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Grace is the physical manifestation of my usual state of mind.

I started a new job in March, which is wonderful. I not only love what I do, I love the team I'm working with. The three of us have become quite close. As much as I love the job, it is a job and as such, it does take up a lot of my time. And then I've got those two kids. And the spouse. And a lot of friends. And hobbies and working out and going grocery shopping. So as you can imagine, I am pretty busy just like everyone reading this post.

But busyness can be a burden. I mean, sometimes it's great! I have so much amazing stuff to do and so many awesome people to do it with! And my kids make me laugh! And my husband spoils me! And I have a personal trainer and a therapist and a writing coach! I mean, damn, everyone should be so lucky to be busy in the way that I am. I totally get how extremely fortunate I am.

But still.

So.

Busy.

Busyness can become a state of mind in addition to a physical state. I'm running from work to day camp to hockey practice to working out to appointments to the grocery store. And while I'm running all over doing all that, I'm thinking of what just happened or what's about to happen or what I need to happen later that day, tomorrow, a week from now and next December.

Busy.

Busy.

Busy.

It's all good busy, don't get me wrong. I mean, crap, I have a housekeeper. So it's not like I'm busily scrubbing toilets. I'm busy doing a lot of things I love to do and a lot of things I'm happy to do for my friends and family.

But the mind can only take so much.

At one time does it rest? When do you stop all that and just Be? When do you came back into your own? I read a lot. I tend to think that's my "me" time and it is. But reading is another form of busyness too. It keeps my mind preoccupied.

The other night I went to yoga. I hadn't been to yoga since I don't even know when. Yoga feels like a luxury. Yoga isn't fast. Yoga doesn't fit in to my prioritized list of THINGS I MUST DO. Yoga fits into THINGS I'D LIKE TO DO IF ONLY I HAD TIME.

But I did it anyway. I carved out a space in the evening and just laid claim to it. I said to hell with putting the kids to bed or picking up kids from hockey or letting my husband go work out. I put all of their needs aside and said OKAY LOOK I THINK I ACTUALLY NEED THIS.

Though I didn't have to yell it.

I just had to ask.

Sometimes I think I'm bad at asking for what I need.

So I went to yoga after a very long absence from it and I stretched and sweated in the dark. I let the music fill my bones and resonate through my body. I stretched and moved until the sweat ran in my ears (SWEAT CAN RUN IN YOUR EARS?). I moved my body and felt the white hot sting of muscles and tendons that had not moved or stretched in this way in many months. I held the pose even if I was on fire. I held the space even though it was hot. I moved even though I wasn't quite sure what the next pose was supposed to be.

And in all that (perhaps another form of busyness too?) my mind became very still. The music pulsed and resonated through my body, the sweat trailed down my arms and spilled onto my mat. I stretched my hip and let the pain radiate until it became a pin-white spot of focus. I closed my eyes and the heat, the dark and the vibration became the womb. Whether I was moving or still, I was present in the thick warm air of the studio.

I imagined the heartbeat of my mother. I imagined a life completely sustained and all of its needs met by one convenient tube pumping your sustenance, your oxygen, truly your life blood, through it. I floated and calmed. I was just there with me. My own heartbeat. My own thoughts. My forehead resting on the mat, my breath coming back up on me. Hot. Wet. Dark. Pulsing. Calm.

Then the door opened and a cool sweep of air passed over me.

I breathed deeply.

I was one in that room with the other moving bodies. With the yoga teacher reminding me, "To let that shit go."

And it was good.

All was still.

It was the opposite of "busy."

Fazed by Nothing, Awed by Everything

Took this in the middle of writing this blog. MULTI-TASKING!

It's no secret that I've been seeking peace and equanimity my whole life. As a child I used to climb a tree in my yard and hug it to my little body as tightly as I could. Something about the seeming permanence of the tree, the solidity of it, the depth of its roots and the height of its branches—all made me feel safe. What was going on inside my house was definitely not safe. I imagined that the tree was my mother, holding me in the arms of its branches and I was soothed.

So it was that I was seeker from way back. When I hit college I found a deep connection to Buddhism and that helped lend me a certain sense of peace. At least I felt like I had found some answers. When the Buddha said, "Life is suffering," I said, "Hell yeah!" I feel like he got where I was coming from and knew which way to guide me. 

I've also spent a lot of time in therapy. I saw my first therapist at 14 and I've kind of been in therapy, off and on, ever since. I've learned a lot from my therapists. A lot of that has coincided with what Buddhism has taught me. I've learned to not be so attached to my ego—or at least be aware of when my ego is bumping up against itself and/or others.

A lesson I learned in my twenties and thirties was that everything wasn't about me. That blew my mind. As a child who felt abandoned by her parents, I was pretty well convinced that everything was my fault. My mom drank because I was a bad kid. My dad left us because I was a bad kid. You get the idea. Kids are all ego.

But see, you're supposed to let go of that as you get older. If you don't have anyone there to guide you to that knowledge, to support and cradle you in their arms—soothe you—well, you might get stuck there. So I had to pay for that love and knowledge. I think I bought my first therapist's Lexus.

Totally worth it, by the way.

Now that I'm in my forties, I'm continuing to seek solace and peace of mind. My husband and I have found a terrific marriage counselor who complements our work with our individual therapists. Something I've learned from her is that we're always going to annoy each other.

I know. We've paid her a lot of money to learn that.

