Bliss & Heartbreak

 Joseph Campbell encourages us to “follow our bliss,” to pursue what makes our heart sing. I’m feeling blissful these September days as I write and teach yoga to teens and beloved Barefoot Works  students. I’m in a swoon for emerging Fall. I relish the calm that comes with the sweet chill.

The appearance of Fall also brings a melancholy, a feeling not too far from heartache. This heartache intensifies as I read and listen to the news. I’m reminded of my heartbreak as I read about the escalation of Iraqi women raped and sold into slavery.

“Follow your heartbreak,” is Andrew Harvey’s  mantra. Harvey advocates for us to become “sacred activists” in our local communities by committing energy and purpose to the injustices of the world that break our hearts: Animal abuse, child neglect in the foster system, the lack of affordable nutritional food in grocery stores…the list goes on.

The trafficking of the innocent and the vulnerable breaks my heart: Youth runaways seeking a safe haven only to be controlled and pimped out at truck stops on I-75 and in advertisements on backpage.com. Immigrants’ dreams of a better life - a life made by an honest wage, free from civil war or an abusive home – become a web the traffickers use to ensnare their innocent victims.

I followed this heartbreak through college, studying, researching and presenting on trafficking abroad and here in the Bluegrass.  And this Saturday, I feel blessed to have the rare opportunity to combine both my passion and my heartbreak: teaching a yoga class that benefits victims of human trafficking in Kentucky.

I’m delighted to be co-teaching with my wise and beautiful friend, Delia Rose at the Plantory, a recently remodeled office space for non-profits and other sacred activists. The proceeds benefit the HOPE Campaign , an outreach program aimed at directly helping victims out of trafficking.

A former victim once realized that her only alone time was during bathroom breaks between johns. This insight sparked an idea to place critical, life-saving information on soap bars in hotels and truck stops where trafficking frequently occurs. S.O.A.P. outreach succeeded during the Kentucky Derby in reaching victims of sex trafficking.  Inspired by S.O.A.P, the HOPE Campaign distributes chap sticks (featuring the national human trafficking hotline number) in Lexington hotels, laundry mats, parks, and surrounding truck stops.

The Polaris Project , an advocacy organization based in D.C. runs the national hotline for human trafficking and since the implementation of the HOPE Campaign has reported a significant increase in calls from victims in Kentucky. Calls from victims are a rare occurrence; typically, a concerned witness calls the hotline.

Preparing the indie-inspired playlist for Saturday’s class (Sylvan Esso is my new music crush), I think about pairing yoga, a practice geared toward self-realization and self-love with the heavy heart topic of human trafficking.  I believe the two, like bliss and heartbreak, can fit perfectly.

Yoga is not about escaping the world. Yoga is learning how to live and be in the world. This begins by whole-heartedly embracing yourself. I can easily embrace my joyful, sparkly side, but yoga also challenges me to acknowledge and embrace my fears, my insecurities, my moments of jealousy and meanness. I mirror the world and the world mirrors me. I can connect to myself and from this place of connection reach out and express compassion, understanding, or simply be a presence of peace in the world.

Bliss and heartbreak are present as I prepare to teach. Bliss delights in designing a fun yoga flow and while I choose alt-J songs for the playlist. Heartbreak appears when reviewing the statistics about trafficking victims in the state. Heartbreak gives rise to anger and a determination to do well and do my best. The two share my heart space, prompting me to follow both my heartbreak and bliss.

Busyness & BEing

Sunglasses and car keys in hand, I mentally repeat my day’s to-do list as I head out the front door. I shout a bon voyage to my dad who suddenly appears, asking where I’m headed (I’m a true  millennial, I’m living at home with my parentals), and I cut him off, quickly launching into my day’s planned errands, schemes and yoga classes scheduled to teach.

Busy, busy, busy.

My dad kindly listens and then goes on to say he just wanted to give me a heads up about a plumbing crew coming to the house that afternoon. He wishes me luck as I go on my way, and I feel rather silly for giving such a grand speech about my “busy day.”

Busy: My hot button word. Lately, I’ve become sensitive to saying “I’m busy” and conscious of how I schedule my time. I’ve even become aware of the “busy rant”. This is something I’ve witnessed friends and family do. And I’m totally guilty of it, too. During a “busy rant”, I list to-dos, scheduled musts and elaborate on the day’s details in an effort to prove my self-worth.

Here’s the flow of logic: If I’m busy, then I think I’m doing enough, and if I’m doing enough, then I am enough, meaning I am a whole human being.

This logic could be the result of a busy-obsessed society. We are all busy. We all are pursuing passions while fulfilling obligations and crossing things off and adding things on to the never-ending to-do lists. We are in the midst of a busyness epidemic. We live in a caffeinated, pill popping society that pressures us to be constantly busy because if we’re not busy, then what are we? How do we define ourselves without our full calendars?

I know that one of the main reasons I busy rant is because I’m seeking validation. I want external validation from my friends, family and peers about my worthiness, a worthiness determined entirely on the external. My ego wants to purr.

The ego feeds off of busyness. The ego craves recognition, superiority, success. The ego pushes us to have full calendars, to go and go and do and do until the brink of exhaustion. The ego taunts us, hissing that we are not enough until we achieve this grade, this position, this type of car, this status. In the greedy eyes of the ego, we will never be enough, and happiness will always exist in the next step, in the next achievement, always in the future, never in the present.

