What are yours?
If any of the themes below resonate with you, I’d love to hear from you.
with love ✨, CATHERINE
Observations on moving, breathing and being. These are mine.
I’ve been writing them down since 2020.
I took a long pause. I’m back now.
Beginnings (part 2)
It is a hard and beautiful time to be alive. These words could likely be written, read, spoken, heard at any time in history to accurately represent life, yet they seem particularly fitting in this present moment.
Many of us right now are likely angered, saddened, anxious. As if we didn’t have enough already to carry, we bore witness earlier this week to an incomprehensible act of sedition and insurrection at one of the foremost symbols of democracy in the world. We are shaken.
…
It is during these moments of incomprehension that I am even more grateful for my self-care and well-being practices that are so strongly anchored in yoga. It is through these disciplined practices that I can still attempt an inner calm despite all that is with respect to work and love and life.
So as we enter into week two of this new year…what might we implement today to nurture and foster this inner stillness and influence our perspective on life?
Beginnings (part 1)
Happy New Year!
I don’t know about you, but since Christmas Day, I’ve felt this tremendous pressure to be ready and able to leave all of 2020 behind as the calendar ushers us into 2021. Willing, yes! But ready? And able?
I’ve wrestled with thoughts such as, I haven’t done this yet or I haven’t solved for that yet or I haven’t come close to fixing that yet. I’ve especially wrangled with, but I don’t want to take this <<hurt, pain, ache, fear, dread>> with me into the next year—I need more time!.
Side note: don’t get me wrong. I’ve also had countless moments since early May all the way to as recently as yesterday when I've told 2020 to go f' itself, begging it to be 2021 already.
And then the clock struck 12. 2020 was over; 2021 had begun.
I let out an audible sigh of relief.
No longer was there this unrealistic pressure of out with the old, in with the new but rather an acknowledgement that there’re still things to be done, solved, “fixed”; that there’s still anguish and anxiety that came along with me into the new year; and that that’s all okay.
Another side note: don’t get me wrong here, either. I still opened my back doors at midnight to let out the old year and opened my front door to welcome in the new year. You can never be too sure…
It’s all about perspective…
A reflection on uncertainty
I have a super power. We all do.
Mine? It's my strong work ethic. It always has been. I'm a believer in discipline and hard work, and I enjoy the focus, persistence and motivation that my work ethic both requires and nurtures. It’s no wonder, then, that a strong yoga practice is the foundation of my self-care and well-being rituals, as yoga itself is a disciplined, driven approach towards transformation.
However...my relationship with my super power hasn't always been the healthiest. I’ve oftentimes over-prioritized it at the expense of its opposite—that being rest, relaxation, “down time”. This has sometimes (read: often) resulted in overwhelm, disappointment, frustration.
More times than not, I've directed my work ethic towards externally, productivity-driven “expectations"…
A reflection on initiation
…
There is disruption that comes with initiation, and with it anxiety and fear, often due to loss of comfort, of routine, of identity. These challenges in turn bring about overwhelm, worry, self-doubt.
No wonder we run.
It’s easier instead to hold on (to dear life) to that which might only offer a false sense of security and certainty, but a sense of security and certainty at that—less frightening than to embark on an initiation to…where?
As I received my invitation, I pulled out pen and paper (figuratively) and scribbled out my stock reply. “Thanks so much, but sadly, I’m not available. I’m going for a run. Maybe next time! Enjoy.” I addressed the envelope, put a stamp on it. I laced up my shoes, in fact, and placed my hand on the doorknob.
But I didn’t run.
Instead, I chose to sit…
A reflection on thanks
I’ve been re-watching Apple TV+’s Ted Lasso the last few weeks, which if you haven’t seen yet, watch now and thank me later. (And if you end up doing neither, we must talk…)
I would describe the show as both positive and cheerful while also sad and grounded—and overall, inspirationally kind and vulnerable.
While there are many incredible lines to quote for those of you whom that is a thing—including multiple references throughout as to why we should strive to be a goldfish—there’s a pair of lines that really resonates with me as we reflect and give thanks this Thanksgiving.
Late in the season, Ted, played by Jason Sudeikis, learns of a very personal and professional betrayal and has the option of how to respond. Many of us, if presented with our equivalent of this situation, would likely react first, reflect later.
Ted chose differently. He paused, allowing for space between the stimulus (the news) and his response. He invited in his breathe to slow down his sympathetic “fight or flight” nervous system. He related to the injurious individual, finding common ground and connection with this obviously injured person herself. Ultimately, he humanized his response, forgiving her and finding the silver lining from this otherwise hurtful situation.
…(it’s) changed my life. It gave me the distance I needed to see what was really going on…you and me? We’re okay…
~Ted Lasso (Ted Lasso, season 1, episode 9)
The connection, Catherine…please…
A reflection on being our own CEO
“It’s tough being the CEO of your own life,” said yours truly to her sister earlier today.
And while it is—tough, that is, playing this all-crucial role of CEO—it’s also not a role that I’d want to outsource to anyone else. I and I alone can hold this position for Me, Myself & I Incorporated.
There are days when I would give myself CEO of the Year Honours. (These are few and far between, mind you.) And there are days when I would fire myself if I could. (Thankfully, these are also few and far between.) Most days, I’m an average CEO. I get the job done. I can do better in some areas, I could probably do worse in others.
How do the best of us manage?…
A reflection on possibilities
It feels like it’s been awhile since I last shared my reflections of the week. I suppose it has—looking back, it’s been three weeks since my post on sadness. While those thoughts were specific…to the end of what I had thought was the beginning of a renewed commitment…, I suppose there’s been a layer of sadness enveloping me for awhile now. I’ve experienced a lot of loss, as have we all—my relationship (now twice), my job, my pet, my sense of normalcy, even my ability to travel as I otherwise might have with this “gifted” time.
But I’ve also felt sadness with respect to the state of discourse in our society today—the sheer divisiveness in language used seemingly at all levels, across all aisles, surrounding all topics—and our inability, or sometimes refusal, to recognize our shared commonalities. As like many of us, I’ve allowed myself to become distracted by much of this, which has hindered both my direction and my momentum.
Politics aside, this election cycle has renewed my hope and sparked an optimism within me that the future is bright…
A reflection on sadness
I’m sad.
I’m not sure I can hide that I’m sad, and I’m not sure that I should. As Brene Brown says, “when we numb the painful emotions, we also numb the positive ones”. I’m not willing to numb joy or happiness or pleasure anymore. I did this for far too many years as a result of walls I constructed around myself in order to protect me from, well, anything and everything—failure, fear, abandonment, rejection, loss, etc. I refuse to make this sacrifice anymore. So this then begs the question—what do I do with this sadness?
I embrace it.
While I don’t want sadness to become my norm, to be my home, I do want to invite it in…
