Last night I needed some comfort. Rather urgently. It was the end of a rather drawn-out and trying day, and I felt my irateness rising, slumped at the computer answering e-mails and taking care of back-logged business, noting that the day’s “To Accomplish” list looked woefully unchecked.
I’m in the midst of maintaining a 185 weight loss. The process began in January of 2009. On the surface, it seemed like everything fell seamlessly into place: I found DDPYOGA and began doing it; I listened to the advice of Dallas Page and Terri Lange and stopped eating gluten and cow dairy, and among other milestones that year, I was spurred by my steady weight change and decided to train for and complete Avon’s walking marathon for breast cancer research.
The steady shrinking of my hipline garnered a lot of oooh and aahhs from those around me and I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t ecstatic because of it. But there were emotional demons to conquor before the poundage faded away. All along, even when I was 300 pounds + for so many years, I’ve made sure to pay careful attention to the part of me that is incorporeal. Sure it’s a fact that the body needs care, but I’ve come to realize that the outer is only a reflection of the inner afterall, so what good does it do to focus solely on calories-in and sit-ups? I’ve been down that road before, twice to the tune of two 100-pound weight losses and subsequent regains. Not interested.
So last night, as I felt the breezey undercurrents of emotional turmoil gaining velocity, I knew the breeze could easily churn into funnel clouds if I didn’t acknowledge them with a time out. Four years ago, the time-out would have consisted of me beelining into the kitchen for the most easily accessible fistfull of simple carbs. I no longer attempt to solve problems this way.
Instead, I decided that some soothing of my Spirit was in order. I employ a variety of remedies for this ranging from getting down on the floor and stretching to candlelight and incense, flipping on some relaxation music, or one of my favorites: reaching for the headphones and turning on a guided meditation. There’s nothing like a gentle, calming voice to guide me back into the gale-free zone of serenity again. Shelley Cummins is one of my favorite purveyors of the guided meditation. She’s a spiritual teacher and yogini I’ve studied with for years, and Shelley conducts workshops around the world. Since I can’t always get to where she is, I thank God for her MP3 downloads. Last night I took refuge in her Tonglen Breathing Meditation, a transformational breathing practice meaning “to send and to receive.”
Shelley’s meditation downloads, books, and yoga DVD’s are available on Amazon ( www.amazon.com/Divine-Breath/dp/B001BLKNVI/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1338931403&sr=8-3 )
As I drifted off to sleep last night to the strains of the meditation, with seagulls and ocean waves interspersed with Shelley’s gentle directives, I was truly at peace. How good it felt to listen to what my body and soul really wanted and give it to them. To me, that’s the essence of real nourishment.
For more information on Shelley Cummins, visit www.jaisriyogis.com
I’m in the midst of maintaining a 185 weight loss. The process began in January of 2009. On the surface, it seemed like everything fell seamlessly into place: I found DDPYOGA and began doing it; I listened to the advice of Dallas Page and Terri Lange and stopped eating gluten and cow dairy, and among other milestones that year, I was spurred by my steady weight change and decided to train for and complete Avon’s walking marathon for breast cancer research.
The steady shrinking of my hipline garnered a lot of oooh and aahhs from those around me and I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t ecstatic because of it. But there were emotional demons to conquor before the poundage faded away. All along, even when I was 300 pounds + for so many years, I’ve made sure to pay careful attention to the part of me that is incorporeal. Sure it’s a fact that the body needs care, but I’ve come to realize that the outer is only a reflection of the inner afterall, so what good does it do to focus solely on calories-in and sit-ups? I’ve been down that road before, twice to the tune of two 100-pound weight losses and subsequent regains. Not interested.
So last night, as I felt the breezey undercurrents of emotional turmoil gaining velocity, I knew the breeze could easily churn into funnel clouds if I didn’t acknowledge them with a time out. Four years ago, the time-out would have consisted of me beelining into the kitchen for the most easily accessible fistfull of simple carbs. I no longer attempt to solve problems this way.
Instead, I decided that some soothing of my Spirit was in order. I employ a variety of remedies for this ranging from getting down on the floor and stretching to candlelight and incense, flipping on some relaxation music, or one of my favorites: reaching for the headphones and turning on a guided meditation. There’s nothing like a gentle, calming voice to guide me back into the gale-free zone of serenity again. Shelley Cummins is one of my favorite purveyors of the guided meditation. She’s a spiritual teacher and yogini I’ve studied with for years, and Shelley conducts workshops around the world. Since I can’t always get to where she is, I thank God for her MP3 downloads. Last night I took refuge in her Tonglen Breathing Meditation, a transformational breathing practice meaning “to send and to receive.”
Shelley’s meditation downloads, books, and yoga DVD’s are available on Amazon ( www.amazon.com/Divine-Breath/dp/B001BLKNVI/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1338931403&sr=8-3 )
As I drifted off to sleep last night to the strains of the meditation, with seagulls and ocean waves interspersed with Shelley’s gentle directives, I was truly at peace. How good it felt to listen to what my body and soul really wanted and give it to them. To me, that’s the essence of real nourishment.
For more information on Shelley Cummins, visit www.jaisriyogis.com
