How Yoga Helped Me Discover the Truth of Who I Am and How I Want to Feel

Danielle LaPorte's Desire Map Planner lay on the table beside me as I sat down to start this blog post. I've had the idea for the post stirring around in my head for over a month but every time I've tried to write I find myself tangled in details that don't matter and I struggle to get to the heart of what I need to say. When I looked at the cover and saw the question suggested by the planner – What Will You Do to Feel the Way You Want to Feel – I realized I'm already doing one thing that brings me closer to feeling a few of the feels I most desire and it's exactly that thing I want to write about. Maybe I've found my way through the thicket of ideas.

See...I wanted to share with you how yoga saved my life, which I realize sounds utterly over dramatic. 

And perhaps even a bit foolish after I pulled my hamstring by pushing myself deeper into a challenging pose four weeks ago (I'm still recovering, by the way.)

Honestly though, when I revisited yoga this summer after a year long hiatus, I did it because I needed something to quiet the broken-hearted, angry voice in my head that kept telling me that no one loved me, no one would ever love me. That voice had become so loud in the months since moving to Chattanooga that it paralyzed me. To be fair, I already knew physical activity worked better than anything else to quiet my inner critic. Yet, for months I had felt so anchored by the weight of believing the things she said, the things other people said that made me feel worthless, that breaking free of that inertia felt impossible. But I tried. After months of hating myself and my life here, and one especially dark and painful night, I decided I had to find my thing that would allow me to pour all the energy spent feeling miserable into healing. I realized I hated the gyms in Chattanooga. Zumba classes seemed sparse. Pure Barre felt incredible and challenging, but dear Lord, the cost! I enjoy running, but not when it turns hot and humid or too cold. And while I discovered that I love hiking and water sports, you can't really pursue those alone.

So, one day this summer, I pulled out my yoga mat and I haven't looked back. I love power yoga and especially the style of Kurt Johnsen from American Power Yoga. His videos are hard to find online, so I ended up discovering an app called Asana Rebel that has become a big part of my practice.

Before long, that sad and broken voice in my head quieted down. 

Another voice started coming through...one who said things like, "Wow! You just held a plank for two minutes!" One who, rather than telling me I shouldn't bother getting out of bed because my life had no meaning, told me to get my ass on the yoga mat and make that inner critic STFU. I felt better. Actually, not just better, but at peace. For the first time in a long time, I chose joy and the things that made me feel happy over wallowing in my pain. Each day as I continued working toward a daily yoga practice, I not only felt more peaceful and calmer, I began to feel a sense of accomplishment and pride in my effort. Not feelings I had felt a lot since giving up my marketing job to move to a city where I hadn't found work.

And...for the first time ever – or at least since my 20s – I realized I didn't hate my body. Well, at least not quite as much. In fact, I began to see and appreciate both my body's strength and its beauty as yoga transformed both my body and the way I saw myself. Ive spent most of my lifetime hating my body. Even as a 113-lb. bikini-clad 22-year old. I feel sad that I couldn't love myself then or see how I really looked to others. Even now as I've progressed I still struggle with that, but I know I'm getting better. Finally, at 47, I can accept my body, appreciate its ability to change and grow stronger and see its beauty, even as I recognize its flaws.

Most remarkably, I've stopped comparing myself to other women. 

Yoga philosophy consistently stresses the idea that competition and comparison have no place in our yoga practice. Rather, yoga provides the opportunity to advance at your own pace, build your physical and inner strength as you discover resources within yourself you did not previously recognize, and to go deep within yourself to awaken parts of your being you tried to tame or repress. Yoga allows you put aside any comparison to others, any fear of being judged, so that you can connect with your true self and rediscover the joy of loving your self and living authentically.

So, when I say yoga saved my life, I'm not exaggerating. Yoga helped me, still helps me, accept myself, love myself, and live fully as myself, whether anyone else likes me or not. In fact, as I began this journey I realized that if I wanted to accept myself, I had to be okay with letting people see the real me. I began posting selfies that I knew might look unflattering. No makeup. Sweaty. In poses that revealed the things I felt most ashamed of like tummy rolls or chubby arms. I had to let myself sit with that shame and fear that the Queen Bees I once compared myself to would see that and laugh. Or my husband would see it and cringe. Sometimes the only way past a feeling is to feel it. And I did. As I exposed myself I realized that some people saw more than my flaws. My fellow yogis saw commitment, effort, a desire to grow and learn and connect and live fully. They cheered me on with support and advice. Friends told me they saw something in me they hadn't before. Some reached out to tell me that my yoga posts inspired them to try it themselves. Now, I feel a part of a tribe of people around the world who see truth and light and wonder and humanity in one another.

