Expressing Joy

-->

 I love this house.   

It makes me smile just to drive by it.  The other night, as I drove by and smiled at this sight on the way to the grocery store, I started to think about why I loved this house so much.

1.     The people who live here totally get JOY and CELEBRATION.  Celebration is oozing out of this house! The inhabitants have clearly dedicated time and energy to this display—and they held nothing back.  This house and its lights scream out excitement—about what’s already here and anticipation for what’s to come.

2.     Not only is this display all about joy and celebration, it’s about SHARING that.  How many of us hide our passions and happiness because we fear judgment or disapproval?  Growing up as a geeky kid, I know that experience—and sometimes that little voice that tells me to keep something to myself still whispers in my ear—but these people?  If they hear that voice, they are not listening.  I totally respect that.

3.     This celebration is RANDOM and ECLECTIC.  These decorations didn’t come in a matched set with perfectly coordinated colors and pieces.  This is a collection of things that looks to me like it has been built over time and by adding whatever caught someone’s attention.  I almost imagine a whole family, each member choosing their own favorite set of lights or object, and adding it to the scene.  These decorations demonstrate an attitude of finding beauty in anything—perfection and matching not required.

4.     This house STANDS ON ITS OWN.  I have seen houses a bit like this in clusters before—streets where homeowners coordinate and sometimes compete with each other over their decorations.  Although some of those displays might rival this one in terms of magnitude, they lose something by being together for me.  These homeowners aren’t afraid to stick out.  They are reveling in their uniqueness. 

Imagine living like that—expressing your joy and not caring what other people think.  It would be liberating.  It would be a celebration.  It would be as beautiful and complex as this house. 

 

Getting Expectations Out of the Way

Recently, I was sick—nothing show-stopping, but sniffly, stuffy, and lethargic—all the symptoms of a bad cold.  I forced myself out of my house anyway and off to a late afternoon yoga class.

In my experience, there are days when it feels like every internal judge I have is on duty.  It's not surprising that it’s hard to feel a sense of peace when some small part of my brain is worried about how I did or didn’t just live up to my own expectations and another small part of my brain is wondering how I did at meeting the expectations of others.  I find this especially true as the holidays approach—and with them comes a series of beliefs and stories about how they should go and what I must do.  These expectations only matter in that I have identified with them in some way and now my ego has something invested in meeting them. (for a more complete discussion on the complexities of ego from my friends at Yoga Journal, go here.) In yoga, my teachers talk about trying to free ourselves from that kind of ego, which can prevent us from being truly present in our own lives.    

Even in my sickness, or maybe because of it, I was able to catch of a glimpse of that free-er mental state.  As I arrived at the yoga studio a few minutes before class started, sniffles and all, I found the perfect spot at the back of the room—warm and cozy and by myself.  The closest person to me was Helen-- a yoga teacher who practices at my studio.  She is technically precise, focused, fluid, strong, and has an incredibly powerful personality.  Frankly, she intimidates the crap out of me.  

Once class started, I was completely focused on how my body was moving and how I felt, managing my sick, stuffy-headed energy.  A slower pace and some key moments in child’s pose pulled me through to the end of class.  “What a beautiful practice you have,” I heard Helen’s voice say as we were rolling up mats.  I looked up to see who she was talking to and found her looking at me. 

The truth was, I felt pretty good for a sick person who had just done an hour and a half of yoga in a hot room.  I found myself contemplating what had made the difference internally and apparently externally.  I am convinced that the lack of internal judgment was a major factor.  I had no mental energy to be judging myself or worrying about others judging me.  Had I felt better, maybe I would have tried too hard, wrenching the joy and grace right out of the experience.  Had I been in my head about being sick, I would have spent some time judging myself or making excuses for myself.  Had I stayed on the couch, worried that I couldn’t make it through class, I would have lost out on the experience entirely.

The lesson works off the yoga mat as well.  Having an experience without working to interpret it all as good or bad, success or failure changes the experience. Being overzealous on the way into a situation—imagine a first date or a job interview for example—can cause us to do too much, to bring effort to bear on something that will crumble under the pressure—that person we found so intriguing is put off, the employer worries we are desperate.  Opting out has different complications as we sell ourselves short based on fears—like never going on the date or not even submitting our resume. 

Seems that this kind of peace of mind is about opting in but not expecting, needing or even wanting a specific outcome. What Helen reminded me of was the importance of my actual experience and not my mental evaluation of the experience, the importance of showing up rather than achieving a specific something.  This year, I am hoping to take this lesson to as many holiday parties and family gatherings as I can and am looking forward to seeing what kind of peace I can find there.