The Flowing Breath

It was my senior year in college when I really started doing yoga on my own. It was not until my first year in law school when I started going to classes, and it sort of became my life, but my senior year in college was the beginning of that path. I would practice in my living room with little more than a book to guide me (looking back, perhaps not the safest choice, but here we are).

Breathe is the most common label on this blog. And I have previously told the story of how I remember learning to breathe my senior year in college and how I then found my breath again in the mountains of Yellowstone. Nature has a way of bringing us back to our internal awareness and breath. Trees provide us with oxygen, and the Earth grounds us and heals us.

But we have the breath wherever we are, wherever we go, and in whatever we are doing. The breath can, therefore, heal from anywhere as long as we know how to find it.

Just knowing the breath is there does not mean we all know how to use it properly. In fact, I would think most of us do not. There is more to the breath than just trying to get as much air in as possible. I think I have finally realized this. When we try to take a deep breath with effort, we are actually fighting the breath rather than receiving the breath. And that is how so many of us try to breath, even when we think we are relaxing into the breath. We do not flow with the breath. We fight it.

The modern world does not make relaxing into the flow of the breath easy to do. Doctors and anyone else who studies anatomy (yoga teachers often included) know how the breath enters through the nose or mouth, travels down the windpipe, and goes into the lungs. The muscles of the diaphragm expand and contract the lungs for the breath. But that does not tell us how we can receive the breath. It tells us what muscles are used and where the breath goes.

Many people are stuck in fight or flight mode. Lawyers are particularly adept at this. We live in an adversarial world. When we spend our working hours thinking in an adversarial manner, it is difficult not to be adversarial with ourselves, even with our breath. We tense up our driving and computer muscles, furrow our brows, and forget what it means to be soft. And so we fight with the breath.

As you are reading this, notice if you are simply allowing the breath or if you think the breath needs to come differently. Even as I write it, I can feel the tension building at times. And when the breath becomes stilted and tense it stops being an avenue for healing and becomes an avenue to strengthen our patterns. We often talk about samskaras as mental patterns, and ways of being. But they work on our body similarly. We all have our own ways of walking and moving. Think about how you can tell someone walked in the room long before you see their face simply by how they move. When we hold our tension through our breath, we ingrain those patterns even more rather than relaxing into the healing power the breath can bring.

The breath can heal nearly anything. The stories of miracles I have read this year are long, and while there is a logical part of me that doubts it can happen to anyone, the yogi in me knows otherwise. I know the breath is capable of producing miracles. But we have to let the breath guide us instead of trying to guide the breath.

I just started reading a new book called, Awakening Somatic Intelligence: The Art and Practice of Embodied Mindfulness, by Risa Kaparo. I have read a lot about movement, somatics, and breathing, but this book puts it all together in a way I have never seen before. But the most important aspect it teaches is that we have to get our beliefs out of the way. We cannot understand the breath through our eyes or even our anatomical understanding. The only way we can understand the breath is by letting it teach us.

When I sit in a courtroom, I can feel all my tension patterns and can see everyone around me fall into theirs as well. Everyone’s breath tightens as we await whatever is going to happen. We rob ourselves of our own health in those moments.

What would happen if while sitting in incredibly stressful situations, we just listened to our breath? What would happen if we just allowed the breath to come? No force. No pain. No tension. Just allow it to come. That is how the breath flows. That is where healing can happen. But we have to get out of our own way.

It is amazing to think that almost 10 years after learning to breathe my senior year in college I still feel like just a beginner.

How about you? Where do you notice your breath?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2014, all rights reserved.

The post, The FlowingBreath, first appeared on Is YogaLegal.

The Nervous System Gone Awry

Almost ten years ago, I taught English in a small town in France about 40 minutes from Paris. It was an interesting and difficult experience on so many levels, and it would have been a great time to have had my yoga tools, but alas, that is a story for another day. But right now I’m remembering a scene in the teacher lunch room. I eat fast, but one day, I watched one of the teachers literally inhale his yogurt. Looking back, it sort of reminds me of how my dogs eat – they sort of forget to chew.

My grandfather was the polar opposite of that French teacher. When we were children (and I will admit, even a bit when I was in college and would visit my grandfather), my brother and I would make a joke of my grandfather’s eating habits and count the number of times he would chew his food. One time he got up to 27 chews . . . for a piece of lettuce!

Looking back on these situations, I see two very different nervous systems. The French teacher was jittery in general. His manner of eating was simply one manifestation of his underlying hyper quality. My grandfather, on the other hand, was an accountant. Now, I adore accountants, but they are definitely not known for their high-strung jittery qualities. Instead, they are methodical and calm and precise. And my grandfather’s ability to chew was just a manifestation of those qualities. (And in case anyone is keeping score, I’m writing this while scarfing down my breakfast faster than I should.)

But this post is not about eating, though I do think about that a lot. This post is about our nervous systems. I had some fillings done on two of my molars yesterday, and I was in pretty excruciating pain for several hours after it was done. And I just kept thinking that my nervous system is so strung out. Being in pain for over a year does that. But as someone said to me earlier this week, that pattern has been in me for years. One could even argue it was there as a child while I was getting annoyed with my grandfather for eating so darn slowly. Sometimes he would even have to microwave his food in the middle of the meal because it got cold.

 Yes, our nervous systems manifest in various ways. I have written before about people who bounce their feet constantly. But there are hundreds of manifestations of our internal energies. Have you ever met someone you knew was just totally wound up? Have you ever met someone who just seemed relax regardless of the external circumstances? That is the nervous system at work.

And most people I know are living with their nervous systems in high gear. It is why dis-ease is rampant, pain is everywhere, and somehow it is October when it feels as though the year started last week. Most of us are all running on nervous system fumes. This is, in many ways, a different way of looking at the fight or flight response. We are living on high alert. But the nervous system is what then starts to fire differently, and it changes how we see the world.

The nervous system is our connection to the rest of the world and to ourselves. It is how we feel. If we had no sciatic nerve, for example, we would be unable to walk. It is not just our muscles and bones that hold us up, but our ability to feel our feet that allow us to stand. Serious trauma to the nervous system can paralyze us. And our nervous system allows us to connect to others as well. Neurons are the transmitters that help our brain understand what is happening in the world around us. We need our nervous system to function at its peak, or else we stop being able to function at all.