And, for the first time in a long time, I feel how I want to feel – loved, at peace, joyful, and like I'm living authentically for me and not in service of trying to emulate someone I've deemed more perfect than myself. 

At least most of the time, anyway. My journey goes on...so much remains to learn and to do and I find that incredibly thrilling and hope-inspiring. Every day does not feel perfect, yet every day offers the opportunity to breathe and feel my way through the darkness and into the light...one asana at a time.

Now, my sweet loves, decide what to be
and go be it. 

P.S. To celebrate the upcoming new year and the fact that I am very close to having my first 1,000 Instagram followers, I want to give away a gift. First, I have been so happy to be asked to become an ambassador for FGMovement.com, purveyors of activewear that does good in the world. Feel Good Movement sells inspiring activewear made from recylcled materials and for every item of clothing they sell, they donate one to groups that provide clothing for those in need. They have given me a discount code good for 30% off your order at fgmovement.com so you can start tackling your fitness goals while doing good. Just enter belleoftheblog30 at checkout.

Next, I want to give one lucky reader or follower the gift of my favorite uplifting essential oil, Young Living Joy. A beautiful blend of jasmine, rose, citrus, and other oils designed to raise your vibration, Joy smells amazing and does a wonderful job lifting your spirit. For your chance to win, leave a comment, follow me on Instagram, leave me a comment on IG telling me why you do yoga or what you do to quiet your inner critic, and tag a friend on Instagram who needs to read this post.

Now, Weary Traveler, Rest Your Head

Last March I set out to change my life and to regain the joy I had lost over time. It felt like everything had fallen apart. I had long ago abandoned who I was to try and be the woman I thought I was supposed to be for my husband and children, friends, community. I wouldn't say I wasn't “me,” but I toned down who I was, subdued my enthusiasm for life somewhat. I gave up pursuing a career I loved to stay at home and raise kids, which I wish I could say I didn’t regret, but I do, more and more, as I see how hard it is to get back into the workforce. 

I gave up the first full-time job I had had in 12 years to move to a new, smaller, ultra-conservative city, where everyone knows everyone else and it felt as if I’d never meet anyone. Of course, my husband had the advantage of moving here 7 months before the rest of us to start his new job. Living a bachelor lifestyle free of kids, he had the luxury of exploring on his own and the freedom to make friends with no constraints. 

By January, after the whirlwind of getting settled here subsided, I felt miserable. I’ve never liked lingering in misery or sorrow. But I just couldn’t seem to escape it. And I've written about this before, but it bears repeating that reading this blog post by James Altucher was the light I needed during my dark night of the soul. In fact, I just re-read it and plan to revisit his process again. But not today. Or tomorrow.

Now, I rest.

For months, I’ve been reinventing myself. Rediscovering who I really am. What I love. Thinking about where I want to be and who I want to be. 

I’ve worked hard to make new friends and I’ve found some wonderful, smart, courageous, strong and inspiring women here that I’m connecting with. And I feel blessed.

I’ve deepened relationships with my tribe from Atlanta (with apologies to Anne who hates that term, but likes squad even less, I think). After joining them for three girls’ trips in the last year – a gift I had never given myself – and communicating almost daily now, I feel a unique and truly beautiful bond to these women that I love deeply.

I found an outlet for writing by becoming a contributor to the Chattanooga Moms Blog. I felt nervous and inadequate at first, despite having blogged on my own for years, but four or five months in now and many of my fellow contributors have become part of my Chattanooga squad (ha!) and I feel validated as a writer after having several of my posts in the top 10 most read posts. 

I took on the role of Home & School President at my younger son’s school and helped plan a pretty kick-ass fall festival despite my fears it would be a disaster. And I’ve made some very dear friends in the process who stepped up and helped out when I really needed it!

I’ve tried new things and discovered that I love them, hiking and stand-up paddle boarding among them. I will definitely continue to pursue both activities as much as time and resources allow.

