Who’s up for getting down(ward facing dog)?

Join me Sept. 28 and Oct. 5 at 2 p.m. for 60 minutes of yoga. We’ll work through a series of poses that will work the core of your body–and that goes much deeper than the six-pack abs we so often hear about.

FAQ:
Where (and what) is Desert Island Supply Co.?
This nonprofit writing center is on the first floor of Woodrow Hall in Woodlawn. The address is 5500 First Ave. N., and you can find more info at desertislandsupplyco.com.

What do I wear?
As long as you can move comfortably, you’re set! I do recommend wearing a top that won’t flip upside down with you. A pair of comfortable shorts or pants and a fitted top would work well.

What do I bring?
Come armed with a yoga mat (I will NOT have any on hand) and water.

Why are you doing this?
I’m weeks from becoming a certified yoga teacher, and this is part of my homework. I figured I might as well share the love with my friends!

Will you be teaching again?
I imagine so! Sign up for my email list here: eepurl.com/3mtKr I don’t expect to send you more than one message per month.

More questions? Holler at me! cjATcarlajeanwhitleyDOTcom

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We all have something to offer

I’m in the process of becoming trained as a yoga teacher, and the nine-month-long training includes writing a number of papers. I’ll post them here because, well, that’s what I do. The sixth writing assignment was a reflection on the book “Teaching People, Not Poses: 12 Principles for Teaching Yoga with Integrity” by Jay Fields. This is my favorite book we’ve read in all of training.

When I’m uncomfortable or unconfident in a situation, I tend to quickly fall back on my rule-following habits. Rather than bringing personality or my opinions and experience to a situation, I’ll stick to the letter of the law. That’s a crutch that helps me through these circumstances, but it’s often not the most effective way to function.

That’s especially so when editing a piece of copy or teaching a class full of students. I’m in those situations because I’ve got expertise to share, and sticking to what I’ve been taught and nothing more means giving my writers and students less than my all. Jay Fields’ “Teaching People Not Poses: 12 Principles for Teaching Yoga with Integrity” is a wake-up call, a reminder that I’m not an automaton going through a series of pre-set motions.

Throughout this slim book, Fields reminded me that I have something to offer. That’s why my journalism students and magazine interns stay in touch with me for months or years after our professional relationships end. I’m confident that I’ve given them instruction and encouragement that will help them build careers. As I begin to add yoga to my teaching repertoire, I’ll best serve my students by remembering that they, too, will return to me because I have something to offer–and that “something” is more than a series of poses. If all they wanted was an effective workout, there are plenty of yoga videos and smartphone apps to guide a student through a satisfactory practice.

I know already that’s a reminder I’ll need to revisit as I become a yoga teacher. I’m prone to let my Type-A tendencies take over and forget that there’s more to learn than a set of pre-established rules. I expect to keep Fields’ book close at hand to help me find my voice as a yoga teacher.

All work and no play …

I’m in the process of becoming trained as a yoga teacher, and the nine-month-long training includes writing a number of papers. I’ll post them here because, well, that’s what I do. The fifth writing assignment was a reflection on the book “Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are” by Brene Brown.

Earlier today I read a blurb for a New York Times story that grabbed my attention: “One of the biggest complaints in modern society is being overscheduled, overcommitted and overextended. Ask people at a social gathering how they are and the stock answer is ‘super busy,’ ‘crazy busy’ or ‘insanely busy.’ Nobody is just ‘fine’ anymore.” Because I was in the middle of five or six other things, I bookmarked the article to read later.

I’m a goal-oriented, driven people pleaser, and as a result I tend to overcommit myself. Many times those commitments are to good things, things I’m excited to do. But those obligations often steal my joy. I’m more focused on completing the task than I am on enjoying the process.

So as I read Brene Brown’s words about cultivating both play and rest, I was reminded of how quick I am to skew priorities. Much as Brown and her family prioritize sleep, time together, meaningful work and time to piddle, I recognize that my life is much more satisfying when those things take precedence. But I also keep a goals sheet that I refer to frequently.

These things aren’t necessarily counterproductive; most of my goals are directly tied to satisfying work. There was a time when I walked away from my lifelong dream of becoming a professional writer. After two years of putting that goal aside, I realized how much less myself I felt. Pursuing that work is an important part of me. f I were to emulate the Brown family’s “ingredients for joy and meaning” list, that would be near the top.

The danger is when I allow the work to crowd out other, sometimes even more important, ingredients. I’ve realized that in recent years, and my 30s have so far been focused on striving for a more balanced life with more thoughtfully drawn boundaries. Simultaneously, I’m learning that imperfection is OK. Perfection is a myth, a standard that isn’t humanly possible. By allowing myself to let go of others’ expectations for what I should do or who I should be, I’m better able to take ownership of my goals, my time and my life.

