Telling The Tough Truth About Time

If our paths crossed last year and you asked me how I was doing, I likely responded with some explanation of how busy I was. I hated talking about being busy. I knew it was a boring answer, but in ways it felt better than saying I was anxious, tired and pulled apart. It was complicated. I couldn't say I was good because I wasn't enjoying most of what I was doing. Yet, I was mostly doing things I wanted to do be doing. I blamed it all on time. I did not have enough of it.

When I first met my life coaches, Laurie and Alyssa, they suggested that I had enough time - I just needed to delegate more, say no more, and quit being a martyr. I didn't believe them (they couldn't possibly understand my reality), but I was sick and knew that if something didn't shift soon there would be serious impacts/consequences on my health, Kula Annex and my relationships. Was it possible to direct a yoga studio, practice yoga, connect with friends, show up for my partner, breathe, eat and take care of myself?

The truth was, I wasn't taking care of myself: my housemate would often ask me if I have eaten yet at 3 in the afternoon. I felt tired every morning and for most of the day. I prioritized work over eating and sleeping. My yoga practice wasn't honouring my exhausted body. My partner at the time would do all sorts of things to support me, including bringing me food and sometimes even cleaning my house. At the end of the day, I had barely any time to spend with him. My plants were all dying. My friends would send me gifts and I didn't take the time to send back gratitude. Of course I felt on edge when someone disappointed me at work or missed a meeting. I felt under-appreciated in many ways for all of the work I did.

It took the egoic hit of being called out for being a martyr to cause me to stop and reconsider how I was moving in the world. Was I really being a martyr? 

Yes.

I was harming myself saying it was for the sake of the studio. The truth was I wasn't actually serving the studio or the community by sacrificing myself. As my energy diminished it impacted my ability to practice, teach and relate with others. Ultimately I had to admit the truth: the Kula community didn't need me to be a martyr. I needed me to be a martyr. Overworking made me feel worthy, valuable, needed and loved. Overworking helped me avoid the tender places in my body that I was scared to touch. Gulp. 

Life coaching helped me tell the truth. My practice (and my therapist) helped me deal with all of the tenderness. Life coaching helped me design a plan to shift my work habits to give me time to take care of myself and my life. My practice continues to help me be aware of what is possible and sustainable in my body. When I changed my relationship to time, I changed my whole life. That sounds dramatic because it was. 

The tough conversations that I have had over the past year with myself and my community have demonstrated to me how telling the truth offers me the freedom to be Christi-an and the space to cultivate a deeper sense of trust in myself. Of course, this also inspires me to tell the truth to the people in my life so that we can build healthier relationships. As I begin to recognize my dynamics in relationship, where I hurt others, where I get hurt and where I silence my own voice, I become aware of so many opportunities for growth. 

I am excited and honoured to be co-facilitating my first Life Coaching Meets Yoga workshop, The Art of Tough Conversations, with my life coach, Laurie Gerber. I plan to help you get in touch with the places within that are calling for your attention through pranayama, meditation and yoga, while Laurie guides you to clearer communication with the people in your life through a series of written and spoken exercises and coaching. To find out more and to join us on October 6th, 2013 click here

 

Art Of Tough Conversations Poster


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