And maybe my favorite thing that I’ve done is to re-engage with yoga. I’ve done yoga since I was in college, but never allowed myself to build a consistent practice. This summer, after it got too hot and humid to enjoy running (a sport I’ve never loved anyway), and after my trial membership at Pure Barre ran out, I decided to take up yoga again. And as I committed to working out daily, I realized I was falling in love, not only with building a yoga practice, but with myself. I’ve never been a big fan of Dawn. I know her faults too well. And I was never comfortable appreciating her strengths. And don’t get me started on my body. I’ve been fat since day 1. Literally. Six weeks premature and I weighed 8 lbs, thanks to my mom’s diabetes.

Over the last several months, as I’ve committed to doing yoga every day that I can, I’ve discovered some cool things about my body and my spirit. Two important things I’ve learned through all the physical activity I’ve engaged in the last few months is how much I love it and that I’m capable of it. That in turn has made me appreciate my body and see its beauty for the first time ever. 

So, what’s my point?  The point is, I’m tired. I’ve been working really hard to build a new life for myself. To maintain a baseline level of joy and to rise above that as often as I can. I’m working toward some specific goals – I want to help other women who are experiencing transitions in life do so with grace and joy and to avoid the pitfalls of self-pity and bitterness I fell into. And I’d like to figure out how to make a living doing that. And I know I’ll get there, but today I need to rest.

A big part of my transition has been finding like-minded people, both in my real world community and in the virtual yoga and spiritual/mindfulness world I’ve been delighted to become a part of. I have found so much support and encouragement there. But twice in the last week, two critical messages have popped up multiple times for me. 

The first is that it really is okay not to be okay. I can be a happy person and a person who doesn’t wallow in misery and still have days when I don’t feel happy. I can allow myself to feel sad that I didn’t get a particular job or that something I need is out of my reach. I can feel that and still know that the feeling is temporary and that I can do the work I need to do to achieve my goal or reach my desire. I needed to hear that and just when I did, one of the inspiring people I follow on Instagram shared this image:

And the other message, similar in spirit, is that it’s okay to hit the pause button and give yourself rest. I don’t want to lose momentum and it’s really hard for me to know that I am not where I want to be. But I am gaining and growing so much from the process and I’m so much further along the path than I was this time last year when my world began to unravel…. I’m stopping to catch my breath and realize I’ve had a pretty amazing and intense year of growth that even included a surprise trip to New Orleans last week for my best friend's elopement. Life doesn’t get much better than that. 

Having both my kids get sick this week along with a rejection for what seemed like a cool writing job definitely slowed my roll. Then, I saw this image from another Instagram inspiration and got the same message the same day in a horoscope reading from Kelly Lunt, a local spiritual and abundant living guru. 

So, I’ve decided to listen. If I truly love myself, I need to be okay loving myself even when it feels like I’m not hitting the mark. Hell…especially then. So, I’m giving myself a few days to rest. I’ll do a Full Moon ritual to release my negativity tonight. I’m going to take bubble baths and read and sleep. I’ve already cried it out and vented to my girlfriends this morning. I’m putting aside some tasks I’m not into and I’m going to lay around and watch Stranger Things with my kiddos. And, in a few days I’ll know it’s time to pick up and get on with it. But for now…rest. 

And maybe you need that, too, Sister. 

If you do, don’t be ashamed or afraid to take it. The work will be there. Give yourself the tender loving care you need to restore the energy that will carry you forward. You've got this. And so do I. 

With much love, 

Namaste.

Choose Yourself: An Introduction to Self-Care

If you move in certain circles, you may already be familiar with the term self-care. You've seen the #selfcaresunday hashtags and you may even have a balanced routine that includes taking time out to meet more than your own basic needs.

If you're where I was – oh let's say 10 or 11 years ago – you're thinking you can barely take care of all the people who depend on you. Yourself? You're the afterthought and you're probably poised somewhere between locking yourself in the bathroom for a good cry and having a full-on nervous breakdown. You're doing it all...maybe you're stuck at home with your kids all day. You're cleaning house. You're shopping and running errands, and changing diapers and washing clothes and kissing boo-boos and listening to endless stories about Pokémon and hearing about the lovely lunch and adult conversation your partner had with co-workers while you were stuck at home feeling your brain dissolve. Maybe you get out of the house for an hour or two to take the kids to a playgroup where you gorge on Goldfish and apologize to your friends for your unwashed hair and stained t-shirt, but you never really get the interaction you want with your new mom friends because you're all constantly interrupted. Maybe your story is a little different...throw in a career, rushing to pick kids up from aftercare, make dinner or grab fast food, get everyone to practice or help with homework, then crash into bed after one too many glasses of wine. The end result is the same.

