The Importance of Being Irrelevant

Being a yoga teacher is not unlike being a parent. New yoga students, like children,  enter into your life with 100% trust in you. They trust you to nurture them, they trust you to teach them "right from wrong" and they trust you to prevent them from harm. This is exactly why many of us become teachers and parents. We are ready to share our acquired knowledge. We long to educate those who are looking for guidance. We want to witness the growth of others. We want to have relevance in the lives of others.

The danger in both being a parent and a teacher is in our not seeing the importance of becoming irrelevant. As a parent, the sting of adolescence can be come profoundly painful if  we don't realize that it is our job to see our children's sudden pushing away as a mark that they are on the right path. Most often, profound periods of growth immediately follow a period of resistance and discomfort. Like the chick hatching from the egg, or the sprout busting out of the seed casing to rise through the soil and reach for the sun so is the process of human growth. It is not easy.

As teachers, parents and mentors of any kind it is our job to be there during this process and to allow for the discomfort, the resistance and the push-back without letting our ego get in the way. All too often we are at risk of interpreting this natural growth process as a mark that there is either something wrong with us--or with them. I can easily call to mind the periods of time when I thought my parents were complete idiots, began to notice flaws in my therapist and found myself rolling my eyes in yoga class. The process of simultaneously learning to stand on our own two feet while testing someone's commitment to being there for us is very scary indeed. As parents, teachers and mentors we are the shepherds in others' journey toward independence and self sufficiency. It is when we can bask in the glory of this uncomfortable, messy and ultimately empowering process that we are truly supporting our students and our children. It is precisely when we stop seeming like heroes in the eyes of our children and students that we know we have done our job well.

In my role as both teacher and mother the intention is the same: help the people who are looking to me for guidance find their own guiding inner voice. One bitter pill that parents must swallow is the acceptance that we do not have total control over the well being of our children. As the mother of a teenager I found myself panicking when I realized that my child was now at the age when he could be doing anything, anywhere with anyone and I couldn't keep him safe! A wonderful book called Get Out of My Life: But First Can You Take Me and Cheryl to the Mall was recommended to me. Speaking as the parent of a teen, I'd go so far as to say that this book saved my sanity. There is one phrase in the entire book that keeps running through my head: "Adolescence is the time when you need to give up control and let your child make choices, and it is the time when the stakes are exceedingly high" 

I feel grateful that  my role as yoga teacher helps me see my role of becoming irrelevant so clearly. In my classes I strive to provide information, support, guidance and structure while encouraging and applauding my students for listening to their own internal voices and making decisions that are right for them. I am reminded that when new students begin their journey we may be walking a path together, it is when those paths diverge that I can be proud. As my teenage son begins walking his path I know there will be many times that he will trip and fall. Like any parent my instinct is to bring him back to the path which we have walked together since he was a baby. My deep love for him drives me to pick him up and whisper, "Just stay by me. I will walk in front of you and keep you safe." Through my own journey as a teacher I know to take a deep breath, help him back to his feet and continue to shepherd him down his own path....until he can walk it on his own.

Waiting to be Seen

My decision to move from the hustle and bustle of New York City to the summer town of Bar Harbor Maine was borne of the realization that I needed some good old fashioned space. After graduating from college I immediately moved to the city. After nearly 3 years I was ready for a change and I knew what I wanted: I wanted sun. I wanted to work on a boat and be on the water. I wanted to commune with nature and feel the wind in my hair! I wanted opportunity to think, feel and just be. New York City was full of life and full of stimulation and it left me feeling as though I was losing sight of the simple things in life.

After reading the book Journal of a Solitude (May Sarton's chronicles of her year living on the coast of Maine) I thought, "that's it. I need to get outta here." and so I did. Being someone who goes for what they're after, I dove headlong into turning my fantasy into a reality. That summer I got a job on a boat. I sailed around the harbor all day long and experienced the wonders of nature. I saw bald eagles and whales. I ate lobster and marveled at the natural beauty of my surroundings. "This is easy" I thought, "I love the simple life!"

