Kayaking Lessons

I stepped from the soft sandy shore into the deep blue kayak on a brisk sunny Sunday morning with the bottoms of my pants rolled up to my knees to prevent the wet and layers of fleecy long sleeved wear as insulation under the snug life jacket giving me a bear hug of reassurance.  As I lowered myself down, wiggled into my seat, prepped my oar, and braced my legs into the footholds, I took a few deep breaths.  My phone and insulin pump were tucked into plastic zipblock bags for protection, but I said a little prayer to my guardian angels that I wouldn't flip over in the water and put those plastic shields through the test of waterproof-ness.  With a quick shove from my teacher guide behind me, I found myself suddenly floating out into the water.

At first, the kayak felt a little shaky, like a toddler learning to use unsteady legs, as I tried to find center, realizing I was holding my breath.  In order to hold my kayak from wobbling to and fro, I braced my core and didn't dare look to the left, right, or behind me to watch the rest of the fleet of multi-colored kayaks enter the water.  But even with my eyes straight ahead as I delicately dipped each end of the paddle carefully into the water to propel me onward, I began to take in the beauty around me… the clear glass water with barely a ripple or wave… the quiet solitude of the air except for the simple splash sound of the paddle…. the blue sky with wisps of cotton ball clouds… the banks covered in towering trees who's leaves had a subtle hint of the change of color yet to come… and eventually, the backs of the other adventurers paddling ahead of me downstream.  

As the cool October breeze lightly kissed my cheeks and the sun sparkled down onto the magical twinkling water of the river, the beauty of the scenery over-road my sense of fear of being that low in the water.  My photographer artist self knew if I didn't take a photo and try to capture the moment right then, I wouldn't be able to relax until I did!  (A gal has to get a great instagram shot, right?!)  So with an inhale, I slowly let my paddle rest on the kayak, I gently and slowly reached into my zippered pocket of my fleece vest under my life jacket, and I pulled out my phone to snap some pictures.  After gingerly turning to get a shot of my mom, the river, and the sky, I slipped it back into the zipblock, then into my pocket, zipping it up for safe keeping.  Exhale!  I did it!  And with new vigor and confidence, I paddled forward with more relaxation, contentment, and an ease to enjoy the present moment.  

Over the course of the river journey, being in the kayak got me thinking about the metaphor to life.  When setting out to try or start something new, there's some fear.  There's some shakiness.  Some unsteady sensations.  In my case, in moving back to my roots after a few years of being away, there's a little apprehension.  A little bit unsure if a gal is going to find her tribe again.  Some fear of getting started in a new place.

But just like learning to walk with putting one foot in front of the other… putting one side of the paddle into the water… and then the other… one day at a time... you find yourself moving forward.  Sometimes you splash some cold water on your legs.  Sometimes you start to veer off course to one side and have to correct your direction.  Sometimes you bump into another boat (which ends up helping you push off it for some momentum).  And sometimes you have to stop paddling because you need to rest your arms.  And that's when you can practice FLOATING.  Letting the river herself carry you for awhile until you're ready to pick up where you left off.  

Just make sure to remind yourself to breathe. #onward!

Point to ponder: When was a time that you were afraid to do something but did it anyway?  How did you feel before, during, and after?  How did you handle the situation and what did you learn from the experience?  

Reflections on the Table

One of the most beautiful things I've seen in this world has been when I get to witness a person on the massage table during a healing session. Whether their head is in my reiki-ing hands, I'm feeling and clearing their chakra energy with esoteric healing, or I’m holding space for the emotions to move through their body with breathwork (or a combo of all three), it always has me bowing down in awe to the beauty of the human body and spirit. Recently, I had the opportunity to be on the other side, to be in the other role, as my body was calling out to get some reiki from one of my healer friends. I was the one to climb up on the table to receive this time. And I was surprised by how hard it was! 

Healing treatment room at Maha Rose Center for Healing in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.

If you've ever experienced a session before, you know what it feels like to be vulnerable and laid bare so to speak in another’s hands. It takes courage, bravery, and trust. It takes a willingness to let the walls down, take off the mask, and be seen exactly as we are in that moment. I know for me this can be hard when the rest of the time I'm running around trying to look like I've got all my shit together. Trying to seem strong and in control of what life is delivering to me.  At the beginning of the session that day, I found myself bracing my muscles as if to try to hold my own self up, rather than letting my weight sink into the massage table and be supported.  It took a conscious effort for me to relax each muscle, to take deep breaths, and to just.... BE.  To receive.  

 And what I realized as I climbed onto that table: there is a quiet kind of strength needed in order to soften and open and receive, whether it be as simple as accepting a compliment or gesture of kindness. Whether it's a physical gift or an offer for help and assistance. Whether it's a healing session, bodywork, coaching, or intuitive guidance. It takes an inner strength to allow ourselves to be on the other end of "the giving".

And I had to ask myself, why then do we do it??  Why do *I* in particular have a business that asks people to receive when it's also a challenge for us to do sometimes?   It took me some time to contemplate this question.

And my reflection: because the body loves it. The body CRAVES it. Receiving brings balance to the yin and yang. The masculine and feminine. It creates reciprocity.  Flow.  Think the infinity symbol: what flows out also flows back to us.  When we finally stop fighting or resisting and sink into the glory of receiving, it feels SO GOOD. In a healing session, the nervous system relaxes and the body has a chance to restore and heal. Accepting the compliment expands our joy and appreciation for ourselves. Getting help from a friend leaves us feeling supported, connected, loved. And then the effects of that acupuncture, birthday gift, hand written note in the mail, random bouquet of flowers, ripples out in ways we probably don't even see!

