Duty

The last blog entry I wrote never got published. I wrote about being very, very tired. It was kind of whiny, maybe, and by the time I made it into the studio to upload it, while still tired, I didn’t feel much like whining to the world about it. Now, readers, you'll be happy to know, I have internet, so I'll just post. No thinking or second guessing. You'll read every last whine.

I’m tired because things are going well. The studio is packed, which is great. I’ve also been teaching a lot. I took on three regular classes and lately I've been subbing at least one class everyday. There was the extra administrative work associated with the Groupon promotion. I really couldn’t take a day off. Sometimes it was fun, but sometimes, I just didn’t want to do it. At times while teaching, I felt like a machine, saying the same things over and over. It almost began to feel rote. I also said the same things over and over to our new Groupon customers. "Bring your Groupon. Mat rental is $1. See you in class!" My communications became a series of cut-and-paste operations. I was over-worked.

I taught Saturday morning, but then took the rest of the day and Sunday totally off. I didn’t go in at all. I hung out with friends who were in town from Texas. I went out dancing. I went sailing all around the Bay. It was great.

Of course, some balls got dropped. I didn’t go in to do a reception shift for a teacher who needs the help. I didn’t return phone calls or emails.

Monday came around, as it always does, and I had an emergency sub request from a teacher during the exact time I had another obligation, unrelated to the studio, that I needed to show up for. I sent out an email requesting a sub, but there was no one available.

It was a tough decision. What do I show up for?

I started reading the Bhagavad Gita. It’s the story of Arjuna, who was to fight a righteous war against his cousins. He is clearly in the right, and Krishna is his charioteer, guiding him through the war.

The translation that I am reading makes clear the metaphor that the war is the battle between good and evil, Krishna is our inner-consciousness, or Atman. He is our teacher.

Before the battle, Arjuna goes to the front lines to see who he is fighting. Among those on the other side are his teachers, cousins, friends and grandparents. He loses heart. He doesn't feel he can fight these people; they are his family. He rationalizes leaving the battles, surrendering before it begins, and Krishna tells him he need not grieve because Self is eternal. Dying is like changing clothes: we shed an old, worn out body for a new one. The Self does not die. So kill away, Arjuna!

Basically, what it boils down to is that Arjuna has to fight the war because it is his God-given Duty. While Arjuna is whining, Krishna says: “Yield not to weakness. It does not suit you. Shake off this petty faint heartedness. Stand up, Scorcher of foes, wake up!”

God, how often have I wanted to tell that to other people?

Arjuna replies later, “I am weighted down with weak mindedness; I am confused and cannot understand my duty. I beg of you to say for sure what is right for me to do. I am your disciple. Please teach me, for I have taken refuge in you.”

Later in the Gita, Krishna talks about doing one’s own duty and not anyone else’s. To paraphrase, it is better to do your duty poorly than someone else’s perfectly. All of this has to do with karma and escaping the wheel of death and rebirth, but we'll save that for some other time. 

Ultimately, the decision I made was to cancel the class and keep my other commitment, mostly because it was my commitment to keep. My duty to the studio was to try to find a sub for the class, which I did. My duty is not to drop everything and cover someone else's class. It's taken me a long time to realize that.

Nothing is worse for business, in my opinion, that not having a class when we say we're having class, but as Krishna would say, “Seeing the same in pleasure and pain, gain and loss, victory and defeat, in battle-just for the sake of the battle-then you will be sinless.”

That’s the path of Karma Yoga. It doesn’t matter whether what I do is good for business or bad for business. Am I doing the right thing, am I doing what I am called to do? Krishna is consciousness. Am I seeking the guidance of “Krishna,” or am I seeking the guidance of other, sensory things, like pleasure and success?

Eventually, at the last minute, someone came through to cover for me, and I was able to teach the yoga class. As I write this though, I wish that I hadn’t even asked. I wish I had just shown up for what I was supposed to show up for and let everything fall out as it will, and that's how I'll do it from now on. I’m not killing my grandfather here. The worst that can happen is a few people don’t get their yoga class.

I like the Bhagavad Gita. I like the story of the war between good and evil. I like the emphasis on showing up for life and pushing through fear and doubt and doing it solely for the sake of doing it, not for the rewards of victory or to avoid the discomforts of loss. It’s about being engrossed in life, and constantly asking to be guided to do the right thing.

So I’m going to try to show up. For all things, not just the yoga studio. That is the hard part, because for the last 18 months, my life's primary purpose has been to get the studio going and successful. I've been very outcome-motivated, which actually may have been appropriate and necessary for the beginning of the business. But that's not all there is. Showing up for myself and getting rest and time off is part of what I’m supposed to be doing. Sometimes time off feels like not showing up. Occassionally it is, but more often for me, it's a much needed break that leaves me with the energy to keep showing up later.

