When it rains (snows)... it pours.
I have 4 big projects with deadlines that somehow all seemed to merge into the same week. Next week, to be exact.
I've come to realize that there is an ebb and flow to everything. Like last week, I think I posted 3 times on this blog. This week, zero, until today. Since this blog is more for a creative outlet and space for random musings, I don't hold myself to any particular number as far as frequency of writing here.
Or one week, I might walk some, practice yoga, try an online barre3 video. On another week, I may not have the energy for anything else but yoga.
Or, I might spend a whole afternoon cooking and baking up a storm (I like how Faith calls it a "kitchen rampage"). Then a week later, I just want takeout, when the only effort I can muster goes into opening the bag of food.
It's true with work as well. Some weeks are better than others. Some weeks, I feel like I have it all together and other weeks, I ask myself, "what the heck am I doing???"
I've come to realize that the balance also comes from being ok with this ebb and flow. Accepting what is.
Because it's all a matter of perspective. Or so I remind myself, when the anxiety hits. Life is never perfect. We'll never "reach" that so-called perfectly balanced state. I don't think it's a balanced state as much as it is a balanced perspective.
It's balancing the expectation of the task with my knowledge of myself. Not this lopsided view of overestimating the task and underestimating my abilities, as I tend to do.
As I sit here watching the infamous "lake effect" snow fall outside my window, I am reminded of my time at the beach in the Philippines this past December and January. The ebb and flow of the tide, and how soothing it was in its rhythm.
I remember inhaling and exhaling with this ebb and flow, feeling this sense of calm just wash over me with every gentle wave that laps at the shore. Aaaahhh. The magic of the ocean.
But without this beloved tropical beach outside my door, I rely on my breathing once more. I visualize the steadiness of the tide.
And slowly, with the ebb and flow of my own breathing, I notice my heartbeat is no longer racing. My jaws loosen. My shoulders start to relax away from my ears, bit by bit.
Somehow, my breathing also silences the inner critic, and I find hidden underneath the anxiety is a source of energy and wisdom.
And that was my short-but-sweet five-minute yoga practice.
I have 4 big projects with deadlines that somehow all seemed to merge into the same week. Next week, to be exact.
I've come to realize that there is an ebb and flow to everything. Like last week, I think I posted 3 times on this blog. This week, zero, until today. Since this blog is more for a creative outlet and space for random musings, I don't hold myself to any particular number as far as frequency of writing here.
Or one week, I might walk some, practice yoga, try an online barre3 video. On another week, I may not have the energy for anything else but yoga.
Or, I might spend a whole afternoon cooking and baking up a storm (I like how Faith calls it a "kitchen rampage"). Then a week later, I just want takeout, when the only effort I can muster goes into opening the bag of food.
It's true with work as well. Some weeks are better than others. Some weeks, I feel like I have it all together and other weeks, I ask myself, "what the heck am I doing???"
I've come to realize that the balance also comes from being ok with this ebb and flow. Accepting what is.
Because it's all a matter of perspective. Or so I remind myself, when the anxiety hits. Life is never perfect. We'll never "reach" that so-called perfectly balanced state. I don't think it's a balanced state as much as it is a balanced perspective.
It's balancing the expectation of the task with my knowledge of myself. Not this lopsided view of overestimating the task and underestimating my abilities, as I tend to do.
 |
| Boracay, Philippines | December 2012 |
As I sit here watching the infamous "lake effect" snow fall outside my window, I am reminded of my time at the beach in the Philippines this past December and January. The ebb and flow of the tide, and how soothing it was in its rhythm.
I remember inhaling and exhaling with this ebb and flow, feeling this sense of calm just wash over me with every gentle wave that laps at the shore. Aaaahhh. The magic of the ocean.
But without this beloved tropical beach outside my door, I rely on my breathing once more. I visualize the steadiness of the tide.
And slowly, with the ebb and flow of my own breathing, I notice my heartbeat is no longer racing. My jaws loosen. My shoulders start to relax away from my ears, bit by bit.
Somehow, my breathing also silences the inner critic, and I find hidden underneath the anxiety is a source of energy and wisdom.
And that was my short-but-sweet five-minute yoga practice.
