What is underneath your compulsions? It takes THESE 15 minutes to change your life

What is underneath your compulsions? It takes THESE 15 minutes to change your life

Today’s post is about those seconds and minutes between the moment you are triggered and the moment you act. It is those exact, rich, beautiful, scary, moments that can change your life. I described these moments for you as seen through Zuri’s life (Zuri’s Eyes) and then explain the psychology of it (The Process).

Zuri’s Eyes: Zuri’s Brother Eric is in Trouble

Things have been going okay for a while. Zuri has been watching the TV and monitoring the situation in Nairobi. She has been praying for the Kenya people every day. Her mom never did come home Saturday night. At 11:00 AM Sunday morning, she walked in with groceries as if nothing had happened. Zuri is used to this and, like always, Zuri tried to hide the hurt in her eyes as she listened to her mom go on and on about how her Aunt Jasmine “thinks she all that….” Well, they had groceries and her mom was some so…

This week was a so-far-so-good week. She, Eric, and Rashan got to school and her mom to work on both Monday and Tuesday. The news came late Tuesday night. There had been a shooting. A 16 year-old was dead and a 22 year-old injured. The police were not releasing the child’s name until the family had been notified. Zuri ran to check on Eric. Ahhh, phew, he was buried in his bed. He threw a pillow at her, “Get out of here Zuri!”

Early Wednesday morning they heard on the TV that it was Thomas that died. Three streets over, Eric’s friend. Thomas was a pretty good kid, but he had been hanging out with some of the kids who were into trouble, really bad trouble. The news said he was an innocent bystander of an attempted murder. The police believe that the target was the 22 year-old who suffered a gunshot wound to the hand and was in recovery at Erie County Medical Center. Thomas, it was said, was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Zuri felt like she had heard that a hundred times. Eric was a mess.

The day of the funeral, Zuri, her mom, and Rashan were dressed and ready to go. Zuri went upstairs to get Eric. He was refusing to go.

Their mom yelled, “Come on! We are late.”

Zuri hollered back, “Me and Eric will catch up with you. You go.”

Eric sat holding a bottle of vodka, seal on. He was crying and rocking back and forth.

“Zuri, get out of here.”

She said, “No Eric, I won’t.”

He said, “I am going to drink this whole damn thing. I don’t care any more. It’s not okay. Thomas is dead. He didn’t do anything to anyone…..God, Zuri, get our of here!”

She felt that feeling she feels when her mom pushes her away so that she can drink. It was so familiar. It was a deep ache in her chest and a worry in her belly.

“Eric that is what mom and dad do when they think they are not strong enough, they drink. We don’t have to be that way. We don’t. You are my big brother. You are the strong one. You take care of all of us and make sure we are okay. I need you to NOT do this. She held his hands and looked into his eyes. Eric, I love you so much (they were broth crying now). I can’t lose you like we have lost mom and dad—and now Thomas is gone—all for this sh#%. Because no one thinks they are strong enough.” Zuri had been reading from the books and notes in the yoga bag. She had confidence in her words.

Eric let the bottle roll off the bed. “F#%$ it,” he said.

(For an amazing poet [warning lots of strong language and descriptions of violence] on the violence in the inner city watch

Jasmine Mans - " I Know you Didn't Mean to Kill Him" http://youtu.be/AC1wGvPnTl8)

And then he sobbed. He held his face in his hands and he cried for Thomas. Zuri rubbed his back, tears running down her face. It was 10 maybe 15 minutes that passed. Eric looked up at Zuri and said, “Let’s go. Thomas’s family needs us.”

Zuri and Eric headed out the front door. Zuri, look at Eric, nervous. “Uh, I forget my purse, Hold on.” Eric said, “Hurry.”

Zuri ran upstairs and hid the bottle of vodka in her closet, in the yoga bag, and grabbed her purse. Feeling safer, she ran to meet Eric.

The funeral was so very sad, heart-wrenchingly sad. Sometimes Zuri thought she couldn’t breathe. Afterword, Thomas’s family and friends met in the basement of the church. There was food. Kids were telling stories about Thomas. Family and friends held Thomas's mother and sisters. They had glued photos on poster boards and placed the jerseys and awards from his sports on the tables. It was really nice and really hard. 