This INFJ has a dirty little secret

I’m in the process of becoming trained as a yoga teacher, and the nine-month-long training includes writing a number of papers. I’ll post them here because, well, that’s what I do. The fourth writing assignment was a reflection on a month of practicing yoga at home. Our instructor asked us to practice three days a week for at least half an hour each time. We were to move on our own, without videos, books or apps to guide us.

Set an intention for your practice. Focus on the breath. Warm up the body. Sun salutations. Standing poses. Inversions and arm balances, if I feel like changing it up. Seated poses. Cool down. Savasana.

The rhythm of a yoga practice has become comforting, whether I’m in class or on my own. There’s plenty of room for creativity within this loose pattern, but even a loose structure helps me find my way as I stretch and move around my mat.

I would have guessed that transitioning from one pose to another could be challenging, but as I’ve spent more time in home practice I’ve realized that my body and mind both know what makes sense. I’ve spent enough time in yoga classes to have some idea of what flows. Likewise, as I’ve worked to establish a home practice without any outside guidance, I’ve discovered that half an hour isn’t much time to spend in yoga. I can barely get through a standing sequence before it’s time to start winding down.

The real discovery has come off the mat: I’m undisciplined.

When I shared this revelation, my roommate was skeptical. “You’re plenty disciplined,” she said. “Or maybe you’re just more disciplined than me.”

True, I’ve got a Type-A personality. I’m able to focus and accomplish a lot, and frequently I can do so in a short timeframe. That’s precisely why I didn’t recognize my lack of discipline before. I’m able to put on blinders to isolate myself from the rest of the world and peck away at a task until I’ve accomplished what I must.

But so much of this is based on what I want to do, what’s fun to me. Writing a book qualifies. Managing my budget does not. Sleeping until my alarm rings for the third time is decadent. Climbing out of bed and onto my yoga mat doesn’t sound so tempting, at least not before I’ve had my first cup of coffee.

It’s been hard to identify the rhythms of my life and where a regular home practice fits within them. So far, that has meant an erratic schedule but satisfying yoga; even if I spend 15 minutes in supta baddha konasana followed by 15 minutes with legs up the wall, I feel peaceful and challenged. And those lessons are following me into the rest of my life, as I begin taking steps toward building discipline, even while yoga brings me freedom.

Struggling with perfectionism

I’m in the process of becoming trained as a yoga teacher, and the nine-month-long training includes writing a number of papers. I’ll post them here because, well, that’s what I do. The third writing assignment was a reflection on chakras. This assignment was challenging for me because the concepts are so different from what I’m accustomed to. But I also enjoy learning about things outside of my norm, so I’m continuing to study this.

I often wrestle with my perfectionist tendencies. That shows up in the words I use to describe myself and my key traits. Am I Type A, anal retentive, obsessive? Or am I detail oriented, organized and methodical?

I’ve been faced with those labels (yet again) as I go through yoga teacher training. This week I’ve been trying to read “Eastern Body, Western Mind,” a 450-page book that explores the chakras, or energy centers, and psychology. I’m supposed to be concentrating on a chakra for a week, addressing it in some way three times daily.

This has been an especially busy season of life, and so I tried to take what seemed like the easy way out on this one. I have a ton of lavender-scented items around my house, so I would figure out which chakra lavender interacted with and start working on that. A friend shared a chart representing the correlation of different oils to different chakras, making my work much easier. Lavender correlates with the crown and third eye chakras? Great. I’ll pay attention to one of those.

So I did—or I tried to, at least. I slathered myself with lavender-citrus body lotion that first morning. I donned a purple shirt. (I’ll confess, I still wasn’t sure which chakra I was addressing, but I figured purple was a safe bet. I haven’t yet figured out the difference between indigo and violet, but those are the colors of these two chakras.) I smeared purple eye shadow in the creases of my eyelids, and I was off.

I know this sounds like a poorly executed plan. It was. I’ve felt pulled in many directions lately, and I’m struggling to keep up. A couple of busy weeks have meant that I’ve put off my reading and even let my yoga practice slip. After-work commitments and impending deadlines have gotten the best of me, and I’ve allowed them to do so.

On the first night, I came home from work early and changed into a pair of yoga pants. I had articles left to edit and plans yet to make, but I could at least be comfortable doing so. (I opted to keep on my purple shirt for whatever chakra-related energy it might provide.) I slipped back into the busy-ness.

