I talk to Kate multiple times almost every day. Sometimes it is about work, but many times it is about current events, our families, or she sends me pictures.
We’ve grown so accustomed to talking to each other all the time that we often forget the other person isn’t walking around with us. The other day, Kate texted me, “he told me not to paint with it on!” and I had no idea what she was talking about. Her response, “Oh wait, I forgot you weren’t in the jewlers with me.”
Her response reminded me of my first experience working with a close friend. In my 20s I worked second shift at a corporate law firm with my friend, Alix. At the firm we went from “friendly” to best, best, besties because the job enabled us to constantly talk to each other. We talked all the time. Our work day didn’t start until 4:00pm, so we’d spend all day calling each other to talk about what was on our minds, what were were doing, what we saw, who we saw, and anything else that crossed our minds. When we weren’t talking, we were leaving voice messages. We left long, stream of consciousness messages about everything and nothing. I would call Alix and say, “OK, so I was walking by that coffee shop, on 5th, the one where we saw that famous guy, remember? And…” and on the other end, maybe 2 hours later, Alix would respond, “Uh-huh, yeah I remember…” as if we were having a conversation in real time.
When we got to work we would get coffee, recap the finer points of our day and then carry on talking. I assume we got some work done at some point because neither one of us got fired, but I have no memory of it. I remember spending many hours sitting across a desk with my best friend unraveling the mysteries of the universe and fashion trends.
It felt so normal. Alix was my other self. We joked that we shared a brain. We had so much to talk about it never occurred to me that our habits might seem odd to the outside world.
Eventually, an outsider discovered our GalPal Gab-a-Thon. Alix’s officemate overheard one of my messages and asked, “is that a voicemail?”
Alix replied, “Yeah.”
“It is? What! Why?”
Alix did not understand. She said, “What do you mean?”
He said, “Dude, why is Jen leaving you a five minute message? Does she understand that you aren’t there?”
“Yeah, of courses she does. She’s just leaving me a message.”
Her office mate shook his head and said, “Oh my god, you guys are so weird.”
To hear Alix tell it, she just sat there, blank faced. She had no idea this would seem weird to someone else and she didn’t understand why. We were friends. We had thoughts we needed to share. We liked to talk. What was the problem?
Such is the nature of true love. It blinds and binds us.
Having a friend you relate to so well you almost forget they are not running errands with you is a rare, special gift. The fact that I have had the opportunity to experience it twice in my life is truly, spectacularly, indulgent.
But, that is the boon of doing something with people you love. Working second shift at the law firm was not a great career move. It didn’t pay well and there was no chance of advancement. But, it was a great lifestyle choice. I had my days free and my nights were spent goofing around with people I loved. I had a lot of laughs at that job.
The same can be said of TSY. Most of the time we are crossing our fingers, hoping and praying we make our ends meet. Our tuition is so low we often wonder just what the hell we are doing and why, but then Kate sends me a message like “Fi is crawling!” along with a picture of her cherubic niece smiling and then I remember why; TSY is not just a business, it is a family. We’re a group of people looking to create a community that extends beyond yoga teacher trainings and yoga classes. We love each other. And we enjoy each other’s company.
I’ve been told that my emails are supposed to offer teaching advice, leadership advice, etc., but this week I don’t want to. What I want to offer you is a piece of advice my dad gave me when I left Spokane for New York City at 18; do not worry about what will happen if you fail. Think instead about what you will lose if you don’t try. Some things cannot be measured by the amount of money you spend, sometimes the experience and the friends you make along the way, is worth so much more.
You Get to Choose
You get to choose too.
I have to remind myself of this a lot. When someone doesn’t choose me, or has a different way of doing things, my default is to think that there is something wrong with me. Their way is better. I am doing “everything” wrong.
We all have The Joneses - the people we compare ourselves to. These are the friends, the social media contacts and neighbors we choose to self-flagellate with. Our successes are either propped up or diminished by them.
For example; yesterday we hosted a “last day of school” party for a bunch of tweens. It was six hours of 12-year-olds rough housing, and video gaming. Fun and exhausting. This party was for the kids, but it was also a way for me to see how they interacted, what the social pecking order was and how my child fit into it.