Arjuna was able to ask Krishna point blank for guidance. We sort of have to ask and then wait and reflect and hope that we're doing the right thing. There is also the promise in yoga of acting decisively because our vision is clear. We know what's right. It's obvious. I'm not there yet, but I think I'm getting better.

In the meantime, I am sure enjoying my internet right here at my easy chair, and the fact that I will publish this right now. Even if it sucks.

I heart yoga part 2

Blog, oh blog, I have missed you. I've had that writer's block that I get when I'm content. I write best about drama and pain, so when there's none of that, I just eat dinner and go to bed. But I'm back, content and writing anyway.

I was reading the current issue of Yoga Journal today,  and so much of what I read smacked of self-satisfaction and the joy of being right. Here’s how my diet is so great. Here’s how I’m a giving, self-sacrificing karma yogi. Here’s how I meditate everyday and practice asana and gratitude and how I’m so, so happy. It’s not that fucking easy, y’all. Yoga is for real. I do not go into this holy and self-sacrificing and altruistic. If I do something that makes you happy, I don't mind, but believe me, it wasn't my first intention. I want to be happy and me first.

And I am happy. The studio is packed. I feel like I’m being of service in a real way. I often make decisions I’m content with and that lead to positive results. I planted a flower garden. I had a friend come visit me from far away, and it was just me she came to visit. I didn’t have to show her the Golden Gate Bridge or any museums and take her to Napa. She was happy just to sit in my tiny living room and eat tofu and couscous cooked in my very own kitchen with week old cauliflower.

How blessed I am.

I’ve been meaning to write for awhile about a second way that Desikachar defines yoga. He writes: “yoga is to attain what was previously unattainable…. In fact, every change is yoga.”

Wow. Really? It’s easy to notice this in our asana practice. I can do poses now that I thought I would probably never get. My body has changed profoundly. I used to daydream about owning a business and being self employed and that seemed totally unattainable. I thought I had to be rich first, and I didn’t know how I would do it. But it came.  I didn’t get rich first. I just pieced it together because I wanted it very, very badly, and it seemed like the time was right.

On a deeper level, I’m happy and content and satisfied way more often than not. There was a time when unhappy was a way of life.  I knew excitement, and I knew high and drunk, but I didn’t know how to be at ease. I was suicidal, crazy angry, victimized, and eaten up by fear most of the time. I still have my moments, as you all hear about here, but it’s just not like that anymore. The stretches of being okay get longer and the phases of freaking out become shorter. They are moments, not states of being. 

In yoga, I learned to be uncomfortable and still at the same time. I started to pay attention off the mat. I began to notice what wasn’t working. I was drawn to things that seemed likely to work better. Self-employment. Less stuff. Simpler life. Noticing people. And then slowly, slowly, the non-functional stuff has been dropping away. It didn’t happen on my timeline, and it wasn’t about effort or struggle or setting rules for myself. It was about showing up, day after day, doing the best I could, and letting it all take shape.  Some days were (and still can be) pretty shitty, but I’ve come a long way. Contentment was unattainable for me. Seriously. It’s not anymore. What happened in between is called yoga.

Have I become the annoyingly self-satisfied yoga writer? Never to worry. I wrote this last night and already today, irritating things are popping into my consciousness that I'm sure will provide some material for edgier entries. More to come...

muddy water

The studio got busy. Really busy and very suddenly. We ran the Groupon, 653 of them were sold, and all the sudden people are calling and spending money and buying yoga mats and attending class. It’s great. It’s what I’ve wanted and worked hard for since I opened the place. Even without the Groupon, we had begun making sales goals more days than not, and it looks like Square One is here to stay. I’ve sort of known that for while, but now there’s no question. The thoughts of getting a job that used to float around in the back of my head are gone. I have a job. I have health insurance and working hours and people who rely on me. I just need to start paying taxes.

So why am I not elated?

I have to admit that there is some residue in my emotional body from spending two weeks sure I was dying. That’s a little bit of an exaggeration. Two weeks that I spent full of intense fear and grief and bewilderment. There were those moments in those two weeks that I’ve written about here, when I was very, very centered in the present moment. In many ways, I felt more alive then than I ever have, even though a lot of it was really hard.

So now it’s over. I’ve been thrown back into my life and all its busy-ness and activity, but there is a part of me that is very, very tired. I don’t think it’s life as usual, but I haven’t had a moment to think about what has changed. Am I stopping to smell the flowers? Am I spending more time with loved ones? Am I returning the important calls and letting the ones that can wait wait? Have I stopped texting and driving? No, no, no, and no.