Summer time in a summer tourist town is not unlike New York City in some respects. There are new people cycling in and out each week. Lines form at all the popular restaurants and there are plenty of bars to choose from. With Acadia National Park right in our backyard we (my future husband and I) chose a different hike to explore each weekend and by the end of the summer we still hadn't explored them all. We swam in local swimming holes, kayaked around the harbor and explored the surrounding islands. The summer was full of excitement, nature and stimulation on a different (and more natural) scale. And then winter came. It was like God himself had pulled the drain out of my sink full of summer abundance and suddenly I found myself smack in the middle of the cold, dark and depressing Maine winter thinking "what in God's name happened?"

By the time December came I was going for days on end without changing out of my pajamas. I set up a little painting studio and tried (and failed) to find my creative spirit. My future ex-husband and I tried to write a screenplay together only to discover that working together was like scraping fingernails on a chalkboard: intolerable. I thought about writing something on my own but quickly abandoned the idea thinking "what for?" I did read however.  I read more books in that one winter than in my whole high school and college life combined. I read the book Winter by Rick Bass and chided myself for complaining at all. "Don't be such a loser" I told myself "be grateful you're not in Montana.". Yet still some days I simply didn't see the point of getting out of bed.

Then I read a book by Annie Dillard called Pilgram at Tinker Creek. The book is a non-fiction narrative of Ms. Dillard's days living in the countryside. "Eh", I thought. "I don't need to read any more books on this stuff, I'm living it." Still, I read and finished the book. Really, what else was I going to do during these dismal winter days? While reading these books which described the simple and wonderous life in the countryside I couldn't help but feel that I had somehow failed. The whole thing seemed so inspiring and transformational as I sat on the F train and read through May Sarton's chapters. Now I sat huddled around the wood stove in our freezing cold house and I missed New York City, damn it! I was a failure at living in nature. I was a failure at finding inspiration from someplace other than the distraction, stimulation and vibrance of a city. I wasn't strong enough to live in semi-solitude. Summer tourist towns shut down shop for the winter and without the stimulation of the hustle and bustle of summer I was simply alone and I felt there was nothing to see, do or be.  I wasn't going to be writing any poetically descriptive books on My Winter in Maine; it would be boring. I wasn't deep.

The days crept by.

Sometime after reading Annie Dillard's book I decided to pull myself up by my bootstraps and go for a wintry walk. Alone. I took my car to the edge of a dirt road which I knew traveled through the woods. The road would end at the mouth of a cove that I had discovered one summer day. It seemed a century ago. I began my walk, huffing and puffing through the snow and ice. I was completely destination-bound. I had no sensitivity around the actual journey--the walk.  My gaze at my boots, the huff of my breath and the passing minutes were my only points of focus. In what seemed like a hot second I stood at the clearing at the mouth of the cove. It was dead quiet. My gaze scanned the still and frozen water and came to rest on the handful of summer houses upon which I had stumbled in the summer. The windows were boarded. No sign of life. "What a drag" I thought. Everything seemed dead and lifeless. As I looked around at my surroundings I saw what I found to be a reflection of myself. Emptiness.

I called to mind a chapter from Ms. Dillard's book entitled Seeing.  The basic gist of the chapter was this: We often look but we seldom see. Seeing involves stopping. Seeing involves creating space and quiet in which to notice. Seeing involves unseeing; that is to take your focus off of that which you have always focused in order for something new to present itself.

That winter in Maine, I was focused only on was what was wrong. It was dark, it was cold, days were short, I was tired. I couldn't paint, I couldn't write, I had no energy, I was bored. I was dull and I was empty. And the thing I focused on most; I had failed.

I stood at the mouth of the cove wondering how long I should stay in order for my walk to be "worth the trouble". I wanted to head back to my car but this seeing business kept nagging at me. In that instant, I thought "what the hell" and instructed myself to stay a moment longer to look around. I looked around.  I saw trees without leaves. I saw snow on the ground.  I saw the sky. I heard some light wind and I saw my breath. "All is dead" I thought. "I don't see anything because there is nothing around to see. Life has left this place. Bah!"

