The Obligatory New Year's Ordeal: 2013

A premise: I get insanely obsessive with the new year. I have to read certain books, do certain things, and then I have to write a blog post where I muse on and on about the year. One of the little ritualistic things I do with the new year is 108 sun salutations (it's an old yogic tradition that has to do with prayers and renewal and the wholeness of existence) and I started thinking about sitting and meditating after finishing my 108 sun salutations on New Year's Day of 2013 and wondering what the year had in store. Now, as the end has come, I decided, for my self-obligatory New Year's musings, to make a list of things I wish I could've known in that moment.

Happy New Year, beauties.

13 Things I Would Tell The Me of January 1, 2013

1.) I’m sorry that I ruined your life. It’ll pass. Use it as a growing experience.

2.) You will get into your dream school. Your mother will cry almost as hard as you do.

3.) You’re going to be disappointed. You will have a flight to New York cancelled because of snow. The boy who takes you to prom will not kiss you. You will come in second place.

4.) And then, as they always do, things will work out.

5.) Stop pretending to hate yourself. Embrace the fact that you are beautiful and cool and good at yoga. You have impeccable grammar. Loving yourself doesn’t make you better than anyone else.

6.) As always, read everything you can get your hands on. Unsurprisingly, words will heal you and complete you and arm you with good conversation topics. (Re: Good conversation topics: Listen when Avery Taylor tells you about giant rats paralleling Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in the sewers of Iran. It will benefit you more than you know. Also listen to Hailey James. Always. And listen to your parents.)

7.) You will see Europe. You will speak French and you will throw up four times between Paris and Venice. It will be terrible, but you will be traveling the world and that will make it less terrible.

8.) You will not kiss anyone for a very long time. This will be good for you. Don’t rush it. Try not to call it a “drought” and try not to bring it up in the first five minutes of any conversation. You will fail at both of those things, but it will end well.

9.) You will move across the country, and it will be terrifying and beautiful and scary and smart and it will make it easier to breathe and easier to miss people. New York will make you happy. You will meet people who understand you and the way you walk and talk and move and think. They will complete you. You understand that happiness is not climate-controlled, but the city will fill you with life and when someone asks you, “Are you happy? Would you change anything about your life?” you will answer honestly saying, “Yes, no, in that order.” Look forward to this moment. It will make you cry.

10.) God is good.

11.) Be kind. But also: Being passive aggressive will not get you anything. Please, say what you really mean. This would’ve solved a lot of things in the past, and it will certainly solve a lot of things in the future. Living with strange roommates and taking the subway to 42^nd street on a Friday at 7 pm will teach you this.

12.) You have so many beautiful things. The world loves you. Your family is better than you know. Your hometown is the most beautiful place in the world. You will realize this, though you have known it for a very long time, very suddenly, all at once, one afternoon in December. Look forward to this moment. It, too, will make you cry. This time in public. You won’t care.

13.) And finally, this: Every year for as long as you can remember, you have told yourself on January 1^st that this will be your year. Every year has had great things, but no year has ever been particularly, innately special. Every year was supposed to be your year, and then no year ever was. But, darling, this year? This year is your year.

An epilogue: "Look up at the sky. Ask yourself, 'Has the sheep eaten the flower or not?' And you'll see how everything changes... And no grown-up will ever understand how such a thing could be so important."

"I said to the sun, 'Tell me about the big bang.' The sun said, 'It hurts to become.'" -Andrea Gibson

Cheers,

Addy Sue

Yoga: How I Came To Love It, Why I Do, And Why You Should Too

There's a weird thing that happens to ballerinas around the age of 13. Calling myself a ballerina sounds glamorous, but it wasn't. I mean, I wasn't one of those glorious, waify things who danced 50 hours a week or anything. When I finally realized that I wasn't ever going to have perfect turnout, and I didn't have enough drive to force myself into it and also into, like, anorexia, I left the dance world. I knew I wasn't ever going to be one of those 90-pound sprites who fought through the politics and ended up bleeding her way, literally, into the chorus of ABT. I was more comfortable behind a novel or telling people stories. So I quit dancing. Which, truly, was a little sad, but I was 16, and I was already past my time.

