's here again.

This month's challenge: Yoga everyday-is a really good antidote for my winter blues, I've realized.  It's only the second day of January-but already, I'm beginning to see yoga studios, classes and communities as a great solution to what could potentially, be a bitter problem. 

Someone said recently that going to a yoga class is the perfect being alone while being together activity.  So for the introspective, especially during winter, among us...a yoga class could be just the thing. We each have our own individual mats, and yet, we are united by a common goal or theme; to connect to our breath and to our bodies. Movement is a such a good and reliable healer.

Each day this week, I have planned out which class I'll be going to and have marked it in my calendar.  If I put something in my phone as an appointment, I will make it happen---just as I would a class that I would be teaching myself. It's a self-care date and it will, I imagine, hold me accountable to my practice, my body and then in turn, my students and the people I am close with. I imagine it will be a journey and I'm looking forward to what unfolds in January.

The word I chose to represent 2018 is EMBODIED.  I desire to live a more body-centered, body-appreciating life and as a result, encourage others to do the same. It is much different to strive for a more embodied life than, it would be to strive for a body that looks different or to have goals that are purely aesthetic (though, there is nothing wrong with that).  To love my body and honor it for all that it can do. There is gratitude in that.

So, I hope you stay warm and are able to breathe and move through those winter blues if you have them.  I'll be on my mat everyday this month!  Join me?

Connect to SELF

This morning, I sat among my meditation Sangha, as we do monthly for our teacher training with Kelly Lindsey.  Perhaps of all the days, for me, today was the edgiest.  We are being asked to step into something that feels actually pretty uncomfortable for me.  The space of the SELF.  Myself.  Ourselves.  Solo, separate, alone, disconnected.  For 3 days.  It's not long, I know.  But, man...is it met by a resistance in me.  

For as long as I can remember, I've been surrounded by people or have been preoccupied by the thought of other.  What do they think of me?  How am I being perceived?  How to act in this group or that---and feeling all the feelings, as an empath...sometimes losing myself in the shuffle or the intensity of it all...only to reconnect later, when the necessity to be alone becomes crucial.  

What I'm getting at here is that I'm being asked to lean into a resistance of mine and I'm going to do it!  Of course I am.  Of course I can.  Of course I will.  And I know with a DEEP knowing that this is going to be great for me.  I'm certain that the patterns and habits that show up in my daily life will be shaken up so I can see beneath the dust of them.  To peer into some TRUTHS and perhaps some things I have been avoiding feeling by keeping constantly busy and surrounded by others.

A quote that stood out with particular importance this morning is one by Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche saying, 'The experience of being on retreat involves a very faint, subtle sense that you are falling in love somewhere, with something.  A subtle romanticism happens through nothing entertaining you and everything coming back to yo.  It's a subtle love affair, but it's definitely a romantic one.  Our first introduction to going into retreat is an introduction to ego's nakedness and the subtle appreciation of aloneness.'

Mmm...yes.  I know what he means.  I can sense it.  I have tasted it.  Some of my greatest ideas have come about when I have given myself the space to feel them.  Not, on the other hand, when I'm living in a compression chamber of constant activity and interaction. There is not enough space there to allow an unfolding of inspiration to occur.  My defense mechanism of being busy and not creating space in order not to feel serves only to numb and, though it's true that I am busy with such rich, amazing things and interacting with incredible humans, I need to remember to take space to reconnect with myself.

My thoughts about retreat are a beach setting, likely Galveston.  A Monday-Wednesday during which I will contemplate self-forgiveness and self-compassion. I will make pancakes and connect with my inner child through writing, dance, and play or some sort.  I'm thinking this month or next before leaving for South Africa.  It's edgy for me to disconnect from the world. I think, will I be forgotten?  Will I miss out?  Will I feel loneliness?  Will I feel too much or too intensely that I'll implode?  Likely not.  I've been told to turn fear into excitement in the past and will choose to do so here, now.

Thanks for reading.  This is edgy.  This life is. I want to lean in.

Brooke

It's like This Now

Life is full of unexpected twists and turns.  That is the one thing we can be certain about; the uncertainty.  It's Tuesday.  My day off.  I am writing this from my apartment in Hyde Park.  The air is muggy.  The seasons feel reluctant to change.  Winter one day, spring the next.  I had written an entire entry before this and it got deleted.  Ha, universe.  I know.  Non-attachment. I get it.  