You feel broken and depleted and sometimes you don't remember who you are anymore. You feel as if the essence of the woman you were before you had kids has vanished. And you feel like maybe that's how it's supposed to be. You've bought into the myth that the only way to be a good mother is to sublimate your needs for those of your child. 

I am here to tell you that this is absolutely not true. And if someone had told me this, I might not have wasted a decade or more hating myself, hating my life, falling into depression and letting the wounds in my marriage fester into wounds that could only scar over rather than being fully-healed.

September is National Self-Care Month, so this seemed like the perfect time to introduce those of you who are unfamiliar with the concept to the idea that you matter. Yes...you! And if you're not already, it's time you started devoting a little bit of time each week to yourself. (I was going to say every day, but I know some of y'all aren't ready for that.)

The first thing I want you to do is find a quiet place where you can be alone without kids or your partner for 5 or 10 minutes. In fact, here's a trick my friend K just taught me if you want to steal 20 and go get into a bubble bath while we do this exercise.... Tell your husband and kids you're having tummy troubles and you'll be in the bathroom. Lock the door, run a bubble bath, light some candles, put on some soft music, and ignore them when they inevitably come knocking. I'm not even kidding about ignoring them. If you're a single mom, you may have to wait until they're in bed, but do take a few minutes to do this exercise.

Now...close your eyes and think about the days before you were partnered up or had kids. Who were you? What did you love doing that you don't do anymore? And don't be ashamed of what you find there...we all...okay a lot of us...loved drinking and partying and having a wild time. That doesn't mean you have to do it now, but let yourself remember what it felt like to be purely yourself without worrying about what anyone else thought. Are you running a 5K or marathon? Reading a book in a quiet room while sipping tea? Did you feel most alive while hiking in Colorado or the Smoky Mountains and sleeping under the stars? Do you miss loving your body and the way you looked in certain clothes? Or having highlights in your hair? Do you see yourself sitting on the porch of a beach house laughing with your girlfriends until your snort or cry? Is there something you love doing that you quit because your partner doesn't enjoy it? Or something you love but you're worried your friends or your partner will mock you for? What makes you feel like the happiest version of yourself?

Okay...once you've got that image, the next step is to figure out the steps it takes to get you there. It won't happen overnight. Trust me.

It took me years to work up the courage to reclaim myself. In fact, I'm still discovering parts of myself that I buried. But, we're all always works in progress. the important thing is to start where you are and figure out what self-care looks like for your personally. For me, it meant taking care of my physical well-being which is closely tied to my mental health.

I was never very body confident. But after having kids it was even less so. I was ashamed and embarrassed and hurt every time my husband averted his eyes from me. But finding time to exercise felt impossible if I was going to be a "good mom" and on all the time. Part of my definition of being a good mom meant keeping a pristine house and while it wasn't June Cleaver perfect, I did okay. And honestly, while I did a yoga class once a week and occasionally walked, I was never an athlete. But there were two things I craved after having my first son: adult conversation and to feel attractive again. Through playgroups, I was able to cobble together some human interaction and eventually I met women who became life-long friends. Figuring out that I loved physical activity and where my passions lie took a lot longer. And some trial and error. But, what I was able to do, was to express to my partner the deep sadness and longing for the parts of me that were missing. And while it was difficult to ask for help, I did eventually let him know that I needed him to take care of his own kids one night a month so I could meet up with my girlfriends for a girls' night out free of children. And I made the decision to invest in myself by joining a gym and working with a trainer. My kids were in school and preschool by this point so that helped. But, I'm telling you, Mama, make time while they're little if fitness is something that matters to you or if you're struggling with your body image. I was amazed how wonderful I felt after each workout. Tapped out for sure, but stronger, healthier, and over time far more confident than I had ever been. And I wish I hadn't waited so long to care for myself.

Because here's the secret no one tells you.... When your spirit is depleted and you feel like you're nurturing everyone around you but you're not taking care of your own needs, you have less to give. It weighs on you and you get short and angry and frustrated and feel put upon. You start to resent the people you love who depend on you. And eventually, you will end up physically and emotionally wiped out.

