It wasn’t that one day I cleaned my ears with a Q-Tip and suddenly it was clear; the ingredients of change intermingled slowly. Giving up something that had been a part of me for almost a decade was not an easy decision.

Last summer, I decided to take action on some minor health issues that I had been apathetic towards for many years. I am 32 now, and feeling my mortality a little more closely. My doctor identified that the causes were not physical – instead, they were likely stress related. Her mandate was to treat the ends, not the means. This wasn’t an adequate solution for me, and so I looked outside of conventional medicine.

I started seeing a naturopath last November, but I have to admit, the course of naturopathic treatment didn’t suit me. I sustained it for five months, and in the end, the practitioner was as lost as how to help me. She had tried everything in her bag of tricks. But in one of my early visits, she recommend that I try yoga – a piece of advice that I acted on.

Enter Yoga

Establishing a yoga practice has created an undefinable space in me. It didn’t come right away, but with regular practice, it also didn’t take long. From the start to end of each class, I experienced a temporary transformation from chaotic to calm. At first it didn’t seem to be lasting far beyond the end of class. But the decision to continue to practice regularly meant that I was finding intention outside of class.

Somehow this practice has grounded life in me. That’s a pretty grand statement, but I think above all, it began to crack open my mind, and in the space created – a reservoir of new ideas, feelings and motivations pooled. I took a renewed interest piano (after 15 years), writing, sharing my recipes with others, I started this blog. I also have began to think of yoga a lifestyle over an intermittent practice.

Listening

Ironically, during this time, my stress response was becoming more acute. I had little idea of the cause or solution, and felt deeply frustrated that I was doing “everything right” to mitigate it. In an effort to further understand the stress, I identified the triggers of anxiety in my life, and observed my reaction them to them closely. I also started talking about stress. It had grown to a degree that I couldn’t just abide with it internally, I needed to start expressing it to people close to me. As soon as I put it into words, it was real, manifest, and could stand nothing short of a solution.

My now former job is truly remarkable – working remotely with the freedom to travel and work, great people, a small business energy that let you see your ideas turn into results in short measure. The exchange currency used to be simple: I gave a lot, and took back the satisfaction of a job well done. But in the past year, that hasn’t been enough. Beyond doing a job well, I’ve also realized that I want to do something that resonates more closely with my nature.

In the past, changing careers has been something I have discussed with my husband as if I was talking about someone else’s life. I’ve never let the idea penetrate the security shield protecting my sound existence. I would deflect the idea of “moving on” as something for the future, always a couple more years down the road. I didn’t shed light down an alternate path; I only saw darkness and unknown, and a direction of infinite fear.

Yoga helped me turn on the light.

Whatever I choose as my life’s pursuit, becomes my outlet for personal energy and creativity. I don’t like the word “work”, especially when used in contrast to “life” or “personal time”. I feel like I’ve sold myself short if I spend too much time doing something in a category defined by unwilling effort. Stress comes naturally when I engage in my life’s pursuit, and that is fine by me.

It’s remarkable how positive, energetic stress can degrade into destructive stress when the inner drive has shifted gear. But because I had all the parameters in place for an objectively ideal life; I had believed that my attitude was all that needed to change. I tried to continue to work as hard as I ever had, but at some point I passed empty and started running on fumes.

The Question

One night at dinner a close friend posed the idea “Why don’t you work part-time?” In the past I would have laughed at the idea; I believed my job simply couldn’t be done with part time effort. But the suggestion came surprisingly easy to me, I felt an immediate energy in even considering it. I brought up the idea with my former business partner. He himself had noticed that something was wrong, and was happy to accommodate this request on a short term basis.

What could the other half of my time might bring?

Nightly, between midnight and 6am, I’d lie awake considering what a part-time split between work and life could bring. But ultimately I did not want that distinct separation – I wanted to be pursuing something with full-time engagement. I was deeply restless, I don’t sit well in limbo without a firm decision in hand.

Understanding

One Saturday night during another contemplation session, I was sitting alone on my couch, computer on my lap, and I stumbled across an excerpt from “Soul Dance”, by Bill Plotkin

Harley Swift Deer, a Native American teacher, says that each of us has a survival dance and a sacred dance… Our survival dance, a foundational component of self-reliance, is what we do for a living—our way of supporting ourselves physically and economically… Once you have your survival dance established, you can wander, inwardly and outwardly, searching for clues to your sacred dance, the work you were born to do.
Read full excerpt

The feeling that came over me was best described as elated nausea. I heard myself so clearly. It was time to leave my survival dance behind, and set a new rhythm for myself. The dance actually became literal… I did a little jig in my living room.

