Mirror, mirror, on the wall

One day I walked into the women's locker room at Gregory Gym and was bombarded with anonymous sticky notes like this:

They were on the mirrors, on the scale, and everywhere else. The idea was to, at the precise moment a young woman is feeling particularly self-conscious about her body, fill her with thoughts that uplift her. It's a really neat idea.

There are always interesting things going on at Gregory Gym, and I love how UT RecSports not only tries to expose and tear down destructive ways of thinking, it also aims to build a healthy, supportive environment. But in the midst of good intentions, we receive mixed messages:

So is the way I look important or not? The first note suggests that what I see in the mirror is of minor importance, if it has any importance at all. The second and third praise me for the way I look.

When it comes to our physical appearance, what is it that uplifts us? Positivity? Something that makes us feel good? The second and third sticky notes use more positive language than the first, and they're more likely to elicit immediate warm, fuzzy feelings. They're also opinions, not facts. They're opinions you have to earn each and every day.

It's truth that uplifts. The truth is that physical beauty is a gift, not the measure of your worth. Your body, whether or not you think it beautiful, is an amazing gift that you've been given, and that's why it's important to take care of it. But however much time, energy, and money you put into your body, it's not what you put into yourself that determines what kind of person you are. It's the fruit of your life, what comes out of you, that is evidence of your heart. It's important, especially for people like me, who are constantly surrounded by words and images of health and beauty, to remember these things. However considerate I am of what goes into my mouth, I must be that much more considerate of what comes out of it. However much exercise I do to my body, I must consider all the more what I do with my body out in the world.

Give your body the love and respect it deserves, but no more than that.

MLK wants me to step it up

Lately I have felt the need to take my teaching to the next level. I've been teaching public yoga classes for nearly two years and by now I'm over the jitters I used to get before teaching. I'm confident in the sequences I develop, I give clear alignment cues, and I'm reasonably comfortable handling whatever combination of body types happens to walk into my class. I've honed my skills, I deliver great content.

But when teaching, is it ever really only about the content? Are the best teachers the ones who know their subject forward and backwards? The ones who know the best way to describe a concept? Maybe they do, but that's not what makes them the best. The best teachers care about their students, make a personal connection. Not only that, they uplift their students.

It's not just a bunch of bodies that are in my care when I lead a class, it's a room of people. They have names (which, up to now, I've not tried in earnest to learn...there are so many of them, after all...) and personalities and lives.

My students are seekers of health and wellness, but that world is fraught with lies and twisted truths; so much of what's produced in the name of health actually leads to destruction. Many people have told me that they go to yoga purely for the physical aspects of the practice, and up to this point, that's about all my classes have delivered. The longer I teach, I can't help but feel that I have a bigger responsibility to my students. It is not enough to not tell lies; one must tell the truth. One must cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.

I feel the risk of doing it poorly. I've never liked to hear myself talk, and I'm wary of bombarding my students with words that seem to have no connection to what's happening on their mats. My hope is that my students are better for having been to my class. I hope their bodies are stronger and more flexible, I hope they feel cared for, stay safe, and have fun, but mostly I hope that they are a little bit closer to true health.

Pet Sharks Beneath the Surface

I’ve never filled out a job application like this before. First of all, it is extensive. Four separate, multi-page Word documents to be completed, one of which has ended up being 11 pages long.

Second of all, it’s personal.

“Have you ever…”, “Do you ever…” “If so, when, for what duration, and how often?” “Does your spouse know?”

Third, they expect you to be completely open and honest. Have you ever applied for a job where it felt wrong to paint yourself in only rosy hues?

Most job applications and interviews assume some angling, strategically featuring your strong points while minimizing your weaknesses, or even making weaknesses sound like something positive. But here they actually want to know your skeletons in the closet and your pet sharks beneath the surface. And they want to know all of them.

In spite of the disclaimer on one section of the application that they are not trying to “measure spirituality,” I started to feel anxious, noticing all the ways I didn’t measure up. Am I good enough to be a missionary? Will they think I’m good enough? There are so many people who are simply better at life than I am, will they see any value in what I have to offer?

After answering question 7 on page 4, “What do you perceive to be your weaknesses?” (a very intimidating question for me if I’m to answer it in all honesty), I got to question 8: “What typically causes you the most stress and how do you respond to stress?”...Light bulb moment.

THIS causes me the most stress. Worrying that I’m not impressive enough to the people I’m trying to impress. Worrying that I’m not as impressive as “she” is and probably never will be.