So now, attempt number two, which will likely be a less raw version of the first because in my opinion, once the rawness is captured and written out once---the next time, it's likely to be a bit more polished, less jagged.  But, of course, we'll see.

My group of friends, my tribe---the original ladies I glued myself to when I moved here---my found family as I call them---have experienced a collective loss lately.  One of our friends passed away recently.   A man around our age.  Unexpectedly.  The news was an icy dagger. And now, instances of grief, grasping, anxiety, thoughts of my own mortality---of my loved one's mortality are very alive.  I called my mom shortly after and made her promise me to stay alive forever.  My little girl is full force steering the ship in these conversations.  I become 14 again, desiring to hide under my high school English Teacher's desk.  And, through all of it, an invitation to be together---to come into greater community to support one another.  And we will. And we are.

Loss is a strange thing.  It is so final.  In an instant, someone can just no longer exist in the physical realm.  It's baffling and almost too big to wrap my mind around.  And perhaps the mind is not intended to fully grasp death.  I get curious.  I have a desire to feel into my body more.  To get out of my thinking mind.  To let the process move through without justifying or labeling or creating a container for it.  It's clear that my body needs space holding just as much if not more than my mind.  I went to a restorative yoga class last night and it revealed to me just the important of stillness and having space held for me in a still, quiet space.  I fell asleep. Hard.  I dreamed.  I woke up to the final sounds of students shifting their way to a seated position.  I felt that on a deeper level, I had begun to create space to process.  And so, this will be my medicine for now.

I had written more before about life also.  About beautiful and exciting things happening in my life.  The inverse of death---the coming of spring.  But I want to leave it at process.  I want to hold the importance of receiving above all else.  It's what's ringing most true for me now.  Not accomplishments or happenings---more about creating space for what is without having to take action necessarily.  Be still.  Be you.  Be held. Fall asleep.  Don't. do. anything.

Until next week,

Brooke

The Magic of Being Present

I didn't really grapple with the true meaning of the sentiment of being present until I was 24 years old.  I was in a relationship with a recovering addict and went to my first ever Alanon meeting. My MO up until that point was that I HAD to know every single detail and prepare myself for an array of outcomes before making decisions.  It was hard on me and keeping me very stuck to do so. I would talk myself out of a lot of opportunities because of my debilitating fear of the unknown.  I can't do that because what about this?  I don't know about that because what if that?   

I thought I was going to Alanon for the addict in my life, but as most people in this recovery program will tell you---you begin to realize that the work is an inside job.  I was blessed to have a supportive sponsor for a boot camp style of reprogramming my habits and usual ways of thinking.  I came to the program with a lot of fear inside my body.  Only until I could see my troublesome ways of thinking mirrored back to me along with the affirmation that it is ok to let go, did I begin to loosen the grip on my life and surrender to the needing to know everything all the time attitude.  I began to trust in a bigger picture and felt looked out for by something greater than me.

I recently started teaching public meditation classes.  It is edgy to hold space for people in stillness and it's taking my growth as a teacher to another level.  I am having to be more vulnerable with my students and show up for them with my journey in mind, letting them into aspects of my practice and myself to allow them to see me.  To be seen in this way is sort of new.  Teaching others how to be present with themselves, is allowing me to see how I am showing up for myself.  Do I get tripped up in future thinking or distraction or am I tasting life on a moment to moment basis?

I was chatting with my friend Erika about touching into the present moment.  My mind still wants to test out every possible avenue before settling on a choice and I have subsequently talked myself out of things---I've been playing around a lot with the idea of detaching myself from the story line and instead, just noticing.  So much of my current journey--in cultivating my own private practice and attracting clients--and teaching vulnerable things--really forces me to tap into the moment.  There is so much that is simply unknown...but that doesn't mean that a beautiful thing isn't just lurking around the corner.

I taught yoga and meditation to a lawyer's convention in downtown Austin over the last several days.  For months and months I anticipated this.  Would people come?  Would they enjoy it?  What would the room look like?  Would I seem prepared and professional and taken seriously?  Would my dad like it?  Would my professional choices seem more valid through this effort or would I seem young and unsure?  