So, if it's physical activity you crave, find a gym with childcare or sign-up with a Beachbody coach and access their online workouts and do one every day while the baby sleeps. Laundry and dust bunnies will be there later. Your sanity might not. If you want to get outdoors, ask your partner to commit to watching the kids one Saturday or Sunday a month while you go for a hike or go kayaking or whatever it is that makes your heart sing. Join a book club or Bunco group or the choir at church. Take a cooking class or pretend you're not feeling well and hide in your room reading a book. If you're single or you have a partner who refuses to help out because he works, find a girlfriend in a similar situation and trade childcare. If your parents or sister lives nearby, ask them for help. Or save $10 of grocery money a week and hire a sitter once a month so you can get out of the house and do something for yourself. Recognizing that you are a human being with needs of your own is nothing to be ashamed of.

Looking for smaller ways to start? What's your favorite type of music? Do you listen to it every day? Or do you only listen to crappy children's music? Next time you're in the car, crank up that Led Zeppelin or John Mayer or Ludacris or Sam Hunt or Miley. A bad word in a song isn't going to scar your kids and you'll have a chance to influence their future musical tastes.

Or maybe you feel more like yourself when your hair is washed and you have on makeup but you never find time to do it. This is a case where you may need to rob Peter to pay Paul by sacrificing 30 minutes of sleep in the morning. But whatever it takes, if being clean and having a little color on your face makes you feel good, then get up and do it. Shower and throw a little BB cream or tinted moisturizer on, put on a coat of mascara, and a tinted lip gloss and you're good to go. And don't let anyone make you feel ashamed for taking care of yourself. You'll be a better, happier mama for it and your kids will see that and, in turn, they will be happier.

So...what does self-care look like to you? I'd love to help you map out your path to a happier, healthier you. 

Post your answers in the comments below. Then, like Belle of the Blog on Facebook and follow @belleoftheblog on Instagram and you will be entered to win a free bottle of Young Living Stress Away essential oil. 

A Step You Can't Take Back

Last Wednesday, my kids, husband, and I said goodbye to the home we lived in for nearly 16 years. It was not easy.

Aside from the grueling physical and material aspects of moving – countless trips up and down stairs and ladders to the attic and basement, lifting boxes, making endless lists and calling dozens of businesses related to the move, and, of course the costs – the emotional side weighed heavy on my heart. So much happened in this house.... Two sons were born and grew into sweetly funny and loving young boys, one nearly a man at thirteen. A baby girl was lost before the idea of her could fully bloom. New friends came into our lives, some staying for the long haul, and others moving on before I was ready for them to go. I treasure those who stayed and still feel grateful for having known those who outgrew me (or was it the other way around?).

We loved and lost pets and brought new ones into the family because there is just so much love to share. Romance peaked and waned and peaked again as long loves do, but always, always, always, there was a lasting love and a story to be written together.

I have focused much on the joys experienced in our Georgia home. Because that's what we do...right?

But I once called our home cursed and brought out the Holy Water and sage to try and cast out the sorrow I felt hanging about us during an especially challenging time. It wasn't the only time I felt that way living in that house.

Still, we look at the totality of our experiences and if nothing else, my faith and ability to love (deeply and unconditionally) grew by leaps and bounds in this home. It is where I learned what it really means to be a wife and where I became a mother. I evolved from timid and insecure to confident and experienced. I encountered the teachings of Abraham-Hicks which reinforced my Catholic beliefs about God's love for us and I learned that we choose joy and that doing so isn't always easy, but it's definitely worth the effort. I also learned how to take care of my physical and mental health with diet, exercise, and supplements. And I learned to choose me.

Now as I stand at the edge of my future, I realize that I'm really not leaving anything behind. Just a building, where a new family will grow and live their lives. I take the rest with me, but really only the good. Because ultimately, the negative experiences I had led me to the changes I needed to make to become the woman, the wife, the friend, the mother, that I want to be, that I am, that I am still becoming.  And in leading me to where I needed to be the chaff was transformed into gold.

I know our life in Chattanooga will be amazing because I believe in amazing. In the meantime, my kids and I will be spending the next six or seven weeks as vagabonds until our new home is complete. I hope to share some of our experiences. You can watch as I totally step out of my security-craving comfort zone and grow.

Feel free to follow me on Twitter, or here. And, in the meantime, I'd love to hear your stories about getting out of your comfort zone, or what happened when you took a step you couldn't take back. Please share your story in the comments. Namaste.