Thursday, April 30, 2009

All Kinds of Beautiful


"Running all around all around... all kinds of beautiful". You never know what you are going to get or how things will end up, but I still believe that it all happens for a reason. I attended the annual ARC  gala with my mom, dad, and Teddy in late February. At the event, a young man, who was blind and autistic, played the piano absolutely beautifully - such a gift. Dan Wilson, formerly the lead singer of Semisonic, performed his song "All Kinds of Beautiful" with the entire crowd singing along. It was one of those moments that gives you the goosebumps. Time seemed to pause momentarily and I was reminded of how lucky I am. The gift of Teddy and how he has shaped my life. The gift of my parents, sister, and grandparents - people who continually amaze and impress me and who's support is endless. The gift to be able to take this time and dedicate it to myself. I used to look at 25 as an age when I should know what I'm doing and who I am going to do it with. With the support of such incredible people, I am so lucky to be 25 and feeling all of the possibilities that come out of dreaming big. All kinds of beautiful.

Shoshoni


I thought I had to go to India, but all I had to do was drive 45 minutes north of Boulder, Colorado to get a taste of the ashram experience. At Shoshoni I observed silence for 3 days, I turned off my phone and computer and retreated into myself. I meditated for an hour at 5am every morning, I did two yoga classes and one pranayama (breathwork) class each day, and went to an evening meditation or ceremony every night. After 3 days of silence I re-entered the world of talking and extended my stay for a week. My yoga and spiritual practices grew more in one week than it had in years before. A few major breakthroughs occurred that represent the changes that I experienced there. 

First, I realized that meditation is work. If you really want to meditate, if you really want to find that space within yourself, you have to have a disciplined practice. You have to work at it. Closing your eyes and breathing isn't enough. You have to constantly practice letting go of your thoughts and coming back to the present. I finally acknowledged that if I want to be serious about meditation, it's going to involve a significant amount of time and effort.

Second, I realized that I will never be able to put my beliefs into a box. At the root of all my explorations is the fact that I am a questioner. I am a questioner that yearns for answers. I am a searcher looks for a way to name my experiences, my spirituality. I want to name my feelings and my practices and put them into an intellectual or religious framework. For the first time, at Shoshoni, I both realized and started to give into the truth - some things cannot be explained. Why does the temple have both Buddhist and Hindu deities? What religion does yoga come from? What do I call this feeling? "Katie, stop trying to explain things and just live in the experience". There are deities from many religions in one space because they each bring something meaningful to the experience. Yoga comes from inside of you. This feeling? Well, it feels right and I can go along with that without defining it. I can't put my beliefs into a box because my spiritual identity is not definable - it is defined moment by moment and I have never been able to predict what the next moment will entail. 

Third, I kicked up into a handstand. Years trapped in the comfortable experience of looking at the world right-side-up. Years of practicing yoga and even training as an instructor and I remained terrified of pushing myself that tiny bit extra to defy the gravity that held me down. A new sense of self-confidence, a faith in the present, and letting go of the past and the future, I finally found stability within the fear and discomfort of being up-side-down. Taking the risk, pushing fear aside, and just going for it. The last 4 months have made up the most rewarding handstand of my life. The world is up-side-down, that is the right side up and I wouldn't have it any other way.

kspencer not in Africa


In the past whenever I have had the freedom to choose where to go I have almost always found a way to choose Africa (hence the title of my blog). When December 5th arrived and I had 8 months of freedom ahead of me with the world as my limit, Africa was, for the first time in my life, not on my immediate agenda. After a month of visiting and spending time with family and friends who I hadn't seen in awhile Halle met me in Minnesota for the long, snowy drive out to Colorado. My next step was a condensed version of the ski bum year I had always wanted. Beaver Creek, Vail, Alta, and back country skiing in British Columbia - my first next step was, without a doubt, the perfect one. I didn't and don't always have to go to far off places to travel somewhere new inside myself. 

On January 6, 2009 I wrote:

I wake up with daylight, close my eyes, and try to find that quiet place inside myself. I read a poem from "The House of Belonging" and cook in good company. I spend time washing my face - appreciating the softness and accepting my reflection. I sit, I read, and admittedly I type, but only for good conversation. I snowshoe up to ski, sip coffee, and snowshoe home. I cook again, light a fire, read, and practice headstands. When my eyes feel heavy I go to bed - one hand on my heart and the other on my naval. In my head I say "release" and I let go. Tomorrow is a new beginning and that is all that matters. 

Start Close In

After that autumn morning and some honest conversations with friends and family, I knew that leaving my job was the first step. I wasn't sure what would come after that, but I trusted that the next step would come to me after I took the first one. David Whyte's poem guided me through the difficult week or so leading up to my resignation.

Start Close In

Start close in,
don't take the second step
or the third,
start with the first
thing
close in,
the step
you don't want to take.

Start with
the ground 
you know,
the pale ground
beneath your feet,
your own
way of starting 
the conversation.

Start with your own 
question,
give up on other
people's questions, 
don't let them
smother something
simple.

To find
another's voice, 
follow
your own voice,
wait until
that voice
becomes a
private ear
listening 
to another.

Start right now
take a small step
you can call your own
don't follow
someone else's 
heroics, be humble
and focused,
start close in,
don't mistake
that other
for your own.

Start close in, 
don't take
the second step
or the third,
start with the first
thing
close in,
the step
you don't want to take.

........
It was an interesting process for me. I didn't feel like I had a say in the matter anymore. I knew the only way forward was to walk into the office and put in my notice. Part of me (the ego part of me) left my body and I it felt like someone/thing was completely in control of my movement. December 5th was going to be my last day and I was going to take a good amount of vacation time leading up to it to focus on my grad school applications. I left the office that day and haven't had a single moment of regret since. 





The moment I knew I had to make a change

It was a warm autumn day in Washington D.C. and I was sitting outside at my favorite little coffee shop around the corner, Java House. I love sitting in there on that picturesque street and watching the world quietly go by. On this one day I let my mind wander away from the GRE workbook in front of me to thoughts that have frequently tugged at my mind. For whatever reason, this time when the thoughts entered my mind I wrote them down on a crumpled sheet of paper and carried the words around with me. For whatever reason, that is when I knew that, for me, there was no longer a choice. I had to act.

This is what I wrote - D.C., October 2008:

Eventually you have to throw your expectations to the wind. Holding onto what I thought should be holds me still and unsatisfied. What I thought, is not what is. Fear of movement that might disrupt what seems like the ideal position to wait in for those expectations to manifest - is what keeps me still. 

If I could genuinely release those expectations would I not be afraid? Maybe I would be afraid, but at least I would be able to move more freely through my life.

I don't want to be a wanderer or someone who is constantly trying to escape. But I also don't want to be someone who sits and waits for old expectations to come true.