As I was about to head back I turned my head to the left and noticed a large bush. It had been next to me all the time but I hadn't looked at it. Now I looked at it and remarkably, I saw. The bush was large and had no leaves. The bush had little berries. Down the length of each branch there was an abundance of berries and there, on every branch and through every inch of this bush there were birds! Tiny little chickadees purposefully hopping from branch to branch, from berry to berry. There must have been at least a hundred of these gorgeous little birds! The bush was teaming with life! I was awestruck. Where had they come from? Were they there all this time, going about their business of collecting berries? Could it be that all I needed to do was to stop focusing on what wasn't there in order to notice this splendid display of life and beauty? It could and it was. At that moment I did not want to walk away. I became mesmerized by these birds and the life and beauty that they possessed. There was so much to see, so much to notice; their ceaseless bouncing from one branch to another and their sweet chirping calls to one another. Each bird seemed so precious to me, the thought of walking away was incomprehensible. I could not believe that I did not notice this bush filled with life before this moment. The experience of witnessing their life touched my life so profoundly that words can not describe it. Where I once felt empty I was beginning to feel fully alive. It was beautiful.

Though it was 20 years ago I still remember that moment as if it has just passed. As I teach my yoga classes I often speak of creating space to notice something new. "Breathe and slow down" I say, "and make space for something beautiful to present itself. Allow yourself to receive something." As I say these words to my students I think of my moment with the birds in the bush. I remember that first winter in Maine as a time when I was stuck in the darkness of resistance and self-judgment. I had wanted to appreciate the simple things in life, yet my insistence in seeing only that which I did not want or did not like prevented me from accomplishing this. Not until my moment with the birds did I realize that I was blocking my own vision.

Each time I step on my yoga mat and take my first breath is like the moment I decided to remain at the mouth of the cove and take a moment to look. Each subsequent breath is like peeling away the mask covering my own eyes so that I may see what is there. Each practice leaves me able to see, feel and appreciate the simple yet miraculous and beautiful things in my life and the lives of those around me. Just like the little birds in the bush, they have always been there, waiting to be seen.

Finding "The One"

Just over 20 years ago I thought I had found "The One". He was tall, strikingly handsome and extremely charming. He was intelligent and sensitive. He liked cats for goodness sake! He was a lover of children, took long bubble baths and was willing to give up watching football--for me! "Oh my God" I thought. "I have found the ONE!" I just couldn't believe that I was his one too. Me? I never thought I would ever be anyone's "The One", let alone this smokin hot-super-sensitive-funny and charming superman! It was a drug more powerful than any I have ever known.

Anything I wanted to do he would do. Anywhere I wanted to go he would follow. We moved to Maine, we traveled to Spain. We got married (ok, that one took some convincing), bought a house and had a baby. I started a business and he became a house husband. I had a Mr. Mom and every woman was jealous of me. We lived in Italy, bought a cabin on a lake and had another baby. From the outside we were the envy of everyone who knew us, and even those who didn't. We looked like we had it all: Love, money, health and happiness. Over the years he told me over and over again, "you are the love of my life" and yet something was just not adding up.

In the early stages of our life together I recognized one powerful and important dynamic. I did not like the way I felt when this man spoke to me. I felt misunderstood, I felt stupid and most pronounced; I felt disrespected. I was young and hopeful but the sinking feeling that permeated  my body, mind and spirit when he spoke to me was so palpable that after one year of being with him I told him of my noticing. "I don't like the way I feel when you talk to me" I told him, "and the only way to address that is to leave the relationship" I stated. He was crushed. He cried and said he would change. He begged and pleaded for me to give him a chance.  In the end, I couldn't leave him. After all, he was "The One" Finding "The One" means that here is no other. That's it. The. One.

We began couples therapy and continued for ten solid years. Each therapist would say the same thing: "well, it's clear that the love is there". But was it love, or was it not wanting to let go of "The One" and ending up with "The None"?

The years went on and he did not change, but I did. I became smaller, less strong. I felt so lucky to have someone to love me as much as he said he did. On top of that, he was able to see all my flaws and was not afraid to point them out to me. He would make me a better person. He told me so often "you're selfish" and "you don't know what compromise is"and  "you don't know what it means to be in a marriage" and the kiss of death "you don't know the meaning of the word compassion" How can it be that I simply did not see these things about myself! Over time, I couldn't imagine that anyone would want to be anywhere near a wretch like me. Thank the stars above that I had him to make me likeable, tolerable and approachable. Just being near him made me better and like finding a needle in a haystack I felt like I had won the relationship lottery. I had found "The One" and boy, where would I be without him? Still, I found myself questioning and becoming angry. I judged myself for this anger because he loved me so much. I should just be thankful.

