Unexpected Events

I had my skin cancer removed from my neck the other day. I had had it removed once before, actually twice before. The first time I had it frozen or burned off with liquid nitrogen. The second time I had it excised and stitched.

This time I had Mohs surgery, where they cut it out and stitch it. They examine what they cut out to make sure that there is no cancer anywhere around the area they examine or they go back and continue until everything is clear. Fortunately, she cut out plenty the first time so then she stitched it up. It is a rather large area, about 3 and a half inches on my neck to the back of my ear.

I didn't realize how long the incision would be. I knew it would be bigger than the last time, but it is really big. I remembered that it hurt a little afterward the last time and I was worn out a little, but you always forget things like that after time passes.

This time because the incision is so long, it really pulls when I turn my neck. I will really have to make adjustments and take special care when I return to yoga.

I've learned how far I've come in the last year in so many ways and how grateful I am about so many things. I'm grateful that I spent so much of my life in my teaching career, which allowed me to do the work I always wanted to do and loved to do.

I'm grateful that somehow that work also came with benefits that I never anticipated, mainly, the ability to retire early and even retire extra early because of my medical issues. I worked my ass off and gave my heart and soul during the 29 years I taught. But not many people get to retire as early as I have, even with the pay cut, and I have health insurance.

I have time to take care of myself. If I was still working, I wouldn't be able to train and rest the way I can now, which has completely changed my pain management, and my health and my disposition. After having the skin cancer procedure, I'm reminded how much my body doesn't bounce back from traumatic experiences the same way as other people's bodies do. I'm not allowed to exercise right now, and it's a good thing.

I've been sleeping until noon. I'm exhausted. I went out today for just a few hours. I just came home and I'm completely wiped out. It's the way I used to feel all the time, but without the allover pain. I do feel like my new healthier body and training has given me a better bounce back than I would have had previously.

I think i will recover from this faster and better than I would have before. But it is reminding me that I have to listen to my body. I can't rush back to training or yoga just to be cool. Khris told me not to rush, he said to look how far I've come and that we have plenty of time. That made me feel supported and good.

I didn't expect this little set back. I asked when I could exercise. I forgot to think about when I would be ready to exercise. But I know now that my body will guide me and Khris will guide me to do the proper things. I don't feel upset or deflated about this weird turn of events. If I lose a little bit of something when I return, I'll get it back soon enough.

Finding People and Finding Myself: A Lesson from Morgan

On The Walking Dead, one of my favorite characters is Morgan. He has gone through some deep transformations to try to keep himself going. Some very all or nothing ways of thinking and acting to deal with the loneliness and the harsh realities of what the apocalypse has taken from him.

In his clear phase, he thought he had to atone for his lack of courage by killing all of the zombies and even the other people in his path in order to rid the world of suffering that came with this plague. He thought that part of his punishment including living alone and watching all of the suffering.

Then he was taught a different way that was the other extreme: all life is precious. He tried to not kill any human even in self-defense. This extreme caused unexpected conflict with the very people he was trying to protect and those he loved, causing even more internal conflict and confusion.

Something Morgan said when he decided he needed to leave was that he loses people and then he loses himself. He clung to his Aikido and all life is precious because he was afraid of losing more people and of losing himself again.

As I thought about loneliness (from yesterday's post)  and I've been reading some books today about life and about happiness, I thought of Morgan. I believe that for me, when I find people, I lose myself. I need to find a way to find people and not lose myself.

Once you lose yourself, and focus on the needs and wants of other people or focus on the idea that other people and their reactions will somehow make you happy, then you become lost and lonely. Other people can't fill you and they can't be expected to.

It's an artificial high. And you need more and more to keep getting happy. There are always more zombies to clear. That doesn't mean I don't need people. I certainly do.  And they can make me happy to be around them. But I can't stop being happy when they aren't around.  I can't lose myself because I found them.

I think that's a lesson that has presented itself to me over and over and over in my life, and I'm finally understanding in a more profound way.  I can have friends that love me for who I am and love being around me when they are around me, but don't love me only for what I do for them or only in a one-sided way that I have to somehow keep afloat.

I can find people and find myself at the same time.