After, Zuri and Eric walked home together. She leaned into his side and he placed his arm around her shoulders.

“I love you Eric.”

”I love you too Zuri.”

The Process

There is this moment between the time that you are triggered and when you act (or not) that is so completely powerful. Kim Chernin, a famous feminist writer spoke quite effectively about this.* A pioneer, she addressed eating disorders in the 1980s. She spoke of this exact, formative moment between urge and action in her book, “The Hungry Self: Women, Eating, and the Search for identity.”

“The first time I tried to deliberately hesitate before I ate I found that I was scarcely able to drag myself to my study to grab a pen. The urgency I felt, the pressure of the unknown force, made my hands shake. I wanted to move and act and eat and swallow. I wanted cookies and chocolate and gobs of peanut butter. How could I sit at my desk, how could I hold back the frenzied rush, how could I think?” (Chernin, 1985, page 151).

It was in these moments that Kim, herself, battled her own eating disorder. She forced herself, in the moments that she was triggered, to fight for the voice underneath the symptoms. She-- time after time- went to her desk and wrote. At first one word, maybe two, and after a while a cluster of words, and then an image, and then a memory. Over time and after many so-called, failed attempts, she was able to unearth an incredibly powerful image that was driving her compulsion. Underneath her bingeing and purging was a complicated, confusing, interpersonal struggle that she had been avoiding for years.

We take ourselves out in so many ways. Like Eric, holding the bottle afraid to face his friend’s funeral. We don’t blame or judge him. We all “hold on to a bottle” of some kind or another, our own crutch, our go-to thing. For some of us, it’s shopping, fighting with our loved ones, binge eating, smoking, or painkillers—in fact there are thousands of ways you can take yourself out. Like they say in AA, there is no problem a drink can’t make worse. True for all the of the other vices. You are already here and it’s hard. You don’t need to add your compulsions and addictions, they complicate things and take you out.

Stay. Like Eric. Connect with someone you love. Hold his or her hands and try. Then, get out there. Get to yoga. Go for a run. Make a healthy choice and be in your life for the better of it and when it’s worse. Be in it. You will be amazed how strong you are and how much you can handle.

You may also learn some pretty powerful stuff about yourself- because in the staying is all of the rich, gorgeous, thick, stuff—and it is worth every ounce of your trying. And on the way home, arm and arm with someone you love, take a deep breath in and smile.

See you in the game:)

Namaste,

Catherine

* Chernin, K. (1985). The hungry self: Women, eating, and identity. New York, NY: Random House.  

If Your Dreams Don’t Scare YOU……. lululemon Ambassador LOVE

If Your Dreams Don’t Scare YOU……. lululemon Ambassador LOVE

“If your dreams don’t scare you, they are not big enough”

Ellen Johnson Sirleaf

Zuri has Dreams

Zuri sees so many women in her life and what she sees terrifies her. Many of them are lost, addicted, and can’t seem to pull themselves up. Zuri knows they have good reason. Life is not easy where she lives.

The things that come easy are not healthy and the things that will serve your soul are hard to find.

You can’t even get good food easily in her neighborhood. When she grocery shops with her mom, they have to drive out of the neighborhood and back in. They pick up Zuri's and two cousins. It takes half the day Sunday once they get done driving everyone home and sorting all the groceries out. It is hard. School feels crazy. The teachers (not Mrs. Klein or Miss Ely) but some of them are discouraged and frustrated. Seems like some of her teachers need to spend as much time trying to manage behavior as they do trying to teach. 

Sometimes following your dreams feels like walking through the mud all day.

But Zuri sees Mrs. Klein. She sees her Aunt Jasmine. She sees her mom when her mom is doing well. She sees Miss Ely at school. She sees these women. It is this seeing that helps her believe that things are possible. Mrs. Klein teaches her that no matter how big the problem, there are ways to take the next step forward. Her Aunt Jasmine manages one of the banks downtown and got her MBA. She is powerful. Her mom has been through a lot and even though she struggles, she knows her mom loves her. Miss Ely, the science teacher, is an inspirational woman who Zuri thinks may be one of the smartest people she has ever met. Yeah, she sees things that scare her-- everyday. With her heart and her eyes, Zuri sees these women too. 

Yesterday in school Miss Ely started the class with this quote, “If your dreams don’t scare you, they are not big enough,” Ellen Johnson Sirleaf.

