Getting to Yes

I came to yoga looking for an easy way out. I was a junior in college and needed a gym credit--and bowling was already full. So, yoga it was for me. Dressed in leggings and the requisite '90s flannel shirt, I made my way to the wrestling room in my campus' athletic center. It was a windowless, padded, smelly cell of a space. I took my seat on the floor and waited to be told what to do so that I could follow the instructions, earn my credit, and get back to my life . . . Funny the way those unexpected little things grab ya. 2014 will mark 20 years that I've been practicing yoga. Aside from writing (and reading, walking, and breathing), I haven't stuck with anything in my life for that long. What started out as a easy way to earn a gym credit has grown to become one of the most important ways--mentally, even more so than physically--that I choose to take care of myself.

The mental benefits took much longer to cultivate. Or maybe they just took longer for me to realize. Whatever the case, their lessons have been both subtle and profound. My yoga practice has taught me:

• To fall gracefully, and to enter into new things with grace, too.
• That perfection is an unattainable moving target I shouldn't be aiming for in the first place.
• That feeling sensation--that experiencing experience--is the real beauty of it all.
• That my body is a living, breathing thing. Embody it! Embrace it. Respect it.
• To feel my heart beat, to quiet my mind with inhales and exhales, and to use these tools to return to my home base.
• To go at my own pace, and not to worry about comparing my trajectory to anyone else's.

I know there are plenty of other ways for people to learn these lessons. But for me, there's just something about using a physical activity in order to tap into something mental. So, *that's* what that whole mind-body thing is all about . . .

For the last four years, I've consciously kicked off my new year with my radiant friend Chanel's soul-stirring class. We flow, we stretch, we restore, and we rock out a little bit to one of her awesome playlists. At the end of it all, we grab a sparkly slip of paper and an envelope. On that paper, we jot down for ourselves just one word that we're going to carry with us into the new year. Last year, I chose "truth,"--a word that has proven itself to be so daunting, so eye-opening, and so (deep exhale) right.

This year, I am going with "yes"--a word that came to me when I spotted a metallic wine-colored tote bag at the Cole Haan outlet last week. I've spent a lifetime already saying "no" to things. Not just "thing" things. To people, to opportunities, to possibilities. To my body, my soul, my heart.

I bought the bag--and a matching cosmetics case. I almost talked myself out of going to the outlets in the first place. Crowds. Sales. Chaos. Stuff. But I said "yes"--and then I said "yes" again. And then, as I drove home, I thought about all of the things I can't wait to say "yes" to in 2014.

And when I feel the "nos" start to creep back in, I've got all those tools listed above that will remind me how to get to "yes." Incidentally, there's a negotiations book called Getting To Yes--and every time I see it on a bookshelf, my brain translates it to "getting toys."

I sort of think saying "yes" is like getting a toy. It's fun. It's new. It brings about a smile, yes?

Soundtrack: "Blackbird" by Paul McCartney

Playlist: Don’t Forget to Breathe

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This song has been on one of my yoga instructor’s playlists all summer—and in my head (in a good way!) for just as long.

From the first strum of Alexi Murdoch’s guitar in that first downward-facing dog of the day, I can feel the stress just slide off of my body. Ahhh . . . the beauty of deep, slow, complete breaths.

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2010 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making space in my busy day for more deep inhales and exhales. 

I'm Gathering the Colors

My summer has been quiet but rich in simple pleasures. Soft-serve cones with rainbow sprinkles, outdoor yoga sessions, mini golf, sunrise walks and sunset runs, dramatic skies, leisurely seafood feasts, afternoons reading on the patio, quality time on park benches, fresh raspberries in my lemonade, sunbeam naps with my old cat, lush flowers beckoning me to stop and sniff. The list is long, but I've downloaded each and every sensation of the season.

"Gathering the colors," one of my yoga instructors called it, referring to the children's storybook, Frederick. The book is about a little field mouse who knows how valuable it is to have a harvest of vibrant, enjoyable memories to draw from that can help you get through more challenging times that inevitably lie ahead.

So, from here on out--and until further notice--I'm committed to focusing on everything that's bright and living and lush in experience. Such as:

• Brushing my hand across the lavender leaves
• Tuning in to the steady hum of insect chirps
• Sucking down wedges of watermelon before the juices drip down my wrist
• Watching the blue jays, cardinals, finches, and doves mingle and dine at our bird feeder
• Enjoying the sunshine on my shoulders and the warm whisk of wind by my ears
• Stopping to take in the talents of a street musician
• Savoring local and in-season produce
• Walking barefoot across the grass
• Breathing deep

"Supplies," Frederick calls them. Even more essential than a scarf and gloves for this New England girl, I say.

