The Beauty of Nature

Just like a big portion of the US right now, Tennessee is in the midst of a winter storm.

Now, if you’ve never lived in the South, you may not understand that a winter storm is much different here than in other parts of the country that are used to getting snow.

First, we don’t handle it well—At. All. It’s not common here, so it simply doesn’t make sense for us to keep all of the equipment and supplies on hand to clear roads and keep people moving.

I went to elementary school in the Boston area. I remember going to school with snowplow piles several feet high on either side of the road. At our school, when it snowed and we couldn’t go on the playground, we still went outside—we played in the street! And I mean that literally. There was a little side street that went behind the school, and they would close it off to traffic, and we would run around and play in that area of the road because it was paved and cleared of snow.

Here in the South, only the main roads get cleared. Then, as they are able, they work their way back to the smaller streets and neighborhoods. But to be honest, most of the people in the small “off-the-main-road” neighborhoods simply rely on Mother Nature (aka the sun!) to clear their paths.

Second, we very rarely get just snow. We get ice. A lot of ice. I don’t care if you are from Boston, Detroit, or anywhere else that experiences a lot of snowstorms—you can NOT drive on ice. I can’t tell you how many northern transplants (and yes, my family was exactly that) come here and say, “I can drive in snow; you southerners just don’t know how to do it.” Then they are the exact ones needing to get pulled out of the ditch. I don’t say that derogatorily. I’m just telling you that no one can drive on ice—especially when it accumulates to 0.5 inches.

All of that is to say that the city has basically shut down, and I am stuck at home. I know what most of you are thinking—“I’d love to be stuck at home!” Well… good for you!  I am not on that bandwagon.

Honestly, I am already home more than I like. So being forced to be here even more has really been grating on my nerves. I teach classes on the weekends, and I enjoy it! So, I have been focused on the irritation of this forced isolation and the inability to get out to do something that I enjoy.

But then, I noticed some of the birds outside of my patio window. I have a lot of cardinals and jays that come around. Their bright reds and blues really pop against the stark white of the snow. They were hopping around from branch to branch, and it seemed they may be looking for something to eat.

I keep a cheap bag of cat food in my cupboard for the few ferals that come around every now and then. In the past, I’ve noticed that what the cats may not finish, the birds will come and eat. So, I dug out that bag of cat food, sprinkled it around the patio, and waited.

I didn’t have to wait long before a couple of tiny little birds (I won’t pretend to know what they are) came up and stole a few pieces to take back to their branches. Then the blue jays came. The different shades of blue really stood out against the white background of the snow on the ground. They grab two or three pieces at a time and then fly back to their safe spots.

The cardinals followed the jays. They are slightly more cautious. I can see them waiting up in the trees, scanning for just the right moment to pop over and grab a few bites before they scramble back up to the safety of the trees.

I have a soft spot for cardinals. Not just because they are beautiful, but because my Nana loved them. She used to feed the birds every day. I remember in the spring she would sit out on the patio and sing, “Chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee.” (I realize you probably can’t get the full appreciation for that sound in a blog, but just go with me here.)  We don’t really have many chickadees here in Tennessee—I’ve only ever seen a few. But we do have cardinals, and those were her favorite. I’d like to believe my Nana sends them… or at least watches them with me when they come.

As I sit and watch the birds fly back and forth, snatching a bite of cat food (hey, they don’t know it’s cat food) and flying off, I’m reminded that nature doesn’t spend time being annoyed at the situation. The birds just deal with it and go about their morning searching for breakfast. I hope the bit of food I put out makes their search a little easier, but I know if I hadn’t done that, they would have found something else. Because that is the beauty of nature. It just keeps going.

The birds don’t know that their bright reds, brilliant blues, and fifty shades of greys (yes, I went there) are brightening up my day. But they are.

I guess this has been a long-winded way of saying that I’m reminded today that I can find beauty in any situation, even one that I have been dreading for a week. So, I am going to continue to watch “my” birds as they fly around in the snow while I eat my “snowed-in” snacks. But don’t worry—I am still doing my “no-snow-shimmy dance” and hoping it only lasts a day or two. Even the beauty of the birds can’t change me that much!

A Pain the A** Changed My Life

A Pain in the A** Changed My Life

I’m only half joking when I say, “A pain in the a** changed my life.”

At the time, I had a corporate job—a typical “desk” job—staring at a screen for 8 to 9 hours a day. This was before I had started practicing yoga, and it was a very sedentary lifestyle. Truthfully, the most exercise I did on a daily basis was walking from one room to another.

One day, I started to feel a pain down in my right butt cheek—yep, that’s where the a** comes into the picture. It was very subtle at first, more of an annoyance than actual pain, so I ignored it for a while. Gradually, it started to get worse. Not only did the “annoyance” turn into real pain, but the pain also began to radiate up into my lower back. I found myself sitting on a heating pad during the day while I worked.

I tried doing some stretches to see if they would help, but my limited knowledge didn’t lead me very far. I started looking up stretching videos online, hoping something would relieve the pain. I found a lot of basic “stretching” videos, but nothing touched the specific area where I was feeling discomfort. Eventually, I came across a Full Body Yin Yoga practice.

I had dabbled in yoga multiple times over the years, starting in college when I took a yoga class to fulfill a physical education credit requirement. I always enjoyed it but never found a program I could stick with. I tried so many “30 Day” programs, and my biggest accomplishment in any of them was making it to Day 8. While I had a general understanding of yoga, I had never heard of yin yoga before.