Miss Ely told the class that Ellen Johnson Sirleaf was awarded the 2011 Nobel Peace Prize with two other women. These women were recognized for their non-violent efforts for the safety of women and for women’s rights to full participation in peace-building work.

Miss Ely told Zuri and her class that no matter what their circumstances, that they should set their dreams high. Miss Ely told them that it is about setting dreams and making it happen everyday. She said  that if the dream is big enough, they will feel a little scared. She told them to do two things: (1) set their eyes on a dream, and (2) do their work. Miss Ely asked the class to take out their notebooks and write down what they would like to do in their lives if there were no limits. She asked them to write three dreams, three possibilities. 

I watch Zuri as she flips the pages of her notebook to the very back. This is where she writes things that are just for her. She wraps her fingers around the pen and presses the pen into the paper. She slowly writes, “My Dreams.” Then, she writes: [1] I will be a High School Teacher (like Miss Ely), [2] I will be Powerful (like Aunt Jasmine), and [3]  I will be a Leader (like Ellen Johnson Sirleaf).

She smiles for the first time since Eric got home. I see her look up and out the window of her classroom. She is thinking, “What if I could follow these dreams? What if I could?” and in that moment she was scared—the good scared—the scared that Ellen Johnson Sirleaf was talking about. “Yes!” thought Zuri, “I am right where I need to be.”

The Process

I saw this quote for the first time on the lululemon Buffalo Showroom web page. It was one of the most inspiration things I have ever read. Tomorrow I am teaching a complimentary yoga class at Power Yoga Buffalo and this will be the theme:

“If your dreams don’t scare you, they are not big enough”

Ellen Johnson Sirleaf

I scare myself on a daily basis. I do. I am not just writing that. It is Satya- truth. I have big dreams. 

I was raised on big dreams. I am the oldest of five children. My dad is a retired Navy Officer. He was a Navy Pilot (think landing on an aircraft carrier). I know for sure his dreams scared him. As he was in the military, he trained to be a teacher and then later a school administrator. He retired a superintendent of schools. My mom was a nurse who later stayed home to raise us. When my brother Stephen was born with Down Syndrome mom was completely inspired to go back to school and become an English Teacher. She went back to college and worked a full career as a teacher. By example and in words, my parents raised me to dream big. Their example was the entire recipe- the two ingredients: (1) big dreams, and (2) daily hard work.

My dreams scare me because they are outside of my comfort zone. I dream big and then I work, just like mom and dad.

So here is your homework:
 

1.     Get out your notebook and your pen.

2.   Sit down like Zuri, flip to the back of your notebook, press the pen into the paper, and write, “My Dreams.”

3.     Now write!

4.     Then, the important part. Dream, Be Scared, and Work!

“If your dreams don’t scare you, they are not big enough:

Ellen Johnson Sirleaf

Namaste,

Catherine

For an overview in the people in Zuri's life fo here:
http://theyogabag.blogspot.com/p/zuris-people-overview-of-poeple-is.html

Be Here Now

Be Here Now

“Be here now. This is the only place you need to be. And from this place all things are possible.”

Baron Baptiste

Zuri Isn’t Here

Zuri has been reading my “Yoga Notes” almost every night. She likes the notes, quotes, and funny figure drawings of yoga poses. She thinks one day she would like to take a yoga class.

She keeps thinking of one of the quotes she read, “Be here now. This is the only place you need to be. And from this place all things are possible.”

Zuri is never really here. She is always in her head. She worries so much about tomorrow or is so sad about yesterday. That is what she does. The result, she is never here.

The future is terrifying. She is always waiting to hear whether or not something has or has not happened to her brother, Eric. Every night she worries that when she gets up her mom will be lying on the couch, again, with a wine glass and an empty bottle right next to her on the coffee table. She worries she’ll have to wake her mom for work and her mom will yell at her. She worries that she will be late for school because she’s trying to get her little brother, Rashan, ready for school. She worries.

The past is not much better, if you look at the dark places, if you remember. Zuri remembers. She remembers all of the time. Her dad left them after Rashan was born. That is when her mom took a turn for the worst. Lucky for Rashan Zuri was there. Some days her mom didn’t get out of bed at all and when she did it was to run to the liquor store. Zuri made things look okay for everyone. She held all of it together. Eric was just angry. That is when he started struggling too.