Like a dog that is hit repeatedly, he eventually believes he deserves the treatment and so had I become. The questions still remained but I gave up on doing anything about it. Perhaps my greatest moment of learning acceptance was in my marriage. I accepted my life, my husband, my marriage and what I saw to be my future. Many years had past. We had two children, a life and house in Maine and I saw that there was no way out. I was in it, together, with "The One" for the rest of my days. Trapped.

Like that aforementioned dog that eventually snaps, I had a moment of rebellion and turned on my husband. In one last expression of my voice I sat him down and angrily declared, "I feel like I am married to an asshole, and I do not want to be married to an asshole." I mentioned a few instances that I felt were especially "asshole-ish" and his response to my pronouncement was "I'm sorry that you think I'm an asshole". We got nowhere. After that I kept silent.

Six years passed and we moved to Boston. I had discovered yoga, had a personal transformation and began to find my voice again.  I began to see that though he was my husband, he was not "The One",  I was. I saw that I was the one needing to find the light inside of me. Only I could cultivate that feeling of love and acceptance, and it came from deep within. I founded an organization that helps women in crisis see their value, their worth and their light. Eventually the things he said to me had less punch and I chose not to let them hurt me. When someone hands you a fork, you decided if you want to put it to use, toss it aside, or poke yourself in the eye with it. And so it was with the criticism, belittling and sarcasm that my husband sent my way. I simply did not make use of them as I once had.
He did not approve. I did not care.

17 years after I had met this man I made a shocking discovery. For all of these years, this man had been telling me that I was the love of his life, that I was "The One" and that he didn't know what he would do without me. I had felt 100% responsible for his happiness. I felt that if I had left I would be the most cold-hearted person alive. I would be destroying another person's life. Yet for all of the years of the marriage, all of the years that I believed that this man was so much better than me, he had been living a double life. For real. To speak of the details of this would be giving it energy that I just don't feel it deserves. It is enough to say that when I retell the story to people, they usually respond with comments such as "your life sounds like a Jerry Springer Show!" and yes, it does. It has also taught me some incredibly powerful and beautiful lessons:

1. Trust your intuition: My intuition was speaking loud and clear in that first year when I felt something that just wasn't right. My head, my ego and my insecurities allowed me to doubt that intuitive voice, all because I didn't want to lose "The One"

2. Your choices in life will reinforce what you believe about yourself: Though I was not aware of it, somewhere in my deep subconscious I believed that I was desperately flawed. Being with my husband helped me reinforce this belief. I chose to stay. It doesn't mean the way he was in the marriage was ok, but if I didn't not on some level have a false belief about myself, I would not have stayed.

3. "The One" lives inside of you: There is no prince charming, no winning the lottery and magic bullet. Life is a process and experience of joyful times and challenging times. When you have found "The One" deep inside of you, your ability to navigate through all of these times with grace, acceptance and continuous learning happens naturally. You experience a freedom and a love that you never have though possible.

So on this Valentine's Day I will be telling "The One" that lives deep with inside me how much I love and appreciate her. Without her, my life would be empty.

Taking Yoga for What It Is…

Whether you’ve dabbled in mind-body practices or you’re a seasoned yogi you have likely experienced the following:

“Ommmmmmmmmigod… okay breathe.  Inhale… exhale…. Ommmmigod this is HARD… I can’t BELIEVE how tight that guy’s shorts are… okay focus…. Ommmmmm.  Ommmmmmmmigod, I forgot to call my mom back… I am the WORST. DAUGHTER. EVER.  Ommmmmmmmmmm my I can’t remember if I turned off the coffee maker this morning… I should really stop drinking coffee… is it okay to drink coffee AND practice yoga?  Ommmmmmmmm.  OmmmmmmmmmiGOD-I can’t believe how FAT my thighs look in these yoga pants.”

We are told that this is normal.  We are told to just breathe, listen, and practice.  We are told to trust the process… and with good reason – because it works.  It’s worked for me, it continues to work for me, and I have the pleasure of watching it work for my clients and students every day...

… AND there are some very dangerous mixed messages out there.  

