It’s been awhile…
I have made it to that point of not blogging for so long that I decided to keep not blogging because it had been so long. My heart has been calling me to the computer though, so here we are. Sitting in the JFK airport surrounded by strangers, seems like the perfect place to talk about an unpopular topic.
Anxiety.
Anxiety is the quiet companion that accompanies some of us through our day and creeps back in just when we thought we had practiced enough yoga, sat in enough meditation, focused on breathing for long enough, said enough prayers, screamed loud enough, or otherwise assuaged it to the point of no return. Anxiety sometimes comes to me with nervousness and racing thoughts, and other times comes to me masquerading as fear or uncertainty. Anxiety has been something that has traveled alongside me for awhile, though I did not always have the words to describe exactly what to call this stubborn passenger. I have come to see this nuisance and part of my DNA as a teacher (hallelujah). This teacher is instructing me about the necessity of showing myself love, grace, and tenderness—so that I may gift them to myself—and to the world, which is perhaps now more than ever in need of these offerings.
Self-love and the love that I offered to others felt like two completely different things to me for a chunk of my life. I have learned now that for me, the love that I show myself, and the love that I show the world must be reflections of each other That love which I offer up—I must also offer down to myself, even (and especially) when I am having one of those days. The unconditional nature of love to me is fascinating and amazing, and freeing. This great big love that is available to us even when shit hits the fan helps me find my joy and calms my sometimes-wild mind.
Grace is a word that has felt like a deep breath to me for as long as I can remember. Grace has allowed me to work towards a deep sense of acceptance of my self, and of others. Perhaps like love—until we can show grace to ourselves, we cannot fully offer it to others. Grace has allowed me to be “enough” in the eyes of an insidious eating disorder, and to walk through recovery in way that is simultaneously imperfect and miraculous. Grace has strengthened me to arrive at this day, and shown me to be compassionate towards the many ways in which I am and all of us are still incredible works in progress.
Tenderness is learning to treat myself the way that I would treat one of my beloved kindergarteners, or my loved ones, or my dog. Tenderness is being gentle with myself, forgiving myself for being human, and allowing myself to do whatever I need to do to show myself kindness. Sometimes that means climbing a mountain, and sometimes that means exerting just enough energy to run the bathwater and dump some bubbles in. Mostly it means being as good to myself as I try to be to others.
This anxiety thing is a shared experience that many people can connect to and for me comes and goes as it pleases. Moving and changing things around generally shakes it up enough that it rises to the surface and reminds me to slow down and be where my body is*. Finding gratitude for this anxiety has been hit or miss—but for today I am holding space for that word and for all of you who are picking up what I'm putting down.
*Thanks to one of my loves Allison, and her mama for "be where your body is". These words are forever with me!
I have made it to that point of not blogging for so long that I decided to keep not blogging because it had been so long. My heart has been calling me to the computer though, so here we are. Sitting in the JFK airport surrounded by strangers, seems like the perfect place to talk about an unpopular topic.
Anxiety.
Anxiety is the quiet companion that accompanies some of us through our day and creeps back in just when we thought we had practiced enough yoga, sat in enough meditation, focused on breathing for long enough, said enough prayers, screamed loud enough, or otherwise assuaged it to the point of no return. Anxiety sometimes comes to me with nervousness and racing thoughts, and other times comes to me masquerading as fear or uncertainty. Anxiety has been something that has traveled alongside me for awhile, though I did not always have the words to describe exactly what to call this stubborn passenger. I have come to see this nuisance and part of my DNA as a teacher (hallelujah). This teacher is instructing me about the necessity of showing myself love, grace, and tenderness—so that I may gift them to myself—and to the world, which is perhaps now more than ever in need of these offerings.
Self-love and the love that I offered to others felt like two completely different things to me for a chunk of my life. I have learned now that for me, the love that I show myself, and the love that I show the world must be reflections of each other That love which I offer up—I must also offer down to myself, even (and especially) when I am having one of those days. The unconditional nature of love to me is fascinating and amazing, and freeing. This great big love that is available to us even when shit hits the fan helps me find my joy and calms my sometimes-wild mind.
Grace is a word that has felt like a deep breath to me for as long as I can remember. Grace has allowed me to work towards a deep sense of acceptance of my self, and of others. Perhaps like love—until we can show grace to ourselves, we cannot fully offer it to others. Grace has allowed me to be “enough” in the eyes of an insidious eating disorder, and to walk through recovery in way that is simultaneously imperfect and miraculous. Grace has strengthened me to arrive at this day, and shown me to be compassionate towards the many ways in which I am and all of us are still incredible works in progress.
Tenderness is learning to treat myself the way that I would treat one of my beloved kindergarteners, or my loved ones, or my dog. Tenderness is being gentle with myself, forgiving myself for being human, and allowing myself to do whatever I need to do to show myself kindness. Sometimes that means climbing a mountain, and sometimes that means exerting just enough energy to run the bathwater and dump some bubbles in. Mostly it means being as good to myself as I try to be to others.
This anxiety thing is a shared experience that many people can connect to and for me comes and goes as it pleases. Moving and changing things around generally shakes it up enough that it rises to the surface and reminds me to slow down and be where my body is*. Finding gratitude for this anxiety has been hit or miss—but for today I am holding space for that word and for all of you who are picking up what I'm putting down.
*Thanks to one of my loves Allison, and her mama for "be where your body is". These words are forever with me!