Accepting truth doesn't make it any easier to deal with, but it does bring a sincerity to every breath thereafter. It seems to really live is to live your truth. Sat Nam - Truth is my name. Truth does not harm, no matter how uncomfortable. Truth forces us to listen to ourselves and acknowledge where we are in this life. I'm in a transitional phase as those who have been reading here already know. My world view is changing - expanding. I've become more empathetic. I'm accepting many truths without blaming myself for misunderstanding. Guilt has no part in my process. I'm unashamed. So many things I've realized have been very difficult. The way I am mothering needs to change in order to bring more joy to our days. I've taken action on that. How I am educating my children needs to be more fluid and I have begun to desire a broader experience for them. Action has occurred there. I want to release my creativity in a way that brings it outside of the hobby and into the professional. I'm doing it! I'm finding my voice, asking for what I need, and making new plans. I'm hopeful despite the darkness. I know there's a light.
The hard part about this new truth is that it may be for me only. It's so brand new that I haven't been able to discern what lesson I am to take away from the knowing of it. The fact that it might leave me very alone in the experiencing of it makes it that much more complex. It's just the way it has to be. We land in places in our own time and for our own reasons. It's very much like many episodes of Dr. Who with Amy Pond. Everyone has their own particulars and sometimes things become muddled as they try to glean where the particulars meet to form a clear idea where two or more experiences become singular. I had to find the courage to admit truth and yesterday as I stoked the fire in the belly, I found it. I decided to lay consequences aside and use my voice. Accepting things as they are is the first step to being able to make things better. With acceptance comes understanding. With understanding comes the ability to build upon what is and transform. The kicker is that I don't know that I am brave enough to see this truth completely through. As I said, it is one I'm most likely to experience alone. Having been so lonely for so long, going back to that place is a scary proposition. However, in typing that, I just realized, I haven't left that place. I'm still utterly alone on the peer level. I'm still there, grasping at the wind, hoping to catch a ride somewhere. As exciting as renewing old dreams, discovering independence, reclaiming my womanhood, demanding respect, and shouting victory over concepts that no longer serve me is, I have seen that it would be so easy to just box some of these things up, put them away, and continue in some improved form of the way things were. This way I am not disruptive to others. This way no feelings are hurt. This way I'm not forcing my energies upon another's life inadvertently or otherwise. That would be the easy way. I know I can do that. I have my daughters. I'm writing again, and I have yoga. Those things can be enough to bring me joy from time to time. Yet, I know in my heart of hearts that the easy way is not acceptable if I want to provide the right example to my girls. I don't want them to be ashamed or hide themselves from the world. Therefore, I cannot consider that an option for myself. I have to process this truth in a healthy way. So, the new work begins. Like running downhill full force...
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Yesterday, I told a friend that I felt like I was about to be shot off in a rocket to the moon. I had just finished my yoga practice trying to ground myself, but at this point in time, that might be impossible. I alternate between wanting to cry really hard, laugh and be light, have very serious conversations with people I like about life, and punching a wall. It feels very discombobulated. I've often wondered when I'd feel truly grown up. Lately, I feel more of that girl I was at 15, who I did like a whole lot. I feel her wanting to come out and be the adult that she so longed to be all those years ago. I'm doing my best to get to know her again, but I suppose part of being an adult is doing that kind of thing on limited time. Responsibilities have to be considered and the love I have for the lives I've created will forever influence my next movements. When you've been shot off in a rocket to the moon, there's falling involved. For the first time, I'm reading the novel written by Gurney Norman - Divine Right's Trip. He's a Kentucky author and former poet laureate whom I've taken some writing workshops with. Back when I taught public school, I thoroughly enjoyed sharing his story "Fat Monroe" from his collection Kinfolks with my seventh graders. (Dang, I'm old enough to have taught school and that be 10 years ago! My students are now getting married and having their own babies.) There's a segment I read a few days ago that made my heart ache tremendously. from Falling: When D.R. felt particularly tired, and dirty, and locked up in his mind, it was like he was the one who was falling, with Estelle being dragged along behind. That wasn’t accurate of course. That was just stuff in D.R.’s head, a product of the same weary fever that produced the sense of falling in the first place. There was a way in which Estelle had already fallen further than D.R. had, already knew stuff that he had yet to learn. In a way, she was coming up as he went down, and reaching out a hand to save him from what she already knew. The thing that overwhelmed D.R. when he thought about it that way was how utterly generous that was of her, and how dangerous for her. I identify with both characters here, but I do feel like I'm doing my best to climb out of the hole. It is strange that I so want company in the climbing. I'm used to dealing with personal conflicts almost completely on my own. This time, I don't want to. I also wouldn't have thought that at nearly 40 years old, I'd be blogging about personal growth. I know one day I'll get back to posting more about my interests and my daughters. I'm simply thankful this point in my life is happening in summer as I am nearly totally consumed by experiencing it. I can feel all this while my girls play outside at dusk. I can take long walks with my Gwen on my back and the dog on the leash. I can have conversations without worrying about the time even though I will always worry that my desire to have people I appreciate along for this ride will be a bother to them. Historically, that has been true. I'm trying to let go and know that those who want to be with me, will be there for me. I will return the favor. I truly always do.