So, it was Zuri.

It’s been a few years. Rashan is five and her mom is back to work. Zuri’s mom only drinks at night now and sometimes Zuri can pour out her wine without her mom noticing. When you compare right now to her past and to the future, things are okay. The hard part is the worrying and the remembering. She get’s so in her head that sometimes when people talk to her, she doesn’t respond, “What? Sorry? What?” She is never really here.

I see her as she walks into school, into the hallway, into her homeroom. The announcements start. Students talk and Zuri stares ahead, lost in her head, lost in the future and the past. She is not there.  

Zuri recalls the quote, “Be here now. This is the only place you need to be. And from this place all things are possible.” She wants to be here. She wants to be here now. She has a sense that if she could be here, all things really could be possible.

Zuri sets her mind to try.

The Process

We only have this moment. This moment right now. Essentially, there is no past. The past is the sum of our recollections of this moment. If we aren't here, really here, the past is degraded, our memories are just fuzzy pictures taken from an out-of focus camera. The math works this way, if you are not here now, there is no past. Likewise, the future depends on our presence. If you are not here, really here, there is nothing for the future to stand on. It’s like trying to stand on a pile of dry sand. You slide. There is nothing firm, no support for your dreams.

That is that. It all, ALL OF IT, counts on right now. The past, the future, all of it.

Zuri better get it. She’s 13. There are so many memories to be made and so much potential for her future. I want it all for her. Beautiful rich memories and a bright future grounded on a firm base. Yes, I do. I want it all for her. And you know what else? I want it for you. While we are at it, I want it for me.

So how about all of us take a deep breath, stand firmly in our feet, our own two grounded feet, and be here now. And from this place, right here, NOW, all things are possible.

Namaste,

Catherine

For an overview of the people in Zuri's life fo here:

http://theyogabag.blogspot.com/p/zuris-people-overview-of-poeple-is.html

THE YOGA BAG BLOG Birth Story

September 7, 2013

Happy Birthday to my new blog! 

THE YOGA BAG!!!

Yoga- The most effective pathway to intergration and stilling of the mind. The essential pathway to self-love.

Bag- a non-rigid container.

Let me tell you how this baby was conceived. 

On July 11, 2013 I was helping Susan Russel and Gary Steeves help yoga blossom at Resurrection Church on Doat Street, near Goodyear on the East-side of Buffalo. Keri Sikora, Amy Green, Alexis Asquith, Rachel Cahill, and Katie Bassennello were also helping. For six weeks we taught yoga at the Resurrection Church summer camp. It was fantastic and wild-- both at the same time.

On this Thursday, my mind was full of many things. I had just met with colleagues on a study we were finishing up on eating disorders, priming, and decision making. I was going to help teach yoga at Ressureciton and then head out to teach yoga to the Amherst High School Swim Team. I had secured my office and business in order to clear things for our trip to Africa on Monday. So much on my mind and so much in my car. 

I walked into the summer school and started chatting with the other teachers. Susan Russel wanted to play "With My Own Two Hands" for savasana. I said that this was great and I had a Bose speaker in my car, IN MY YOGA BAG. I ran out to my car to grab the bag.

It is funny how these things come to your awareness. I saw my car. Something was not right. Then, I opened my door. The passenger side window was smashed, glass dispersed across the inside of the car into the street. The green glass had caught the midday light and was shimmering. My brief case was gone.  Blessing of blessings, my purse was still hidden under the driver's side seat- passports, drivers' license, credit cards all secure. Relief and then awareness of what was else missing. My yoga bag was gone.

We called the police and two young men from the church scoured the neighborhood with me. No luck. As I walked the things I had lost rolled into my awareness. My daily planner. My private practice schedule. Photos of my children, baby photos from the day they were born. Book contracts. Research notes. Ugh. I was overwhelmed.

My thoughts turned to the yoga bag. Actually, as I write now I am sad. My stomach aches and I feel a weight on my chest. Loss. It's heavy. The yoga bag contained my Bose speaker- no biggy- I knew I could buy a new one. My itouch with yoga play lists too- was gone- replaceable.

