Elle Newman

Transformation Through Self Awareness

Sometimes When I Wander, I Am Actually Lost

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Patience is not learned in safety.

I often think to write when I’m excited about something, or I’m grateful for something, or have figured something out. It’s less comfortable—and potentially less interesting—to write from a place of not knowing. But since I think it’s important to note what happens in the middle of the story, before success and before you know if success is even coming. I’m at that moment right now. I’m not hopeless, I’m not depressed, but I am at a place of not knowing.

Tonight would have been the first group coaching session — if Dream Sessions had enough folks signed up to make it work. As the date approached and our numbers were still low, I experienced myriad emotions. I feel disappointment. I feel fear that I had messed it up somehow and it was my fault not enough people had signed up. Chris, the creator of Dream Sessions, has successfully run good sized groups. Even though he assures me this isn’t the case, it’s easy to feel like the weak link. I also feel embarrassed because part of promoting something and telling as many people as you possibly can means you then have to tell them “hey this didn’t happen… again.” I don’t love feeling vulnerable like this.

It was a hard call to make. There were some very excited people committed and ready to go who, when I met them, I thought, “heck yes, I totally want to get to know them!” I had to deliver the bad news that through no fault of their own — in some cases they even committed months ago — we couldn’t hold the series. I hate letting people down.

Now that I’ve done the work of cancelation, and everyone was very gracious and supportive, I’m okay. The world is not ending, and I’m not anxious or in despair. We tried all the things we knew to try. I still believe in our idea, and I still believe this is a great thing for my community. In my mind I can see how great this will be once it’s successful, but I’m stalled out at the starting line.

Chris and I are pulling together some fresh minds to brainstorm with us. We talked about how this will be a great part of our story because we are eternal optimists. I feel good about this next step. Partly because it feels good to have a plan, and partly because I’m always inspired by a good brainstorming session.

As I think about how to end this piece, I’m tempted to hold onto it, I could wait until we have a successful Dream Session series, maybe even save it until we’ve had several, maybe by then there would be a whole community of Dreamers out there all supporting each other with and the cool stuff they were doing. That kind of vulnerability I’m good with. The kind that points to another time I’ve safely lived through. “See how silly I was back then doubting myself?”

I remember riding on a bus in Bolivia with a copy of Comfortable with Uncertainty by Pema Chödrön. To be honest, I never finished it, I just picked it up at one hostel and left it at another. I was too overwhelmed to read much on that trip. I wasn’t used to traveling in places where I had to worry about things like blockades keeping me from catching my flight home. I knew even if I missed one flight I’d be able to get another, and I’d eventually make it home, but it kind of drove me nuts not being able to make solid plans.

Here is one sentence that I did read: “Patience is not learned in safety.” To me, this is what these moments are for: cultivating the patience to let life unfold. There are times you know where you’re going, and there are times you have to just learn from being lost.

When it’s Time to Leave

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About a year and a half ago I left a 7 year long relationship, and it was one of the hardest things I have ever done. This includes sitting next to my mother while she took her last breath. Looking into someone’s eyes while they are trying to convince you to love them enough to stay, and having to repeatedly say “no” is about as much fun as stabbing puppies.

I’m not sharing this for pity, and I hope that I’m not provoking your anger. If I had been recently heartbroken and it wasn’t my decision, I wouldn’t want to read about how hard it is to walk away. If this is you, please kindly read a different post.

As hard as the actual conversations of breakup between my ex and I were, the arguments in my mind were worse. I wanted there to be an indisputable reason that I had to put us through the pain of a break up. It was terrifying to be in charge of making the decision on my own, but the truth was he was sure he wanted to be with me and I was not sure I wanted to remain committed to him.

I talked it through with friends, family and counselors, trying to either convince them that I needed to leave, or let myself be convinced that I could stay. Many of them tried, unsuccessfully, to reassure me and convince me that my issues were solvable.