When we are being chased by a wild animal, we need our nervous system to be on high alert. We need to have a single-track mind to protect ourselves from the imminent danger. But we do not need that singular focus the rest of our lives. In fact, it can get in the way of our relationships and our ability to live a full life.

When we are in a calmer state, we notice the world around us. We notice the people around us. We are able to give more of ourselves to our work and our lives. It is the biggest paradox of our culture that we think by working more we can get more done. But deep within our core, most of us know that it is really when we take regular breaks to recharge that our ability to work strengthens. Modern science is finally making these connections as well. I’m still trying to implement naptime at work, but I’m having difficulty.

Unfortunately, without regular breaks, without taking time to breathe, or sometimes as a result of dis-ease, the nervous system goes awry. It takes over and goes into overdrive, and getting it out of that state feels impossible. Doctors give us medication that is supposed to stop that overdrive, but instead of actually calming the nervous system, those medications simply block our response to it. Sometimes that is the boost we need to calm down ourselves, but sometimes it just makes it more difficult.

The good news is that the body/mind/soul do not want to rest in hyperactivity, so getting back to calmness is actually their natural state. We just have to get out of our own ways enough to make that happen. And that can take years of training. Or it can take a few minutes of breathing every day. There are so many tools to calm ourselves: Walking in nature, deep breathing (most accessible and easiest but somehow one of the more difficult to do), being with good friends, going to a calming yoga class (this means no Bikram when the goal is to calm the nervous system), meditating, massage, energy work, acupuncture, etc.

But those are all “just” tools. They are absolutely amazing tools, and all of them will help us get on the path to calming the nervous system. They are not, however, panaceas. In order to fully calm our nervous systems, we have to want them to be calm. We have to step out of the mindset of the modern world and recognize that we need not be nervous wrecks in order to function. We do not have to go 100% all the time. We are allowed to stop and take a walk in nature. Until we allow that one thought, nothing is going to change long term.

Have you noticed your nervous system has gone awry? Are you willing to allow yourself to calm? What are your tools?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2013, all rights reserved.

The post, The Nervous System Gone Awry, first appeared on Is Yoga Legal.

Easier Said Than Done

I have not posted in weeks. It has been years since I have gone this long without posting. But really, I did not know what to say. Back surgery recovery is going much slower than expected, and this is a blog about how yoga can help in life. But some days, that is easier said than done.

Breathing has been hard these past few weeks. Taking a deep breath actually hurts at times, and the fear that it will hurt stops me at other times. And yet breathing is exactly what calms the nerves, the very things causing the pain in the first place. And sometimes the fear just takes over, and the breath falls away.  

But there are moments when it comes back. There are moments when I talk to others I know in the legal community. In fact, over the past week, I have run into two people I know through yoga, and just their “coincidental” presence in my life has been soothing.

Healing takes time. While in some ways I am a very patient person, these past few months have shown anything but my patient side. Even when driving, or perhaps especially when driving, I find myself getting upset at the other drivers on the road and even yelling out loud at them. The daily stresses of life take over, and the calm, centered awareness of breath falls away.

Sometimes, it is simply easier said than done.

But the doing is absolutely vital. Taking that breath, and tuning in to what is underlying the stress and the anxiety is the most vital thing we can do to heal and move beyond our daily stress. It is very easy for people to say, “Just breathe.” I have been known to say it myself on occasion. But that simple statement presumes that taking a breath is going to be easy. It presumes that our stress does not feel stronger than the ability to breathe.

But sometimes the pain and the stress feel more powerful. Sometimes they take us to points we had no idea we could go. That does not mean that a breath is a bad idea. It just may mean it is the scariest thing we can do at the moment.

These past few weeks especially I have noticed how tight my belly muscles are, and not in the six-pack sort of way. Instead it is in the “I cannot take a deep belly breath” sort of way. Breathing too deeply into the lower belly, where every yoga teacher I have ever had says to focus the breath, is exactly across from the incision in my back. That is a very physical manifestation of the fear that sometimes arises when taking a deep breath. Going into the places our breath can take us can be scary. And that is why it is sometimes easier said than done to take our deepest breaths.

So what do we do in those moments? I do not know anyone that has never had them. I think the lesson I have had to learn the most is that it is actually okay to be in that space. It is okay to be afraid to take a breath sometimes.

My yoga practice both made that awareness difficult and possible. As a yoga teacher, I have this vision of myself that I should always be able to take a deep breath and relax. And as a yoga teacher, I know that it is important to accept ourselves exactly as we are in the moment. Only one of those is “right” in the sense that it comports with the truth of the universe. It is, of course, the latter of the two statements. But there is always the nagging former statement – the one where we try to live up to expectations that simply do not comport with reality.

As I sit here writing this I am actually breathing better than I have on my own in weeks. There is still hesitation as the breath moves into the back body. I would be lying if I said I am totally okay with it, but it is true that I am aware of it and learning to accept it. I am also learning to understand it.

Sometimes taking a breath is the most difficult thing we can do. But then you realize that accepting that fact is even more difficult. It is with the acceptance, however, that the breath becomes possible once again.

What do you do when the breath does not come? What arises for you when you struggle with the breath?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2013, all rights reserved.

The Paralysis of the Breath

This blog has focused a lot on the breath. It sounds so easy to say – Just Breathe! The breath is always there, it is always available to us, it is always a guide for how we are doing and feeling. And sometimes the breath gets stuck. Have you ever been in a situation where you are a bit tense and then realize you have not actually breathed in several seconds even when you think you are trying to relax? Have you ever tried to take a deep breath only to feel as though every muscle in your body is fighting against it?

 Yoga leads us to deeper and calmer breathing in several ways. There is pranayama, which is specifically different breath control techniques. During asana practice, breathing helps us release more fully into any posture. In meditation, our breath keeps us focused. Breath is, therefore, the center of yoga, and it permeates all we do.

Being a lawyer provides ample opportunities for us to hold our breath with anxiety. Whether a deadline is fast approaching or a judge is telling you to get to the point, lawyering is a stressful profession. But it is more than stress that leads us away from the breath. Stress can be managed and understood, and generally we can find the breath with the right training even in very stressful situations.

Stress always has an underlying cause. Sometimes we just have too much on our plate, but why does that lead to stress? Recently, I have recognized that much of our stress comes from fear. Are we afraid we will not finish everything? Are we afraid we will not do a good enough job? Are we afraid we will not give enough time to our families if we focus on our work and vice versa? And it is when the fear becomes overbearing that we lose our breath. Fear can become debilitating.