The Paradox of Loneliness

I've been feeling lonely for the last few weeks at times. I had a little lesson on the mat today during restorative yoga.

I know that yoga is about being in the moment and focusing on the breath. But being in the present in daily life has been something that has helped me so much in the last year and a half.

I think that I must have slipped a little in that focus on the present. I think that thinking too much about other people and maybe the future or things outside of my control can bring about that feeling of loneliness.

I spend a lot of time alone. I actually like being alone. That's not what makes me lonely. It's the thoughts that make me lonely. Things I wonder about. I wonder a lot. I wonder why people react to me the way they do. I wonder why people don't include me more.

I wonder why I am the way I am. It's tricky to want to be included and yet like to be alone. I wonder about how things will be in the future.  But as soon as I put myself in the future too much, when I wonder too much, I get into trouble.

When I am in yoga, I'm not lonely. Today when I was washing my workout clothes, I was not lonely. When I was cleaning my kitchen, I was not lonely. I was not lonely when I was taking my shower. I enjoyed watching some old episodes of The Walking Dead on the marathon and talking to people on Twitter.

I realized that I have to focus on myself to not be lonely. You'd think I'd have to find other people to not be lonely. But when I focus on other people, it's like being at yoga and watching everyone else's mat. That would be a horrible practice.

The more inward you go in yoga, the more at peace you become. The more you look outside yourself, the more insecure and anxious you become. Stay on your own mat! I need to stay on my own mat outside of class, too.

That doesn't mean I don't want to have friends and share things. It means when I think that looking to friends and sharing things is what is going to make me happy, I will lose my peace.

I need to go inward to become less lonely. Going inward can allow me to be present enough and available enough to go outward already happy and not lonely instead of  searching to become happy and not lonely.

KBuddah Training: It's Not Just a Workout is Not Just a Slogan

It's been almost a year since I started training with KBuddah Training! Recently I have been talking to a Walking Dead friend on Twitter who has been diagnosed with Fibromyalgia, Lupus and Rheumatoid Arthritis and is going through more tests after much distress trying to find out what was wrong with her and going through the crushing fatigue and pain that is familiar to people with chronic pain or any systemic or autoimmune condition.

She expressed her fear. A fear I remember well. Not knowing what was going to happen in your future. At the time you're finally diagnosed and taken seriously, you've been fighting through it and pushing yourself in silence for a good long time. You are used to making adjustments to make it through your days without letting on that you don't know how you're going to make it through the next day, never-mind thinking about how to deal with the future.

You are used to just not mentioning the pain. You are used to people judging. You are used to people giving every piece of advice they've ever heard or read, and you really get the feeling it is not advice to help you, but rather advice to get you to stop mentioning it. You are used to hearing that you just need to push yourself and lose weight and that everyone gets tired.

The weirdest part of this for me now as I talk to her is that I have empathy and I can relate from memory, but I have no emotional attachment anymore to those things because it has been so long since I've experienced them myself. I still get a little bit of people not understanding that my definition of pacing myself and rest is different from the normal person's. And that my definition of tired is a little different.

But even my own tired is not the crippling, incomprehensible fatigue that I used to experience. The last time I can remember crying from fatigue was actually about a year ago after I moved into my new place and I was out with my nephew, Jack. I remember telling him, that it wasn't him. He knew that. He's smart. I said, I'm just tired and in pain from the big move.

At that time I had lost almost 40 pounds. Losing weight hadn't helped my pain or exhaustion much at all. Then came training. I started slowly--twice a week. I trained and rested and that's about all I did. In a matter of a few short weeks, my pain subsided. This blog chronicles many of my experiences with emotional releases and all sorts of things that have happened as I've trained this last year.

Having my pain subside was most unexpected! I just wanted to lose some more weight. I anticipated training twice a week, resting, maybe gaining a little more energy and toning my body a little and getting out of the house to do something, but still being in pain and being exhausted. I never imagined I'd be doing the stuff I'm doing.

Now I train 3 times a week. I go to yoga 2-3 times a week and I go to circuit classes 2-3 times per week. My diet is under control, pretty clean, and I never feel overfull or uncomfortable. I don't eat sugar at all in the form of candy, cake, cookies, ice cream, etc., which I remember caused intense flares a few days afterward, but sugar used to be so comforting and it used to wake me up.  As far as inexplicable Fibro pain now, my pain is essentially non-existent.