The video I found was 45 minutes long. Now, I want to bring you back to the beginning, where I told you that the most exercise I got during the day was walking around my apartment. Needless to say, I was not in the habit of doing anything for 45 minutes. I looked at it and thought, “I’ll try it, but I know I won’t do it for 45 minutes.”

I rolled out my yoga mat for the first time in over a year and turned on the video. I found myself pulled into long-held poses and stories about letting go and being present.

I have always loved stretching. As long as I can remember, I’ve thought, “Man, I could hold that stretch for so much longer,” but I never knew that was actually a thing. Turns out, yin yoga was what my body had been craving all along.

That first practice not only touched my soul, but it stretched the exact spot I had been needing to soothe—the pain in my a**. As I followed the cue into deer pose, I felt the perfect stretch right where I needed it. It hurt—but it was the “good” hurt. The kind of discomfort you feel when you’re getting a massage and the therapist hits that perfect spot.

As I came out of the practice, my first thought was, “That was great, but it wasn’t 45 minutes…” Turns out—it was! It was the first time I had done any kind of practice for that long. Looking back, I realize that for the first time in a long time, my mind had settled. I was fully present and not spiraling for that entire practice. I had never experienced anything like that before.

Now, I’d like to tell you that it was in that moment I was hooked and—whoo hoo—I never looked back…but things don’t always work that way. Honestly, as much as I enjoyed the practice, at that time all I was looking for was relief from the pain in my a**. The next day, the pain was gone, and I most likely wouldn’t have given yin yoga a second thought.

A day later, the pain returned—in the same spot, with the same intensity. Looking back, I know it was the Universe saying, “One time wasn’t enough? Do it again…”

I pulled up the same video and did the same practice. And just like the first time, it stretched the exact spot I needed. But this time, it sank in a little deeper. I realized it was more than just stretching. My mind was becoming quiet for the first time in I don’t know how long. This time, I started to research what yin yoga actually is—and that research brought me into a whole new world. Before I knew it, I was doing 90-minute practices and relishing the stillness.

The teacher I had discovered had a talent for weaving stories and philosophy into the practice. Not only was I giving my body what it had been looking for, but I was also discovering an entirely new way of seeing the world.

For months, I said, “I am only practicing yin yoga…power yoga is too hard.” I was still stuck in the story that I wasn’t strong enough. Eventually, I decided to try a beginner-level power program—a 30-day program. As mentioned, I had yet to make it past Day 8 of any 30-day program.

I made it through Day 30 of this program without missing a single day. Life-changing.

If it hadn’t been for that initial pain in the a**, I may have never discovered yin or been pulled back into yoga in a way I had never experienced before. Looking back, I realize it wasn’t a simple coincidence. This was the Universe’s way of guiding me back onto the path meant for me. There is no doubt in my mind that if I hadn’t stuck with it the second time, that pain in my a** would have kept returning until I did.

Sometimes we see a pain in the a** as a nuisance—but in reality, it might be the motivation we need to make a change.

Yoga & Flexibility

One of the most common things I hear when I tell people I practice yoga is, “I’m not flexible enough to do yoga.” Guess what? You don’t have to be flexible to practice yoga! This is such a big misconception.

If your goal really is to become more flexible, that’s exactly why you should start a consistent yoga practice. If you were thinking about starting a running routine, you wouldn’t say, “I can’t run 2 miles, so I can’t run.” You’d start out running a short distance and build up from there. Yoga and flexibility work the same way. As you come to the practice more and more, your body begins to release built-up stress and tension, allowing your muscles to open and become more flexible.

Yin yoga is an excellent place to start when it comes to building flexibility. The long, deep holds allow your body to move into the deeper fascia, stretching and increasing flexibility over time. Adding props to your practice allows you to start where you are and makes just about any pose accessible to all levels.

When I first started practicing yin yoga, I was not flexible… AT ALL! In order to do a forward fold such as Caterpillar, I found myself reaching for a bolster and two blocks, building up a support tower to rest my head on—and if you’re picturing someone struggling to fold forward more than a few inches, that was me! Leaning back in Saddle pose wasn’t even on the radar. I started out sitting on a block and eventually was able to lean back onto a bolster with a very thick pillow stacked on top. After about six months of practice, I was able to recline fully onto the floor, and it is now one of my favorite poses. People often ask me, “Have you always been this flexible?” My response is always laughter followed by, “No—it’s the yin!”

Of course, it doesn’t matter if you are ever able to lean all the way back or touch your nose to your knee in a forward fold. The point is that if you desire flexibility, you’ll gain it by coming to your mat and sticking with the practice.

It’s important to note that while yoga provides many physical benefits—flexibility being one of them—it is not the main purpose of coming to the mat. Yoga teaches you to pay attention to your body in a whole new way. I used to hear the phrase “just listen to your body,” and it never made much sense to me because, prior to yoga, I had never paid attention in that manner. Practicing the stillness of yin taught me how to hear what my body was saying—sometimes it was, “I can go a little deeper here,” and sometimes it was, “We need to back off in this one.”

Beyond the body, yoga settles your mind and allows you to move inward through all the layers that cover your true self. As you travel through those layers, the practice becomes a way of remembering who you truly are without all the outside labels. Every time you step onto the mat, it’s a new opportunity to let that inner light shine.

So, bottom line—you don’t need to be flexible to start practicing yoga. You just need to be open to discovering your true self, and the flexibility will come along as a bonus!