Relax Into Being

We should be happy. I gaze at the Christmas tree and realize its completely unfazed by the family drama that occurred around it. I’m finally pausing after the hectic Christmas morning and in the pause feel the emotions I’ve suppressed: disappointment, anger, guilt, sadness. I have a slight headache, a sign of tension, a message that I’m pushing myself too hard.

My reaction to the unexpected (and for some family members unwanted) Christmas morning visitor was to rise to the occasion (a family motto), but not all reacted with a fake it till you make it attitude. Quite the opposite. There were outbursts, privately shed tears, and passive aggressive comments that were passed with the maple syrup.

Any holiday can be filled with family tension, but my household always “rises to the occasion” when it’s Christmas. We all try a little harder to please, we all soften our edges, we all forgive a bit more and argue a little less. This Christmas is an exception. Family dynamics are delicate and the balance tipped in no one’s favor when the surprise guest showed up for waffles. 

I’m a little heartbroken standing in this beautiful living room, which my mother decorated so beautifully with pine and twinkle lights. There’s the lingering scent of waffles and syrup still in the air, which is my father’s gift to his family, a Christmas breakfast. We should be happy.

The house is quiet but tense. We’ve all disappeared to our own rooms and corners to recover and reconnect. I take shelter in the living room. I reach for my holiday lifeline, a repeated mantra: “Tension is who you think you should be. Relaxation is who you are.”

The Chinese proverb dispels the growing internal tension, releases the shoulds and brings me home to my breath, to being a loving witness, to myself.

I relax. I relax by just being. I don’t need to be super happy, even if it is Christmas. I let go of the quiet judgment I hold against my family. I’ve been silently ranting at them for being so inflexible, insensitive and unwilling to go with the flow. Judging them builds tension. Just let them be and breathe.

Relaxation is who you are. I let this truth settle in and down into my bones. I become aware when tension clutches my muscles, when “shoulds” dictate my words and actions, making me feel frantic, frustrated, afraid. When tension arrives in the body, I remedy it by relaxing. I relax by mindfully breathing, opening my palms (or taking a mudra), and letting go of the need to micromanage people’s emotions and to control the situation.

I can be my authentic and peaceful-self by simply relaxing. This is the Christmas gift I treasure. A piece of wisdom leading me gently to the unfolding New Year. 

Find Home : A Mantra for the Holidays

The rush of the week sweeps me up. I’m trying too hard again. I'm reacting and resisting the pull of my feelings. I’m creating and believing stories I tell about myself, about my day. 

Come home, the breath pulls me into an embrace.

Come home to the breath, to the body, to this moment. A deep inhalation and a complete exhalation.

I breathe myself back to center and hold space to feel the emotions present: I am angry. This anger simmers, hisses and wants to scald. I experience the life-span of the emotion, knowing it will need to be spoken out loud soon, and the words have not yet formed, but that is for another time, for now I witness. 

I feel the touch of cold air on my skin. I crave alone time in the winter woods. To be in the company of bare trees and pine. I want to take shelter in the turning inward earth. Fellow introverts. I think of the woods, of wandering in stillness, and know this will happen, and soon. My heart needs it. This time will be a homecoming, too, of returning back to a self defined only by a beating heart, breath forming in cold air, and feet navigating a rugged path.

The longing for the woods softens with the knowing I’ll make a journey there soon. The present moment, with its twinkle lights and soft twilight, calls for my fullest awareness.

What do I need now to be my most vibrant self? I need to find home in myself by creating and honoring my own magical and sacred traditions. So...

I find home in my body by dancing wildly to the playlist from the ultimate Christmas romantic comedy, “Love Actually” (I imagine  dancing around 10 Downing Street with Hugh Grant).

I find home in my heart by curling up and reading on the living room couch by the sparkling tree.

I find home in my whimsical self by laughing with my sister while watching “Elf.”

I find home within by granting my family and friends the space to be as they need to be. I grant myself the space to be sensitive, to be upset, and to be sparkly happy. 

When stress arrives, when emotions grab hold, when negative self-talk speaks too loudly, the breath finds me. I find home. This is my mantra for the holiday. Be at home in the present, in the experience, in the quieting comfort of winter.

A Lesson From the Sea

I know this stretch of beach by heart. Once again, I find myself walking it alone in the company of thoughts and emerging emotions. I walk barefoot along the edge of the water, careful not to step on a jagged remain of a shell and letting the salty waves catch my toes in their bubbling white foam.

The wind is fierce, whipping my hair into tangles and complete disarray. I let nature be my hair stylist. I release appearance insecurities to the wind; or rather the wind gladly takes them from me.

Come as you are, the roaring waves and whistling wind demand. Let your true self be seen.

In the majestic presence of nature, I feel like I have no choice but to let my guard down and let myself be seen.

I feel emotionally raw here, feet sinking into wet sand. My thoughts circulate dilemmas waiting for me at home. The most pressing question, the one I hush, but nevertheless  whispers, rises to be heard. For once, I don’t mind the question, not here, walking in the sun, under the bluest piece of sky. I can handle myself here – the worries, the dark thoughts, the delights – they can be objectively and equally seen and understood like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle fashioning my twenty-four-year-old life.

I tend to overanalyze those puzzle pieces; I get too close when a step back provides the answer I’m seeking.

Don’t try so hard. Just be, sings the sea.

No matter the age I’ve been as I’ve walked this familiar piece of shore, and no matter what has occupied my mind (my college decision, my first love, my senior thesis), I return back to this same lesson, this same salty kissed reminder: Just be.

Deep breath. Breathing here is so easy; the wind makes sure that I am breathing evenly and deeply. No holding, no pushing, no desperately seeking, no struggling, the breath meets me here with ease and I meet my whole self here with ease.

Relax into Being. This is my holiday gift from my time at the sea. It’s a seashell of a lesson I pocket and take home with me. Home to the Bluegrass, to the yoga classes and students I love so much, and to cinnamon cappuccinos … and when I try too hard, I will remember the walk on the beach, the wind, the sun, and the sea’s message to simply and exquisitely be.