Training has changed everything. It's an experience that can't be explained. It really isn't just a workout. If you think about most of the things that have been life-changing experiences, whether they lasted an hour, a day or years, if you are pressed to say how or why they changed you, often you have to say, it's hard to explain.

Those are the best experiences. The ones that need no explanation and defy explanation. That are felt. That are just known. That somehow just happened. That when you try to explain them, you are either speechless and shrug and stammer an "I don't know," or you just go on an on trying to explain it and nothing even comes close to the real reason or explaining it adequately.

KBuddah Training: It's not just a workout; it's a bonding experience. It doesn't just change your body; it changes everything.

More Paradox: Why Personal Training is an Introvert's Dream

Before I started training, I never thought I would like a personal trainer. I thought it would be the worst thing possible for me as an introvert. I don't like spotlight. I'm not motivated by external approval or accountability. Often it's irritating to me; I don't like having to explain myself to other people. I don't like to be pushed or yelled at to do things I don't want to do; I'm very independent.

Now that I'm training, the things I thought I'd hate, I either love or they are not what I thought they'd be. Introverts don't like spotlight, but we like to be recognized and noticed in subtle ways and we like to enjoy time with people one on one. 

Training is one on one. The spotlight isn't so bright that way. It's not the spotlight that you get when the focus is on you in front of a big group. This is very relaxed. It's personal. Introverts love personal. 

You'd think an introvert would love working out alone, but the paradox for me is that I hate working out alone. I don't mind hiking or kayaking alone sometimes, but I hate working out at the gym alone. I love classes, group training, yoga and especially personal training. 

In classes, yoga and group training, I still get to occupy my own space and have my own connection with the instructor, but I get to have someone guide me through the workout and give me cues and I get to experience the work. 

When I go back to the information about the hero role in families of alcoholics, we don't know how to be part of groups. We know how to lead, but we don't know how to be part of the group. As an introvert, being in training and in classes is an in-between. I'm part of a group that I'm not leading, but I'm still by myself. 

I'm getting the attention that I didn't get as a kid and that I don't get when I'm the leader giving the attention. But it's not too much attention that it's embarrassing or overwhelming. 

I'm still learning how to be part of a group. But my introverted nature loves the personal attention that I get with personal training. I love the meditative nature of it. I don't feel like I'm being watched, but rather I feel like I'm being cared for and attended to and encouraged. 

It's not about yelling at me to motivate me to get to some magic result. That's ego. That's the ego of the trainer. This is about respect for me and for the activities and for the trainer. Respect for body. For being gentle and caring and focused and calm and strong. 

The most interesting paradox is that although I'm not really motivated by external forces--I won't do better because someone is yelling at me or because someone will be disappointed if I don't or someone says to keep trying, I actually will do better when I have someone leading me and paying gentle attention to me. 

I like having the guidance and direction and support. I like having someone tell me where to put my feet and how to adjust my form. I like having someone be aware that I am there. I like being attended to. I like not being the leader. I like having a leader. And as an introvert, I don't fight it. I accept it. I enjoy it. I receive it. I actually crave it. Beautiful paradox. 

Beautiful Paradox: Meditation and HIIT Lessons

I love the word paradox. I especially like the concept that things can contradict themselves in a beautiful way, if you let them.

I just started reading a book about Buddhism and meditation. There is so much paradox in there. Just reading it is a meditation labyrinth. Meditation itself is a paradox: letting go, clearing your mind and watching your thoughts in order to bring clarity and focus and be present.

One paradox for me with meditation has always been that I'm not a visual person. I don't paint pictures in my mind. I don't visualize well at all. I'm very abstract. My pictures are more Picasso than Monet and even Picasso is more realistic than my visualization. I visualize in very blurred, unfinished and undetailed fashion.

That makes it difficult to follow guided meditations when they tell you to imagine being in a field of flowers or being at the beach or imagine being grounded into the earth and you are rooted like a tree.

The paradox comes because I am very auditory. I am lulled by words and voices. So even though the purpose is to have me visualize, I am able to get the result from the words and the voice and by saying the words in my head and focusing on my body without the actual pictures.

