The art of "finding the aliveness" has been a tricky one for me. One of the most painful parts of depression is not just an inability to find what makes you feel alive, but to actively resist life. To want to hide from finding joy, and to find what seems to be an endless stream of monotony and hopelessness so unbearable, the only solution is to cease being alive. Even on the road to recovery, when I felt physically less dead, the idea of returning to a joyful state and knowing what sparked a sense of feeling alive was unreachable.
We don't always know what makes us feel the most alive. Historically, I have found my soul lighten when dancing and being part of academia, but after such a dramatic crumbling of life, I don't know if those things will bring that same joy. But, like the mind reader that Adriene is, she reminded us that we don't always have to know what our contribution to society could be, or what sparks that feeling of "yes, this is what I should be doing." Just like you don't have to rush through your yoga practice, you don't have to rush self-discovery. If you haven't found what makes your heart sing or your soul expand, you are not alone, and you just have to keep exploring, keep a sense of curiosity, and have compassion for yourself when you play a game of soccer and get hit in the shins 100 times over.
On a grand scheme, this journey of discovery in finding what fulfills us professionally can be daunting. There is that sense of pressure to associate what we do to make money with our sense of purpose. I have certainly fallen into that trap, and I consider myself lucky that I will get paid to learn and grow as a scholar. Not many people get to do that. But this can be a dangerous path if you suddenly find yourself out of that job that gave you 100% of your sense of purpose and fulfillment.
I had made a similar discovery about a year ago, but fell into the same trap after leaving school.
Yoga has been a constant for me. Despite sleeping for 9 hours, I feel dead in the mornings and wonder how I will ever feel like a functional human. After 35 minutes of yoga, I feel like I can take on the world (just kidding; that would require leaving the house).
In the spirit of finding what feels good, I'm transitioning away from "this isn't altogether terrible" to actively saying to myself "this feels good." And sometimes, very briefly, that happens when I'm trying something new. I have done many of the postures that Adriene introduces, but today I did a side stretch I had never tried before, and acknowledged the beautiful opening in my shoulders, torso, and hips.
Day 26, "drop" was one of the more physically challenging practices I have done in this series—initially, I had to drop the expectation that this would be a gentle sequence. Looking more broadly, I have started to drop that which no longer serves me, namely a crippling anxiety and feeling that I should be doing something different at any given time. These are fleeting moments, but progress nonetheless. I'm finding joy not just in the soft sweet moments of Adriene's practice, but in my own as well. While talking with a dear friend yesterday, she said "you have to find positivity in the little moments. I pet a cat today...and a dog."
I also pet a cat yesterday. And today, I watched a sweet, loving interaction between Adriene and her dog Benji (who has become an integral part of my yoga practice).
Dropping expectations has long been a struggle for me. I am a perpetual scheduler. As a kid, I regularly scheduled Christmas hour by hour, and made a ten-year plan for myself. If things don't go according to schedule, I deem my day, and consequently myself, a failure. But when you open yourself to unplanned events or opportunities, your world can expand in ways that you never deemed possible. Returning to "The Tyranny of Expectations,"the author states the following:
"Living a life that is open to possibilities is more like a request, a prayer, or an act of witnessing your faith in life. Your well-being is not contingent on the future. Your mind is open and inspired in this moment. You therefore have more access to imagination and intuition. Your mind is clear and less reactive, and you make better decisions. You respond rather than react to life as it unfolds.
This ability to respond to change rather than react to it is the primary distinction I have observed between those who feel free and those who are caught in the suffering of life. You may often find yourself reacting to the behavior of others or to changes in your circumstances and never realize it is because you were expecting others or your life to be a certain way. When you react this way, you are opting not for the mind of possibility but for the mind of expectation, and you are left disappointed, hurt, lost, angry, or defeated."
I have experienced this firsthand. I have rigidly tried to control everything in my life, which ultimately led to an angry breakup and zero hobbies (but success in school—huzzah!). When real life came barreling towards me, I fell apart (also that pesky lack of serotonin had something to do with it). In desperate attempts to control the future, I could not participate in the present.
It's okay to have a plan. You need to have somewhat of a future-focus when making professional and personal goals. But I have caught myself planning my weekly schedule (including meal prep, laundry, and grocery shopping days) for next semester. Those things will get done without obsessing about them in June. They can organically unfold as life progresses. As Adriene says, "there is nothing more empowering than making modifications." Easing up on those rigid plans doesn't mean giving up. Dropping doesn't equate to folding low to the ground (most of today's practice was standing) and huddling into a ball. Dropping expectations lends itself to expanding possibilities and creating space for experiences, that can, in the end, make you feel alive.
Namaste.
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