I keep trying to ground this rocket because I don't want to end up alone on the moon. I do yoga. I write. I say sappy things to friends who I'm convinced I aggravate like the plague. Despite all this effort to stay on my own two feet, it only takes minutes for the fires to burn again. I get the jittery feeling around my heart, the butterflies in my stomach, and the ache to cry and laugh while someone holds me and I actually do take off to the moon - alone or otherwise.
It's 11pm on a Thursday and my little gals are sleeping. My head is so full of things I want to write about. I write for weeks in my head sometimes before I get a chance to put it down somewhere. It's hard, at times, to retrieve the right words as my multitasking mind likes to store things in broad ideas. The house is quiet and while watching sappy, chick TV, I realized I had to get this down before I forget. I cannot forget this. I CANNOT forget this. I'm putting it here. My journal is public. My heart laid bare.
Many months ago a friend and mentor suggested I explore the spiritual principle of Joy. What is joy? Have I ever felt it? If so, when? What brings me joy? I thought on it for awhile and I gave up. It is hard to know if you've experienced something you can't define. The closest I got was when my girls were born. Yet, it wasn't quite what I would call joy. It was blissful satisfaction. It was sacred beyond words. Joy seems too simple a word for those complex moments post birth. I gave up thinking about it. Then, I began doing a yoga DVD from my favorite teachers, Ana Brett and Ravi Singh.
I've been having pain in my arms, neck, and shoulders. This just so happens to be where the heart chakra is located. Mushy love stuff always has been kind of cheesy for me. Not much into Kum Ba Yah or hippie dippy make love all around the world. I am too cynical for it. I've felt too much. Hurt too much. It just doesn't seem realistic. Except, as much as I'd hate to admit, there's part of me that wants to believe it. A part that wants the possibility.
So, to address the physical pain, I began doing the yoga once a week to address the heart center. Green Energy is a part of a weekly rotation of 6 practices/DVDs that I have set out for myself. Green Energy comes on Thursdays. Each time I do it, my heart center opens a little more. I can feel it being physically freed. As woo-hoo as it may sound to some, I've also experienced spiritual and emotional release as a part of this practice. I've come to understand in a deeper way some of the things that hurt me so as a child and as an adult. I've come to understand what I thought I could never. Then, this Thursday, I felt something strange during my practice. A realization came to me as clear as the full moon in the dark of night. My happiness doesn't depend upon anyone else nor does my happiness depend upon another's being happy. It doesn't depend upon the value someone places upon me in their life. Happiness is boundlessness. It is freedom. It is self worth. It is the space you give yourself to love others within the boundaries of loving yourself. I am born free. I am born boundless. It is by choice if I feel tied down. To listen, know, and follow my own heart is the key to giving myself the space to find joy. Where my path crosses another's there will be effect. However, the effect is the responsibility of the one whose path I cross if I am going forth in love and truth. We share each other in moments. Some moments so brief can impact a lifetime so profoundly. It is when we act from our truth, that our presence can lead another to their own. Happiness doesn't come from responsibility and obligation. Responsibility and obligation can be chosen to inform happiness. I told a friend the other night that I have always been a results oriented person. The student, the pleaser, has always wanted to hear that I'm all right. I've needed that reassurance my whole life - the kudos, the reward, the A+, the feeling of being wanted. My happiness has hinged on what I could do for others to make them ask for my presence. My happiness has been determined by my feeling of security in bonds among people. That kind of happiness isn't real. It is lonely. It is fleeting. It is panicking. It is finite. I'm still not sure what joy feels like, but I think I will know when I feel it. I think I owe it to myself and everyone in my life to be free enough to be happy. To acknowledge my truth, set my own goals, and work in love toward them. I just had to get it down before I forget.
Here's my yoga body.
Here's its backside - in leggings!
Let's review some stats on this yoga body.