Yoga is for small people.  I am too often disappointed by the merchandise on display at yoga studios.  Fishing through the racks can be frustrating enough with 98-dollar pants displayed, and when there is not a large-sized item in the mix, we’re entering a slippery slope.   I work with a population of intelligent, high-functioning, successful clients who -on a day to day basis- struggle with the false belief that they are somehow flawed.  “I’m not _________ enough.” We constantly tell ourselves that we’re not smart enough, not successful enough, not funny enough, not thin enough, and just plain-old not good enough.  We come to the yoga studio to sit, practice, and connect in order to change this belief… and like I said before – it works.  It does, however, take time.  Breath after breath, we retrain our bodies and our minds to feel and believe that we are good enough… but what happens to the new practitioner, the anxious mother, or the compulsive eater who sees the tiny clothing and thinks: “well this clearly isn’t for me.”  It is ironic and disappointing that the same environment that can (and will) heal these negative beliefs, can simultaneously present the mixed messages that fuel that inner critic.  

Cleanses and detoxes.  It is estimated that 1 in 3 of all dieters will develop compulsive dieting attitudes and behaviors, and that of these, one quarter will develop full or partial eating disorders.  Client after client relays the same story: “I just wanted to get healthy.  I thought I could lose a couple of pounds.  Before I knew it my thinking and my eating became obsessive.”  Most people who have eating disorders are not thin.  They do not look unhealthy.  Most of them are living very functional everyday lives, while at the same time, carrying around a secret.   Sometimes the eating disorder symptoms – rigid eating, counting calories, compulsive eating, bingeing, purging, fasting, compulsive exercise –are managed for years.  But like any addiction, there is always the potential for relapse.  I recently met with a client who reported a full-blown relapse of bingeing and purging after trying a cleanse at her local yoga studio.  For some people, the drastic change in diet, consumption, and nutrition can trigger obsessive thoughts about food, weight, diet, and in some cases - lead to more severe eating disorders.  (For more reading on the potentially dangerous effects of a calorie restriction intake read up on the ‘Minnesota Semi-Starvation Study’)

Let me be clear -  cleanses and detoxes don’t cause disordered eating or disordered thoughts about food just as the merchandise in the yoga studio doesn’t cause low self esteem.   It is what it is, and for the most part – is usually presented with the most honest, genuine, and earnest intention – to help people.  

Yoga CAN be compulsive Compulsive behavior is something that we feel like we have to do or that we should do.  Nowadays, compulsiveness permeates most aspects of our lives – most of us engage, to varying degrees, of some kind of compulsive behavior regarding food, exercise, work, relationships or technology?  Is it bad?  Not necessarily. It can be, however, an obstacle to feeling present, grounded, and centered.

Yoga and mind-body practices promote bringing mindfulness, honesty, and non-judgment to all of our behavior.  It’s about balance.  Practicing yoga 2, 3, 4 times per day is not balanced.  I’ve done the month-long yoga challenges, I’ve gone to hot-yoga triples, day long workshops, and week-long retreats.  These experiences have been inspiring and transformational – and have served their purpose in helping my navigate through difficult times by focusing all of my attention on my yoga practice.

I have also learned just as much from slowing down, and from giving myself permission not to go to a class, and opting for a 20-minute home practice instead.  I’ve realized that when I’m thinking too much about getting to the studio, which class to take, how I’m going to get there, and how many classes I have done this month, I’m not allowing myself to be present or grounded in my life.  

I guess the take-home message here is that there is no prescription, no formula, no ‘right ‘or ‘wrong’ regimen of mind-body work.  It is a life-long practice of learning to decide what works for you – right now.  No one can tell you what is going to be the healthiest decision for you.  We often look to yoga teachers, studios, and other healing agents for the ‘answer’ or ‘the way’, forgetting that we already have it.  If we can use this guidance and support to increase our own self-awareness – then we are truly empowered.  

written by Amber Barke

The Penny on the Record

I have been known to say some crazy stuff in my yoga classes. I'm often reminded of espousing "wisdom" while talking about pine cones, archeologists, trash dumpsters, kid's bendy straws and dead caterpillars. Who knows where this stuff comes from and sometimes they hit the mark; sometimes not. One day though, I spoke of the Penny on the Record.

