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“Make the pose feel like home.” ~ Liz Reynolds, yoga teacher

In a few days, Frank and I leave a house we love and step out into the next part of our life together. There are countless things in this house that I love: all the light and the windows and the arched openings, the view to the woods behind us, the front door that I refinished and the knocker we bought in Guatemala. And the kitchen. It has been just the most lovely kitchen to be in.

As good as these things feel, they aren’t what make it home. When Liz suggested making my yoga pose feel like home, it got me thinking. What is home really anyway?

“Home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling.” ~ Cecelia Ahern

I’ve felt at home in houses that were not my own and in many natural places with no walls and recently in a very small camper pulled by a big red truck. And there have been times in my life when my own house hasn’t felt like home to me. Ultimately, it is the feeling, the ease and peace and connection that I feel there that make a home. Circumstances and other people may contribute to those feelings, but the one who has the greatest impact on the hominess of any situation is me. It’s up to me to make myself at home.

“Just keep coming home to yourself. You are the one you have been waiting for.” ~ Byron Katie

I have laughed a lot in this house. I’ve cried, too. I’ve felt calm and relaxed and I’ve felt rattled to my very bones. In the five years that we’ve lived here, I’ve deepened my practices, my marriage has gotten stronger, and made better friends with myself. One of the main reasons I get on the cushion, on the mat, in the studio, at the computer is to cultivate more ease and friendliness with my body, my mind and my emotions. Whenever my (multiple and easily accessible) buttons get pushed, I ask myself, how can I be easy and peaceful with whatever is happening in or around me?

“Be grateful for the home you have, knowing that at this moment, all you have is all you need.” ~ Sarah Ban Breathnach

The coming weeks will be a slow motion transplanting, with our roots hovering in the air for a while until our next house is ready. As we’ve prepared for a summer of peripatetic adventures, we’ve talked a good deal about the difference between “need” and “want.”

When I’ve felt most upset by the uncertainty, that’s when I’ve been most attached to what I “need.” I get tight and make lists: my favorite sundresses, my yoga mat, blue tea cup, my computer, my four-color pens. I need my pillows, my hiking boots, my decaffeinated green tea and all my earrings.

The more I can relax and be present, the more I can trust that everything will work out, and that I have the power to change what I need to, the less attached I am to what I “need.” The less I need, the freer, the more peaceful, the more content I am. And the more at home I feel.

“I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.” ~ Maya Angelou

This is my intention for the summer and beyond. May it be so for you. Make yourself at home wherever you are and however you are.

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P.S. For more on this topic, read Rick Hanson’s post Be Home from Just One Thing

“Tell the truth.”  I’ve been told since I was a little girl.  “Tell the truth.”  As a kid, it seemed straightforward:  you either ate the cookie or you didn’t, you either got home by 10 or not.  “Tell the truth.”  Simple enough.  Not that I always did it, but the concept always seemed clear.  As I’ve gotten older, I find that truth-telling has lots of subtleties and nuances.  It’s not as simple as I used to think.

In the past few weeks, I feel like the Universe is telling me something about the telling the truth.  I’ve gotten three big messages about truth telling:  discovering the hidden lies I tell myself, telling the truth about my imperfections and owning my mistakes.  All three have the potential to deepen my connection to myself and others, so I’m doing my best to pay attention and … tell the truth.

NIA: TELLING THE TRUTH TO MYSELF ABOUT MYSELF

The first message from the Universe about truth telling was during my re-take of the Nia Blue Belt training in June.   The focus of the Blue Belt is on Communication, Relationship, and Intimacy with a particular highlight on impeccability of the word.  On the first day of the training, we talked about the Five Levels of Truth Telling:

The Five Levels of Truth Telling:

To tell the truth to…

  1. Myself about myself
  2. Myself about another
  3. Another about myself
  4. That other about another
  5. Everyone about anything

I’ve taken the Blue Belt before.  I’ve been practicing Nia for 12 years.  Although I am familiar with the Five Levels, there was something new for me to learn particularly about Level 1:  Telling the truth to myself about myself.

During my sabbatical, especially the first four weeks, I discovered a bunch of things that I was lying to myself about.  I told myself that I wasn’t doing Nia “right.”  I told myself that I wasn’t all that good at it.  I told myself that I had to teach every day.  I told myself that I could be mindful without meditating.  I told myself that I didn’t need to spend time in Nature to feel good.  Lies.  Every one.

There is a distinction between these lies that I was uncovering and the harsh declarations of my (extremely vocal and strong-willed) inner critic.  Oh sure, I’m familiar with her opinions on me.  They usually sound something like:  “Your butt looks bad in those pants,” and “That was mean and you shouldn’t have said that,” and “You know better.”  Delightful stuff.  I have a whole protocol to deal with the proclamations of what I like to call my “Pointy Girl.”  Pointy Girl and her trash talk are one thing (and perhaps fodder for a future post), but the lies I discovered early in my sabbatical were different.

On sabbatical, having some space outside the rush and rumble of my teaching schedule helped me hear my thoughts and beliefs more clearly.  For example, while harvesting kale and lettuce out of the garden one morning, I heard myself say to myself, “If I’m really going to be a Nia teacher, I have to teach at least 6 times a week.”  I sat back in the lettuce bed and thought, “Hmph.  Is that really true?  I wonder where that came from?”  My guess is that if I’d been scrambling to get a playlist ready for class, preparing for a meeting and putting together a grocery list, I wouldn’t have heard that voice and if I had, I wouldn’t have questioned it.