Then the painful stuff. My annotated sutras, "How to Know God" annotated during my training with the Himalayan Institute. McNally and Roach's Yoga Sutras- Annotated the first time I read, "How Yoga Works" and eveytime I cited the sutras in class I had dated and noted the sutras. The Bahgavad Gita- Gandhi's interpretation, annotated from the work I did with my Baptiste Certification. My handmade Mala beads, many times meditated on and now gone.  Notebooks of notes and plans for yoga classes. My lululemon journal from the Ambassador Leadership Summit and the igolu notebook with the how-to-change-your-life roadmap. Years of quotes and flows and ideas. Lost.

The saddest loss was my mantra written for me by Rolf Sovik when I received it the previous fall at the Himalayan Institute. It is completely private and gone.

At first, I was just sad. I had to replace some things like my yellow fever card for our trip to Africa. I thanked God many times for my purse and the blessing of not having to get a new passport in 3 days. Amy Green stopped by my house and gave me her beautiful mala beads. So beautiful for many reasons. Then....

The fantasy...... I imagine that some young people had broken into my car. They ran fast to get the goods out of sight. I watched as they made their way to one of their houses and ran upstairs, out of the view of their parents to go through the stuff. The brief case was nice, they would agree. Leather and in good condition This could be sold, they would agree. The planner- toss it. Book contracts, notes- garbage, they would agree. Then, they unzipped the yoga bag. Nice, a Bose speaker. This could be kept or sold and was new, perfect. They saw the itouch old model- maybe they'd get a little for that. They would scan the songs and wonder, maybe laugh. The books, the notes, the Mala beads, not worth much. They left those in the bag and tossed it aside. 

The goods stowed in one of their own backpacks, they headed out to see what they could get. 

The yoga bag sits. The notes, the igolu road maps, the yoga sutras with notes, the Gita with notes, the quotes and interpretations..... these all sit there. Days pass. Weeks pass. The bag gets kicked to the side, maybe even under a bed. Waiting.....

One day, a girl. Maybe a sister or cousin sees the bag and asks one of the theives "Can I have this? I love this bag." Answer, "Yeah, sure."

She takes it to her room and begins to look and read and wonder. She knows her brother has been in trouble. She worries about him. Her mom is always stressed and works too hard and dad has a new girl friend and family three streets over. She's anxious most days, every day. This yoga bag, these books are different, strange. They make her worry. Where did my brother get this? I should tell mom. I better not tell mom. She shoves the bag under her bed. Its hers now and she, for some reason-- no reason, has a sense that it is okay that it is hers.

As I miss my things, I see her read. When I wonder about my mantra, I see the perfectly folded paper and the careful penmanship in her hands. As a write new yoga classes and try to remember my journal writing, I see her anxious hands and her right hand, first finger tracing words as she reads. She brings me peace of mind. I wish I wish that when I was little and scared that I had a yoga bag like she does now, a bag full of things that would teach me how to be okay. A bag full of stuff that would teach me how to trust myself and to trust others.

Then today. It came to me. The Yoga Bag-- it was real and it was not going to be shoved under her bed anymore. It was going to be this blog. And anyone who is scared or wondering about how to do this thing called life, well I will tell you what was in my bag. I will also add to the bag.

As I have been told, "Life does not happen to you, it happens for you." I am grateful for this door opening and for my yoga bag-- lost and found. I am thankful for the little girl who showed up in my mind to help my deal with this material loss and make good of it. As I write, I am headed into some hard years. I imagine, I will be facing real fear and real loss. Accordingly, I am grateful for The Yoga Bag showing up for me right now.

Namaste,

Catherine Cook-Cottone

An overview of the people in Zuri's life go here
http://theyogabag.blogspot.com/p/zuris-people-overview-of-poeple-is.html

AYP Research Mission Entry Seven: July 23, 2013 Sthira and Sukham- Grace (steadiness and ease) and Research

Entry Seven: July 23, 2013

Sthira and Sukham- Grace (steadiness and ease) and Research

 Webster’s Definition of GRACE: unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration or sanctification

Yoga Sutra 2.46: sthira sukham asanam, or “the postures should have both steadiness and ease.”

 Each day in my life seems to have a thread, maybe even a sutra, you might say. Today it was grace. Webster says it is unmerited divine assistance given to humans for their regeneration and sanctification. With divine coming from within, the yoga sutras offer us steadiness and ease—ahhh GRACE. To me, that is grace.