Back when I was unhappily married I read a book. The book was meant to help me decide whether my marriage was A) worth staying in or B) worth getting out of. In fact, the name of the book was Too Good to Leave; Too Bad to Stay and at the time it summed up my relationship very succinctly. Those days seem long ago and I barely remember the details of the book. One section in the book however, has stuck with me to this day. In the chapter on communication, there was a section called off the table-itis. This phrase refers to a conversation style whereby one person introduces an issue that they want/need to discuss and the other person takes the topic of the table with a tactic I call divergence. In the most damaging scenarios, this divergence tactic is also coupled with an opportunity to criticize, belittle or character bash. Over the course of a marriage, this can (and did in my case) lead to one partner getting lots and lots of practice with their off the table-itis, and the other partner losing their voice and sense of center entirely. It can lead to self doubt and a loss of any ounce of self esteem. It is extremely insidious and very damaging.

The Penny on the Record came to me while I was teaching a group of women at a substance abuse treatment facility. From the moment I taught my first class to this beautiful group of women I could see we had so much in common: we had lost our center. Losing your center looks many different way to many different people. I can lead to drug and alcohol addiction, homelessness, compulsive behavior, self injurious behavior, danger courting behavior, suicidal thoughts, depression and anxiety. Take your pick. Of course many other components play a part in losing your center, but the core component is the loss of one's way. When's you've lost your way you have lost your sense of true north, or your center. Like playing an intricate video game, you end up following one path after another until you are so far from where you started you must summon herculean effort in order to get back there! If you have forgotten how to get back, or worse--where you started from to begin with, well then--game over. As I looked at these women and spoke to these women I saw that they were at a critical point in their journeys. This was their opportunity to come back to themselves.  To find their center; their true north.

When I had my realization about my husband and his off the table-itis, I made a vow to myself. In the end, I would stay in my marriage, but I would not allow his off the table-itis to flourish. I would not get angry, I would not defend myself or judge myself and I would not judge him. I simply would stay in my center. As I was teaching yoga to the women in rehab I was reminded of what this felt like, and an image took hold in my  mind. "Imagine" I told them, "that you are a penny in the center of a record. All around you things are spinning and whirling around and yet you stay put there in the center. You are able to see things happening all around you yet there you stay. Life has a way of drawing us toward the outer edges of the record and before we know it whoosh, we've flown right off. Caught up in the centrifugal force of life until we end up someplace unimaginable. Your breath will keep bringing you back to the center of the record. Your yoga practice reminds you what it is to be in the center of the record and to simply observe what is happening around you."

I realized then that since I had returned to my marriage, I had been able to be the penny on the record in my marriage. When off the table-itis would rear its head,  I would remind myself to be a calm observer but to stay put in my center. It worked (though the marriage did not) and I found myself strength and my true north once again. It was not an easy task. It take consciousness, mindfulness and breath. There are forces all around us pulling us to the edges. Friends (toxic ones), bosses, colleagues and romantic partners can all suffer from off the table-itis which is a strong magnetic force to our pennies on the record. If you can not create space between you and these people, you can at least allow your yoga, meditation, breathing and mindfulness practice to remind you of your center. Tap into your true north, and keep your penny in the center of the record.

Cell phones can save your life (or the importance of feeling good about saying "no")

The other day I received a call on my cell phone. It was from my ex husband. I looked at that name on my little iphone screen and suddenly realized something had changed. For the better part of 2.5 years, seeing his name on that little screen ignited an instant feeling of dread and panic. Otherwise known as the stress response. Without getting into the details of my relationship with this man, suffice to say that for the last 20 years I simply did not see that I had any choice. If he wanted to talk we talked, if he wanted answers I gave them and if he called I picked up. I did not see that I was choosing this behavior. All of this came at a heavy physiological price (never mind the mental/emotional one). On this day when the phone rang, I calmly and confidently chose to let the call go to voice mail. It felt healthy. It felt empowering and it felt liberating. I wasn’t ignoring him; I was simply putting some space and time in between the incoming call and the answer. I chose this. Where once I had felt trapped I was suddenly free and my liberation was in the acknowledgment that I had a choice. How did I arrive at this day? Practice.