It was also an opportunity to meet the parents connected to his friends. There was the usual exchange of pleasantries; thank you for having him, thank you for coming, etc. Some parents lingered a little longer to chat, some whisked their kids away in a hurry. We all communicated something specific about ourselves and our children. I am in a hurry because we have another engagement; our child is very popular. I have time to kill and feel like talking; I’ll linger a little longer and tell you the great things about us. I am late because my job kept me; I am very busy! I am relaxed and welcoming; hey, don’t worry about it.
Each interaction is the Story of Us; a tale of the family that we want others to not so much know about us, but to believe about us. We embellish. The Stories of Us is us at our best. It is our domestic fairy tale.
Every time I have one these interactions, I walk away feeling like a failure. My kids are often rude and unhelpful. I have to remind them to say “please” and “thank you” all the time. They are picky eaters. They pick on each other. They do not like sports.
I am not nearly as good at this parenting as this guy!
That is when I have to remind myself, “Jen, you get to choose.” I get to decide if that way of parenting is the “right” way, or if I am OK doing it my way. I decide to self-flagellate or not. We don’t just get told what we are doing is wrong. The final decision comes down to us. We either agree with them or we don’t. We decide.
We write our own story.
Yoga teaches us that power is not just forceful dominance. It is also receptive yielding. Accepting oneself is an act of yielding. It is often uncomfortable. Being able to sit in that discomfort is brave. It is also the source of acceptance.
As you head out to teach your classes make a brave choice to never, ever compare yourself to other teachers. Write “I Choose THIS!” this on the cover of a teaching notebook and fill that book with what it means to be a good teacher, what you need to do to make that a reality and what your next steps will be. Sit down after each teaching experience and figure out what worked and what you will do differently next time. Be honest with yourself, be critical and always write “next time I will…” Make sure you leave that door open. And never, ever compare your work to someone else’s. Unfollow your peers on social networks for a while if you find that you are getting too distracted by their stories. Go into your own experience and trust that your story is worth telling too.
Video Games & Philosophy
I picked up my son yesterday from a sleepover and he was strangely content. Usually when I pick him up after a sleepover he is a grumpy, overtired, hungry train wreck. But yesterday he was calm, happy, introspective. He said to me, “You know, right now I don’t want anything. I don’t need anything. I am fine. It’s such a strange feeling. I’ve never felt this way before.”
The sarcastic adult in me said to itself “Wait five minutes kid, it’ll pass.”
Thankfully, I kept my mouth shut because he went on talking. He talked about how we’re all the same, that basically nothing separates us; we’re all the same particles of space dust, a further iteration of the Big Bang, and that the only thing that separates us from each other is thought.
For an armchair philosopher such as myself, it was glorious. He went on to talk about these videos he watched about a video game (he is obsessed with video games and videos about video games). In this game, a robot gains sentience. He endures slavery and prejudice, grapples with free will and emotions, has to choose between right and wrong, etc. When I asked him, “wait, this is a video game?” he confirmed that yes, it is a video game and it hasn’t come out yet, but he can’t wait to play it.
A video game does that?
I was shocked!
Screens are the bane of my parenting life. I hate, I mean really deeply, hate video games. My kids would spend all day, every day on screens if I let them. But, screens make them moody zombies. Screens turn them into these creatures addicted to instant gratification. After playing games, they can’t do anything on their own. They just mull around waiting for something to stimulate them.
Yet, this game had this weird effect on my kiddo. He’s calm, introspective, thoughtful. Because of these videos, we had an amazing conversation about Descartes and the nature of consciousness.
We connected because of a video about a video game about sentience. And he can’t wait to play it.
Wow.
We often think that this way of doing something is bad or that way isn’t “the way” and yet… beauty can come out of anything.
Even a video game.
This is something I have to remind myself of constantly. The thing I think I know, the thing I think is right is only a perspective. We really have no idea. There is no one way of doing anything. There are ways. They either work for us or they work against us. And what that “thing” is, is up to us to decide individually.
Just something to think about on your way to your day today.