I have heard fear and excitement as the same emotion with a different intention. We describe them somewhat similarly – butterflies in the stomach, shortness of breath, slight agitation, etc. And they arise in similar circumstances. What gives one person fear – public speaking – very much excites someone else. Similarly, excitement can be called eustress, which is defined as healthy or good stress. I do not particularly like the idea of good vs. bad stress, but it gets the point across. Sometimes, we need stress to get us excited enough to help us do great in a particular situation.

But sometimes that stress/fear overtakes us and completely paralyzes us. And it becomes obvious when even with conscious awareness the breath cannot slow and calm. It is a cycle that is difficult to break. As a yoga teacher, I want to believe that taking a deep breath relieves all situations and brings us back to our center. But as a modern human being, I know that is easier said than done. Deep down I still know and believe that coming back to the breath is the single greatest healing technique every one of us has. But using that technique is, at times, nearly impossible.

And what do we do in those moments? In those moments, it is important to recognize that we are not lesser beings because the breath is difficult. It is but another lesson. It is a window into helping us more fully understand that which causes us our greatest fears. Easy? Absolutely not! But those moments are also some of our most honest. Those are the moments when we recognize that it is okay to be afraid, it is okay to be human.

Of course we do not want the breath to stay paralyzed forever. But if we get caught up in being worried that it has momentarily stopped and that we should know better, we can get caught up in a worry that we are somehow less than. Less than what? Less than whatever your biggest fear is. Sometimes the breath being stopped by fear is a wake-up call to what is calling out to us. It is a wake-up call that something needs our attention. And when we provide that attention, the breath slowly (and sometimes quickly) returns to its prior glory.

 Our breath truly is our greatest teacher. It tells us where we are, and when we can concentrate and bring awareness to it, we are able to slowly begin to learn the lessons it has to teach. Have you had moments where your breath felt paralyzed? What do you do in those moments?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2012, all rights reserved.

Finding our Light

I have been a bit quiet recently, but there is a reason. And I have to say, Chanukah could not have come at a better time for me. These past few weeks have been intensely painful for me, and I have not been sure how to write about them. My hip pain became debilitating sciatica essentially overnight. A trip to Urgent Care, a failed MRI, medication, yoga, breathing, stretching, relaxing, chiropractic care, acupuncture, and massage all ensued. The pain just got worse.

And all I keep thinking is, “I’m a yoga teacher!!! How am I in this much pain?!”

But then this beautiful and deeply personal post arrived from Roseanne at It’s All Yoga Baby. In it she describes her own recent depression and writes:

Underneath it all, however, is a vague sense that I’m failing at my practice, that I’m as broken and f[‘]d up as I was before I committed to yoga (chronic and clinical depression was what drove me to practice in the first place), that the practice isn’t working. There’s also the vague sense that I’m not allowed to be feeling this way – there are many stories of miraculous healing from depression (and everything else) through yoga, but nobody talks about the relapses. I feel like I’m doing something wrong.

While my issue has been more physical (though I fully believe physical pain can and does stem from emotional pain), I fully understand her sentiment here. I have been feeling embarrassed about the pain on several fronts, but mostly because I’m 30 years old, and I’m a yoga teacher. How can I be in such debilitating pain, especially from what appears to be really, really tight muscles.

It is extremely easy to get caught up in the pain and ignore the lessons. I would say I sort of have been living in that space. But there are brief reprises, brief moments where I can take the time and not only cognitively, but energetically and emotionally, see the gifts and lessons the pain has to offer. And the Festival of Lights has helped me see that.

First, as discussed before, our darkest places bring us closer to compassion and connection with others. I never fully understood how debilitating physical pain can be until the past two weeks. As a yoga teacher and a lawyer, I deal with people suffering from all varieties of pain. Having had an experience to relate to that pain changes not only how I interact with the person, but how they respond to what I say. It is very easy to stand on the outside, look at someone, and give them all sorts of ideas of how to make their lives “better.” It is quite different to look at them and say, “I feel what you are experiencing. I experienced something similar myself, and you are right. It is debilitating.”

This pain has taught me a different level of compassion as well. I often get upset with people who turn everything into a story about themselves and their own experiences. But these past two weeks, it has been comforting to hear from people who understand how painful sciatica is. I get a bit overwhelmed with everyone offering different advice, but the sympathy and understanding has been greatly beneficial. As a result, I have learned the importance of connecting with others through our own stories. We can offer our stories less as a way to say, “Look at me and my suffering” and more of a way to say, “I understand, and I know you can get better.”

And of course, this pain has been the universe’s way of telling me to slow down. That is a lesson I am not heeding so well. But I have learned where I feel comfortable letting go and where I still need to work. I have said it before, and I believe it even more today, meditation and yoga are “easy” at an ashram. I put easy in quotes because they are never actually easy, but they fit a structure and their lessons come more quickly. But try meditating in Times Square. Try meditating when the pain is searing through your leg. Try just breathing when you feel like all hope is lost.

And amazingly, in those moments, sometimes the breath does come. And for a brief glimpse of relief, the breath softens whatever is currently hardening us. It may be one breath in a hundred, but that one breath can be what keeps us going. And that has been the greatest lesson so far. Even when I feel as divorced from my practice as ever, something (or someone) always manages to bring me back.

It may feel like it needs a miracle similar to the miracle of Chanukah, but the holiday can help remind us that we all have that light within, and even when it feels impossible to reach, we can turn to it, and it can offer us a little hope that things can get better.

What lessons have you learned from stress, pain, depression, etc.? Are you able to find those brief glimpses of coming back to yourself? What helps?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2012, all rights reserved.

There is Always the Breath

Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor. ~Thích Nhất Hạnh

I am truly blessed to have some amazing teachers in my life. Recently I got a really great reminder from two of my recent yoga teachers.  The first came from a teacher who I had not seen in awhile. I have not been attending her class much because of the pain in my hip. But something told me last week I had to go to her class. Although there were moments the class hurt, she came up to me at the end of class and said, “You might need to curl up in a ball and just breathe. You always have the breath.”

What a wonderful reminder.

And the reminder came again the next day from another of my amazing teachers. It was obviously a week where my hip was bothering me more than others, and she came up to me in savasana and simply said, “Breathe into the areas that do not hurt.” This breath is a beautiful way to move through our pain, be it physical, emotional, spiritual, or any other kind. The breath is always there for us.

