I'm Still Learning to Slow Down
Humility, Curiosity, & Patience
Hello my dear Substack Community! I’ve been neglecting my presence on here for a multitude of reasons, none of them good, but here I am. I aim to be here more. I sent this note out on my newsletter which I also send pretty irregularly, but hope to send more. Anyway, the readers seemed to love it so I wanted to make it permanent here. I hope you enjoy. Sending love, always.
-H
To be a beginner at something, as an adult, especially something you care about, is a strange and beautiful experience.
I've been lifting weights for one year now and working with a coach for 100 days as of today. Needless to say, I've been working on this post for a while now, and I can't seem to get it quite right. I tend to write and rewrite it after stand-out sessions, editing here and there if the session felt especially difficult, fun, frustrating, emotional, satisfying, etc. What I'm seeing, looking back at these drafts, is that I keep writing the same thing.
Progress is not linear.
Frustration is inevitable.
To feel strong and capable as a woman is really awesome, and I've never felt like this before.
Having people in your life who push you to your absolute max and hold you to a high standard is truly a blessing.
And as always, humility, curiosity, and patience are the keys to freedom.
I've talked about the last bullet point for years in classes and in my writing, referencing principles of yoga philosophy like Abhyasa (consistent, uninterrupted effort over a long period of time regardless of circumstance), Tapas (the heat of discomfort for the sake of positive change. “Tap” means to burn), Amanitvam(absence of pride, freedom from self-importance or ego), Sraddha (faith based on evidence or experience, not blind belief), and of course Vairagya (non-attachment, or as I like to say, loosening the grip).
What truly always stuns me about yoga philosophy and this path in general is how it continues to grow and evolve. My understanding of the principles matures. It never fails to amaze me that if I stay dedicated to this practice, the teachings simply get richer.
Over this last year, and especially these last 100 days, my relationship with effort, discomfort, discipline, and ego has shifted in a big wonderful way. One of the main things I've learned in the gym is that I'm new at this. That might seem boring to name as a major discovery, but we are so rarely new at something as adults. We have to choose those moments. And even more rarely, we actually stick with them. It's uncomfortable, humbling, often embarrassing, and hard.
If you've ever been in a gym, you know there are people from all walks of life. A lot of those people are ripped dudes who know what they're doing. For me, as a woman who's spent most of her life on a yoga mat or doing some form of cardio – cycling, hiking, backpacking, running – I'm not the strongest. I have deep-grooved movement habits and compensations that take real effort and focus to undo. I work with the body, of course, so I walked into this new hobby of mine with a bit of an ego. “I have body awareness.” “I should be able to pick this new hobby up with relative ease.” Hahaha! That was humbled quickly.
I've learned that asking for help is not frowned upon. That good form, performed with integrity, attention to detail, and focus (focus Haley, focus!!!), matters more than heavy weight. These are all things that were, and are, hard for me to grasp. I thought people would judge me. I want to speed through the beginner stage. I want to skip over anything my brain labeled as too simple, too boring, or too foundational. I was and often am chasing the feeling of progress, accomplishment, and comfort.
But the lesson that keeps revealing itself to me – on the mat, in the gym, on my bike, on the trail, in my business, in my relationships – is the same every damn time. You can't rush the process. You can't speed up time. Progress is not linear. And if you're always looking ahead to the next thing, you miss the one you're in. This moment where it's challenging, uncomfortable, where you're learning and recalibrating and trying again…is where the good stuff lives. Don't miss it. It sounds so damn simple. It is simple. And I forget it all the time.
As soon as I finish this, then I can move on to that.
Once I get through this phase, then I'll finally feel...
That desire to rush doesn't get us there faster. It just pulls us away from what's actually happening. So, Abhyasa! Show up with consistent, wholehearted effort for whatever is in front of you…even if it's uncomfortable, sucky, or taking longer than you want it to. Show up for it with your full effort.
Pay attention to the details. They matter. From the hands and feet and breath and eyes in Virabhadrasana II, to the way my feet strike the earth when I'm hiking, to the smallest parts on my bike, to my breath, setup, and brace in a squat, no detail is too small. All of it is consequential.
And when we focus all of our energy and attention on this very moment – everything that's happening right here, right now – what comes next just loses its pull. What happened before fades out of focus.
It's just this.
Have a great week/weekend/day/month/year/life…Don't miss the small stuff.
Love,
Haley