Suddenly my worries seem so silly. Someone is in control of all this, and thank God it’s not me with all my faults or the people at Mission to the World with all theirs. It’s not like God is sitting around, trying to decide whether or not I’m good enough. We all fall short of “good enough,” and yet He makes use of us. He made me and knows me. He knows His plan for me, and if His plan is that David and I will go to Slovakia, then that is certainly what will happen, skeletons and pet sharks and all. If not, He’s got something else and that’s what’s right for us.

Pardon me while I go gather my references.

Brown bananas

It was the best banana bread I'd made in a long time.

It has been a crazy last couple of months. I've worked a lot, teaching two workshops, subbing classes and beginning to make yoga videos. We also have consistently woken up early and stayed up late, went out of town a couple times and spent 10 days homeless in our own city while we rented out our apartment for South by Southwest. It has been rewarding, fun, a bit of an adventure, and I would not have traded any of it for a bit more peace and calm.

But now I have no choice. A sea cannot only flow, it must also ebb. The cycle begins in a state of yang: expansion, energy, accomplishing an astonishing amount. Then comes chaos: becoming overextended, overwhelmed by the demands of production and schedule, unable to continue at the same pace. Finally, the inevitable state of yin: quiet, rejuvenation, nourishment of the body, mind, and soul.

For a while I do nothing more than what I must. When I am again ready to quietly assert control over my life, I make banana bread. Making banana bread says, "These bananas did not get eaten, and I am not in a frenzy, so I can respond to the situation and keep them from going to waste."

I plan to cook a lot this week. As I structure my days around breakfast, lunch, and dinner, cooking restores the sense of stability and order that was lost in the past weeks of frenetic activity and convenience eating.

It seems so appropriate that tomorrow is the spring equinox, the exact balance of day and night, as well as the first day of spring, the budding forth of the plantae and animalia kingdoms after a good deep rest. Now to see what the burgeoning of spring will bring!

Reason for Joy

We rented out our apartment for SXSW, so we stayed a few nights with our friend Catherine, who was house sitting for her parents. She and I were talking near the front door when her dog Penny hobbled toward us, watching us with hopeful eyes and slowly wagging her tail. Penny is a 15 year old lab (that's 105 in dog years!), graying around the muzzle and she now has a tumor growing on her back leg. Standing up, walking and laying down are all laborious and painful for her.

"You don't even know why you're wagging your tail," I said to her. And at that moment I was struck by the juxtaposition of Penny's increasingly decrepit body and her joyful, hopeful spirit. She lives in pain, but she isn't unhappy. Tail wagging is her default. Penny, what is the reason for the hope that is in you?

While I don't want to downplay the difference a good attitude can have in a person's life, I would like to make clear that I am not a proponent of blind optimism. In certain spheres I belong to, "perception is reality, so decide to be happy" is a popular mentality, but I have a hard time swallowing it. In fact, it somewhat rubs me the wrong way because it completely oversimplifies the human experience, illegitimizing real pain and sorrow and trivializing the life-long process of personal growth. What is the reason for your optimism? Or is it empty?

Human existence is more complex than canine existence. Penny may not need a reason to be joyful, but I do. Maybe this is why I tend to be so ruled by my circumstances. The folly is not that I need a reason to be ever-joyful; it's that I already have a reason, and yet I continue to demand one as if I didn't. What if I had actually learned, "in whatever situation I am to be content?" What if I actually lived in such a way that the people who know me wonder, as I did this weekend looking at Penny, "What is the reason for the hope that is in you?"

Slovakia

We're letting the cat out of the bag. We might be moving next year. To Slovakia...which is a country. In Eastern Europe.

David, who works for our church and has been a member of the missions committee for the for the past several years, got to know Kris Lundgaard (a missionary in Slovakia that our church supports) pretty well when Kris and his wife Paula were on furlough in Austin for 6 months. They just went back to Slovakia in January, and about three weeks ago Kris emailed David to say that there were exciting new things happening in Slovakia, and it made him think of us. Would we be willing to be recruited?

And here we are.

If we were to go, we would go to Kosice, the second largest city in the country, about a quarter million people. According those who have been, Slovakia is decidedly less affluent than the neighboring Czech Republic, and the architecture is a mixture of awesome old stuff like this:


and this:
...as well as leftover Soviet-era buildings like this:
From what I've heard, Slovakia does not appear much different than it was when it was a part of the Soviet Union, and it feels like a place in need of hope.

Thus far everything is extremely tentative. We shall see what does or does not come of it.

In response

In response to my own post, some encouraging reading has crossed my path the past couple days:

"But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed but not driven to despair; persecuted but not forsaken; struck down but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies." -2 Corinthians 4:7-10

and then this:

http://givenbreath.com/2012/01/06/513/#comment-219
"Don't let it steal your joy."