Oh, and despite doing yoga 6 days every week, being strong and toned, and being within its normal weight for its height and frame, this body isn't America's ideal for beauty - far from it. Using your body to grow and birth beautiful and big baby girls can cause some modifications. Here is all of the flattest, most awesome abs this yoga body has ever had.
Imagine the reaction if this body donned a bikini on the beach this summer at its pinnacle of health and physical fitness. Scandalous!
The truth is that this is the first time I have ever exposed my midriff in public in my whole life. I'm extremely modest. Also, the truth is that I have never worn these pants without an over-sized t-shirt in public. I hate feeling exposed. However, recently, I heard about a Montana legislator introducing a bill that would ban the wearing of yoga pants. I wear yoga pants in public all the time. Half my life, if it weren't for yoga pants, I wouldn't have any clothes to wear at all. I thought it had to be a joke. It wasn't. It was an indecent exposure proposition. I knew there wasn't any way it could possibly pass, so I thought not another thing of it. Until yesterday. Yesterday, one of the yoga teachers I follow on Facebook posted a link to an article titledThe Politics of Yoga Pants: Dignity, Spandex, and Dysmorphia - What a Load of Goods are Being Sold?. The article refers to the bill proposal briefly and then begins to discuss the issues of yoga as a corrupt, western, billion dollar industry, how it has morphed from its origination in India, and how yoga pants are causing self esteem problems in women. The yoga teacher who posted it called yoga pants - "yoga porn". For yoga clothing manufacturers specifically, it’s about cradling that cute ass in spandex. And it's not just legislators who are up in arms. Consumers are arguing right, left, and everywhere in between about our cultural love of exhibiting the back bump.
The author, Susan Stringfellow, goes on to discuss how the big business of yoga in the United States caters to women of a certain income and body type with well known companies like Lululemon not carrying plus sizes and hiding their size 10s and 12s in the back of the store. Then, Stringfellow goes on to write:
Keep in mind that the myth of Narcissus predates American culture, which proves that the conundrum of our self-amazement has been around since antiquity, probably before. Yet, what can be argued is that the fashion designs sold by the yoga clothes companies are playing on human vanities and insecurities. And, as Klein contends, these repetitive presentations of "health" and "beauty" are capable of warping our sense of realistic expectations about who we should be.
And, all this means that yoga pants are really something to get our panties in a wad over? Yoga pants objectify women's bodies? Tasteless advertising makes us fantasize about a body we'll never have and therefore we are pressured to wear yoga pants that don't fit or accentuate our perfect for us bodies?
I'm not buying it. I've seen people of all sizes and shapes wear yoga pants and leggings. I've seen them worn in all kinds of beautiful and bizarre ways. One thing I have never been is shocked by the body wearing them. I'm a mother, and I have to say that I'm not speaking for myself when I say that when we are out running errands, feeding chickens, or taking the little gals to dance class, yoga pants are the most comfortable attire. Even the Yoga Body Image Coalition highlighted by the article has people doing yoga in yoga pants with all body types on their website. I have seen an upsurge in more realistic advertising on yoga sites I frequent and have for several years. I also recall seeing an ad of a completely nude athletic woman and not thinking twice about it. What's the deal? I think reactions like this bring up great questions, but can tend toward the illogically radical like the Montana bill proposal to ban yoga pants. After reading this article, it was obvious what problems in American culture we should be addressing, and it isn't yoga pants. Yoga pants aren't causing a whole slue of people to feel poorly about their bodies. No, the problem is a huge one and multifaceted. We've went from one extreme to another in this country in terms of our display of the human form and sexuality and our ways of living and economy. Our cultural norms formed in a way that was heavily influenced by prudish Puritanism. Now, we are at the opposite end of the spectrum where every day from the time we are born we are inundated by hyper-sexualized images of the human body that aren't even representative of reality. Those of us who exist in the in between are confused and silent. The article also highlighted the conundrum of, Veronica Partridge, who vowed to not wear yoga pants or leggings in public again. Her husband honestly revealed to her that sometimes he couldn't help but to look at women when they wear yoga pants. I feel for her and her husband and the realities of this issue. I feel for women who have felt those less than respectful eyes on their bodies. The issue is not the woman's clothes. It is our culture's portrayal of the female form not as something to be admired for its beauty, but for something to lust for. There is a huge difference in admiring beauty and lusting. I can see someone and their beauty and enjoy looking at them without wanting to be with them sexually. In a culture where that cannot be separated, the problem is not in form fitting clothes enticing looks. The problem is in perversion. I would bet that in a culture where women regularly go topless don't have this issue in this same form. The other issue is with unethical corporations and mass