Decision

I resigned five days later. The move was quick but I couldn’t deny my resolution. The hardest part of this process was recognizing that although I have undeniable fears, I can choose to accept and move beyond them. Everyone has fears. I started to look at people who I respect and realize that they too have fears; likely as many as me! But fears are only temporary if you act in spite of them. And soon there will be new ones to take their place, but their power will be lessened. Although they pass through your present life, they won’t calcify your spirit with apathy.

Don’t get too comfortable in the safe and secure default settings that limit your potential in life. For me, it took physical symptoms to alert me to a possible problem. Next I needed to create space to figure it out, and in that space, new passions started evolving. Once I listened, deciding on a solution and acting on it were much easier tasks.

Since my resignation I’ve been glowing. It’s a funny thing, strangers have been randomly greeting me while walking my dog. Apparently I’ve lost a subtle crease in my brow, and replaced it with a smile. It has not taken long for brilliant opportunities to arise from darkness, and I’ve begun to trust that as long as I choose a future that transcends fear and apathy, I will thrive.

At Ian’s suggestion, I’ve decided to write down my state before and after class experience, to note mini-transformations that can directly be related to yoga class.

Before Class

I’m purple with cold and obsessing about how tired I look. I’ve been sitting too long today (as usual) so my heart is beating low and steady. It’s sunny and beautiful and the day’s still go a lot to give!

After Class

I was doing amazingly well until I came home, tripped over the dishwasher and smashed by knee on the stoneware plates. The collateral damage: one chipped plate. My knee is still swelling.

That event aside, yoga practice was settling. I warmed up, exchanged a lot of air, unglued some tightly bound muscle fibers. My central focus today was on breathing. It was a good opportunity because it was a hatha class, where I couldn’t push myself physically beyond my limits. In savasana I didn’t get tracked away by any thoughts for too long… just one in particular about outlasting my genetic potential.

Time for dins.

Photo by: alfarman looking up

By day, I am a software developer, and I really enjoy it. I’m a problem solver, a systems-thinker, and I get to exercise this talent continuously. If I were to take a career aptitude test, I’m pretty sure that I’ve followed their recommendations to a tee. It fits my personality, my brain is wired this way.

But something in me is off kilter. Like so many others, I’ve learned that I’m prone to chronic stress. I spent my twenties living in it, sometimes feeding off it as a source of energy, motivation and self-control. But now in my thirties, it feels like a condition. The negative side effects are becoming more visible, or maybe I’m just more aware of them. My panic episodes stem from day to day events. The immediate physiological symptoms are hideously predictable to me. I sit in wonderment as my body reacts, preparing myself to run from a surprise prehistoric attack of a rival tribe.

But the equation doesn’t add up. I have a great life! I live in a beautiful place, I’m interested in my job, have an amazing life partner, I eat right, finances are in order, great friends, etc etc etc. How does that form a foundation for stress? I’ve been frustrated and baffled, at times questioning my sanity.

I’m starting an experiment because I have a theory.

Does inner peace stem from giving away something that you are passionate about?

My friend Sean has tried to convince me on a few occasions to start a website for women in technology (okay… he actually envisioned “Tech Babes”, a place to prove that women can be geeks and still be sexy, but I’ll forgive him for that). The problem is, I don’t have a voice inside me encouraging me to share my technical know-how. There are thousands of brilliant developers who keep blogs, sharing code, home-brewed applications, speaking at conferences, actively exchanging ideas. But that’s not me. I might take up the opportunity sometime, but I don’t feel driven to do it. It’s not part of my path, I feel very certain about it.

But here I am, thinking about Food and Yoga. These are two things for which I feel compelled to emit my thoughts, ideas, experiences and recipes. I feel like I want to “teach” others, starting from this platform. I don’t mean a unilateral dictation of my subjective self, but outwardly sharing a piece of my inner self, starting a conversation and and exchange. I want to give this away, and uptake energy and ideas from others.

Is occurred to me yesterday that this practice may have an effect on my stress. This wasn’t a flash of brilliance, rather I noticed that the feeling of stress hadn’t come over me that morning, and I wasn’t on holiday, and it wasn’t a weekend. Instead, I was thinking about Food and Yoga, and what I wanted to share on this site. Humans are social beings, we’ve evolved because of our ability to exchange of ideas. It’s in our nature to share with an intent greater than exchanging ideas for currency. Could it be that inner peace stems from giving away something that you are passionate about? I’m sure it’s not the entire solution – but to what degree could it contribute to lowering stress?

So if there’s any basis to my theory, the next question is: to what degree do you have to devote yourself to your passion? Does it need to be your career, your full-time pursuit? At this point, I don’t think so. I think that as long as you can incorporate it in a meaningful way, you’ve listened to yourself and you’re acting from the right place.

What do you have in you to teach? What knowledge would you give away? This doesn’t have to mean standing in front of a group, some people are not comfortable in the situation. But it could be a blog, a book, magazine articles – an outward stream of communication from yourself to others.

Does this resonate with you? Leave me your comments.