It’s all about balance… well, mostly

ImageArt is a pretty sedentary activity. Luckily my other love is exercise of many different forms. One of my favorites- yoga. Often times during the relaxation period at the end of class when my thoughts are flowing gently ideas are formed, solutions uncovered, connections made. This morning, however, my revelation came during a balance pose. Having a revelation during a balance pose, by the way, can make you topple, so I gently tucked in the back of my brain to ponder over later. Now is later.

Imagine this: You’re trying a pose that seems unfamiliar, unnatural- say, for example, something on one foot (or in this case, on your head). You wobble, you teeter. Then what do you do? You laugh self-consciously or panic, you scrunch up, you shrink in, you become smaller. Do that, however, and you most assuredly will fall. However, if you keep your poise, lift up, expand with control, stretch out and grow you have a much better chance at success.

It seems to me that the same thing happens when we meet challenges or unfamiliar territory (or even just awkward situations) in life. If we become self-conscious, fearful of failure, insecure, and shrink into our small, seemingly safe little box, we most assuredly lose our balance. Instead, expand with control (“with control” being the optimum phrase here). Stretch. Be strong and test your limits. You still may fall, but I can almost guarantee it will be with more grace. And if you don’t fall? Congrats.

I’m not writing this from a position of authority. I’m really writing this TO myself. This is my challenge for myself in the upcoming year- to live expansively, generously, openly, un-self-consciously, without fear and shrinking… and if I fall, to fall with grace, then get back up and try again.

Splits and Hurdles

In a yoga class this morning the instructor announced that we would be doing splits today. Excuse me? She wasn’t talking about banana splits. She meant real, my-body-doesn’t-do-that splits. Amid everyone’s protests she reminded us that in yoga, as in many things in life, it’s the journey that counts.

I’ve been craving instant gratification in another area. This picture:

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What is it with me and almost impossible pine cones??

which I feel will NEVER be finished. I can’t slide down into the splits and I can’t snap my fingers and make this painting finished. And if I could, what then? New poses that I can’t automatically do and new paintings the I can’t finish in a session.

Little by little I can work towards difficult poses and little by little I can conquer difficult paintings. I may never be able to fully do the splits, but my body will still benefit from mindful and careful attempts. I may never be a wildly successful and famous artist, but I will still benefit from daily brush strokes. There’s a reason why yoga is referred to as a “practice,” perhaps I should think of painting as a practice, too.

Bodies in Motion…

…stay in motion.

This is what went through my mind the other day when, as I was running with my little sidekick in her jogging stroller a neighbor said, “You have so much energy!” I laughed (a sort of panting, half laugh), but the fact of the matter is that I exercise in order to have energy. It’s a vicious cycle, but the less I exercise, the less I feel like exercising, so the less I exercise, so the less I feel like exercising, etc.  I’m sure you all know what I mean. As I ran along thinking this it occurred to me that creativity is the same way. If I’m creating, I’m constantly inspired and ideas seem to flow. If, however, I sit around waiting for inspiration it never comes and my well runs dry.

In painting, as in exercising, there are days when I feel like I just don’t have it in me. However, I’ve realized I very rarely feel better because I “rested.” Instead I usually feel annoyed with myself, short-tempered, off-center. So, on the days when painting seems like a monumental task (because anything you’re committed to will, at times, be hard work), I tell myself I’m just going to “show up.” I savor the ritual of laying out my paints on my palette; I dab at my colors, mixing, experimenting; I touch up just this tiny section. Usually, by this point, either I’m feeling better and back in my element, or I’ve uncovered the real source of my resistance (“I hate this subject,” or, “I’m bored with this size,” or often, “I’m scared I won’t be able to pull this off.”).

You’re allowed to walk. You’re allowed to take it easy. You’re allowed to have off days. The important thing is to keep moving.