I can't really imagine being pulled from the top of my head with a string, but those words allow me to understand the concept and my body knows to lift my chest and get taller. My head knows to pull higher from the crown as if there were someone pulling it up, even though I'm not able to really visualize it that way. Beautiful paradox.

It's beautiful because I don't allow the fact that I'm not a visualizer to get in the way of me getting the results I want. Many times when reading about meditation, even in this current book, people get frustrated with meditation because they don't feel like they are successful at meditation, which is the greatest paradox in itself.

Meditation is about letting go of the idea of success and failure and letting go of stress. Letting go of stress and anxiety. Letting go, period. The hints people give you to get there such as focusing on your breath or clearing your mind or watching your thoughts are just that--hints. They are ways to help you let go. They are not mandates for successful meditation.

If you get mad at yourself because you forget to focus on your breath or mad because it seems like your meditation is boring or mad because you can't seem to clear your mind, you are not failing at meditation, you are failing at understanding what meditation is. You are still successful at meditation because you are thinking about trying to meditate and you are in that moment! Beautiful paradox.

The other day Khris set up a HIIT (High Intensity Interval Training)  workout for me for training. At one point I was moving from one thing to the next and he said, "The workout is high intensity, not you." Beautiful paradox.

I don't need to be frantic to achieve the high intensity. The workout does that for me. The intensity comes from the activities, not being frantic. I still need to be slow and deliberate. I still need to inhale, brace and exhale. As soon as I start being crazed and moving and breathing too quickly, the workout becomes less effective and less intense because I'm not focused.

I need to take these lessons into life as well. I'm going to clean my house today. I need to be patient and focus. I don't need to be frantic. It will all get done. I need to take breaks when I need to take breaks. I need to enjoy and pay attention to the chore I am on when I am on it. Then when things are finished, I will enjoy the results.

That's a good mantra for life. The workout is high intensity. Not me.

P.S. After this blog entry was posted, this screenshot from Happier at Home by Gretchen Rubin about the Paradoxes of Happiness showed up in my Facebook memories!!

I'm Tired I Have To Push Through This

Perspective. When I started working out last August I decided that if all I could do was workout, eat, and rest, then that's what I would do. At that point I had already decided in January to start focusing on myself and focusing on living in the present. I had decided to push through my Fibro pain and fatigue in my own way.

This morning when I was doing push-ups. I asked Khris why I can't do them better. My push-ups are not pretty.  I'm nice and flat. I have good position. I don't stick my butt up or round my back or anything. I just can't lower myself down very far and still push myself back up. It's like I do half push-ups. I can do about 10 of those, sometimes.  I can do knee pushups a little lower.

He said because I'm tired. I do them in the middle of the workout after other things like battle ropes and chest presses.

He said instead of thinking why can't I do them better, I should just always think, I'm tired; I'm going to need to push myself through these.

It's funny. I love the variety of things we do in training. We move from one thing to the next all the time. The trainers on the internet and television do things and say 50 reps.

I've never done anything for 50 reps except for kettlebell swings and I don't do 50 very often. It's usually 10-15 and then something else and then 10-15 more.

It only takes 10 walkouts or burpees to get me sweating and working hard, especially if it's part of the entire workout. And while I love the fun and creative things the most, it's the basic things, like push-ups, that give me an idea of how I'm doing.

At home, it's the cool variety of things that are the most fun: reading, or blogging, or shopping, or swimming,  but it's the basic things like laundry and cleaning and resting that let me know how I'm doing.

I have to change my perspective. I used to only do knee push-ups. Now I do knee push-ups and regular push-ups. I used to train twice a week. Now I train 3 times a week and go to classes 2 or 3 times a week and yoga 2 or 3 times a week.

I used to have a hard time taking a shower once a week. Now I take showers 2-4 times a week. I wash my workout clothes every week. I'm no longer in much pain. I'm happier. I'm way stronger in every way than I was a year ago.

When I look around and wonder why I'm not keeping up with my housework or why I don't have it in me sometimes to do more, I have to think, I'm tired, I have to push through this. I'm going to be tired sometimes and pushing through this looks and feels different now.