And so glorious receivers, I am awed by you.  Inspired by you.  Encouraged by you.  I raise a toast to us all: may we continue to allow ourselves to receive with strength, courage, and vulnerability.

Point to Ponder: in what ways can you soften to receiving?  What are some of your favorite ways to receive?

Moon Lessons

A few months ago, I adopted my brother’s dog, Moon.  I never expected to be mommy to a doggie especially at this point in my life, as I always thought I was a cat person, but Moon has been a surprise and joy to my life.  He is teaching me many lessons about being present, trusting love, and play.

The latter one is what I’d like to explore today.  When I was researching his breed (we think he is part Catahoula, among other things), all the sources agreed that this breed needs AT LEAST an hour of VIGOROUS exercise everyday.  Wowza.  Living in a tiny New York/Brooklyn apartment, this is a tough one to accomplish.  Luckily, there is a dog run in a park about 15-20 minutes walk away. 

And what I’ve found going to the dog park almost everyday is that part of this vigorous exercise for Moon has to be social playtime.  He LOVES to play.  And even though he looks like a scary big dog, he plays well with almost EVERYONE!  Tiny dogs, big dogs, medium dogs….dogs who like to chase, dogs who like to wrestle, dogs who like to play tug-of-war with sticks.  He even does the rounds and give licks to the humans.  When he’s had his fill, his tongue is hanging out, tail wagging, and with a look that could be seen as a grin on his cute face. 

This is Moon's "stop working and play with me" look.  How can you resist such a cute face??

This got me thinking about us humans.  What if we were to schedule play into our lives like I schedule it in for Moon?  What if we were to get AN HOUR (or more) of play EVERY DAMN DAY?? 

And what is PLAY?  What would that look?  Do we hard working adults in a workaholic culture even know what play is anymore??  I keep saying I need more play in my life, but haven’t really implemented it yet, cause I’m not actually sure what “play” means to me now.  When I was younger it was arts and crafts, playing make believe, dressing up, running around outside with the neighbors.  Then eventually in high school and college, there was always something to read or homework to be done, but theatre became my playtime.  Entering the “real world” and starting a business, there’s ALWAYS some work to be done at every moment.  But as Moon has taught me, play is essential.  And that’s a piece that has been missing, so it’s time to schedule that in too.  Julia Cameron of the book The Artist’s Way suggests taking your inner child out on “artist dates” once a week.  This might be a great place to start!  Looking back to what we did as kids is also a great place for inspiration.  Is it digging in the dirt?  Is it reading fiction?  Going to a movie?  Playing with toys?  Creating something with your hands?  Going dancing or singing songs?  Nature walks or museum visits?  I don't know about you, but I think I'm going to use this last month of summer to really embrace my playful nature!

I’d love to hear from you: what is play for you?  What do you do for fun and how might you add more of it in your schedule?

Shake Shimmy Swivel Swirl

She tossed her luxurious gorgeous thick black hair as she gracefully danced across the stage to Beyoncé in heels that made my ankles wince. Her body, adorned in glitter and a tight sparkly gold outfit, was beautifully muscular and petite. And yet her energy, heart, and passion expanded outward to fill the entire room with electricity that drew the audience to the edge of their seats as she slowly seduced us with teasing bits of clothing off. A zipper to reveal flesh here, a toss of a glove there. Despite it being my second burlesque show, I hoped no one noticed that I was blushing as I showed my support for my friend Sweetpea with cheers, hoots, and applause as I watched this woman bravely and flawlessly bare herself under the glow of stage lights to a packed room of people. Thoroughly enthralled and entertained and awed, I shocked even myself by quietly whispering after she strut off the stage: I want to do that someday.

Flash forward about five years, several layers of masked self removed, and a different city later, I found myself this past Saturday swiveling my hips in the mirror in a class I had curated for women, led by a wild woman friend leading us through buti yoga. I was intrigued by how uncomfortable and foreign the circular motion was to different parts of my body at first... how I don't usually move this way. As we isolated hips then chest, circling right and then left, I found one side harder, tighter, more restricted then the other. And as I started to get the hang of it, I realized MY BODY LOVED IT! My body was CRAVING circles! Which got me thinking about my range of movement on the regular day to day. We walk forwards. Sometimes backwards. We sit. We stand. I squat and lunge. Sometimes I downward dog and forward fold. Very straight, linear movement that sort of forgets that I have more than just one thick trunk as a core. I have hips, a waist, a busty chest. And they can shake, shimmy, swivel, and swirl.
 

And being encouraged to watch my beautiful body in the mirror as I moved, I was reminded of my burlesque dancing dreams from 5ish years ago. And I had fun dreaming up what my costume, music, and routine would look like (DEFINITELY fake eyelashes and lots of glitter!). For me, more than anything else, to stand on a stage and remove my clothing will be the ultimate act of self love. Of allowing myself to be seen. I'm not quite ready to make this happen yet and in the meantime I think I'm going to make moving my body in circles a regular practice, along with all the squats, lunges, two steps forward, one step back (cha cha cha!). And when I have my first performance booked, ya'll will be the first to know!

Point to ponder: what kind of movement is your body craving? Is it the same or different from what you are giving it now? How could you incorporate new moves into your daily groove? And what is a dream you have that is terrifying and thrilling?!

NYC babes: 4 more chances to join in the movement fun with Divine Rising on Saturday mornings!  This coming Saturday, we'll be exploring our body as our temple with subtle moves to increase awareness of our internal world.  More info here!