The breath is the gateway to our prana, our life force. In Chinese medicine it is called qi (pronounced chee). Breathing techniques are called pranayama because they move the breath in different ways. When we control the breath, we can control ourselves. As the quote above states, we can anchor ourselves through our breath. No matter what comes our way, we always have the breath.

I know that when we go into fight-or-flight, our breath shortens and speeds up. What I do not know is why it does that. I understand the evolutionary need to tense our muscles and be ready to attack or run for our lives, but is that not exactly when we need our breath to be most full?

Although we know we can always return to the breath, actually doing it is sometimes more difficult than we would like to admit. Our natural response is to turn away from the breath, to move strictly into survival mode. And yes, that is exactly when we need to focus on the breath the most. That is most when we need it to anchor us, not just in ourselves but in our external world as well.

But how do we ensure we can do that when we get so overwhelmed? Just like anything in life, practice, practice, practice. This is one of the major advantages of an asana (posture) practice. When the going gets tough, we always can come back to the breath. In an asana-based yoga class, hopefully there is a teacher reminding us over and over again to come back to the breath. When it is obvious pain remains, hopefully someone reaches out and reminds us the breath is there to tap into what feels good.

And we can practice pranayama, or breath control. The more attention we give to the breath, the more likely we are to remember it is there when we need it most. This post is not the time to go into all the different types of pranayama, but the Pranayama label (on the right) will grow with posts about various forms of pranayama and what they can be used to create in our lives. Each form of pranayama, however, brings our awareness to the breath and helps us remember to bring our awareness there more quickly when we need it most.

And finally, being as it is November, we can remember to always be grateful for the breath. Each morning when we awake, and each night before we sleep, take a moment and be grateful for the ability to breathe. Without trying to control the breath, or understand it, or even really notice it, just be grateful for it. Take a moment and be grateful for this foundation of life.

It is not always easy to remember to breathe in our moments of deepest frustration, stress, and anxiety, but the more we consciously become aware of the breath, learn to control the breath, and are grateful simply because it is there, the greater our ability becomes to stop and breathe in those moments we need it most.

What are your tricks for remembering to come back to the breath?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2012, all rights reserved.

Learning to Breathe . . . Again

On my 30^th birthday, I posted that after being lucky enough to focus on myself for the past decade, or so, it was time to focus on others. My new job (new back then), put me into that world full force. For the past 7.5 months, I have been representing children removed from their parents by child protective services. Intense is only the beginning. But it also means I get to serve children and families.

But focusing only on giving means the yoga bucket gets drained . . . and fast. I was lucky enough to be able to take a wee vacation. For a glorious week I was back among the mountains, and they looked substantially similar to the Remarkables in Queenstown, New Zealand. My four days in Queenstown were some of the most profound and moving of my time in New Zealand. If it is not abundantly obvious from previous posts, I love mountains. I also love trees. My trip to Yellowstone and the Grand Teton National Park was full of both.

The Grand Tetons

But it also brought me back to another aspect of yoga – the breath. Long before I started writing Is Yoga Legal, I had written another blog through Xanga (remember that company?). It was nothing special, and I believe I only shared it with my friends and only had about 6 posts total (whereas this is post 180 on this blog!). I cannot even find the posts I wrote for Xanga. But I remember one of them, and only one of them. Not surprisingly, it focused on the breath. I remember laying down one day and feeling as though I had finally learned to breathe. Those were my early days of yoga practice, about a decade ago. And it was a profound moment. It was the moment I realized how powerful such a simple movement can be. It was the moment I realized the healing potential of the breath.

The label, “breathe” is the most cited label on this blog. Breath is the foundation of all yoga. It brings us to awareness and helps us gauge how we feel and how we are currently functioning. It is a bit ironic, therefore, that my breath has shortened and become more shallow these past few months. I have noticed it even when actively practicing yoga, either at home or in a class.

But I took some time to get away. Interestingly, I went somewhere with a lot less oxygen than Tucson. The highest point you can drive in Yellowstone is 8,859 feet (2,700 metres). Our hotel was at over 8,000 feet (2,440 metres). I have never done well at high elevations, and the headache hit me pretty hard. In addition, I could feel my breath shortening as we went higher up.

But that was probably the best thing to happen. I had to pay attention to my breath. I had to pay attention because I needed all the oxygen I could get.

Paying attention was like relearning all over again. It seems almost silly to talk about learning to breathe. After all, our first action on this Earth is to inhale, and our last action is to exhale. The breath is usually completely unconscious. Our breath will happen whether we will it to or not. We can live days without water and weeks without food, but only a few minutes without the breath.

And yet, we can learn to harness the breath to our benefit. We can learn to make the breath work for us. We can learn to notice when we are holding the breath. We can learn to take deeper breaths. We can learn to use our diaphragm to breath and not our shoulders. In short, we can learn to breathe effectively.

Learning to breathe was the first indication I was on a yogic path. I remember the moment as though it were yesterday, which is surprising because, as I have mentioned before, I do not remember a lot. But learning and practicing are different things. Some days the breath comes easily, and other days it can be a struggle. Removing the oxygen from the air by going up mountains forces us to slow down and pay attention in order to ensure we get the oxygen we need. It forces us to relearn to breathe.

It was also a reminder that no matter how shallow the breath gets, we can always refocus and relearn to breathe whether the shallowness is from a lack of oxygen or a stressful day. We do not need to wait until it becomes painful to breathe to learn this lesson. Instead, we can take it with us every single day.

Have you taken the time to learn to breathe? What has been your greatest teacher?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2012, all rights reserved.

It Sounds So Easy . . . Just Relax!

One of the many benefits people ascribe to yoga is relaxation. Even people who consider yoga physical exercise (and it can be) recognize that hopefully all yoga classes end with savasana, corpse pose. Many classes also begin with breath or with slower, meditative asana. It is a reminder to begin by going inward. Some classes, particularly restorative and yin classes, are particularly devoted to relaxation.


One of the most common statements I hear from people who go to yoga is, "I just feel so relaxed." Unfortunately, other common statements I hear from many people is, "I just don't know how to relax" or "I can never seem to relax no matter how hard I try."

One of the toughest asana lessons to fully comprehend, on the deepest levels, is that it is possible to relax in a posture even when it feels like every muscle is going to give out. That is another yoga paradox. It is a nice lesson for off the mat as well. We learn to find the calm amidst the storm. Thus, from deep breathing and restorative poses to intense and energetic asana, yoga is about finding the relaxation deep within us. And it is there for all of us. The difficulty is finding it.