But there is a shift. I don’t want to open another studio. Not right now. I thought that’s what I would do this summer, but it doesn’t sound at all appealing. It’s so much work. I want to take a vacation. I would like to take a whole week. What would two weeks feel like? For years, I took two months every summer. Now piecing together two days feels out of reach. Why in the world would I want another yoga studio?

Judith Lasater ends her classes (or she used to, anyway) by saying, “May you be like the lotus flower, at home in the muddy water.” I think some of the seize-the-day lessons from my two weeks of worry may be lost or too subtle to recognize. What is clear to me though is that when it was happening, I was in the moment, but I was also really, really uncomfortable most of the time. I was not at home in the muddy water. I was insane with anxiety and future tripping and fear. It was difficult to even be awake, and at the same time I was having a nasty battle with insomnia.

More activity is not a long-term antidote to anxiety. I am not looking for more businesses, more jobs, more money or more commitments.  They will find me anyway, I’m sure. Right now, I want time to myself. Time to go on retreat, time for vacation, time to take walks and naps and time to chill out at home and write my blog.

Thank you, Life, for giving me a successful business. That’s what I said I wanted and here it is. Help me just to be okay with that, to acclimate to that, to not need to have the biggest, best yoga empire in the whole world. Let me just stop here for awhile and get my bearings.

May I be like the lotus flower, at home in the muddy water.

back to ambition!

Thanks to all my well wishers... Results are back, and I don't have cancer! Woohoo! I was really sure that I did and halfway convinced that I was already almost dead. Goes to show that I feel fear much more acutely than intuition. Nothing weird about that.

Yesterday we sold 653 packages of 25 classes for $25 through Groupon to brand new Square One students. That's a lot of new students. I was not even excited at all yesterday because I just kept thinking, "I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer." I'm excited now!

So I've got a lot of work to do. I have plans to make, and I'm feeling ambitious. Like maybe a second space? Maybe a vacation to a hot, sunny beach somewhere? Maybe a yoga training? Yay! Life!

That's all for now. I know there were a few of you out there wondering...

back to the blog

I've missed my blog. I've been writing, but to myself and to God, waiting for dust to settle.

About two weeks ago, I got a call back from the ob/gyn nurse telling me that I need to come in for more tests after a pap. I'm not going to go into a lot of detail here, but at the more in-depth exam, spots were found, biopsies were taken, and I got really scared.

I'm still waiting on results, and the odds are really good that it is completely treatable. It may even just be a "let's keep an eye on it" kind of thing. But it is really, really scary. I have been completely consumed by the fear and the not knowing, and I wasn't ready to write about it here. It was too much. It also took me awhile to tell the major players in my life, and I didn't want someone in my family to find out by reading the blog. But now I can write, which I'm really happy about.

I think everyday of this little picture I cut out of a magazine once that had the Five Remembrances from Buddhism. (I just googled it and found the very image. I'm so lucky! Here it is. Thanks, Thich Nhat Hanh and plumvillage.com.)

I carried that little piece of paper around with me for years, pinning it on various refrigerators and office bulletin boards, but it's taken this experience to really get it.

I had a moment alone in my morning practice (which is really, really not a big deal. I sit for like 2 minutes and write a little. On a good day.) Anyway, I had this moment when I realized that I would die, and I felt totally supported, totally calm, totally without fear. Wow. I have, a few times while feeling young and healthy, tried to visualize my death as suggested by the Remembrances. The experience was frightening and dark and lonely, and I haven't ever been able to stay with it for more than a second. For the first time, I had a moment with death and with God that wasn't at all scary. It was like, "yeah, this is what happens. It's going to be okay."

I'm a little worried that this sounds morbid, but it's not. I'm not at all saying that I'm going to die from this, or that it's going to happen soon. That's very, very unlikely. Really.

Don't worry, the holy, peaceful feeling didn't stick. It never does. I became neurotic again. But something big has shifted. I'm going to die; you are going to die. Your mom and your children and your siblings and your best friend are all going to die. So there's nothing left but this one instant right now. This time with this person, this flower, this night sky, this scent of cut grass. This is all we've got. And it's really, really amazing. I swear, the Bay has never been more beautiful, my friends more sweet (even the ones who don't know yet), passers-by more fascinating, flowers more colorful, sun shinier, etc., etc., than it has been the last couple of weeks. As my mom, who is a survivor of both breast cancer and a brain aneurysm said this morning, "you get the moment."