For me, Level 1 of the Five Levels of Truth is about really listening not just to how I talk to myself but to how I think and what I believe.  The inspirational teacher, Byron Katie, encourages us to ask (among other things), “Is it true? Can you absolutely know that it’s true?” (Click here for more information about Byron Katie and The Work.)  They can be insidious, these beliefs that we have somehow subsumed into our consciousness as “truth” or “reality” when, in fact, they are just manifestations of the mind.

JAMIE CATTO: TELL THE TRUTH OF IMPERFECTION

In May, through a whole series of synchronicities, coincidences and kindnesses, I was lucky enough to have a one-on-one coaching session with one of my heroes, Jamie Catto.  He was incredibly generous to offer me his guidance, experience and insights.  I’ve been following his work since he created the two 1GiantLeap CDs, and it was a thrill and honor to work with him directly.  Much to my delight, shortly after our session together, he started posting more frequently on his blog.  Little coaching sessions delivered right to my email box!  Nice.  Just a couple of weeks ago, he posted this one on the Intimacy of Imperfection.

In it, he suggests that if we really want to be close to others, we need to openly share our insecurities, our craziness, our obsessions.  For real intimacy, we have to reveal those sides of ourselves that we usually hide.  Scary, but true.  What happens if I actually say out loud that sometimes I am agitated by our teenager, and that often I feel irrationally irritated by someone leaving a dirty dish in the sink?  What if I owned my anxiety, my judgments, my depression?  What if I admitted that I am terrified of being criticized?

As I’ve tiptoed out onto the thin ice of this idea of revealing imperfections, I have found that the ice really isn’t so thin.  There is first a sense of relief in sharing these hidden bits.  Then, more often than not, after I’ve revealed what is true for me, someone approaches me and says, “We’ve been in family therapy for years, too” or “I have anxiety, too.”  Reveal the imperfection and find a deeper connection.

REAL LOVE: ADMITTING MY MISTAKES

The third message from the Universe about truth telling came from a book called Real Love by Dr. Greg Baer.  Two of my closest friends have been telling me about this book for years.  For whatever reason (coincidence?  perhaps.), I was ready to read it now.

There are many principles that Dr. Baer covers in regards to Real (or Unconditional) Love, but one that stuck out for me is closely related to what Jamie Catto talks about.  Dr. Baer writes that the first step to giving and receiving Real Love, is telling the truth about myself – particularly my mistakes and faults.  On his Web site he writes:

“…tell the truth about yourself to other people—especially about your mistakes, flaws, and fears—they can finally see you as you really are. They can accept you and give you unconditional love, as indicated [simply here]:  Truth -> Seen -> Accepted -> Loved”

I’d never thought about it before, but I have spent much of my life hiding my mistakes or telling little lies of omission so I would fit in.  Although I’d never really paid attention to the habit, I recognized it immediately.  So I started to play with really, really telling the truth even about the things I’d messed up or hidden.

One day, I dragged a stool across the floor out of busy-ness and laziness and it scratched the floor.  Instead of hiding the scratches or not saying anything, I just told my husband what happened.  Wonder of wonders, he didn’t flip out or cast me into the street for my carelessness.  When a dinner conversation moved to others’ annoying water-wasting practices like leaving the faucet on while washing dishes, I was quiet – since that is exactly what I do.  Later, I realized the lie of omission and I admitted it to my friends in an email.  (They cracked me up by very seriously writing back that they loved me anyway.)  In both cases, it felt like a little letting go, a little relief to have told the truth, however small.

While these examples may seem trivial, there is something powerful about really showing up and saying what is so.  I figure that, like anything, it’s best to start small.  I am emboldened by the big sense of liberation and transparency that these small revelations offered.  It feels as if I’d been sucking in my stomach in for a long time and then taking a deep breath and letting my tummy go.

The truth may well be more complicated than it seems.  There are things we say, things we believe that might not actually be true.  There are things we hide and pretend aren’t true so we appear to be different than we are.  The things we say and do, and the things we don’t say and don’t do.  Lining up behind what is really true for me is challenging, scary and deeply rewarding.

This week, I encourage you to take a look at how you line up with your truth.  Do you tell it to yourself?  Do you tell it to others?  What do you hide or pretend isn’t so?  Start small, and see how it feels.  The cliché may well be right:  telling the truth will set you free.

 

RADICAL SABBATICAL UPDATE:  August 31, 2012 marks the end of my Radical Sabbatical.  Next week, I’m taking some time away with my family to celebrate my parents’ 50th anniversary (!!).  The next post you read will be about the Nia routine I’m creating called Radical Sabbatical.  It will describe the music and the story of myy experience.  And if you really want to experience it, please come and dance it with me on Thursday, Aug 23 at 630pm at ACAC Albemarle Square (the debut!) and during the first two weeks of September on Mondays and Wednesdays at 1045am at Albemarle Square and Thursdays at 9am Downtown.  Thank you for hanging out with me during my time off!  It was stupendous.

 

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