Though my case may be extreme, it is certainly not unusual. Essentially we all need practice in saying no but saying no in and of itself is not enough. We need to learn to say no and to feel perfectly fine about it. Instead, we all too often say yes when we want to say no, or say no and feel consumed by guilt and self-judgment. Finding ourselves wrapped up in conflict or self-sabotaging emotions not only feels uncomfortable, it puts us in a state of stress.

The old timey definition of stress is the effect of a force acting against resistance. In some ways, that is exactly what is happening in our bodies when we say yes when we want to say no, or say no and feel guilty. It seems a simple enough problem to fix and yet time and time again I cross paths with people who “feel bad” about something or feel trapped or are resentful of all of the things they have to do. How does this happen? Why are we a generation of adults who continuously go against our own gut instincts? The reason is simply that we have lost touch with our internal sense. Most of the time we are not even aware of our internal sense, we just know we don’t like the way we feel. We are so accustomed to doing things because should do them that what we feel in our bodies ends being ignored. This becomes our way of being and our minds do not even register this conflict as stress.  This ends up feeling normal to us. As Dr. Gabor Mate´ M.D. states in his book When the Body Says No: The Hidden Cost of Stress, "...we have lost touch with the gut feelings designed to be our warning system. The body mounts a stress response but the mind is unaware of the threat."

Let's look at a simple example. You've over scheduled yourself for a particular day of the week and the day draws near. In the week leading up to this day you've had several nights of poor sleep due to a sick child. Perhaps a few other unexpected things have demanded attention and that culminates in a general feeling of overwhelm. You've decided to keep all of your appointments that day knowing that you will be completely drained of energy at the end of the day (mostly because you should).  24 hours before your marathon day begins you receive a phone call from an old and dear friend saying that they are in town just for the night and can you meet them for dinner and can they possibly stay at your house for the evening? It is quite possible that you say yes to this person, telling yourself that you really have to because (fill in the blank). Or, it's possible that you say no but you are consumed with guilt and self-judgment over turning your long lost friend away. Either way, your body is now mounting a full-scale internal attack because either way there is a sense of resistance.

There are three universal factors that have been identified as leading to stress: uncertainty, the lack of information and loss of control. Different circumstances are going to register differently to different people depending on the individual. One person may be perfectly fine planning a trip with little or no agenda, and the next person may feel a great deal of anxiety around not knowing exactly what the trip will look like (to use one common example). Coping mechanisms like controlled or compulsive eating, substance use, obsessive compulsive behaviors and the like may give the illusion of control over these three stress factors but the relief is just temporary and in the end there is no resolution. Of these consistently triggered stress responses Dr. Mate states, "[without resolution these responses] produce harm and even permanent damage." This damage is caused is because in the absence of resolution the nervous system, adrenal system and immune system (otherwise known as the HPA axis) is still kicked into high gear and floods our systems with hormones and biochemicals that can eventually destroy tissue, raise blood pressure, damage the heart suppress the immune system. This constant kick-up of hormones has been found to be a leading component in the development of life threatening diseases such as ALS and Multiple Sclerosis as well as other unexplained ailments such as rheumatoid arthritis, fibromyalgia, crohn's disease, irritable bowel syndrome and others. The HPA axis is the hub of the stress response and ingeniously designed to save our lives (believe me, if you ever find yourself face to face with a hungry lion you'll be glad you have it!). Unfortunately it does not operate alone. There is a section of the brain stem called the hypothalamus that acts as a sort of "air traffic control" in your stress response mechanism. Given the green light or clearance, the hypothalamus releases corticotropin releasing hormone which sets of a chain reaction of other hormone releasing glands. Chief among these hormones is cortisol, which acts on almost every tissue in the body--one way or another. Among other things this hormone has powerful bone thinning actions (yike!) In addition, studies show that stress hormones have an effect on cytokine production.  Cytokines are proteins produced by white blood cells that act as messengers between the cells and the brain to alert the body to certain disturbances, which may call for an immune response.

So where does the hypothalamus get the clearance to turbo-charge the HPA axis? From the emotional center of the brain, known as the amygdala. So to put it simply: emotions of fear and anxiety are registered through the amygdala. The amygdala sends the clearance code to the hypothalamus and the hypothalamus initiates the stress response. Suddenly your body is responding as if a sub-surface World War III has been declared when all you're trying to do is feel ok about saying no to your friend who wants to see you for dinner on a day where you’ve already over committed yourself.