According to the common wisdom I encountered, I was experiencing a normal committed relationship. No one was abusing anyone, and when I wasn’t questioning whether I wanted to stay with him, we more or less got along. Our dogs were good friends, our families got along. I couldn’t put words to what I was longing for that seemed to make sense to anyone else. And when I tried, all I could come up was “I’m just not happy”.

“That’s what commitment is.”
“You just gotta fake it till you make it.”

I sincerely believe that in the right circumstances their advice would have been golden. I have personally known couples who have have walked through dark times together and come out stronger. Of course leaving shouldn’t be considered lightly, hence the arguments going on inside my head.

Finally one woman advised me: “I think you just have to listen to your body”. She meant this as literally as you can take it. My mind wasn’t helping me, maybe I could try asking another part of myself. How does your stomach feel? How does your heart feel? How does your throat feel? How does your head feel?

Truthfully, my heart was just full of pain. Pain when I imagined staying, pain when I thought about leaving, and the pain of not knowing. Follow my heart? My heart was lost as a blind sailor in a stormy sea.

But I had to admit that when I thought of staying my stomach hurt and my throat felt tight. My chest felt conflicted and my body felt heavy. And when I thought about being single, I felt sad, but my stomach relaxed and I felt hungry, and my throat and shoulders relaxed. My mind thought, “oh shit, you are really going to have to do this.”

“So that’s it, after all we’ve been through, you just want to leave me.”
“No, I hate that I’m leaving you, but I just don’t want to stay.”

Only a month later I understood why I had to leave. I was raw, I was grieving, but I felt alive. My creative energy returned. Reading Janet Woititz I came across the idea that a good relationship not only allows growth but frees you to be more of yourself. “Yes,” I thought, “that’s what I want!”

In many ways once I was single the real work began. Now that my focus wasn’t on either fixing my relationship or figuring out how to end it, I had to put that focus back on myself. When I tell the story it seems that things started clearing up for me quickly once I left, but the truth is things started changing for me once I started putting my attention back on my own life. In my case that coincided with the end of my relationship.

A counselor friend of mine put it this way. “Relationships are all about growth. Sometimes that growth comes from being together, you challenge each other, inspire each other, support each other in such a way you become a better version of you than you would be apart. Sometimes that growth comes in the pain and upheaval of the relationship ending.” One of the last times I talked to my ex, he told me that, though he still regrets we didn’t work things out, he can see growth in both of us that he didn’t think could have happened if we stayed together.

A year and a half later, I can see how I had been a part of creating a relationship that was ultimately unsatisfying. Stories are always easier to tell with the luxury of hindsight. It’s tempting to bombard you with lists of everything I’ve learned about myself and relationships—and life in general—through this process. But they are likely things you already know, or they are things you just need to learn for yourself.

I think most people are familiar with the lotus flower, which is known—among other fun facts—to grow out of dark, murky waters. Today, I’m reminded of my time in the mud and all of us who are slogging through it, feeling like we’re alone. Now that I’m on the other side of my break up, I talk to people all the time who have been through divorce, and many of them are like me; they left because they simply couldn’t thrive where they had planted themselves. What once seemed like a path of isolation has turned into a journey shared by many.

Hello World

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I have the tendency of beginning stories in the middle so it’s fitting that my “Hello World” introduction of my blog is not the first post but the third. So hello, and thanks in advance for the words of mine you read!

I recently learned that the first application that almost every programmer begins with is the “Hello World” application. It’s a simple application designed to demonstrate the basic principles and techniques that are used when designing more in-depth applications. In a perfect world this blog post would work the same way, I could give you the basics of how I use language so that later I’d be able to go more in depth.

I have often fantasized about being able to offer my friends and acquaintances an instruction manual, or perhaps a decoder ring, so that they could more easily understand my quirks. Of course, in relationships it’s not one person training another to understand them, it’s more like developing a shared language.

I’m in a new relationship with this blog you’re reading. I don’t know how often I’ll post or what kinds of things I’ll dare write about publicly, so I can’t tell you what to expect. There’s no decoder ring here. But if you’re willing, I invite you to follow along. The plan is simple: I will be human, I will think my thoughts, feel my feelings, and share what I can.

