Retreat. Let the world run without you for a little while. Watch the cars pass by. Notice the people go rushing to and fro. You’ll feel insecure about pausing to look. It feels weird to stop acting when you’ve been an active creature your entire life. Notice how it feels to stop whatever you’re doing, and just observe the world for a moment. You might even begin to notice a rhythm or energy about the day, notice the temperature, the way your body feels in the environment, the air around your body. The way certain people take up space and share energy in your surroundings. And then notice your heartbeat. Is the tempo slow, or fast? Are you breathing? All of these little factors make up our reality even though we may not realize it while we move about our day. This awareness is a form of Yoga, and to retreat and simplify focus is incredibly good for sensory integration sensitivities (SIS) and seasonal affective disorder (SAD). It is especially essential to find moments to turn down social connection and simply observe in New York City. The image that comes to mind is a school of fish. As if we were all a part of the school of fish looking forward only at the next fish in front of us, we can never become fully aware of the entire school or how you play a part in it. It helps to retreat from the rushing current of the school to see every fish on its own and how they make up the whole. And sometimes it helps to take a break just to rejuvenate from a long “swim.” Whether fish or human, taking time to retreat makes diving in and being a part of the whole that much more complexly beautiful and rewarding.

Yesterday, I enjoyed spending with my brother, his girlfriend, and her mother who’s visiting from Denver. We all share a love of musicals, so we found discount tickets to If/Then, which ended up being amazing (I’ve seen her performances from Rent, Wicked, The Wild Party, and they’ve all consistently blown me away).

From there, we took a memorable trip to the 9/11 Memorial and Museum. We first stopped at the memorial: two box-shaped caverns plummeting down into an expansive shallow pool where the twin towers used to stand. A steady stream of water falls from the top of the installation curving in with clear and smooth lines. On the outermost edges of the installations are the names of the victims from the attacks. What moved me was someone from the memorial staff was assigned to place a flower on inscribed victims’ names on the day of their birthday. I saw two white flowers particularly on the memorial yesterday.

Inside, we walk through the infrastructure of what used to be the twin towers. Bent rusting metal rafters hung low through the building almost like new-age art installations. We observed about 4 hours of audio, video, photography,  and street-belongings. Everything people left behind in the white dusty rubble, all of their phone calls to loved ones, the news reports that followed, it all blew me away.

I was only 10 years old when the World Trade Towers got hit. My school system decided not to tell students why we were being pulled out of school at 9:30 in the morning, instead leaving that task to our parents. I was so excited to be let out of school, and wasn’t sure why everyone was so angry, sad, and confused. One girl in particular was pulled out of my class before the rest of us. Once again, we weren’t sure why this was happening, or what was going on.

Looking back at the event now, I realize 3,000 lives were lost that day, 65,000 jobs and 20,000 residents were driven out of the area. The people of New York City would never be the same, and some wondered if the community could make it through the toughest moments in rebuilding what had been lost of the community. It reminds me of Mother Teresa’s poem, Anyway:

“People are often unreasonable, illogical and self centered;
Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.
The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you’ve got anyway.
You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and your God;
It was never between you and them anyway.”

After the memorial, my friends and family went to a jazz bar in the West Village. As we sat in our cozy booth in the midst of the enormous crowd, I couldn’t help but feel hopeful that New York wasn’t finished telling the story of its triumph. We were just beginning, and sitting there listening to the music of New York with a crowd of intimate strangers, I knew I belonged in this city.

You can get tickets to the Museum here: http://www.911memorial.org/node/1031371

The Law of Attraction

I am a firm believer in the power of magnets. I love how certain parts of a magnet literally repel other magnets while the opposite side attracts. I think magnets’ intrinsic properties offer mystifying evidence into a larger picture of attraction and repulsion that expands even into our conscious human nature.  Our bodies can be understood as a type of evolved magnet. We can sense with our sensations, feelings, and thoughts what we like and don’t like. This mind+body system of clarification categorizes our environment and helps us understand our destiny with unlocked clarity. I like to think of this magnetic clarity as a path-illuminating alchemy to self-realization.

Today, notice if you are drawn to or away from a situation, something, or someone. Without guilt, feel the instinctual emotion and acknowledge its presence. Ask yourself: Where do I feel this attraction or repulsion in my body? How do I know I am attracted/repulsed? Take this awareness and guiltlessly notice your instinctual attraction and repulsion. Do these likes and dislikes match up with your ultimate choices?

Action comes from attraction, and expulsion comes from repulsion.

Now go out and fly.