How many times have you tried to relax and simply could not? Right now, do a quick body scan. Where are you holding tension? Your jaw? Your eyes? Your neck? Your shoulders? Are you able to relax those areas holding the tension?

Our modern world does not provide us the tools to learn how to relax. It does, however, provide us the tools to know how to be stressed out. We are expected to go, go, go, and when we finally stop, we are too exhausted to relax. We simply collapse. The tension continues, and headaches, low back pain, and bad knees result. We cover these aches and pains with medication hoping they will go away until the day the pain becomes so unbearable we have to decide between going over the daily dosage for a pill and actually learning to relax.

It sounds kind of funny, does it not? Learning to relax? Should we not already know how to relax? Is it not part of who we are? I think many of us have forgotten. It took me years of yoga practice before I could finally find moments of relaxation, and there are days, sometimes weeks, when I feel that I can no longer find it – even while practicing yoga.

What does it mean to truly relax?

It means more than sitting in front of the tv and vegging out. It means more than stalking people on facebook. It even means more than sleeping. Relaxing, paradoxically, is something we have to take time to do. It has to be done with intention. It is a time when we let our tense muscles release, our thoughts slow down, or at least no longer control us, and our bodies rejuvenate.

Restorative yoga is not designed to put us to sleep. It is actually designed to wake us up. Restorative yoga, like all relaxation practices, is designed to allow our bodies to come down from the constant fight-or-flight response and heal from the over abundance of adrenaline and cortisol. When we fall asleep, it is less a sign of deep relaxation than a sign of overwhelm.

So how do we train ourselves to relax again? It takes some time, but it can be done. We learn to pay attention. When we find ourselves reaching for the painkillers, take a moment and ask if it is possible to relax the muscles causing the pain. Sometimes just bringing awareness to the tension and consciously breathing into it will release it enough to decrease the pain. Sometimes we need to take a walk in nature or sit by the pool or sit on a yoga mat.

But we need to take time to relax. To truly relax. And of course, the days when it seems most difficult are the days we need it the most. There have been many times I have wanted to just sit in front of my computer (I do not have a television) and read facebook posts, but my entire being drags me to my mat. Those are usually the most deeply gratifying practices of them all. And sometimes they only last ten minutes, but those ten minutes of conscious relaxation are worth hours of productivity and health down the road.

The more moments like those we add to our lives, the easier it is to remember how to relax. It may take some time, but it is within each of us. 

Do you remember how to relax? What are your tools? Where do you hold your tension?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2012, all rights reserved.

Navigating Out: Overcoming Vicarious Trauma

The last post was a bit of doom and gloom. I apologize. I wanted to write this post the very next day, so the doom and gloom would not last too long. This post is, therefore, the opposite – tools for overcoming vicarious trauma. Not surprisingly, a few of them, ok a lot of them, have graced these posts before, and many of them are related to yoga in some way.

Once again, vicarious trauma stems from experiencing other peoples’ trauma day-in and day-out, without the ability to come down from the physiological response. That physiological response is the fight-or-flight response caused by increased cortisol and adrenaline with the added benefit of the hyperarousal associated with PTSD. Thus, the ways to overcome vicarious trauma include ways to release those hormones and ways to create boundaries in ourselves to decrease the effect the repeated trauma has on us.

The first step, of course, is the intention to move beyond the stronghold it has on our lives.

The number one way to reduce adrenaline and cortisol in the body is to get oxygen to the brain. As discussed before, one symptom of vicarious trauma and long-term stress is shallow, quick breathing. The opposite is, of course, deep and slow breaths. Therefore, one of the simplest and most effective ways to calm the physiological response is deep breathing - calm and cool breathing. Here is a link to all the posts here that have discussed breath (including this one).  The other way to get oxygen into the brain is through aerobic exercise. We all know how good exercise is for us, but some people still do not know how effective it is for overcoming stress responses and even vicarious trauma. It is great! Take a walk. Go for a run! Go swimming! Just make sure to get the heart rate up and oxygen into the brain.

And while we are on the topic of “what your doctor would tell you to do even if you were not overly stressed and suffering from vicarious trauma,” we can talk about diet. I try to keep discussions about diet off this blog. People who know me in “real life” are tired of me talking about food, but here it is very important. What is the last thing people who live off adrenaline and cortisol need in their diets? Stimulants! What is in every office breakroom? Coffee and sugar – stimulants!

I drink too much coffee. I try not to eat sugar. But when I feel my body getting tired and overrun, the need for both kicks in. I know they will only make the problem worse, but the body craves energy when we refuse it the rest and calm it deserves. But remember that when the body is in fight-or-flight mode, digestion is the first thing to shut down. Even reducing the coffee and sugar intake can help the body relax, especially if you reduce them in the afternoons and evenings. Instead, try for some fresh fruit, vegetables, or nuts. Nuts have fat the brain needs to function, and when we provide the body with complete nutrition, the cravings diminish. They may not go away, but nuts, whole grains, fruit, and vegetables will keep the body moving without the constant need for stimulants.

The next step is balance and boundaries. One of the indicators of someone who will suffer from vicarious trauma is a lack of boundaries. We take work home with us. We take peoples’ problems home with us. Setting up boundaries to give work its time will open up space for our own personal time. And that leads to the rest of the steps.

It is vitally important to have hobbies. I know someone who has been working with children and families for almost 30 years, and guess what she talks about most? Her craft projects. As a mentor, she teaches many of us young lawyers to have a hobby. She calls it therapy. And she is absolutely right! What do you love to do? Is it knitting? Gardening? Running? Going to the movies? Going out to eat? Reading? Playing video games? Going to a religious or spiritual place? Yoga? Whatever it is, follow Nike’s advice – just do it!

And enjoy your activities with a friend. Humans are social creatures. Again, we would not be here as a species if not for our social interactions. We need them. We crave them. And the surest sign that vicarious trauma has overtaken your life is when you start pushing away the people you love. So bring them back. They may be a bit upset about your recent irritability, but let them know you need their help. Let them know you want them around you for something fun. And make a promise – do not talk about the trauma. At least not at the beginning. Just have fun! Do what you love! And do it with someone you love!

There are other steps and stages and ideas. But these are the big ones. Oxygenate the brain, decrease the stimulants in the body, increase boundaries and social interactions, and find something you love to do and do it. But try not to do them all at once. Pick one. Right now. Before you close this page. Are you going to take a 15-minute walk each day with a friend? Are you going to drink one less cup of coffee? Are you going to start doing photography again? Are you going to sit and breathe for five minutes each day?