The point is, I had discovered and become some things as a dancer that I wanted to hold on to. I was flexible and balanced and strong, and, apparently in some effort to replace my downright depressing turnout, I discovered this incredibly flexible spine of mine. For years I'd practiced yoga maybe once every few months, and on December 27, 2011, I woke up at 6:00 am and went to a yoga class.

The things I discovered over the months following were baffling to me: You could come to yoga no matter your weight. You could come no matter your age. You could come to matter your religion or gender or education or passions or commitments or phobias. You could come and have a few moments of solace, just you and your mat. You didn't have to be anything or look any certain way, you just had to keep breathing.

I have now been practicing yoga seriously for a year and a half. I have a special place in my heart for the little studio in Alpine where it all began, and I love every place and every teacher who I've had the pleasure of practicing with, from Bikram in West Linn, Oregon to Bikram in Lehi, Utah, to Sonic Yoga on 9th Avenue in New York City, to the place that has come to feel most like home: 3B in good old P-Town. During the summers I practice 5-6 days a week, at least an hour a day, and I remember last August when I was plugging in up to five hours a day. It's addicting, that much I know for sure. It was during that yoga marathon of a month (August 2012) when I did my first 30 Day Challenge, which was nothing more than simply practicing yoga every single day without fail. One of my teachers offered up the challenge saying, "You never know what you might discover," and in it I discovered, among other things, 3B. (I named my yoga mat "Thirty" after the challenge.)

I was discovering things like this:

And I've never seen something so simultaneously exciting and calming and inspiring. The part where she lifts herself up into that handstand you can see the shot of the city behind her just gives me chills.

I found myself daydreaming about acro yoga during history class:

I get so excited about yoga, you guys.

Like, just take a look at this:

 

It's beautiful. It's inspiring. It's exciting.

Yoga is so universal. In my travels around the world, I have found and been able to practice yoga anywhere I am. Yoga is healing, and the benefits range from sleeping better to weight loss to muscle toning to improving your digestion.

But for me, more than anything, yoga has helped to make me joyful. It's hard to explain all the things I love about yoga and the reasons I practice, but yoga has, both physically and as just, like, a person, made me stronger, more balanced, braver. It has allowed me to trust myself.

I think back often to the day I first began my serious practice and I am reminded of just how far I have come. There is nothing like the first time you hold bakasana (that one where you balance your legs on the back of your arms) or jump out of it into a chataranga or balance into a headstand or wiggle into lotus or kick up into pincha mayurasana (forearm stand) and I realize so often that when I began, I could not do these things. In fact, I couldn't do some of these things three weeks ago, but here I am, doing them, and that is so rewarding.

Just a couple weeks ago, my mom sold our kitchen table, so I happily claimed the space as an in-home yoga room, and I was thrilled to come home one morning from class and show off this new balance. (That's actually me on my mat on my kitchen floor.)

Yoga, I have discovered, is about so much more than being bendy. It's about discovering who you are. I'm really into dedicating my practices lately, which is something I used to forget to focus on, but I really believe it, even if it sounds a little wild. I dedicate my practices to people I love or goals I have or simply to myself and to having a good day, to being a little better than I was the day before.

There are so many associations with yoga that I have come to really love. I found myself explaining chakras (yes, they're for real, and yes, they're for awesome) and the symbolism of Om (harmony with the universe) to the cashier at Color Me Mine last week after having painted a cup with a huge lavender Om symbol and the words, "Be kind (to yourself, too). No exceptions," and "Everything has beauty." I'm an impatient, flawed person, and I find myself becoming more what I want to be with each vinyasa.

Originally, this post was maybe going to be an explanation of why I love yoga or the story of how I came to practice and love it or maybe I was going to convince all of you to also practice and love it, but I guess I don't really have the words to explain why I love it so much. It just sort of fit with me and my energy and I just can't get enough of it now, you know? I guess the point is, you guys ought to maybe practice yoga just a little. You can come with me, if you like. I'm more than happy to take you along, and I'm almost always going sometime soon.

I guess what I'm saying is this: Namaste, you guys. All the good in me salutes all the good in you.

"Yoga is not a religion. It is a science, science of well-being, science of youthfulness, science of integrating body, mind, and soul." -Amit Ray
ASB

*Most photos are from mayor-asana.tumblr.com, and many of the others are internet finds. I'd love to give credit where credit is due, so let me know what you know!