Author: emilydownward

“You don’t need a wishbone, you need a backbone.”

– Caroline Myss

 

How often do we get so wrapped up in pleasing others, or taking care of others, or trying to “fit the mold” that we say yes to things that don’t serve us? I know I have found myself so far down the pleasing-others path that when I stopped to take a breath and look around, I realized I was completely disconnected from what I wanted. Like Julia Roberts’ character in “Runaway Bride,” who didn’t even know how she liked her eggs cooked.

I recently got the incredible opportunity to see Byron Katie demonstrate The Work here in Austin. She has such an inspiring, peaceful presence. I was struck by her succinct statement, “When I say Yes to you, it’s a Yes to myself. When I say No to you, it’s a Yes to myself.”

I’ll be the first to admit that saying No isn’t always easy. I don’t like the idea of letting others down. But what about letting myself down? I’ve found that if I consistently say Yes to everything that is put before me, I end up exhausted, burned out, and unhappy. Similar to how uncomfortable it would feel to eat everything put out on a restaurant’s buffet. We have been blessed with the ability to choose, and it’s up for each of us to define what works best for us.

There is something empowering about saying No — that’s the “Yes to myself” part. It feels like freedom to me. Of course, saying No can be done in a polite way, and it can even be a “Not now” kind of No. And then there’s one of my favorite metaphors — from the airline safety routine of putting the oxygen mask on yourself first. If you don’t take care of yourself first, you won’t have anything to give to anyone else.

What are you saying No to this week?

I’ve been meditating more…or at least, trying to. It’s difficult for me to get my inner chatterbox brain to stop talking, but as with any new skill, it does get easier the more you practice.

A couple weeks ago, I was really struggling with a decision. I knew what I wanted to do, but I was afraid to take the action. The fear was mostly about the unknown. It seems easier to stay with the familiar, but sometimes, the familiar gets so painfully not right, you have to forge a new path.

I went down to Lady Bird Lake here in Austin and did a soft focus meditation. Basically, you start by focusing your vision on one object in front of you. Then, without moving your eyes, you become aware of everything in the periphery of your visual field and give everything equal importance. Next, still focusing on the one object, become aware of the sounds, smells and the feel of the environment around you, giving each equal importance in your attention. Finally, you imagine the space between your eyes, adding it to everything else in your attention.

Once I was in that relaxed space, I set some intentions for myself — what I want to have happen. At some point, I felt my phone vibrating, but it didn’t break my concentration. Once I was done with my meditation, I called my friend back. I talked to her as I walked back to my car, and stopped for a bit on a pier that hangs out over a little man-made pond. As I was telling my friend about my upcoming decision, I saw a turtle and happily thought, “Oh! A turtle!” We kept talking, and more and more turtles came up and surrounded me. I finally interrupted our conversation to tell her what was happening, and she said, “They’re telling you that you have to stick your neck out.”

My teacher Martha Beck talks about how we should be like turtles: stay soft on the inside but have a protective covering on the outside to withstand criticism, stick your neck out and make small but determined steps towards your goals.

I felt such wonderment and gratitude for this magical moment. And although I’ve been to this same spot before and since, it hasn’t happened again.

I was only able to take a picture of a portion of them. In my amazement, I didn’t think to take a panoramic video. But this snapshot is enough to remind me of the magic.

I have never considered myself an athlete. I wasn’t involved in sports in school — I am eye-hand UNcoordinated — and don’t like the trash talking many competitors engage in. I just don’t find that motivating. So it’s still with a bit of wonder that I can call myself a triathlete. But having completed five triathlons (with my sixth coming up next weekend), I AM a triathlete.

For someone who never liked to run — heck, I still hate that part — and who hadn’t been swimming competitively since age 8 and only just purchased a road bike after the first triathlon, it’s still quite an accomplishment for me. I never thought I could do something like this. Which makes me realize — what else can I do that I never thought I could? How often is it that our thoughts limit us?

That first year, I had no idea what to expect. I talked to my sister (a seasoned triathlete) and a colleague at work who had competed in the Iron Man. They both gave me helpful tips, but it’s impossible to describe it all. It’s like the difference between reading a book about riding a bike and actually getting out there and learning how to balance yourself on two wheels.

So when I entered the lake that first year, I didn’t plan on the panic attack. Besides the fact that you’re swimming in a murky lake that is so opaque you can’t even see your hands in front of you, what it REALLY feels like is that you’re swimming in a sea of arms and legs. My heart rate was through the roof, and my breath was quick and shallow. I kept hitting other women, and my Southern upbringing kicked in. I literally popped my head up and would say “Excuse me!” and “Sorry!” Each of these attempts at propriety only got me another gulp of water, adding to my panic as I sputtered to breathe. I decided to keep my head up above water and did the breaststroke, slowly inching forward. I also tried rolling over onto my back for some backstroke, but I veered off course. It wasn’t until 2/3 of the way through the swim that I felt my breathing getting somewhere closer to normal. I was absolutely exhausted at the end of the swim. And I still had the bike and run portions to go!

The second year, I thought I would be fine. Nope…still had the panic attack in the water.

The third year, I thought FOR SURE I would be okay. Ha! Panic again.

The fourth year, I still panicked. In my head, I was telling myself, “Not again! You KNOW this. You know what to expect! Get it together!” I did notice that I was able to get over the panic faster, but it still slowed me down at first.

So this year, I expected I would panic. After all, experience has taught me that’s what my body does in this situation. I was completely prepared for it. I knew how to handle it: I’d let myself feel it, keep my head above water until I could calm my breathing, and then kick into high gear once I had enough oxygen.

And then…I didn’t panic. I could hardly believe it! I got into the same lake we get into every year. There were several sets of arms and legs all around me, and I just got in there and started swimming. No panic! Amazing.

My experience with the triathlon has become my personal metaphor for life. Whenever I feel that anxiety and panic start to come over me, I think, “Oh, it’s you again! I know you.” And then I just focus on keeping my head above water until my breathing calms down. And I sing my little mantra to myself: Ellen Degeneres in the movie Finding Nemo singing, “Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming…” Every little stroke gets you a little bit closer to that finish line.

The other lesson from the triathlon is that I can do things I didn’t think were possible. So what else can I do…?

What’s your mission in life? Do you know?

Each one of us is created unique, with our individual blend of talents and strengths, and while some know immediately what their purpose is, for me, it took me many years before figuring it out.

After finishing an amazing personal growth program here in Austin called Discovery!, I unlocked from within myself my mission. That’s not to say it won’t change and grow as I learn new things and hone my ideas, but to have something like this that I can grasp onto gives me a feeling of belonging. It’s like coming home — to finally realize what I want to do with my life.

My mission is to help the lost and brokenhearted find their true purpose by loving them and helping them uncover their gifts.

There are many ways to implement this mission, and one I started with is mentoring a young girl at an orphanage in Roatan, Honduras. Mentoring her includes sending regular letters of encouragement and support, and I was thrilled to get the chance to meet her in person in April. While initially shy, she showed a determination and spark while we visited. She’s had a rough start to her young life. I hope to encourage her to keep reaching for dreams and remembering her intrinsic value.

More is on the horizon for me and for this mission. Hope you’ll stay tuned!