Maybe that little slip of paper has been preparing me for this, whatever this is. Definitely, I had moments in the beginning when I just kept saying to myself, "I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready for this." Whatever this is, which is totally unknown, and what I'm realizing with this stuff is that knowing more doesn't make me any more sure. Every time there is new information, there are more questions. There is no certainty, and even though I really want those results, I know that it won't necessarily set my mind at ease, even if the news is "good." There may just be more questions. And it doesn't change the central fact that life is impermanent. We just don't ever know.

Here are some other, more mundane lessons I'm learning that I need to share with fellow health slackers:
1. Quit smoking. (Okay, I already did that, but if the news is bad, it's certain that my 15 years smoking were not helping the situation any.)
2. Get your paps as recommended by your doctor. Don't blow it off.
3. Keep your health insurance, even if you're healthy, broke and self-employed. Don't worry. I kept mine. I won't have to sell the farm.

Ok, that's it. I'm back to the blog, so you'll be getting updates.

doubt

Managing people is an oxymoron. Or at least that’s how it seems to me right now. People do what they want. I’ve been lucky; 99% of the time what I want and what the people I supervise want are close enough that I don’t have to do anything drastic. Like say no.

Occasionally, teachers and receptionists (God forbid) have higher priorities than the well being of my little yoga studio.  They have families and bodies that sometimes get sick and need attention. Obviously. And then there are situations that are a little more ambiguous, and it feels to me like the needs of the studio aren’t getting met in some way and they should be. By someone other than me.  In these cases, I view it as my responsibility as a manager to draw a line, to say no, to be clear, to set rules.

And I find this incredibly, incredibly uncomfortable. I am filled with doubt no matter what I do. If I say yes when I kinda want to say no, I feel weak and ever so slightly resentful. If I say no, I feel like an unyielding bitch that everyone hates working for. I’m supposed to be flexible, right? I’m supposed to go with the flow. On the other hand, my job is to keep the place afloat and sometimes that means drawing lines and having personal boundaries around time.

A lot of what this boils down to is being unsure of myself. Desikachar writes: “We often determine we have seen a situation ‘correctly’ and act according to that perception. In reality, however, we have deceived ourselves, and our actions may thus bring misfortune to ourselves or others. Just as difficult is the situation in which we doubt our understanding of a situation when it is actually correct, and for that reason we take no action, even though doing so would be beneficial. The Yoga Sutra uses the term avidya to describe these two ends of the spectrum of experience.”

The problem is that I don’t really know. Being right feels great, so it’s super easy to put myself squarely in the righteous camp and hang out there for awhile. But then comes that nagging feeling. Avidya is sneaky because it could be that my perception is correct and appropriate and the doubt is avidya. Or it could be that my perception is harmful and incorrect and the doubt is a crack in the veil of avidya.

Who the hell knows? This is when a teacher would come in handy. My only teacher right now is my breath, which frankly could use some help with enunciation.

“The goal of yoga is to reduce the film of avidya in order to act correctly,” says Desikachar. I’m working on it, T.K.V.

I just have to hold both things. I have to live with some amount of doubt about my actions, but I have to act. I’m the business’s primary steward. Saying no to intelligent, reasonable adults is sometimes my job. Sometimes it’s also my responsibility to tell reasonable adults that their actions are harmful to me or to the studio. Sometimes what I decide interferes with what others had hoped for themselves, and they don’t like it. Luckily, I’m not Barack Obama or anything. I can make mistakes without killing all the life in the Gulf of Mexico or endangering lives in faraway (and nearby) lands. 

I’m just someone who’s particularly uncomfortable being uncomfortable. So it all seems like a big deal. My sane guess is that no one involved is currently thinking about me at all right now, which is really the biggest relief of all.

(Written in Word last night with no internet connection. Proven possible.)

intentional upheaval #496

Moving's a bitch, and I do it more than most people. There was one eight-year period in my life when I moved 22 times. It started when I was eighteen, and I moved from Tallahassee, FL diagonally across the country to Portland, OR.  This current move is my fourth in three years, so my record is improving with age.

I think when I was younger, my life was inherently chaotic so the extra chaos of moving didn't sway me too much. This time, I'm a little more swayed. I love the new little house, and I REALLY love the washer/dryer, but last week just went on forever. Everytime I went back to the old apartment, it seemed like there was more junk to deal with and that everything was way filthier than it was the last time I checked. It just never ended.

Until now. It's over. I'm not completely settled in, but the old place is gone forever. The keys are turned in. Actually, they're not because I forgot to do that, but the point is I'm never going back inside that apartment. It's time to reground. I'm not eighteen anymore.