We are Built to Need Each Other

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We are built to need each other. Human beings aren’t well suited to isolation.

This was my massage therapist’s response to me lamenting that I couldn’t get the tension in my shoulders to let go on my own. This was news to me, believe it or not. To my amusement, I realized that instead of enjoying my much needed massage, I was busy trying to figure out exactly which muscles I needed to stretch to make her job obsolete. Even though my career is based on the fact that human beings can’t solve all their problems on their own, it turns out I secretly believed that I could.

It’s not that I hold onto deep guilt about needing help. I accept that it happens, but I’m prone to mistake self reliance for isolation. I have a habit of seeing a need for help as a subtle failing, albeit a forgivable one. In this case the belief was that if I was a good yoga teacher I wouldn’t need massage. But what if the physical make up of our muscles is such that they are healthier when they have massage? If this is true my premise that once I’m a good enough yoga teacher I won’t need massage anymore is not only wrong, but is going against the natural order of things. Talk about setting myself up to fail!

I am not a closed person, but I will confess to a history of reservation. Part of it is the aforementioned feeling that if I was really living correctly I wouldn’t need others, and another part is wanting to hedge my bets against needing anyone. If I think I need a specific person, eventually that person won’t be there. I certainly haven’t enjoyed the pressure of another needing me, and I wouldn’t want to inflict that on anyone else.

But that refers to specific people, not a big picture truth of people in general needing community. I see this truth all the time: when I open up and communicate more, rather than closing down, my world gets larger. Of course, this requires risk. Relationships of any kind are always accompanied by an intimate relationship with the unknown.

Perhaps our biology pushes in the direction of opening up to others. Who amongst us would choose to be so vulnerable if the rewards weren’t so great and the consequences of shutting down so severe?

Consider the necessity of pollinators. A hummingbird needs a plant’s flower for sustenance, just as the plant needs to be pollinated. Massage therapists can make a living doing something they (hopefully) enjoy, but when I get a massage it’s not a one-to-one exchange of money for healing touch. There’s an exchange of ideas, and in our case a friendship has grown out of working together. When I feel better not only do I benefit, but my yoga students benefit directly. Almost everyone I am involved with each day benefits in some way; I have more patience, better focus, and I’m more likely to say yes to some last minute adventure. Perhaps telling the story of how I wasn’t injured but needed help releasing some tension inspires someone else to get the help they need and feel better. And on and on.

Remembering that I’m not meant to exist in isolation has opened up more than just being able to enjoy body work. I find myself being more patient with the people around me, and more patient with myself. I’ve started looking at my stumbles and trouble I’ve gotten into — and the injuries that have forced me to rely on others — not as something to get over to get on with my real life, but the whole point. I’m not saying I can keep this mindset up 24/7 (have you met me?), but checking into this grace daily has brought a deeper release than even a full body massage.

Dancing the Transformative Edge

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Edge street signThis week the theme of my yoga classes is practicing at our transformative edge. In each pose, try to find your edge and practice there. While at first this might seem as if I’m asking you to be in more pain in every pose, I’m actually asking you to be more conscious in every pose.

One of the pillars of Forrest Yoga is integrity. Often the advanced practice is not the flashy pose, but rather choosing the option that best builds strength for you. Most advances I’ve made come from backing out, gaining a better understanding of the basic pieces of the posture, building strength in an aligned way, and then working my way back up. This was as true for core work as it was for handstands.

In Yin, the transformative edge looks different. Physically, we are practicing the art of letting go of unneeded tension. Find a way to be in the posture where we can relax but it’s a challenge. In this Sunday’s class our meditation will include images of lowering into a well and being pulled back up. We will create space to dip into previously unknown parts of ourselves.