Do you intend to overcome vicarious trauma? What are you going to do to start the upward spiral?

"Navigating Out: Overcoming Vicarious Trauma" is part of the series, "Overcoming Crisis Mode," in which we discuss the second-hand trauma associated with being a lawyer and specific ways to overcome it.

© Rebecca Stahl 2012, all rights reserved.

Crisis Management: A Changing Perspective

While many of the recent posts have focused on the similarities between yoga and the law, today’s is about one of the biggest opposites. As I have mentioned before, lawyers live in a world defined by disaster. Whether in litigation and responding to the disaster at hand or in transactional work preparing for or trying to avoid disasters, the legal world moves among disasters.

Yoga, by contrast, is about simply preparing ourselves. While disasters are about the external world, or our definition of the external world, yoga is about preparing our internal selves for anything that happens in the external world. This is, of course, much easier to do when the external world in which we find ourselves is fairly simple and not one disaster after another.

So what do we do when we find ourselves surviving in crisis management? What do we do when we feel as though we are barely staying afloat, and if one more event occurs that requires our attention, our entire being is going to explode? That is when the yoga bucket is so vital. That is when the five minutes per day of internal practice help give us the strength to respond with our full awareness to these external forces rather than react with our immediate reactions, unsure of whether we are actually doing what is necessary.

Living in crisis management is dangerous on many levels. We harm ourselves because we live in a state of constant stress. The physiological effects of long term stress are well documented and include the inability to sleep, inability to digest, decreased immunity, etc. In addition to our own physical health, we harm our relationships because we are less capable of interacting with people from a place of heart. How often have you snapped at someone you love simply because you were too tired and stressed to speak to them differently?

Finally, living in that state of crisis management means we can never be in control of our professional lives. The irony, of course, is that we become less effective lawyers (or whatever) because our jobs require us to live in that constant state of managing the crisis du jour rather than preparing ourselves internally sufficiently to respond from a place of compassion and understanding each time an issue arises.

I think there is more to doing this than just having the de-stress bucket filled by doing a practice. I think it also requires a shift in perspective. The reason so many of us believe we live in crisis management is because we view so many parts of our lives as crises. What if we changed that perspective? What if we saw these moments as just another step along the path? What if we saw them as opportunities?

In my personal life, I have seen crises become the greatest moments in peoples’ lives. In my cases, I have seen what I thought were crises become non-issues simply by getting all the facts. And when I change my initial perspective, I find that I have a lot more to give to the situations that truly are crises because I have no used all my energy on the parts of my life that do not require such an intense response.

Unlike finding five minutes a day for a practice, which is simple but not easy, this change in perspective is not very simple either. At some level it requires a complete reprogramming of our responses to what we see as our external world. That takes time. But if I found one thing in New Zealand, it is also possible. I have been back in the United States now for just over a month, and I still find myself “looking right” half the time before I cross the street.

We do not have to choose to be in crisis management mode at all times. Sometimes it feels as though the world has not given us the choice to step back and step out of it, but with each new “crisis,” stop and take a breath. What would happen if you chose to stop and evaluate before going into crisis management immediately? How would that look different?

Do you find yourself living in crisis management? What tools have helped you?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl, 2012, all rights reserved.

Even Breaths

I have a yoga teacher who starts nearly every class in a similar fashion; she asks us, “is it easier to breathe in or to breathe out?” Inhales and exhales have different energies. On the inhale, we are filling our bodies with what the world has to offer. On an exhale, we are letting go of stale energy and anything in our bodies that no longer serves us. Over the course of our lives, we will have exactly as many inhales as exhales. Our first experience of the breath is an inhale, and our last experience is an exhale.

How often do you notice how they interact? How often do you notice which is stronger?

Lawyers and other professionals have a tendency to live on the edge and to struggle to find balance. It is no coincidence that one of the hottest topics in the professional community is work-life balance. The ubiquity of the topic indicates just how out of balance so many of us really are (and yes, I include myself in this category somewhat more than I would like). 

There are countless ways yoga can help us find balance, from asana (including tree pose) to noticing the equinox’s effect on our balance systems. But the simplest technique is to turn back to the breath. The breath and breathing is no foreigner to this blog, but somehow this simple technique has not yet graced its pages. And instead of focusing exclusively on the reality of balance, it focuses on the quality of balance, more easily expressed as evenness. 

The simplest technique is to bring evenness to the breath, evenness to the inhales and the exhales. Try this. Close your eyes (after you read this paragraph) and just notice your inhale and your exhale. Notice which one is longer and which one is stronger. They may not be the same one. Then consciously start to bring even them. Count the length of each, and try to inhale and exhale to the same count. Then slowly start to increase the length of each. See if you can double it from where you started.

Simple, right? All you have to do is breathe and count. Bringing evenness to the breath is a quick way to take control of our out of control lives and bring some semblance of balance back to them. A simple breathing technique cannot pick up the kids from school on time, but it just may help you slow down enough to focus and remember what time they have to be picked up. It can remind us that we carry this sense of evenness within us at all times. We just have to remember to tune in and notice.

The best part about this technique is that it can be done anywhere. Whether you are sitting at your desk or stuck in traffic, evenness in the breath can help you bring the quality of balance to your day. Just do it with your eyes open if you happen to be in your car.

What is your favorite way to bring evenness to your day? Do you notice a difference between chasing balance and finding evenness?

Namaste!

Even Breaths is part of the series At the Desk, which focuses on practical tips from the yoga world (and other interesting finds) to help those of us stuck at the desk all day long. If you are interested in other tips, click the label “At the Desk,” and if you have any specific questions you would like to see discussed, send them my way.

© Rebecca Stahl 2011, all rights reserved.

Finding the Residue

“But once you begin to observe and pay attention and be brought into the present, it is profoundly powerful. It almost doesn’t matter what does that for you, yoga or something else. The techniques, the asanas, are not the yoga. The residue that the techniques leave is the yoga. When we begin to look deeply at our speech, our posture, our breath, our thoughts, our choices, or our values, and observe those with compassion and a certain distance, we are changed forever.” – Judith Hanson Lasater

This quote comes from an interview Judith Hanson Lasater did on YogaDork the other day, in two parts (here and here). I have always liked her style, and the interview is very interesting, though focused on what it means to be a yoga teacher today. Thus, it may not speak to many people who are not yoga teachers.