As most of you know, there's no internet at the new space. I really cannot work there, which is not so bad, although last night some work emails came in, and I couldn't help but wish that I could just take care of them right then. And, as you may have noticed, the blog hasn't been happening. My plan for blogging was that I would write in Word, and then go to the studio, connect and post. But that hasn't proved to be very satisfying. In fact, I haven't been tempted to do it at all. Part of the blogging is the instant gratification of instant publishing. I can look at my stats and see the numbers go up. I know people are reading. It's part of the experience for me.

So I'm at the coffee shop trying to decide if my resolution about not having internet was such a great idea after all or if it's another example of  all-or-nothing thinking. Something in my life becomes a little dysfuncitonal or hard to deal with, so I get rid of it all completely. I toss the baby, the bath water and whole damn tub. Sometimes kind of aggressively.

That probably is related to the fact that I move so often.

There is something that is really great about constantly reinventing and reflecting and making things better. Some people call that growth. Now, I'm not a botanist or anything, but let's play around with the plant analogy for a second. Even the fastest growing plants, say bamboo, grow so slowly that you only see the growth in retrospect. Like, "Wow! Remember when that plant was so tiny? Now look at it! It's only been a week." But watching bamboo grow would be boring as hell.

So is what I do growth? Yes, I grow, but the frequent, intentional change of external circumstances is not itself growth. The growth is internal, not controlled by me, not immediately visible. The constant reinvention is great because when I do it with direction and purpose,which I'm starting to learn to do, my life keeps getting better. I'm trading up. On the other hand, it's exhausting and disorienting. My energy is unpredictable, and right now, I feel very, very ungrounded. I don't know where the flea meds are or where I will fit all my rolls of duct tape. I don't know what the routine of my life is at this new place with no internet. It's all in upheaval. It's chaos that I invited in.

Not bad, not good, just change. I'm ready for the change to settle a bit. I'm ready for my back to quit hurting from moving heavy shit and not finding time to practice yoga. I'm ready to have a habit around blogging and writing again, whether it's at the coffee shop or at home on Word or plugged into my very own wireless connection. I'm ready for it all to take shape. And then I think I'll stay for awhile.

I heart yoga part 2 coming soon. It's linked..

i heart yoga part 1

Ok, so the consensus is that I write about yoga. That's the consensus of one (me) because I didn't hear from anyone. I guess as the writer it is my job to figure out what to write about.

Luckily, I started reading The Heart of Yoga by T.K.V. Desikachar recently, and it's giving me lots of things that I want to think and write about. Desikachar is the son and student of Krishnamacharya, who was both Pattabhi Jois and Iyengar's teacher. But enough name dropping. It's a great book, very simply and clearly written, and I think it may be the perfect book for a new yoga student to start with. It took me five years of practicing to pick it up, but you guys don't have to be as slow as me. (Oh, and, by the way, we sell it in the shop.)

Anyway, he lists a bunch of different definitions of yoga. I'm just going to talk about one, which is from Patanjali, who in the Yoga Sutras, famously writes "yoga chitta vritti nirodah." I've seen this spelled and translated a million different ways. I like Desikachar's translation, which is "yoga is the ability to direct the mind exclusively toward an object and sustain that direction without any distractions."

So how am I doing with my yoga? God, you know, the more I read about it, the more I see ways I can grow. That's the purpose of self-study, which is actually one of the niyamas, or "dos" in yoga. Study yourself, study the scriptures. It is also possible to use a spiritual practice as a whip. "I'm not good enough. I'm not good enough," becomes the mantra. What I'm doing here is self-study. One day I'll write a blog entry about the difference. It's sort of hard to articulate, and I think I confuse the two a lot. Right now I know by the way it feels. This is self study.

Anyway, back to the topic. I am so often distracted. The only times I can think of that I am consistently not distracted are when I am teaching yoga or when I'm writing. But all the other moments of my life are ripe with multi-tasking and a viciously short attention span. I constantly need to move on to the next thing. Now. And then the next thing. And the next thing, and then, oh wait! I was doing that original thing which is still incomplete, so back to task A.

Desikachar puts it this way: "yoga means acting in such a way that all of our attention is directed toward the activity in which we are currently engaged." This makes me think of my current decisions around getting rid of things. The pruning. Too much stuff is a distraction. That's why monks live in tiny rooms with cold floors and worn, hard mattresses. In the West. In the East, I guess they live in caves.

I'm not a monk, and I'm not interested in renouncing the material world. But getting rid of what I'm not using means I will have more opportunities to focus on what is present and useful in my life. Right now, as I've written about here, I'm considering letting go of the internet at my new house. That would be huge for me. The TV went away long ago, but the TV shows didn't. I'm laptop-addicted. I may have to just sit with myself. Maybe I won't let five years go by before I read another really important book. Maybe I'll write and reflect more. Maybe my yoga will get a little deeper.

