Rooted in You

I handed the teller a water-laden check, praying it wouldn’t disintegrate before I cashed it.  “It’s a little wet outside”, I told her in an apologetic tone.  Without words, she looked out the small window, smiled, and then picked up the check with her first finger and thumb, pinky extended, as if I might be lying about the source of the check’s drenched nature.  Twenty dollars later, I walked to my car with sopping wet blops of snow running down my glasses.  “Crap, I can’t see anything.  Well, I supposed I shouldn’t drive in this state.”  Taking a few moments before I hitting the road, I wiped my lenses clear.

I think Wyoming is preparing me for my trip back East.  The snow in Wyoming is usually dry, light, and fluffy.  I love it.  Often times it feels fake and weightless compared to the snow I was raised with.  But, today, it’s dreadfully soggy, like the snow back home.

I was born and raised in western PA and spent over 10 years in northeast OH.   Tomorrow I’m flying back to visit family and friends.  I’m excited to see familiar and loving faces, but traveling is always a challenge.  Not just the changes in food, activities, and time zones, but as my friend Sally recently put it, “How do I stay firmly rooted in me when I go home?”

We’ve all had this experience.  You leave home for college, work, etc.  You develop and cultivate a deeper sense of self, feeling more secure and comfortable in your own skin…until you go back to the place where you had a terrible overbite, braces, and people have home videos of you singing and pretending to be Debbie Gibson.  Fantastic.  How do you locate yourself in the mix of family and friends who have these filters?  Because, believe me, there will be someone out there who will remember you as a bully, as a sweetheart, or as a wannabe Solid Gold Dancer when you were five.  More importantly, how do you see these same people and situations clearly?

You can’t change what others think or how they perceive you.  Whether you are with family or your everyday co-workers and neighbors, the only person you can truly change and effect is you.  As you firmly root into yourself, you cultivate a sense of acceptance.  You can be okay with who you are, withstand other’s opinions and filters, and see people more clearly for who they are (without your preconceived notions and expectations of them).

How does one do this?  It takes courage, but I’m going to throw out a few suggestions for being more firmly rooted in you, whether you are journeying to your homeland or trying to get comfortable in your everyday life.

-       Write down three traits that are unique and that you love about YOU. Put them on a post-it note where you will see them everyday, i.e., a planner, computer, bathroom mirror, fridge, etc.  Look at it and even add to it for at least 40 days.

-       Get physically rooted.  There is a correlation between the mental concept of rooting and our physical bodies.   Do warrior 1 & 2 poses or stand in mountain pose for at least 5 slow breaths.  Getting outdoors will also help you feel more grounded and a 15-minute walk by yourself is great for clearing your head…and clearing your filter.

-       With a loved one, share one thing about you they don’t know…even if you don’t think they’ll like it.  I’m almost certain that your best friend will still love you even if you’re a closet Star Trek junkie or you believe in aliens.  Start with a loved one you trust. The more you can build self-confidence around people who love you, the more it will reinforce that you are okay being you.   With this new confidence you will feel more secure and rooted even when people have a different view.

As life goes on it becomes tiring to keep up the character you invented for yourself, and so you relapse into individuality and become more like yourself everyday.  This is sometimes disconcerting for those around you, but a great relief to the person concerned. – Agatha Christie

Climbing Up: It’s Only Half the Journey

There are times we all feel like we are climbing some sort of mountain…a mountain of bills, the uphill climb towards sanity, reaching the heights of success, carrying a relationship.  There’s a lot of climbing and struggle on the long ascending path to our goals.  But do we ever think about the way down? And is the coming down all that bad?

On a physical level…I would have to say yes.  Ask anyone who’s been on a hiking or backpacking trip with me.  I hate the descent.  The footing is unsure, I’m tired from the uphill climb, gravity has its own laws that I’m convinced I can argue and win.  It’s about this time in the hiking process that my knees start crunching, and I’m convinced that I’ve done irreparable harm to my body. “Why?! Why do I have to love mountains so much?  Why do I do this to myself?”

It is at this point that I would say the mental aspect of coming down isn’t so hot either.  At some point, after reaching the top of the mountain, a part of my brain says, “I’m done.  I’ve reached the apex, the goal, now I want to go home.”   My psyche cracks. I usually start crying, irrationally confident that I will be stuck on the side of a mountain, freezing in my sleep with hiking poles clutched in the grips of struggle.

Luckily, my husband has seen this a hundred times over and has found the solution to my seemingly bleak prospects of leaving the trail where I have crumpled into a sobbing mess.  A Snickers bar.  Maybe it’s the sugar, maybe it’s a shiny distraction that snaps me out of the mental cloudburst of despair.  All I know is that it works.  After having this repeat performance on almost every long hike or backpacking trip, I believe that the simple act of stopping to eat this deliciousness brings me into the present moment on another goal-driven process to get home.  I sit, I look at my surroundings, I breathe, I savor those 6-8 bites of heaven, I do a little yoga.  A magical, mental re-grouping happens.

I’ve been brought right back into the process of the entire hike: the energy at the beginning of the trail, beautiful surroundings and clean air, views from the top, breaks for snacks and talking, time for reflection, getting back to the car, a much appreciated beverage and warm meal on the way home.  I’m not focused on the end goal of getting to the top or getting home.  Because, no matter how much I fight it, being that I haven’t mastered the yogic skill of teleportation, I have to go through the process of hiking down.

Often, we find a sense of worth in accomplishing a specific goal unaware that after the long climb towards its attainment, there’s an equally challenging and beautiful descent.  It’s on this descent that we often want to bail.  “Yay, we had a beautiful wedding…What?! We have to work on this marriage?”  “I just got promoted to CEO! A dream come true…except, crap, I will never dream again, because I can’t reach the REM stage with only 2 hours of sleep a night.”  There’s always some great apex that we think will signify a sense of being done.  But, in reality, are we ever done?

The physical act of backpacking has made this mental concept very concrete for me.  When there are challenges in my life, I have the tendency to want to bail: on a new relationship, a new project at work, or, hell, work all together.  But when you are on the way down a mountain you can’t bow out, especially if you like running water and your loved ones.  You have to keep going.  Maybe you choose a different route.  Maybe you stop and enjoy a period of rest.  This becomes the goal: learning to enjoy and accept the process…the ups and, especially, the downs.