Hours later, I realized I was hungry and past my usual dinner time. But I needed something more than dinner; I needed grounding. As an omelet slowly cooked on my stovetop, I returned to my mat. My practice wasn’t complicated or especially challenging. I used a Yoga Journal-suggested sequence I had programmed into my phone on the ride back from the beach earlier this week (even four-and-a-half hour car trips can be productive, right?). It was 13 minutes without adequate warm up, and I could feel throughout my body the tightness that comes from a sedentary, stressful life. But I was moving, and it felt good.

That movement also prompted a realization: I realized that the cerebral, ethereal energy centers of the crown and third-eye chakras aren’t where my focus needs to be concentrated—at least not in a way that would encourage further development. If anything, I could be overdeveloped in these areas. It’s not like me to shift course mid-journey. I like to make a plan and stick with it. But in this case, I needed to make a change.

Instead, I shifted my attention to my root chakra. Part of my craving for control is surely tied to a desire for security and order in all things. I’ve got that in some areas of my life, but in others I’m experiencing a lot of ambiguity. I’m seeking balance and a healthy relationship with that uncertainty as I continue to face my Type-A personality in all its glory and shame.

After all, that’s why I began practicing yoga.

But even though I know that focusing on being grounded is the right choice for me right now, those struggles have continued to show up. I’ve gone through the motions, donning essential oils, drinking ginger tea and focusing on mountain pose. The entire concept of chakras is so other, though, that I’m having trouble wrapping my head around how all of these pieces tie together. I’ve grown frustrated with myself because I just don’t get it.

Even so, I’ll continue to wrestle with these concepts. Just as yoga is about the journey, not the destination, I suspect that grasping related concepts is an ongoing process.

Resetting my perspective

I’m in the process of becoming trained as a yoga teacher, and the nine-month-long training includes writing a number of papers. I’ll post them here because, well, that’s what I do.

The first two were observations on yamas and niyamas. This is my niyama paper, which I wrote earlier this month.

“Everything is OK.”

Earlier this week, my yoga teacher began class with that statement. It was especially powerful because I knew she had reasons to feel otherwise. But that was exactly her point during that day’s practice: Happiness is fleeting, and often based on our circumstances. Santosha, or contentment, comes from a deeper place.

Most of the time, I operate from that mindset. I can’t say everything in my life is perfect, but overall, life is pretty darn good. I’m alive and well, and I’m surrounded by people who love me and whom I love. The rest are just details.

But I’m also clinically depressed, which can make me lose perspective perhaps even more easily than the average person. A minor problem can quickly cloud my vision, leaving me thinking that life as I know it is over.

I’ve seen that frequently in the process of writing my first book. There have been many moments when I wonder why this terrible thing is happening to me. How did I get myself into this? Will life ever be the same again?

When I take a deep breath and reset my perspective, I remember that this is exactly what I’ve always hoped for. I’ve wanted to write a book (or several dozen!) since I was in elementary school. Now I have that opportunity, with assurance that it will be published.

Taking a moment to slow down and reflect on reality, rather than my perspective-distorting insecurities, can remind me that everything is, in fact, OK. The worst that can happen is unlikely to become reality, and the truth is that I lead a pretty nice life. Contentment isn’t based so much on the circumstances, but age and life experience have increased my understanding.

 

Living without margins

I’m in the process of becoming trained as a yoga teacher, and the nine-month-long training includes writing a number of papers. I’ll post them here because, well, that’s what I do.

The first two were observations on yamas and niyamas. This is my yama paper, which I wrote earlier this month. 

Today’s to-do list may offer insight into my current relationship with boundaries. It starts by sitting down to write this paper, a task I’ve put off for several days because other projects took higher priority. Once my morning writing is complete, I’ll drive to WorkPlay for my weekly radio segment.

Then the work truly begins.

I know already I have a full day in the office, with two stories to complete, a number of others to edit and planning for the remainder of 2014. At some point, I’m hoping to sneak in an email to a key source for my book. Research on 40 years of music history has taken longer than I anticipated, so I’ve already received an extension for that project. Even so, I’m also holding myself to a 1,000-word-a-day writing goal. I’m saving all teaching-related duties for another day.

And I’ve still got social obligations, too; tonight is the Literacy Council’s Girlfriend Gala, one of my favorite benefits of the year.

It’s not that I’m any busier than anyone else; that seems to be the norm in our society. But I regularly add to those demands by piling on the projects. That’s especially true in my professional life. I often joke that one job isn’t enough.

However, the effects spill into every other area. Lately, I’ve struggled to wake up with my alarm—a battle I suspect has been made more difficult by staring at a screen for extra hours daily as I write a book. That’s made it difficult to find time to spend with my girl friends, and I often fall asleep while hanging out with my boyfriend.

These particular challenges exist for a season, and it’s one that will soon end. But my relationship to brahmacharya, or boundaries, will continue. I expect to see ebb and flow in how much I allow my calendar to rule my life, as I have in my years to date. But I hope to increase my margins, for my own sake and the sake of my relationships.