consumerism. To discuss these topics would take more writing than I want to do here. My main concern in this is the issue of the female body image. I have three daughters who I hope to raise with confidence and respect for their bodies. I have a husband who is an artist and has drawn nude women from life. He also tattoos people of all walks of life five days a week. So, the issue of body image speaks to me profoundly. If we cannot look upon another person's body without making a value judgment or it producing lustful thoughts, the issue isn't theirs. It is ours. Yoga pants aren't shaming women. Our society is shaming women through airbrushed advertising, hyper-sexualizing, hiding tasteful representation of the human form, and all but forbidding self expression through means of dress, hairstyle, and body modification. Our society has a double standard. No issue with putting a 10 year old in booty shorts and bikinis in such a sexual climate, but takes issue with a fully covered body in yoga pants. Beauty, health, and fitness come in all shapes and sizes. I have spent my life learning to be separate from my body because of low self esteem. Yoga has connected me with this temple that is my body in wonderful ways. I'm not ashamed of it. That's why I can post these pictures in this context. My body was created to serve my essence in this life, and it is doing a fine job of it. Through yoga, I can worship Creator with my body while making it strong and healing it where the doctors cannot reach. If America has a bastardized form of yoga and yoga pants are nothing but yoga porn, that speaks to our priorities as Americans being VERY skewed. Nothing more. Wear those yoga pants. They're comfortable for crying out loud. Oh, and one last thing. I typically don't wear yoga pants to do yoga any way. Here's the head of that yoga body saying farewell for now. Yes, it's that serious.
I practice yoga 6-7 days a week as much as possible, which is most of the time. I wake up early to get in an hour to an hour and a half of practice before the rest of the house rises and I become mother and wife. My practice has become as essential to my well being as eating and I know without it, I would not be the person I am or nearly as healthy and mobile. It's kind of interesting how a mountain gal who didn't live close to a yoga community got into yoga. Technology links us all. Yoga has been part of my life since college off and on. Back then, I was introduced to a basic sun salutation practice through a Jane Fonda VHS tape when my goal was basically be skinny and tough. Now, yoga is way more than a workout to me. It is the foundation of my spiritual practice. It is my time with God. As cliche as it might sound, it is true that my yoga mat has been a place of profound transformation for me in body and soul. I have a hard time describing what takes place there to those who don't have a practice because it is so ingrained in feeling. Yoga means union. Through yoga, even on the hardest days, I connect my body, mind, and spirit to the Divine. The branch of yoga I practice the majority of the time is Kundalini yoga. It is said that Kundalini yoga is the oldest form of yoga and was kept a secret from the general public for centuries. Kundalini yoga was brought to the west by Yogi Bhajan and is considered a yogic path that is designed for the householder or those who participate in society as opposed to those who choose a spiritual path that separates them from society. If you Google Kundalini yoga, you'll get all kinds of interesting hits, most of which are sensationalism. Kundalini yoga is a very powerful natural technology, but taken under normal circumstances it is a practice that is safe and accessible to people from all walks of life and belief systems. The experience I have had with it is so special that I practice this style almost exclusively. It provides me with a physical workout and what I call "real" church - a physical/emotional experience of the presence of God. There are no yoga studios anywhere near where I live, so I practice using DVDs and YouTube. In 2010, I became certified to teach prenatal yoga through the Asheville Yoga Center in North Carolina, but the interest for yoga in my community has always been too small to have classes. My home practice feeds me pretty well. Ravi Singh and Ana Brett are my go to teachers. They have somewhere near 24 DVDs and an upcoming book. Their website offers extensive resources and they have an online presence on Facebook to guide their students learning from a distance. Another teacher I appreciate very much is Maya Fiennes. She has an comprehensive video library and I find her practice very doable. One day, I'd love to share Kundalini yoga with others. We'll see where it leads me. I feel amazingly blessed by sustaining a yoga practice. It has been worth prioritizing. Yoga is the only exercise I have found I need other than normal daily activities. Because of my need to keep my blood pressure low and the medication that helps me with that, other more cardio intensive exercise has become too much for me. Yet, through yoga and techniques like "the breath of fire" I do things that are "more aerobic than aerobics." I believe anyone who wants to can take up a yoga practice. If you can breathe, you can do yoga. Yoga changes lives. Yoga supports my body and my body supports my life. I cannot ask for a better exchange. Yoga is a practice that sustains me. |
AuthorKelli Hansel Haywood is the mother of three daughters living in the mountains of southeastern Kentucky. She is a writer, weightlifter, yoga and movement instructor, chakra reader, and Reiki practitioner. Categories
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