By regulating the emotional response, we can head off the stress response and save ourselves from possible long term and evenly deadly illness; but how do we do that? The answer is practice. This practice is not as simple as learning how to say no. This is the practice of mindfulness. To practice mindfulness is to cultivate an awareness of your inner experience, or your inner sense. Only by noticing, acknowledging and suspending judgment of your inner experience can you choose what is right for you. Mindfulness practice allows the mind and body to integrate so that your decisions are no longer coming from the sense of should but from knowing on an intuitive level what is right for you. Research has shown that Integrated Mindfulness Training affects the area of the brain in charge of emotional regulation, empathy, decision-making and executive attention. Mindfulness allows you to know you have a choice, and to make that choice with no guilt or self-judgment.
In the age of cell phones you have the opportunity to practice choice every time the phone rings. By mindfully choosing to answer or not to answer a call you are moving one step closer to emotional health and one step away from stress.  The example of cell phones may seem simple and silly. Simple yes. I hardly think silly. If your emotions can signal your brain to wage a full-scale stress response at the effect of the simplest of human interactions (think road rage) then perhaps it is right here that mindfulness can have its greatest effect.

Otherwise, try yoga :)

Welcome to the BAMF blog!

Thank you to all of our Facebook and Twitter followers, friends, clients, students, family and anyone else out there who has encouraged us to start a blog! The Body and Mind Forum (or BAMF Blog) will be a place where we can ignite discussion on topics that are near and dear to us. We welcome your topic suggestions and comments:) First things first. Get to know us a little bit by reading our bios below and follow us to receive notice of our first blog post!

Sue Jones:

Sue Jones, Founder and Executive Director of yogaHope has practiced yoga for

over 10 years and is a leading voice in the subject of mind body practices for self
regulation and personal empowerment For the last six years Sue has trained,
inspired and lead hundreds of volunteer yoga teachers who have donated their
time in substance abuse rehabilitation centers, domestic abuse safe houses and
homeless shelters for women.

Sue’s bold vision of transforming communities by tapping into the power of
yoga to support women through life transition has inspired a community of
volunteers, yogis, and students to come together to make YogaHOPE a force
that is changing not only the lives of the women it serves but the lives of yoga
practitioners everywhere. Through her natural leadership abilities, endless
energy and undying passion, Sue motivates those around her to open their
hearts and give generously of themselves to help others through challenging
times. Sue dedicates much of her time in researching the effects of yoga and
mindfulness practices on survivors of trauma and those suffering from traumatic
stress response. Sue is currently piloting a yogaHOPE Trauma Informed Mind
Body Program in Boston and the surrounding area. This program offers a clearly
defined, structured and deliverable program for yoga teachers, social workers
and staff of treatment centers and facilities around the country, thus making
holistic treatment available to hundreds, if not thousands more women each year.

Sue’s life and work have been profiled in The New York Times, Shape
Magazine, Body + Soul Magazine, Martha Stewart Whole Living Magazine
and on CNN Headline News.


Amber Barke:

Amber Barke, MSW, LICSWAmber Barke, clinical psychotherapist and
coordinator of the Intensive Outpatient Program at Cambridge Eating Disorder
Center, has been practicing yoga for over 10 years. Working with individuals
and groups in the Boston and Cambridge area, Amber believes that utilizing an
integrative mind/body approach to treating day-to-day stress and anxiety can
be transformational. Trained as a Prana Power Yoga assistant, Amber brings
hands-on support and healing to her students both in the community and at the
treatment center.

Amber received her MSW from Boston University, and was awarded the
Leadership Education in Adolescent Health Fellowship at Children’s Hospital in
Boston where she worked with at-risk populations including: substance abuse,
trauma, and eating disorders. Recognizing the need for more integrative work,
Amber has brought meditation, mindfulness, breath work, and yoga to the
individuals, groups, and families that she counsels.

She is currently completing a 200-hour yoga teacher training at Prana Power
Yoga so that she can continue to share the therapeutic benefits of a mind-body
practice with her patients, friends, family, and community.