The conference itself, when finally here---didn't prove to be worth all the anticipatory worries and fears.  Everything went on without a hitch.  My dad attended my class for the first time and enjoyed it.  My mom came to each one and we spent time together joyfully.  It wasn't what I expected.  It was better and easier...like most things are.  My mind is a battlefield sometimes filled with what ifs and story lines that build and build so intensely that I create an alternate reality for myself.

I'm learning to let go a bit more and step into greater presence.  It is a necessity at this point.  I don't know what the future holds.  I have some ideas of what direction I'm headed....but there are a lot of murky unknowable things in the future that I will navigate once they arrive.  For now, I'm going to nap and enjoy the quiet of the afternoon as my window unit billows warm air into the room.

I love my life with all its uncertainty and ups and downs.  I am in a dance with it and ready to lean in more and more.

Until next week,

Brooke

Dear First Year Business Owners,

Disclaimer:  This letter is a collection of thoughts based on my own experiences as a small business owner in year one.  It is something that my past self may have appreciated reading and I'm hoping it inspires folks to stick with it, keep going and recognize just how 'normal' it is to be a human being figuring things out for the first time.

Dear first year business owners,

Congratulations!  You took the plunge and decided to go into work for yourself!  You have always wanted to be your own boss and create your own schedule in order to have the flexibility afforded by the entrepreneurial lifestyle.  

At first you may experience the most intense relief/elation/experience of serendipity and things lining up more than ever.  Opportunities seem to drop into your lap as if from the sky and you will want to say yes to all of it because your life is your own to curate for perhaps the first time in your life.  You will see that everything is happening in perfect timing without even a hiccup.  You'll meet tons of new people through collaborations and new groups you are suddenly attracted to and all will feel connected.  You will open your heart so wide that love will feel possible in all things.

You will try things for the first time, leading workshops or creating your own website and these experiences will come with them their own set of growing pains.  You will learn that you hate the computer and will often fantasize about throwing it out the window.  You will feel ashamed of your lackluster computer skills.  You will criticize yourself for not making enough time to do the dishes, laundry, and keep in touch with long distance friends.  You will notice that your priorities will have shifted to business nearly entirely and it will become obvious that you've been over doing it.  But, how would you know what your boundaries were unless you experienced a bit of the imbalance?  You are an experiencer after all.  You need to try things first for yourself before deciding what to take on.  

You will realize the importance of self-care and taking time off for yourself to recharge--and you will--but you will notice that you've become so obsessed with your phone and being available that your time away will still feel too plugged in and you will wonder why you don't feel recharged at all.  You redirect yourself and learn to leave your phone at home sometimes---that you won't miss much if you do.  This will be an exercise in trust that you will need to learn over and over again.

You'll feel guilty for not being as available as before for relationships and will need to assess where you are willing to put your energies.  You will negotiate this with yourself and realize that your friends and family are crucial to keep communication with because they are your support system and no task can be done fully well in isolation.

You will experience ups and downs.  At some point you may become depressed because of winter or relationships ending or politics or just the challenges of being a highly sensitive person---and you will want to withdraw.  You will spend more time alone and in contemplation and romanticize days that you felt better.  You will wonder if you will ever feel that good again---and you may even begin to question yourself for opening a private practice.  You may feel ashamed of your troubles with math and the complexity of taxes---and your mind might even beg you to go back to simpler times--when this stuff seemed less complicated.  When you didn't have to pay for your own health care plan or track mileage or self-promote.   But, you will push through all the painful discomfort of self-doubt because you know in your heart that this is what you were meant to do.  

The most important thing to remember is that after the challenges arise and the swirl of negative self-talk flood your mind, there will be a period of relief---and you will realize that you have been doing your very best throughout the whole journey and that there is so much more to do and experience.  That inevitably, after a contraction there will always be an expansion.  You will discover that the most important thing---all along---was to develop self-compassion---so that you could stick with the program and not get derailed by self-sabotage.  You can do it and you are doing it.

Remember to tell yourself you are proud of YOU.  That you have come so far.  That your hard work pays off and that there is nothing more rewarding than pushing through to achieve a goal.

I hope this helps!  Good luck,

-First Year Business Owner