My busy rant to my Dad stemmed from insecurity around not having a full-time job. I want to prove that I am doing enough and therefore, that I Am Enough. The ironic thing is that I busy ranted to a person who loves me unconditionally. My agenda for the day does not determine how much my Dad, or really my parents, love me.

I’m blessed to have parents who fully and lovingly accept and support me, and all my bohemian-like decisions (like taking a year off before I went to college. The “gap year” was one of the best decisions I ever made and I had the full support of my parents to do it). Their pride and belief in me does not stem from my academic achievements, my VISTA year, or how many yoga classes I teach – they love me for me. And true friends and romantic partners love me for me and not my resume.

And frankly, I don’t want to be busy. I want to be intentional. Sometimes being busy truly can’t be helped, and I get that. I’m concerned with the always on the go busyness. And I’ve done that busy, busy, busy routine and in the end I always erupt in tears. I feel foreign to myself because I haven’t granted myself the time to reconnect and nourish my creative, introverted self.

My schedule dramatically changed since ending VISTA and I’m curious about my reaction to blank space. It doesn’t necessarily need to be filled. I’m teaching more yoga and I feel fabulous and passionate about my classes (!!!), but it also calls for more downtime. For an introvert like me, teaching, really any type of public speaking engagement requires downtime because I am giving energy to students and taking time to thoughtfully create and plan. This blank space is not for others – it is for me. The blank space in my planner stays free from scheduled to-dos.

This time of non-doing is time of great doing. It’s a pause that creates clarity. Purposeful action emerges from the pause. The blank space asks me to check-in and make sure I say “yes” to opportunities and people that light me up and politely say “no” to events that feel heavy and limit time with people who consume and leave me exhausted.

As Rumi says, “Be with those who help your being.” I whole-heartedly agree.

September promises to be a full month, so I’m consciously taking more quiet time and investing in relationships that truly nourish my soul. This is my life right here and right now, and I don’t want to spend the majority of my existence feeling busy and stressed, especially if this busyness means not nurturing relationships, manifesting my dreams into reality, and caring for myself.

This Fall I’m taking busyness off my to-do list. Time to get comfortable with simple blank space. 

You CAN Wear White After Labor Day

This blast of August heat has sent my fashion self in a craze for creamy lace and white tulle skirts (no wedding bells, I’m actually in mourning for the now taken Ryan Gosling who is Eva Mendes’ baby daddy).  

“Better get your white clothing fill,” I hear that inner critic say, “because no white after Labor Day.”

There’s a flashback to middle school (those high-water pants days): “Meredith is wearing WHITE shoes after labor day,” a friend proudly taunted, pointing out my white strappy sandals.

I can still feel the hot flush of embarrassment. I’m returning to this experience now to rewrite the fashion faux pas. Also, this moment is relevant to similar societal and self-inflicted pressures I’m feeling to “fit in.”

I’m transitioning from my first “real world” job to…well, the Glorious Now. I’ve purposefully carved out this time to be one of self-exploration. I’m taking time to center and tune in to what makes my heart sing and makes me feel utterly alive. I’m a student of yoga again, eager to take and learn from other wise instructors and passionate about crafting playful and meaningful classes and thoroughly enjoying teaching. I’m reading Brene Brown and Susan Cain, journaling and writing. Fall is a sweet blend of additional yoga teaching opportunities and schemes for trips, but there’s also a voice saying, “You’re not enough; you’re not doing enough.”

This voice is kept on the back burner, but bubbles up when I get asked from more traditionalist folk: “So, what are you doing?”

“Teaching yoga.”

“Teaching yoga and…what else are you doing?”

“Breathing deeply.”

I want to live an intentional and soul-satisfying life. I feel content about my life as it is right now because it is my sweetly gorgeous life and I have the privilege to decide my next step. Sometimes I over-think about what others think and say about me wearing white jeans after Labor Day, or my “bohemian” decision to be open to wandering for a while. I’m back to being the sixth grader easily embarrassed by standing out and not following the rules.

So, I'm standing up for that sixth grader to say: This no white fashion rule is way out of date. Remember:  “On Wednesdays we wear pink.”   Basically, Victorian era mean girls got together and thought up, “After labor day we don’t wear white so we can tell who and who not to socialize with tonight.” I’m not particularly keen to revive that archaic fashion rule.  

The traditional guidelines to navigating a young gal’s twenties also no longer apply. I’m not getting married and having kids (at this rate, I’m thinking mid-thirties, maybe forties…). I’m not on the academic track. I hope to return back to school to pursue a graduate degree, but I want to be crystal clear about the program I decide to go into and have it align and feed my life’s passions. And that exploration will take time, which is what I’m granting myself.

I’m struggling with fully granting myself permission to take the time to listen and figure out, or simply be in the building of the next step. I honestly feel a bit guilty about not throwing myself crazily into the next big job, but a higher-self believes that taking time now will manifest in me being a greater help to others sooner rather than later. Also, stressing out about not doing enough or being enough takes up too much mental space and throws me into analytical thinking instead of deeply listening.

I know better than to stress about what is next. An achy tiredness descends when I give up too much energy and time to stress. The things in my life that have worked out with such wonder and fabulousness happened with great ease: enrolling and getting certified as a yoga instructor, going to Denmark for a summer abroad program, and working at one of my favorite non-profits. Before the beginning of each life-changing event, I was calm and grounded and ready.

Now is the time to be calm, get grounded and be ready. It begins by shedding off rules that no longer apply, such as wearing a beloved fairy-like, lacey cream dress to greet the September days. Wear white after labor day  if it fits your mood and let your life style be dictated by the number one fashion designer: YOU.