 Musa led yoga today, with grace. Our practice was steady, aligned, sequenced, and purposeful. With equanimity, we laughed as much as we centered. Musa, I wonder, may not know how skilled he is in his teaching. His words land masterfully in our bodies. His voice offered steadiness and ease and we gave back what he provided—grace (steadiness and ease).

 We had a huge task ahead. When working with the teacher brainstorming data, our whole team took more than a day (well into the night) to complete the distillation of data into representative items for the sorting and rating (Phase II). Our charge today was to complete this process for both child students and adult students within less time. That is, two times the work with less time. 

We worked out a strategy that we all agreed upon and began after breakfast. We created a two-stage working process. The first stage was with 4 sets of research assistants each with Kenyan researchers and US researchers. Each team was charged with going through all of the data from half of either the adult or the student brainstorming data. Nan (leader), Steve, and Joyce were Team 1 for child student data. They handled all of the data for special needs children (i.e., orphanage, blind and deaf schools). Team 2 was Jerry, Irene, and I (leader). We handle all of the data for the rest of the children (all students under 15 years old). Team 3 was Carla (leader), Brooke, Jamo, and Louis, who handled adult data. Team 4 was Jessalyn (leader), Susan, Musa and Wanji who processed the other half of the adult’s data. By noon each of the four subgroups had distilled their respective data down into items by categories ready for the smaller teams to create surveys and sorting cards. This process is not easy. You read note after note, child writing after child writing, student idea after student idea, creating items. You debate and challenge each other and come to terms with a set of ideas. You must be steady and easy. That is, you must be full of grace. Today as all of the other days so far, each team manifested both grace and a solid commitment to our intention. They did their work and did it well, all honoring the big stuff we are up to.

We took a break for lunch. Half of the research team headed to the city to the markets. They had worked hard and had the rest of the day off. The other half headed to the Artist Coop Kuonartist Art Center led be Jamo and joined by Louis. I will post photos (I am having trouble posting on Facebook- keep your eyes open for these photos). This place was incredible. We are all going back to the Art Center tomorrow to buy art. It is more than I could imagine in terms of beauty and meaning- await further info- you will be moved. I can say right now that Jerry and I will be buying a piece from an interactive art-work called “Tower of Babble.” Nan and Carla made BIG FRIENDS. Sadly, we had to leave in a hurry to finish our work before the printing deadline.

A quick lunch led to the final stage of item distillation. Nan, Joyce, and I completed the child final item list and Jessalyn, Carla, and Jamo finished the adult student final item generation list. This takes hours of interactive negotiation and evaluation. It takes grace.

Ahhh- what a beautiful word and we shined!

We got our first print job in the email by early afternoon. The second, third, four and fifth followed at steady equal intervals. Angie went to the copy center to monitor the process. As you can expect with any research project, there are road  bumps. The copy shop printed many, many sorting cards two-sided. This does not work as each card must be sorted individually. The copies must be one-sided. So, Angie had to work with the print shop to negotiate the corrections. This is not fun or easy and we are so grateful to Angle for her strength and grace in making this happen in time for us to move forward.

Like any good research team, we waited to hear what was happening with a glass of wine and lots of water for hydration (this is Africa). After a few hours, we were happy to hear that we had secured success. Zak, the driver, arrived with the bounty (we now call our baby) and we rejoiced (with not as much grace at this point- haha).

We spent A LOT of time making sure our schedule was set and made sure we would get to all of our outreaches for Phase II. Brooke and Susan are going to be preparing 300 packets before we go to outreach and to the Shine Center. All is set and good. Tomorrow is a regeneration day (hmmm, what did Webster say about grace?). And you must keep an eye out for our “waiting-for-copies” time together photos. It was fun.

 And so I close another night in Africa, beautiful, unpredictable Africa. I can say that the one thing that I have been able to predict this whole trip, is the commitment and grace of our team and the staff of AYP. The divine energy that comes from a higher power and within has seen us through so far and we are all gratitude.

 I am also grateful for my team, for Angie Wilkins, for Zak, and for all the people that we miss and who are missing us back in the USA (Hey Chloe and Maya – I love you and Daddy loves you).

 Namaste,

 Catherine