Rely on your Foundation

Sometimes I get in a funk.

Sometimes we all do.

When I used to be in a funk, I would just sit in it.

Or I would drink

Or smoke

Or masturbate

Or distract myself some other way.

Now when I get in a funk, I try to sit still.

This reminds me of something.

I used to drink two or three cups of coffee a day.

And in the mornings, I used to wake up feeling

Ugh!  If I don't have a cup of coffee I am going to DIE!!!!!

It was the worst feeling that I was totally happy

to continue feeling.

So I did this 21 day cleanse where I had to give up caffeine.

During the first two days, I had to lie on a couch in my office

(thank God my bosses were out of town)

and just sleep.

After that, I felt amazing.

My energy was sustained,

I allowed myself to be tired, 

but it didn't last long as long as I had some water and something to eat in the morning.

That horrible mid afternoon dip didn't happen.

You know the one.  That's when you get another cup of coffee at 3 or 4 in the afternoon.

From that point forward, I was off of caffeine because it felt so much better to be off of it

than it did to get that little jolt first thing in the morning.

I was addicted!

(Side note: Now I do get tired a bit more often, but I think that's because I need to give up sugar.  I'll tackle that one on the next cleanse, maybe.)

This brings me back to my funk.

I used to get into a funk and then I would do these things to cover it up.

It was like being tired.  Instead of coffee I would grab

a snack

a drink

my dick

and temporarily feel better.  But then every time I would have a funk, I would have a

FUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKK.

And the cycle would repeat.

Repeat and grab.

Repeat and grab.

Repeat and grab.

Like I've mentioned before, I started meditating recently after trying for a year to get into it.

But I did have a practice of stillness that I was working on for that year.

And whenever I would feel a funk, I would just sit still.

Or I would incorporate stillness into my life,

so that the funk wouldn't hit me as bad.

But when it did,

I would be still.

I would breathe.

I would close my eyes.

I would just stop.

Because what happens to the funk,

what makes it more powerful,

are the thoughts I would have to support that funk.

The tape in my head that would run to tell me shitty things about myself.

Kabbalah calls it hitting PAUSE.

I would have to hit PAUSE and be still.

Today I had a little funk session.

And I had a plan to go to my weekly yoga class that I do every Tuesday.

I haven't been in two weeks because of work obligations.

I was planning on going today, but because of this funk I almost didn't make it there.

I came home after a walk with a friend

and made some food

and laid in my bed.

My boyfriend, who was home at the time, asked me if I was tired.

And then he asked me if I was going to the office.

I immediately felt defensive.

I'm working.  I'm going to work!!!!  

I had the thought but didn't say anything.

It was the funk.  It was making me angry.

I realized I was having resistance to going to yoga,

even though I knew that it would calm me down and center me.

The boyfriend left to run some errands.

It was 11:50.

I thought,

I don't need to go to yoga.  I'm tired.  I can stay here and get some stuff done before I meet Jenn or I can go to the library early.

In reality, I would have ended up laying in bed.

Maybe making it.

Maybe not.

Maybe eating something.

Maybe sleeping.

So I gathered my things and left before I could do anything else.

It was 12:09.  My thoughts were still racing

It's late.  I won't get there until right at 12:30, when class starts.

Then there's parking in South Pasadena.

What if there isn't any?

Last time I went, I interrupted the class because I was late.

I don't want to do that again.

And the Resistance went on and on and on.

But I drove on the 134.

I got off at Orange Grove.

I made a right.

I made a right on Mission Street.

And I had a spot waiting for me.

I went in.

Took off my shoes.

Paid my fee.

Set my mat down.

And class started.

I was on time.

Jeremy, our yogi, sat us all down.

We were going to work on our foundation today.

Our core.

Perfect.

I just focused on my breathing.

I let the funk slide out of me as I was doing 

my downward dog.

As I had my body folded over,

all of the funk drained from my face,

like blood draining from my face.

We did the triangle pose.

And we did poses where we had to shift our weight

and rely on our foundation.

I had to put all of my weight on my right hand.

I had to do a standing split.

I was thinking about my foundation.

When he was going around giving corrections,

I didn't get any.

My body knew exactly what to do.

I had been practicing long enough

that my body understood

where to turn out

where to lay my weight

where to relax.

And I was focused on my breathing.

And relying on my foundation.

I wasn't over thinking it.

I wasn't allowing the messages of negativity to 

collapse my pose

or to get me to fall over.

I fell into alignment with my self.

And my body supported me.

I was de-funked.

What does relying on my foundation mean to me?

I love this about my yoga practice.

My body teaches me the things that my mind

is resistant to.

Or that my heart resists out of fear.

My body is the physical reality.

It is a literal gut check.

So when my body is balanced

and my foundation is strong

and I rely on what I know…

the body responds.

It lets me know that I am fine.

So when I need to understand something

that my intellect or my fear is keeping me at

an arms length distance from…

I get into my body.

I had a conversation with my friend earlier that got me thinking

about this.

I know what feels right.

I know what deepens my practice.

If I have a yogi who is interested in helping me

experience more of my self,

more of my stretch, 

more of my will sustaining my poses,

then I will grow into a fuller self.

I will deepen my practice.

If I have someone in my life who wants to create me 

in their own image

instead of fully in my own

then they'll misinstruct me and I'll have injuries.

So I do what feels right

and I stop doing what does not feel right.

Simple.

When I stray away from that,

I am lost.

I am depleted.

I have given over my power to someone else.

And my practice is most important.

Not the rewards.

I can give myself rewards.

I can give myself praise.

I can give myself candy.

I can give myself an extra hour of sleep.

I can give myself a run.

I can give myself a new pair of jeans.

Maybe this is what Joss Whedon was getting to when he talked about rewarding yourself often when you're writing.

If I'm rewarding yourself,

then I don't have a need to seek rewards or validation from other people.

They may come.

And they may be great rewards.

But when I'm used to getting rewarded regularly on my own,

I know another reward is coming soon,

so I don't stop my work.

I acknowledge and keep going.

If I'm stuck in the validation cycle,

then I feel GREAT when someone says something nice

and SHITTY when they say something that hurts me.

I have given away my power.

And it's hard not to do that in a town that runs on validation.

But all of that can be happening around me and it doesn't matter

because I'm in my office,

as the world is spinning by,

and I'm doing my work.

My day goes the way I want it to go,

based on what I am doing.

And constant productivity,

energy,

circulation

gets my endorphins going and gets me more excited to keep going.

Like my yoga class today.

I am grateful for yoga.

I am grateful for openness.

I am grateful for Joss Whedon.

I am grateful for cute bearded guy eye candy at the library.

I am grateful for Jenn's company today, reminding me to keep going.

I am grateful for the knowledge being given to me.

I am grateful for today.