Remembering what matters most

When in doubt, I turn to Nora Ephron for inspiration.
When in doubt, I turn to Nora Ephron for inspiration.

Tonight I spent three hours working on my book. Tomorrow I’ll grade this finish grading my students’ papers and begin the last month of the semester. Thursday evening I’ll attend a party to benefit one of my favorite nonprofits. This weekend I’ll spend 20-plus hours in yoga teacher training. And sometime, someday soon, I’ll rest.

I’m fortunate to be at a point in life when I get to delve into so many passions in so many different ways. I love teaching, writing, editing, volunteering and mentoring.

I also know this season won’t last forever. As it is, I try not to commit to anything unless I’m passionate about it. In the past, that’s meant saying no to some very good things in order to devote my attention to the issues that are most important to me. Now, that also requires me to consider everything on my plate and whether it’s an activity I should dedicate time to for a season or indefinitely.

As I age, I also regularly reflect on my goals and priorities. I have a number of professional aims, and they’ve been adjusted through the years as I cross them off the list. (Yes, I keep an actual list. I doubt you’re surprised.) But my greatest priority isn’t my work, satisfying and necessary (girl’s gotta eat!) as it is. It’s more important to me to love well and devote my attention to those who I hold closest.

Perfect balance is an illusion, but I’m striving to dedicate the best of me to those people. That’s why I often disconnect from social media on the weekends and confine my freelance work to the week nights when possible. It’s also why I am beginning to, again, examine my commitments and determine which I may need to step away from.

I’m especially aware of that search for equilibrium when deadlines draw closer and my calendar fills with writing projects. Even when I have to settle for a carefully scheduled brunch or a short phone call between appointments, I must regularly remind myself that it’s the people, not the activities, that matter most.

Be kind. Seek peace.

Two years ago, Annie Damsky and I sat at a table in Magic Muffins talking about yoga. I was interviewing Annie about opening Birmingham’s only yoga studio to offer classes for the whole family, Villager Yoga. As we talked, I told her that I was trying to develop my own “yoga addiction.” I had been practicing on my own at home for about six weeks, and was beginning to regularly attend classes at The Yoga Circle.

One year ago, Melissa Scott and I were in Chattanooga for the weekend when she mentioned an interest in leading a teacher training. “I’ll be the first to sign up,” I said. I had already contemplated teacher training as a way to deepen my understanding, whether I were to eventually teach or not.

Tonight, teacher training begins.

I cannot adequately express how excited I am. As promised, I was (I think) the first student to register for training. Melissa has been an incredible teacher and friend for the past two years, and I am thrilled to learn from her and support her.

But perhaps more importantly, I’m excited to allow myself this experience. My to-do list is especially full right now, with a number of projects both at and outside of work. I feel as though I could work all weekend and not accomplish all I’d like. These are the moments when I especially need to slow down, take a deep breath and put the world back into perspective.

I’ll spend the rest of the weekend aiming to do just that, and will return to my mat for these intensive sessions eight more times between now and November. I can’t wait to see where this path leads.

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I am strong, I am invincible

I got hung up on the “Blog Like Crazy” challenge when I hit the prompt “Why Do You Love Being a Woman?” Javacia Harris Bowser, founder of See Jane Write and creator of this challenge, wrote, “That’s a simple question, but one that most likely has a complicated answer. So let’s write a blog post about it. Special thanks to Evette Dionne for this idea. Check out her post on a similar question: http://evettedionne.com/2012/11/15/appreciatewomanhood.”

A few weeks ago, my buddy Alex and I left the office for one of our regular trips to my favorite coffee shop when the differences between men and women came up in conversation. I don’t remember what prompted that, but Alex and I quickly agreed that men and women are different, are naturally inclined to be strong in different areas than one another (although there are certainly exceptions) and we think that’s OK.

In the year-plus that I’ve regularly practiced yoga, I’ve been amazed to discover my own strength. Men tend to be better built for physical strength, but I’ve built up my capacity through an awful lot of chatarungas, down dogs and crows. As I’ve done so, I’ve been reminded of my emotional and mental strength.

At the same time, I embrace many “traditional female roles.” I happen to enjoy cooking very much. My boyfriend rarely cooks. I love bringing food over to his house because I enjoy preparing it, and I enjoy sharing it. Though there was a time when I was cautioned against that, I’ve embraced being who I am, and cooking for others is part of that.

I love that being a woman doesn’t mean one specific thing or another. I love that I was born into a country where women have the right to vote. I love that I’m in a country where women have the same rights as men. I love that women are each unique. I love that I have the freedom to be me.