It's amazing to me how yoga happens. How it unfolds. Practice and everything falls away. Everything. It's not immediate, but when I look back and I see how much simpler and fuller and happier my life is now compared to when I started doing yoga, I'm in awe. If you had told me then to quit smoking, quit drinking, quit eating meat and give away half of my possessions, I would have told you to go fuck yourself. Seriously. But giving up those things just became so obviously the correct action when the time was right. There was no gruelling decision to make. I didn't have to try. I just kept practicing. This shit works, man. It just does.

My new BFF Desikachar says, "we begin where we are and whatever happens happens." How lovely. I don't have to be perfect. You don't have to be perfect. We start practicing yoga while we are still smoking and drinking and sleeping around or whatever it is for us. We don't start practicing after we got all that figured out. It will never happen. I love yoga. Start where you are.

Dear readers,

OK, I'm kind of sick of this blog right now. I want to keep writing, but really. Is this all I've got going on? A few Joe-joes and a cheap trip to Target? I didn't even eat the whole box. Not even a full row. Where's the angst? Where's the drama?

There is none right now. My biggest problem right this second is that between the cat napping on my right thigh and the dog's head on my left thigh, there is nowhere on my lap to put my laptop. So it's perched precariously on one knee, held up by the heels of my hands while I type. Cozy little life.

My personal finances are still a wreck, but I've gotten really used to that. The more I hear, the more I understand that that's just what happens to new entrepreneurs. It's a hump that I hope I get over on the sooner side, but I'm not alone. The business is solid and profitable, and if I just ignore a couple bills every now and then, I have enough money to get by. There's nothing else to say about that.

So, readers. What do you want to hear about? I can write about running a business. I can write about marketing and management, and maybe it will be sort of fresh and different from the rest of what's out there. But really what seems to resonate is writing about being crazy. Because we're all crazy, so y'all get it. But I'm feeling sane right now, and I want to keep writing anyway. Do you want me to write about how I used to be crazy? Or maybe I should just wait until I'm crazy again. Shouldn't take too long.

Anyway. I may give the blog a little break. I hate to do that because I have some readers, and I really enjoy it. I'm just feeling kind of stumped. Like I need a little direction. Suggestions, please!

checking out

Today I was feeling kind of down. I busted into the emergency earthquake Joe Joes and made a retail therapy trip to Target. It had to be budget retail therapy, so all I got were cheap plastic sunglasses and fake gold hoop earrings. But it kind of took my mind off things for a minute, and the truth is I like my sunglasses and I like my earrings. I see the beginnings of a summer uniform. Unfortunately, neither the cookies nor the buying helped for long. I'm not working much right now. No new projects, nothing to distract me from what ails me.

So what ails me? A few things, but I'm not sure they're really the point. There are always, simultaneously, lots of upsetting things happening and absolutely nothing upsetting happening. It's just my perception at the moment that changes. Unfortunately for me, I haven't yet figured out how to quickly change my perception, if such a thing is even possible. Also unfortunately for me, at some point in this life, I decided that being happy all the time was owed me, and when the discontent or the melancholy starts to settle in, I have to do something quick. Go somewhere. Buy something. Eat something. Drink something. I have not learned yet just to sit with it.

Sort of. Sometimes friends who read this blog tell me I don't give myself enough credit. I sit with it way better than I used to. An old friend told me yesterday that I am the healthiest person she knows. Weird, because I feel like the least healthy person I know. But let's face it. Five years ago I smoked a pack a day, drank like a fish, could inhale an eight ball of coke in one night with no help, and didn't think twice about running through the drive-thru after a long night drinking. Drunk. So compared to the vast majority of friends from that era, I'm an Olympic athlete. Compared to the San Francisco Bay Area yoga community, I eat way too many Joe Joes.

What if I didn't compare? What if I just said, hey, I've come along way, but I'm not done yet. I'm still growing. I still have work to do.

This is self-reflection, not self-flagellation. I wasn't very happy today. I have some ideas why, chief among them that I'm human, and humans have a wide range of emotions, many of which don't feel that great. What's more interesting is that my inclination continues to be to check out.

I'm not exactly sure what the solution is. I think that's why diets fail. I can tell myself that I will never, ever eat Joe Joes again, but unless I face whatever it is that Joe Joes seem to be the answer to (it's rarely hunger), I will eventually go back to eating them.

I don't know why I need busy-ness or chaos or cookies or trips to Target. I don't know why I can't just sit with myself. I'm just noticing now how that plays out, and I'm curious. Just like I'm curious about the rage. I still like myself. Really.

blog about blogging

I'm a little worried about this blog.