Twenty years ago, long before I ever considered teaching yoga, I was learning about transformative edges in the sense of human development. You can recognize the places you are growing because it’s where life gets challenging. We get stuck in places where our current ways of thinking don’t work. We literally have to grow as human beings to get past that point. Even if you leave a job, move to a different city, leave your boyfriend and start dating someone else — you will find yourself in the same frustrating corner until you grow past it. If you want to find your transformative edge, look for the repeating patterns in your life, and then resist the urge to tell yourself you already know everything about it. You don’t.

On the Mat

Recently, during my own practice, I was able to hold bridge with one leg up and then the other for 10 breaths for the first time. I was so excited about it that I took a moment to do a victory dance around my mat. (I assume dance breaks are a part of everyone’s private practice.) It felt awesome to break significant ground! But of course that isn’t where the bulk of the work was. Perhaps what I should have celebrated was all the days I worked uncomfortably, raising a leg, realizing I was clenching, lowering, relaxing my shoulders and jaw, coming back to my breath and tentatively raising my leg slightly off the ground again.

In bridge, I was primarily working on developing strength, but there’s an underlying head game for me as well. When I feel inadequate in a pose my mind barrages me with a chorus of “I can’t”s. And then it starts down well-worn paths of criticism. “You should be able to do this, you’re a yoga teacher”. “You need to practice more, everyone’s going to know that you don’t practice enough”. And it goes on and on down an icky shame spiral. You know what kind of thinking doesn’t contribute to developing strength? Internal criticism and self shaming. I have learned that when poses are hard for me, I want to avoid them as much for the emotional discomfort as the physical discomfort. In fact, on the days that I can stand up to my inner bullies I don’t shy away from the discomfort of the pose quite as much.

There is another tricky part of this pose for me and that’s the fact that I have bone chips floating in one of my knees. Some days I have pain in my bridge that has nothing to do with how strong I am. I have found that the stronger I get the less my knees bother me, but when negotiating sensation in a pose it takes skilled, honest maneuvering to negotiate around the temptation to bail. Bridge warms up your legs and is a no-joke posture. Done in perfect health, your legs will shake and your muscles may scream at you — it’s not ever going to be comfortable in the way that eating ice cream and watching an episode of Big Bang is comfortable. But that is different than the shooting pain of a bone chip pressing on a nerve. It takes a lot of self knowledge to dance the transformative edge while exercising self care. I have learned if my jaw is clenched and I’m holding my breath in bridge, I’m not okay.

Off the Mat

I have been struggling over some promotional material I need to put together for a group coaching project that I’m really excited about. Despite my level of commitment, I have not been able to even start until recently. Finally, after I admitted why I was feeling so stressed out, my roommate offered to help me. “Just get me a bullet list of the information you need and I can take it from there.” So easy! However, two days and one tension headache later I finally had to admit I was so anxious about it my mind was blanking. The trouble I was having writing the promo material had nothing to do with my inability to write. This kind of stress has caused me to quit projects in the past, I hate facing my mind when it goes blank. But this group coaching group is important enough that I finally asked for more help.

I asked, “Can you just listen to me while I think through what needs to be in the promo material and ask questions when I’m missing stuff, I’m really freaking out and going blank.” I hated admitting defeat and felt like a moron, but I forged ahead.

“So like I need a date, time, and place. The name of it, and our names… what else?” I honestly had no idea.

“Well some information about what Dream Sessions actually are would be good and some short bios.”

“Oh… right. Well that’s easy, I have that stuff.”

I bring this up because my transformational edge isn’t actually about learning how to write a decent paragraph describing an event. It’s about asking for help when I need it, rather than calling myself a bunch of names and then quitting. I am so good at calling myself names and criticizing, but what I’m not good at is giving myself a break and getting help when I need it.

It might seem simple. What I was asking for took less than 10 minutes, and my roommate was able to remind me I needed a bio and some description and play a game on his phone so I really wasn’t imposing him at all. And yet in my mind it was a huge deal. See what I mean? Those transformative edges are tricky, slippery buggers.

This week we will be working our edge together. Some of our work is similar, but this is largely internal work. I hope you feel the support of a community that’s working on the same thing. There is nothing more inspiring to me than being around people who value self growth.

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