Take A Chance With Me: Moving Out of Your Comfort Zone

Although I was proud enough of my suspended shoulder stand to post a photograph of the event (and it's a rare day when I'm in any photograph), it wasn't long before I began to critique my pose.  As wonderful as it felt to go upside down, I'm no poster child for correct alignment:

You can see that I'm holding on here for dear life, after Robin helped me up.  I wasn't strong enough to get there on my own. One of the goals in this pose is to be in Tadasana (albeit upside down), with my feet level and my legs straight and strong.  I started out that way, but at this point, I'm using the wall for support, doing an unintentional back bend.  These are a few things I see; a yoga instructor would have much more to suggest about correct positioning.  Notice that I'm critiquing my pose, not criticizing it.  There's a big difference.

In some ways, the sloppiness of my pose doesn't matter.  I got up there, which is more than most people I know could or would do.  I managed to work through the rush of panic without freaking out and I stayed in the pose for a few minutes.  I had some idea of how the pose should feel and look and I did manage to take my feet away from the wall in an attempt at Tadasana.  If I never do this again, I still have a few bragging rights. 

(Incidentally, Robin was correct-when I went up, I had a very sore right shoulder, enough to wake me up at night.  "This will help," she assured me, although I couldn't see how balancing on a painful area would relieve the discomfort.  It's been two nights now, and I haven't been disturbed by shoulder pain one bit.  Go figure.)

It's not enough.  Now that I know I can do shoulder stand, I want to improve my pose. I've looked closely at the photo, asked questions about adjustments, annoyed yoga teachers about why this and that.  I'm looking to move out of my comfort zone because that's how I learn and grow.

Comfort zones are there for good reasons.  Sometimes, it's nice to play safe, to look for the soothing tones of the familiar.  Staying in the warm, fuzzy areas can keep us happy, away from risk.  Those aren't problems, unless and until we use comfort to numb our experiences and allow ourselves to shrink from challenges.  If you refuse all challenges, you'll end up as a warm puddle on your couch, afraid to interact with the world.  You literally won't know your own body or mind.

Many fibre people take up knitting or spinning or other fibre crafts for those comfort experiences.  We seek to escape the pressures of our jobs, our families, the stresses of life, our selves.  Spinning plain yarns, knitting garter stitch scarves by the truckload help us feel good.  Not only do our crafts calm us, we make something useful in the process.  Again, there is no judgment here.  I'm a big, big fan of garter stitch and plain 2 ply yarn. We are forced to deal with stress every day; we don't have to add more if we'd rather not. 

The thing is, if we're able to do something at all, why not explore our limits?  Once in a while, we need to step outside those boundaries, face our fears head on (or down, as the case may be) and go for it.  If you always knit garter stitch scarves, consider working a simple shawl, perhaps with an easy lace border.  Continue spinning those plain yarns, but throw some deliberate designer lumps and bumps into one or two skeins.

This little shawl is nothing but garter stitch and yarn overs.

Rather than adding to our stresses, challenges will actually alleviate the pressures we face.  When you are working on something new, you have to pay attention, which means you don't have the time or space to worry about the daily annoyances which build stress.  You pick your challenge, research it and do it safely, to the best of your abilities.  Then you push a little more.  (Safety is much more important with a physical challenge. Although I've seen some impressive spinning and knitting failures, apart from a rush of forceful language and some tears, fibre flaws are rarely fatal.)

It's that "pushing a little more" that will take you places and enrich your world. So, go on, take a baby step or two.  You may soon find yourself running.

As for me, I've been behaving like a little kid all week, begging people to help "Me go upside down!"  It feels good.

Namaste.



A bit of hand spun yarn, garter stitch, some holes and a sense of adventure can take you places.  It really is okay to colour outside the lines!

(Congratulations to DaigleD, whose name was chosen for the Blog Birthday draw.)

Lifelines: Learning to Recognize Opportunities

Sometimes, it's a good thing to be strung along!

Lace knitters are familiar with lifelines, those bits of contrasting yarn we thread through our knitting to track patterns.  They mark a point in our knitting where we know our pattern and stitch count were correct, so that when mistakes happen, we can frog back to the lifeline, pick up the stitches and get knitting again.  You ignore a lifeline at your peril-refusing to use them may mean that an error in a project requires completely reknitting the project.  At the very least, it can mean you have some slow, laborious tinking (knitting back) to do.

There are lifelines in other events, too, although they may not be so obvious and may have a different purpose.  In times of crisis, when you're at a crossroad and unsure of the next step, lifelines are there to guide you, if you're ready to pay attention.

When I talk about lifelines, people often think that I'm going all "mystical moments" and "New Age-y," but lifelines are practical and usually come from very grounded sources. Friends and strangers  will reach out with opportunities for healing; you have only to accept their offerings. Lifelines differ from advice; people don't tell you what to do.  Rather, they will tell a story, perhaps without knowing that you are facing challenges, and you'll recognize yourself or your problem in the story.  They'll hand you a card to a place or an event which helped them or they'll speak of others who have successfully manoeuvred similar issues.  Sometimes, the lifeline is indirect, in the form of a poster you see on the street or an invitation on Facebook. 

I have to wait a while before I can take formal yoga teacher training, which left me wondering what to do in order to get a head start on the programme.  I'm taking several yoga classes, studying anatomy for hatha yoga, volunteer teaching on occasion, but I wasn't satisfied that I was on the right path.  Then the yoga studio posted an invitation to Colin's university class on yoga texts, teachers, and techniques.  There you have it-a lifeline.

I could have ignored the post.  I'd been away from school for decades.  The class is expensive; it involves a lot of reading, writing and learning to navigate formal education again.  Because it was offered outside of where I expected my training to occur, I could have missed the signal. Years of being open to signs and signals along my life path helped me to recognize an opportunity to grow and learn.  I grabbed the lifeline and away I went, into a class that's given me a philosophical grounding for my yoga practice and taught me just how little I actually know about yoga.

The wonderful thing about lifelines is that you don't have to do anything to find them.  You simply have to be open to possibilities in what is happening now.  We have to add lifelines to our knitting, but daily lifelines tend to be intuitive-you know them when you see them.  Once you learn to recognize them, they are everywhere.

The next time you think about ignoring a lifeline in that fancy lace shawl, think again.  Using a lifeline can't hurt and may save you from knitting calamity.  The next time an opportunity wanders across your path, wake up and pay attention.  It just might be the very thing you need to seize, the line that will guide you to the next step.

Namaste.

My shawl is finished: hand spun organic, natural coloured cotton in simple garter stitch with a lace edging.