The business is doing fine. We are not exactly doubling attendance this week, but we're plugging along. I like the new pricing structure. Some people have paid a little more. It's not much money now, but I think as people get used to it, it will bring in a fair amount of extra revenue. Along with the new pricing structure came a really clear decision to quit using low price in our branding. It's not really the point. Do we want people to be able to come, and have we priced it in a way to facilitate that? Yes, absolutely. Is it the best, most important thing about us? No, I definitely don't think so.

So why am I worried about the blog? I'm worried about the blog because I want to keep writing, but sometimes what I do here starts to feel repetitive and without direction or structure.

I'm worried about the blog because sometimes I write things that are innocuous to everyone except the person who I'm writing about. I don't insult people here, but if you're the friend that I'm pruning, you know that, and in retrospect, writing it in a public place feels unkind. But can I write in a way that only involves myself and people who I am absolutely sure will never read this? Do I even want to do that?

I'm worried about the blog because I'm a little sick of thinking about the business, and the two sometimes go hand in hand. I'm going to take a mental break from Square One for a couple of weeks. I have to show up for some classes and certain administrative duties, but I'm not going to worry about changing or fixing anything or trying anything new. I'm feeling a little burned out. It's not that I work too hard, exactly. It's just that I think too much about work.

I'm moving this month anyway, as my readers and friends know. It's a lot of work, and I can take this time to do it slowly, thoughtfully, carefully. In the process, I'm getting rid of what's not serving me anymore. I'm thinking now I might put the internet connection on that list. No TV, no internet. My obsessing usually centers around the laptop screen. Who's signed into class? Have sales grown in the last fifteen minutes? I have an office five blocks away from my new house. I can go in and look at reasonable intervals. What if my home were a really oasis from all that? What if my home were a place where I cook and read and rest and maybe do a little gardening in my 20 square foot yard? What would that be like? Does that sound kind of boring?

Anyway, this brings us to the end of yet another chapter in the Yoga of Small Business. Life is life. Sometimes it feels a little aimless and scattered, kind of like this entry. Hang with me, y'all! I'll get thematic again soon, or maybe I'll start working with a different medium. Maybe I'll pull out the old art supplies, which are the only unused things I'm saving in the Great Purge.

Until then, keep reading. It may be that I'm not writing about the business, which I think just needs to sit on the cooker for awhile, but I plan to keep writing. Maybe I'll turn this into the Yoga of Small Living. Just for a couple weeks. That will wear off too.

pruning

A friend who's a little older and probably a hell of a lot wiser than me told me recently that at a certain point in her life, she asked God to take anything that wasn't necessary. That way, as she put it, she could be miserable for awhile and then get on with her life.

I loved that. It made so much sense to me. I've spent so much of the last year worried about losing stuff, losing face, losing money. Now I have the same prayer. God, take it! Whatever isn't useful. Let's get it over with! Let's rip that bandage right off.

God got busy pretty quick. Within a day, I found a little cottage that had exactly the things that I've been wanting since I moved into the apartment where I live now, washer/dryer, outdoor space, big kitchen. So I took it. Doesn't sound much like pruning, does it? Except that I'm going from 1000 square feet of fully furnished living space to 450. Every stick of furniture that isn't essential has to go. I love it! I'm so tired of accumulating shit I don't need. I want it gone.

Later in the week, I had a huge blowout with a friend. It sounds very callous to say I'm pruning friends, but I am having a long, hard look at relationships. Some of my relationships are dysfunctional and kick me in the ass time after time after time. And I always go back for more. My fear, I'm sure, is of being alone. I don't have a million friends. Honestly, I'm kind of shy, and it's not that easy to get to know me. Don't I need all the friends I can get? No. Even some of the friends I love I have to let go of. They're not working. I don't have to keep trying. I'll be okay. They'll be okay, and if they're not, I probably couldn't help them much anyway.

And then today, my car got broken into. They took my little GPS. I really like that GPS. It has a lovely male British voice who tells me to "take the motorway" when I need to take the motorway. I let it guide me even when I know where I'm going. There's something soothing about never being lost. I've grown to love it. But it is an unnecessary possession. My phone has GPS. It doesn't talk to me, but it will get me from A to B. That's all I need, and really even that is a luxury I've done without 31 of the last 33 years.

I don't mind that my car got broken into. I just don't care. It makes me a tiny bit sad to think of my British friend Tom Tom being traded for a hit of crack, but I can bear it. Easily.

There are things that I am terrified of losing. My dog. My business. My family. My health. I hope God doesn't try to teach me any REALLY important lessons right now. But there is a lot that I am ready to see go. The idea with pruning of course is that what comes back is better, healthier, more vibrant. It's hurts at first, maybe, but it paves the way for better things. I'm ready! Bring it on.