Her point in this quote, however, is vital to lawyers and other professionals. If you read this blog often, you know how important I think it is to tune into the breath, to stop for a moment, and breathe. Personally, I believe it is the #1 stress management technique we have at our disposal, if for no other reason than the fact that we can do it anywhere and at anytime. We always have our breath, and it does not take years of practice to learn to breathe. It is both the first and last individual action we take.

The breath is also the quickest way to bring us into the present. Researching and writing legal memoranda, phone calls to clients, and answering emails are all ways to think about the past and prepare for the future. Unlike focusing on the breath, these tasks of everyday life take us out of the present. Yoga, by contrast, through asanas and breath awareness, bring us back to the present. As Lasater points out, yoga is not the only tool for this; I know plenty of people who run and swim for similar reasons.

But so what? Why should we care if we are always somewhere other than the present? Why should we care if our minds are running in a million different directions?

There are many, many reasons, but I like where Lasater takes her answer. Yoga, by bringing us into the present, helps bring us a healthy distance from those thoughts. We can look at them and recognize they do not define our being; instead they are simply thoughts. Like a good lawyer who is asked to look upon a case dispassionately, focusing only on the relevant facts for the case, when we come into the present through the breath or asanas, we can look upon our thoughts going by in hyperspeed for what they are: thoughts going by in hyperspeed.

From that place of distance, ironically we find compassion. We can see these thoughts as what our mind does to stay busy. We can recognize when we get lost in the same story over and over again, and let that story go. We can recognize when other people get stuck in their stories over and over again, and we can find compassion for other peoples’ stories, even if we disagree with them.

In today’s political climate, with protests spreading around the world (yes, there was even an Occupy event here in the small town where I am living in New Zealand), more and more people are turning to their stories, whatever they are. I have watched some great yogis and Buddhists speak at these protests (here, here, and here), and their message is always the same – it is not about deciding what you are against; it is deciding what you are for!

Seane Corn, a yogi, asked people to be FOR unity and love. Robert Thurman, a Buddhist, asked the protestors to have compassion and sympathy for the bankers. Marianne Williamson, an author, asked people to keep it smart, nonviolent, and growing. But my point here is not about the protests and what they should be. The point is that it is through awareness of our breath and our asana practice that we can find the ability to have compassion for others, even the ones we are “supposed to hate.”

For lawyers, this means seeing the “other side” not as an enemy and a battle to be fought and won, but as a person with a story, a mind on hyperspeed, just like each of us. For all of us, this means seeing people with whom we disagree as human beings, worthy of our compassion. It does not mean we never get annoyed with others (just drive with me if you want to see someone get annoyed too fast). But it does mean that when we catch ourselves in that moment of annoyance, and perhaps hate and vitriol, that we stop and remember to look dispassionately and then with compassion.

The residual benefits of yoga, therefore, become the most important. What do you do to stop yourself from going down the path of vitriol? Can you find compassion for your own thoughts? For others?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2011, all rights reserved.

Getting Away

We have all heard the phrase “stop and smell the roses.” But who actually does it? How often do we stop and notice as the world changes around us? How often do we notice the minutiae of the world?

I was raised Jewish, so this time of year has always been a time of reflection for me. While I do not follow most Jewish traditions (it was my rabbi, after all, who first recommended the book, That’s Funny, You Don’t Look Buddhist, about a Jewish woman who became a Buddhist), I do take the lessons of the New Year and Yom Kippur seriously. If for no other reason, they are a time to reflect.

Last year, I made a mistake. I scheduled my first-ever “Stress Management for Lawyers” seminar on Yom Kippur. A little mishap on my Google Calendar, and my own ignorance, were to blame, but I felt awful about it, not to mention the irony of working and teaching about stress management on a day that is supposed to be devoid of all work. Ooops.

So this year I decided I was going to get away for Yom Kippur. I am usually unable to fast from food for physical reasons, but there is little doubt of my most intense addiction. It is, of course, attachment to the internet. While I struggle with how much of the news to read and know, I also incessantly check my email on my phone and pop up facebook whenever I can. I even tweet, though that comes and goes.

But sometimes the universe works out right. I finished the entire rough draft of my thesis last week, and I knew I could get away for a few days. It just happened to be over Yom Kippur as well. So, I decided to head to Queenstown, the “adventure capital of the world!” My only adventure tourism was paragliding, but I got away from work, and Saturday, Yom Kippur, I stayed off the internet for more than 24 hours. Getting away from everything proved to be exactly what I needed.

It felt great. Absolutely wonderful, in fact.

Spring here in New Zealand apparently means still wearing a winter coat, but the trees and plants know it is spring, and they show it in all their glory. And for the first time in years, I took the time to pay attention. I do not mean just the flowers appearing, though the tulips and daffodils have been amazing. I mean watching the buds on trees turning into leaves, and the emerging pine cones. I mean literally stopping to smell the air as the flowers bring forth all their glorious scents.

But there was more than stopping and staring at flowers and leaves. There were hours of hiking and just sitting and looking at beautiful scenery. Early in the morning, I sat on the beach and watched the sun rise shedding its light on the Remarkables, the mountains looming over lake Wakatipu. At some point my shoulders dropped away from my ears. My breath began to slow and deepen. And my mind began to focus. 

There is no other way to say it, getting away did some good.

I was worried about turning off the internet. I was worried about being out of communication for a full day. I was worried about the massive amount of information to which I would return. And then I sat by a tree, staring out over a lake toward the Remarkables. All those concerns slipped away. The beauty of the mountain released me from my grip on myself. The "forced" fast gave me the perspective once again. Of course, I knew before being in Queenstown how much I love trees and mountains, but I had been striving so hard to live in two days at a time because New Zealand is a day ahead of the United States that I had forgotten how to live in the present. Mountains do not let you forget. Spring does not let you forget. 

The greatest lesson I want to learn from yoga, and in turn share with others, is how to use the tools in everyday life. I want to learn to sit at a desk breathing as well as I did on that mountain. I know it is possible. But I also know that modern life, especially a lawyer’s life, means cities. It means being indoors, carrying sweaters in summer because the air conditioning is too cold, and going days, weeks, and perhaps months without noticing the world’s changing patterns. Thus, sometimes we need to refill our coffers and remind ourselves what it means to truly stop, breathe, and reflect.

