A Study in Attention
I attended an event last week hosted by GlobalGiving, a non-profit organization I represent as an ambassador. They invited economist, professor, and writer, Bill Easterly, to come and talk about his new book, The Tyranny of Experts. He spoke about philanthropy and human rights, sharing stories of those in need who captured headlines only to fade out of our awareness with the next morning’s news. What I found fascinating about Professor Easterly’s presentation was his excavation of the root of action. Rather than quenching our thirst for a list of actionable items on a powerpoint slide, he directed our attention to the question, “How do we get people to care?” My takeaway from the event was simple but profound: when we care deeply, action is effortless.
The Space In Between
We’re in the throes of transition (Spring is here!) and it’s got me thinking a lot about change. I love how the depth of a concept continues to reveal itself through the process of living it; change is something we’re faced with on a regular basis, and yet, we are constantly relearning what it means. Transition is often thought of as the movement between two points—it’s the space between where we’ve been and where we’re going—and while transitions are the only obviously route from point A to point B, we spend most of the journey looking for a shortcut.
Pratipaksha Bhavanam Bouquet
I love when yoga philosophy makes a real difference in daily life. As yogis, we all have moments of transformation in the studio when an instruction will magically open the door to a deeper understanding of our bodies. As students of yoga, we learn about concepts like openness, practice, and surrender, but then all too often we go home and slip back into the kinds of ineffective patterns we’ve committed to move beyond. I mean, mastering headstand is great, but if I then turn around and go through my life with my head up my ass, what’s the point?
Jamaica Me Happy
I hopped on a plane to Jamaica right after Thanksgiving, strategically escaping the hustle-and-bustle-for-no-reason that hijacks the holiday season. It was very much a last-minute trip, which is totally out of character for me but pushing forward at full speed had taken its toll and I finally had an epiphany (breakdown) while standing in line at City Bakery. I had been working non-stop in every way imaginable for as long as I could remember and while all of this work had led to some pretty amazing and surprising triumphs, both personally and professionally, the sheer magnitude of my exhaustion in that moment crushed me with the weight of a million pretzel croissants. I booked the trip that very same night. Buh-bye. Comfortably sprawled on my lounge chair by the pool, mellowed by my margarita drip, I dove into the book I had started way back in June. Yes, June. I know. That’s exactly what I said.
The Hole in the Sidewalk
I have literally spent the last three weeks trying to compose an inspiring “New Year’s” post. Every word has felt like pulling teeth and it’s quite clear that even though my topic is definitive (and now, arguably outdated), I have no idea what I’m trying to say. I’ve tried writing in the morning, before the influence of caffeine. I’ve tried writing late at night, after the influence of Pinot Noir. Neither scenario has helped me to nail down a point. I’ve tried to just let it go—”So I won’t say anything inspiring this January. Who cares!”—but I can’t seem to move on. For fear that my poor blog might collect dust all year while I remain immobilized by writer’s block, it seems that my only choice is to try and give birth to whatever it is that lies restless in my heart.
Friendly Mantras
If I’m having a bad day I usually call up one of my girlfriends to remind me that my life is actually a bright and sunny place. They’re remarkable, good friends, because they know exactly how to snap you out of it. Truth be told, our friends are usually a heck of a lot nicer to us than we are to ourselves. If we asked our friends to describe us they would make us blush. We might be told that we’re compassionate, strong, beautiful and inspirational. If we asked ourselves we would probably just go on and on about how we’re not good enough and it would be as if we were talking about a completely different person.
Pied Piper
I just took the hardest yoga class of my life. Part of me feels speechless because it’s difficult to come up with the words to describe my experience…to paint a picture that would take the reader into my world on my mat in that moment. Let me start by saying this; tonight I trekked along an arduous new path and found myself surprised by the results. My personal work was not to master one of the dozen or so different arm balances taught in class, but to force myself not to leave the room and waltz up to the front desk demanding a refund.
Free Time
I ran into a fellow teacher on the streets of New York a few weeks ago (I just love that about New York) and, as serendipitous meetings go, she walked into my day at exactly the right moment. Knee-deep in my own melodrama, I was desperately trying to dig myself out of that black hole of negativity. When it comes to our baggage, it’s hard to let go. Even if our negative narrative creates suffering, there’s a strange satisfaction in just letting the whole thing snowball into a self-fulfilling prophecy. Somewhere deep inside we know there’s a switch we can flip, but we can’t help ourselves. On some level, the pain of our drama is more pleasurable than our desire to move beyond it.