The thing is, it's okay if we annoy each other. It's not the end of the world. I think I'm the sort of person who can panic over everything. Any disagreement or irritation can be a sign that everything is about to go to hell.

But it's not like that anymore.

Maybe it was like that when I was a little girl who had to escape to the trees. But now I'm a grown woman with a lot of resources. I don't have to be so rattled by every little thing. As I wrote yesterday, if I allow myself to worry over every little thing, I'm ruining a really great time in my life.

This morning, I heard another snippet of wisdom from a different yoga teacher.

"Fazed by nothing, awed by everything."

That's how the yogis live. And that's how the buddhas live too. It's what I've been looking for my whole life. Things are going to go wrong. People will disappoint you. Crap will break in your house. And truly terrible things will happen. But if we can maintain our own inner stability in the face of it all, we can keep our feet planted on the ground. We can trust the deep roots of our own abilities and spirit to persevere. And we can be present enough to enjoy the beautiful moments that are happening all around us, all the time.

Right now, even. In this moment here.

I want to live like that. Fazed by nothing, awed by everything. Hard times will come and go. You will survive them. You'll survive them even when you're quite convinced they'll kill you. I've been hurt so badly I thought I'd never breathe again let alone love again.

And yet here I am.

In love again. In marriage counseling. Still seeing a therapist. Taking an anti-depressant and going to yoga every damn day. Not going to temple enough. Slowly plodding through my first book. But man, I'm putting one foot in front of the other and there have been many times in my life that I honestly didn't think that could happen.

After each heartbreak, each disappointment, each total and complete decimation of the life I once had—I pick myself up and I move on. I make something new. I get stronger and I get better. And now I've got two kids and a husband who fill me with a sense of awe I never thought I'd know.

My knowledge of love has expanded. My faith in it has multiplied. I'm filling up where I once was empty.

When I ride my bike to my therapist this afternoon, I'll ride under the branches of the trees and I'll be awed by the way the September light plays on the leaves. I heard someone once describe this certain quality of light as "God Light." In Buddhism, God is everywhere and everything. I am God. You are God. The tree is God. The light that dapples its leaves is God.

Why wouldn't we be awed by everything when everything is God? Everything is holy. All of it, good, bad and indifferent. Flattened on the floor by heartbreak. Lifted up by new love. Holy. Sitting here right now, writing this blog. Holy. You there, reading it. Holy holy holy.

Now to work on that whole "Fazed by nothing" thing.

Ah well.

I'm a work in progress.

Namaste.

Just Because You Think That Sh*t, Doesn't Mean It's True

Oh lord, it's a yoga selfie.

Part of working from home is having more time to think. Of course that's beneficial to the creative process and allows you to get into the deeper waters of thought and inspiration. But more time to think can also be a bit of a double-edged sword for some of us.

More time to think can also mean you have more time to think crappy thoughts. More time to worry. More time to obsess. More time to doubt yourself. I'm good at all of those things, even with limited time.

I've been trying to keep myself chill by doing yoga every day and by walking and/or biking most places in town. These activities put me in a more peaceful frame of mind. But eventually I have to get back to brass tacks. And it's either working on projects for clients, working on my book, or working around the house for my family. Those are deep wells of possible anxiety.

Plus I just quit my job. My big-deal job. The job that was supposed to be the culmination of 15 years in the advertising industry working my way up slowly and steadily to my "dream job" as a social media manager at one of the major automotive manufacturers. Turns out my dream job wasn't so dreamy for me, personally. Having been in advertising agencies for so many years, it turns out that I'm more suited to working with other creatives than working in a huge corporate machine.

And that's okay.

You don't know what you like until you try it. Right?

But you could see how it might produce some anxiety-laden thoughts after quitting a big deal job to go out on your own. To be your own boss. To drum up your own business and to finish writing that damn book you've been working on for over ten years. There's a lot of pressure to make it all work.

And I don't want to let anyone down.

Most of all my husband, who's supporting me in this major life move.

I find myself spending a lot of time worrying about him and whether he's happy. I find myself worrying about my new clients and wondering whether they're happy. And now that I have more time to spend with my children, I worry more about whether they're happy too.

Sometimes more time is more time to worry. But I heard something really great in my yoga class this morning.

"Just because you think that shit, doesn't mean it's true."

Man, did that message stick. I think sometimes I worry myself into believing something is true. I imagine all sorts of things. I imagine people are disappointed in me. And then it changes the way I feel about myself. It changes the whole tenor of my day. And then it changes the way I treat others. It's like I've created this vortex of doubt and disappointment and then I've shit all over something truly beautiful.

My husband has given me a wonderful opportunity to start my own business and finish my book. Yet I could ruin that gift by worrying it away into something negative. My clients have given me a wonderful opportunity to do the work I love without all the layers of bureaucracy and second-guessing that comes with big agencies and corporations. My children have the wonderful opportunity to have more time with their mom and to have a mom that is less stressed.

I could ruin all of that with my worries. With my self-created worries. Worries that I myself turn into a reality.

Just because I think that shit, doesn't mean it's true.

I needed to hear that today. It took me back to a good place. I find myself joyful. I find myself noticing the way the light plays on the leaves on this terrific September day. The words are flowing out of my fingers. I feel such love for my husband that I want to smother him in a big hug when he gets home. And I can't wait to pick up my daughter and ride her home on the bike while we talk about her day.

These things are true.

These things are good.

Namast-fucking-tay.