Then we can get back to work, the choice many of us make, using the tools to hold onto that essence for just a little bit longer. On this vacation, I found my breath again, not just my breath, but a deep, solid breath. But more than that, I remembered to stop and look at how amazing this world is and reflect on the beauty from which we so often hide behind our computer screens. It was through this fast that I was truly filled with the wonder of the world. 

Do you remember to get away? What do you learn from it?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2011, all rights reserved. 

Calm and Clear

As I mentioned in the last post, as part of a swim study, I got some “Mental Skills Training.” Essentially I learned yoga from a sports psychologist. The first skill we learned was to center ourselves and relax. Sound familiar? As regular readers know, the point of this blog is to bring these yoga lessons into daily life, and this mental skills training gave me a new path for doing that.

One tool rises above all the others in my mind for reducing stress, increasing productivity, and providing overall better health and wellbeing. It is also our greatest teacher. It is, of course, our breath.

A focus on the breath has graced the posts on this blog numerous times. But I never could find the words to express how to use the breath for all its benefits. Thus, the last post in this series, At the Desk, focused simply on stopping and noticing the breath and focusing on breathing into the lower abdomen. That is definitely the first step, but inevitably the mind starts to wander, and we forget the breath as quickly as we can.

There are numerous ways to try to calm the mind, and yoga provides many paths. One of those paths is focusing on a mantra, which is nothing more than repeating the same word or phrase over and over again. I have my favorite mantras, but until this Mental Skills Training, I had not found one that spoke to my “professional” side as opposed to my “yogic” side (as if they can really be distinguished).

But then I did this Mental Skills Training, and my decade-long yoga practice met my desk-bound, stressed out, fear-of-water self. They met in two simple words.

Calm and Clear.

Calm on the inhale. Clear on the exhale. With each inhale, repeat the word “calm” to yourself, and with each exhale, repeat the word “clear.” They signify a calm body and a clear mind. Calm and Clear. Inhale and exhale.

What a perfect mantra for our modern society, when we run through life, rarely taking time for our bodies, and bombarding our minds with RSS feeds, facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, and gchat, not to mention work (or is that just me?). Remembering, in the midst of all of this, to remind ourselves to have a calm body and a clear mind by focusing on our breath is vital. Moreover, there is nothing easier at your desk than breathing, and adding a silent mantra focuses the attention and begins to slow the thoughts and heal the body.

Can you take 1 minute per day for a “Calm and Clear” mantra? Can you take 5 minutes per day? 

Namaste! 

Calm and Clear is part of the series At the Desk, which focuses on practical tips from the yoga world (and other interesting finds) to help those of us stuck at the desk all day long. If you are interested in other tips, click the label “At the Desk,” and if you have any specific questions you would like to see discussed, send them my way.

© 2011 Rebecca Stahl, all rights reserved

In the Face of Fear, or Finding Yoga

I hate swimming. There, I said it. Yes, I know hate is a strong word, and I am really trying to take it out of my vocabulary, but there are few things that prompt such a visceral reaction in me as swimming in a pool. Perhaps the only other one, especially since being in New Zealand, is constantly being cold. I don’t mind cold outside, but when cold is everywhere, when you can never warm up, cold gets to me. I am not the only American in New Zealand who has been brought to the verge of tears because it is just so cold inside!

So it might come as a surprise that I volunteered to participate in a swim study, especially one that tested the effects of cold-water immersion. That’s right. I willingly entered 10 degree (50 degrees Fahrenheit) water 4 times, and 15 degree (about 60 degree) water about 10 times. Two reasons: 1) I had just sent out a survey hoping for a great response and got a dismal response rate, so I am on a kick to help others who are doing research; and 2) I wanted to face my fears.

Yes, it is a cliché – the only way to overcome your fears is to face them. But most cliché’s get there because they are true. Want proof that I was nervous? My resting heart rate before getting in the cold water the first time was 87 beats per minute (as a comparison, it was later 65 bpm while just sitting in a room, at least according to my count). I do a lot of yoga. I meditate. I know the power of breath. I know the power of the mind. I ignored all of that and freaked out.

The study worked fairly simply. They hooked me into a harness, hung me over a pool treadmill and dropped me in the water. Luckily, my head never went under. I had to do various trials, including treading water, swimming, mental tasks, etc. They did these first tests over two days while measuring my brain oxygen levels and my heart rate. Then a group of us non-swimmers received some “mental skills training” and a video on good water treading techniques. Then we practiced. Once or twice a day, I got into a tank of 15-degree water and treaded water for 3 minutes. After all the training, they did the same tests again to see if there was a difference.

I learned, or remembered, a few things. First, 10 degrees is really, really cold. Second, the mind is a powerful tool. Third, yoga off the mat really works . . . when we remember to use it.

So what was this mental skills training? It started with a video. The video was a man who swims in 1-2 degree water for fun and sits in industrial fridges to prove that he can. Most of us would die in either setting, but he is not only alive, but perfectly fine. His body temperature is no different than others when he is in the cold (a friend sat with him in the fridge for an hour), but his mind is different. His story reminded me of a story of monks who meditate in little clothing while sitting atop snowy mountains, the snow melting below them. The mind is a powerful tool.

Just like any tool, we can learn to use it. That’s the yoga off the mat. The mental skills training also included discussion about how to “handle” the cold. We learned breathing techniques (the subject of the next post), imagery techniques, and positive thinking techniques. Thus, we learned to relax, imagine the situation to reduce fear, reframe the concept of cold to “invigorating” rather than “bloody hell!,” and practiced to train the body to get used to the cold.

So, what’s the verdict? Well, I do not know my resting heart rate before being dropped in that water after all the training. But I do know how I felt. Was I nervous? Yeah, I was still nervous. But I was less nervous. Do I want to join the Polar Swim Club? Nope. Do I want to join any swim club? Nope, not really.

But guess what? The visceral reaction is gone. The thought of water no longer sends shivers down my spine. 

The mind is powerful. It can convince us of anything if we let it have the power. But we can also learn to control it. And with control of the mind, we can begin to control our fears. It will not happen overnight, but for nearly 30 years, I have hated water, and in a few short weeks, I can look at a pool with no emotion.

It just requires taking a bit of my own medicine.

What fears do you have? What would it take to face them? The next post will be a discussion of the specific breathing technique we learned. Teaser: yoga from a sports psychologist – have I entered the Twilight Zone?

Namaste!

© 2011 Rebecca Stahl, all rights reserved