 _________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--mentally and physically--to live happily ever after. (Photo taken in the Boston Public Garden during my summer staycation)

My Time Out

It came out of nowhere as the workday neared its end. One minute I was making progress on my to-do list; the next I was in complete meltdown mode. Inconsolable, indefatigable, petulant.  I needed a time out--or a miniature Milky Way Midnight.  I called my boyfriend at home and explained, with all the ration I could muster, that I did not want to grill seafood for dinner, nor did I want to eat any vegetables. I did not want to go to the grocery store, cook dinner, or pick up something ready-made. I was hungry and  just wanted dinner to appear without either of us having to cook. I blamed it all on my lunch: a lovely pocket sandwich filled with a homemade bean dip, sprouts, cucumber, red pepper, carrots, avocado, and tomato. And now I had bacon on the brain. Or maybe an ice cream sundae.

Somehow, I made it to the grocery store. I staggered through the aisles, managed to run over my own foot with the cart, and left the store with an odd assortment of food, including a few mozzarella sticks from the prepared foods counter--which I ate before even leaving the parking lot.

Once home, I collapsed on the couch and ate slices of Swiss cheese and Sun Chips while watching that awful show about the Kardashian sisters on E! I didn't feel any better. I puttered around upstairs. I hovered over Andrew. I hovered over the cat. Finally, at my wit's end, I cleared a space in our spare room, swung my legs up the wall, and closed my eyes.

Twenty minutes later I reemerged, a whole new Holly. It wasn't long before I was in the kitchen running a knife through some fresh herbs and zesting a lemon for this delightful lemon spaghetti dish (how I managed to pick up parsley and cream in my state of mind earlier, I do not know).

So, did I learn any lessons while in my self-imposed time out? Glad you asked!

While a Milky Way Midnight (or 17) would have been delightful for a moment, what I was really craving most were a few slow, deep breaths. With all systems a go, go, go--and a to-do list that was growing by the hour--I had flat-out forgotten to pay attention to myself.

Viparita karani (a.k.a. legs up the wall, one of my favorite yoga poses) has a magical way of soothing my nervous system and draining tension from my limbs. Lying still and with my eyes closed, the deep breaths I needed a few hours earlier suddenly flowed easily. No fancy props needed (though they're nice), this pose is completely worth you clearing a place along the wall and giving it a try at home.

• Sit parallel to the wall with your hip right along the baseboard, knees bent and feet flat on the floor.
• Turn your hands so that your fingertips face the wall
• Begin to lower your back to the floor as you raise your legs up the wall
• Give yourself a little wiggle so that your backside is in nice and close to the wall
• Rest your arms by your side--above or below your head--with your palms facing up
• Give your shoulder blades a little tuck, rolling them back and down
• Exhale

With your eyes closed and nothing to do and nowhere else to be, use your breath to sweep away whatever it is that's cluttering your mind or weighing you down. Feel your chest rise and fall as you recharge your mental batteries, breathing in just as deeply as you let go on the out breath. Maybe you even choose a short little mantra to repeat to yourself, letting it absorb into your psyche with each inhale annd exhale.

If the logistics (i.e., working in an office) get in the way of you being able to slide your leg up the wall, just work with the breath component of this pose. Even if it means you have to hide out in a bathroom stall. Save the chocolate for another time when you can truly enjoy it. For now, just find your breath . . . perhaps for the first time today.

 _________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--mentally and physically--to live happily ever after. Ahhh, the power of positive thinking and deep breaths. (Photo credit: Debra McClinton)

My Happy Birthday Mantra

Today is my birthday--my 35th birthday. And while I so easily could have fallen into the this is the year I'll lose those 10 pounds, or drink my greens, or query the editor of this or that magazine, or dabble with retinols game of cat-and-mouse that I like to play with myself, I decided not to go that route. At least not decidedly so. I kept it simple. Instead, I took the day off from work and hit up a morning yoga class at Exhale with one of my new favorite teachers, Taryn Toomey. Breathing seemed like the right thing to aspire to.

And breathe we did.

In order to help us harness our focus this chilly and gray Monday morning, she had us incorporate a mantra into our flow--a sequence of phrases repeated over and over in our head, with each inhale and each exhale. A meditation in motion. The point being that, with repetition, our thoughts will become our reality and we can create our own positive state of happiness and well-being. A pretty good gift to myself, if I do say so.

Taryn started us out with her mantra, and then encouraged us to let it morph into whatever shape naturally occurred. Over the next 75 minutes, I fell in love with these words. So much so that I jotted them down on the only paper I had--my cup of tea--and brought it home with me.

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--both mentally and physically--to live happily ever after.