Lindsay

Finding the Right Space for Yourself

In New York City, it is nearly impossible to find a space that doesn’t require an occupancy fee. Wasn’t there some guy that was quoted saying, “There is no free lunch?” Even finding a nice place to sit can be incredibly difficult, with lunch rush hours expelling workers from office buildings to fill every last seat in parks and delis. What the city seems to be meant for is a) running and b) working. Those who run are running to work, and those who are working are working to get back to running. In terms of finding a safe, quiet, and sacred space, it seems we’ve created quite the challenge for ourselves…is there any hope for stillness amidst all the city clamor and chaos?

Personally, I’ve taken small steps towards maintaining a sacred space. I’ve taken it upon myself to sage my apartment every few weeks. I practice mindful meditation for ten minutes before going to bed and immediately after waking up in the morning. I slowly count my breaths as I walk down the busy streets. Sometimes I wear earplugs when the noise gets too extreme for my senses.

But more importantly, I’ve started practicing cultivation of my own sacred space by embodying the right to be still.

What do I mean by that? By embodying the right to be still, we give credence to our wiser and calmer nature and realize that there is a lot of productivity in stillness. It’s as if we’ve signed a contract with ourselves that we have made a mind+body retreat to excavate the junk, and we become super aware of our individual self just for a moment.

At our best, I believe the most advanced yogis are able to create a safe space by radiating their calming energy around them. Like a shaman shining light in the dark, these people are capable of enriching the feeling or “vibe” of a room.

However, I realize New York City poses the utmost challenge to even the calmest characters, with so many elements and factors to catch us off our guard. You just miss your train, get stuck in traffic, or have a miscommunication with a coworker, friend, or family member. All of these things can challenge our stability, and ultimately can hinder our ability to surrender to blissful stillness.

Ironically, I would guess that 99.9% of New Yorkers want to be able to find balance in stillness inside of them just as much as the rest of us do. There is no clean-cut answer to finding balance and stillness in a chaotic environment, whether in New York City, Chicago, or Detroit. However, what we do have control over some key players in our own system:

Breath
Listen to the breath, the texture of it running in and out of the lungs, the space it fills as you inhale, and the muscles that engage as you exhale. Count breaths as you go throughout your day. As you travel throughout your day, I personally challenge you to count your breaths to 100. It’s harder to do than it sounds.

Body Awareness
Check in with your body’s posture when you are in an uncomfortable situation: are your shoulders up? Is your jaw clenched? Are the shoulders rounded forward? Do a self-check and ask yourself where the body secretly might be holding tension.

Thought Awareness
Become aware of your inner voice. Does it sound nice to you? Or maybe does it say things that make you feel bad about yourself, and think a certain way about the world? Begin to notice your thinking “style.”

These simple techniques are a jolt of medicine; they instantly zoom me back into my body. Once I’m back in, I can tell what it is I need in order to feel better. But many times, the answer comes in waves of blissful silence. In the quiet, a whispering voice sometimes speaks up and calls to me: “Everything you need is already inside you. You have been and will continue to be whole.” Before I can memorize the sound and spirit of the voice speaking to me, it is gone, and I am back in my pursuit to find stillness. I like to think that when we quiet the mind, the real and true essence of our spirit and body can return to its seat at the heart.

In stillness, the gift of personal growth arrives.

Now go out and fly.

Lindsay

I remember as a child how I would sing along with the birds outside of my house; I always started out listening, so I could learn their tones and tunes fully. I then slowly began to sing their song. I would choose the bird’s song that stuck out to me the most, and I would repeat it like a call and response. I would sing louder and louder, testing my limits with the flock, until they would eventually all fall silent. As much as I wanted to sound like the group, they could tell my tone was unfamiliar and forced. Then, about five minutes would go by before they all started singing again. For minutes that turned into hours, I would sing with the birds desperately trying to have the flock embrace me as their own. I was desperate to sing with them and be accepted through repeating their songs. However, they never did. I would walk inside my house hours later knowing that what I had just experienced was bigger than myself. I was already feeling part of a new community, yet still also felt separate and I wasn’t sure why.

Years since, I have shared similar experiences with my associates, friends and family. I sometimes would find myself shadowing their actions, because it seemed like the right thing to do. I would listen to my friends and followed in order to find happiness. However, these choices would sometimes lead me down a path that made me feel unlike my best self. Because I was not being my authentic self, I was not embracing the most enlightened form of who I could be. I was taking the rocky path with no shoes on.

What the birds taught me is this: You must embrace your own song in order to be a part of the flock. Being different is what makes you a part of the whole. Because there is no one like you, you are especially essential to the universe. There are more than a million songs inside of you simply waiting to be sung; all humming with opportunity.

To celebrate your uniqueness is to liberate your genuine best self.

Go out and fly.

Lindsay