Meanwhile, the business is growing. I have all my big plans, a new pricing structure, new marketing ideas, enormous new goals. But not because there's something wrong. I just like change, and I love growth. I want to keep making it better, more useful and more effective for more people. That's my job. Pruning helps.

operation double attendance

Ok, I have an ambitious goal. And a really bad name for it. I want to see twice as many people come into Square One in June than in April. Is that too much, too high of a goal? June is when the yoga business goes into the summer slumps. Thirty days is not very long. What in the world am I going to do to make it happen?

I don't know, but I have a few ideas. Postcards. Press releases. Smartly placed google and facebook ads.

But I reallly need your help too. We still have referral cards you can give to everyone you know that will get them into their first class for free. If I get ten back with your name on it, you'll get something nice. I don't know what. I think one time I said a free class. Maybe a tee shirt too? But do it because getting more people to square one is a win-win-win. You (in your new tee shirt) and your friends are happy because you do yoga together at the absolute friendliest, best priced yoga space in the whole Bay Area. Square One gets strong and healthy and fiscally strong and keeps growing so more people get to do yoga. Simple, huh? Cards are in the hall. Take a lot, and let me if we run out. I have more!!

So the challenge is to double attendance in two months. It's a big puzzle how to do it, but I think we can. Do you have any good guerrilla marketing ideas to pass along? Let me know! Share them on this blog. Let's make this happen!

Update: I am changing the pricing structure in June to sliding scale 10/12/14. There will be a $12 minimum if you use plastic. Unlimited memberships will be 75/85/95. Five class packs 47//56//65. Eleven class packs will be 100/115/130. We'll have names for the levels on the scale like low, mid and supporter.

Update #2: I'm tired, but no longer angry. I don't hate myself for blowing up. It's something to watch about myself, but just more evidence that I'm part of the human race, which is perfectly fine by me.

rage

Today presented lots of evidence that I am definitely not perfect yet. Even with all the yoga, I am still human, y'all. I lost my shit, once again, on another human being. I punched a wall and used the word "fuck" in several very personal, very loud and very angry insults.

(When I told the story later to a friend, she laughed at me because I used the side of my hand. Punching drywall is painful. She promised me that next time she's on this coast, she'll teach me the joy of a real fist. I hope maybe I won't need to know that by then.)

Anyway, this time it wasn't a landlord or a telephone customer service rep or a gas station attendant. Nope. It was a friend. I'm not going to get into whether she was wrong or not. I mean, really, does it matter? The point is that in many ways, my life and my behavior still feel totally out of control.

Self restraint is a complete mystery to me. I'm baffled by it. I've been trying to find the point in my interaction today when I could have walked away and gone to find my center again. I don't know when that point was. I was driven, like a crazy person, to keep myself in the argument until the time came when I was absolutely overcome by rage. Once the rage hit, it was a little bit like being out of my body. I knew as it was happening that I was acting insane. I could also see it in her face. I crossed the line from regular old everyday anger to something much closer to violence. But my body kept yelling and screaming and punching shit and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I was incapable in that moment of practicing self restraint.

A lot of you who know me or read my blog will point out that I quit drinking and smoking and snorting coke, but all I can tell you is that didn't happen because of self restraint. I think that if we're lucky, with the big stuff, the addictions, we get a little grace. If we've really had enough, it just falls away.

With the more subtle stuff, there's some work to do. The truth is, I have no idea how to go about it. Go back to therapy? Okay, maybe. But I can't really afford to do that right now, so get your butts to Square One. Your yoga teacher needs to pay her therapist.

Which actually brings me back to what I intended to write about when I sat down tonight: getting more butts into square one. Stay tuned...

a little dispassion

May is looking good. So far, we have made sales goals everyday. If we keep this up, I might be able to rub a few dollars together and do something extravagant. Or, God forbid, save a little.

Here's the really good news. I'm not excited about it. I don't feel any joy directly attributable to the fact that the yoga studio is pulling in enough money to support me and all my small animals. I'm happy enough. I'm working hard and really enjoying my work, but for once, my mood is not directly determined by how well the business is doing.

When things aren't going well, and I'm depressed and worried about it, I particularly want to change my mood by telling myself to be dispassionate, to let go of results, etc., etc., but the high times are fun! I don't usually want to be dispassionate when things are going great. Seeing the business succeed is a rush. There's nothing like it.

But I like this. Maybe if I don't let myself get too high with the highs, the lows won't be so devastating. I know now that it always changes. Five days of high attendance and sales can be followed my fifteen days of mediocre sales and low attendance. Five great days can also be followed by more and more great days. Both things can be true simultaneously. It really doesn't matter much. There's not too much need to get excited.