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The Comfort Zone and The Crutch

Writer's picture: jaclyn kingjaclyn king

It has been TEN days since I have done yoga. I’m embarrassed to even say it! I’ve spent the past ten days lounging around, eating potato chips, and drinking mimosas. The most exercise I’ve gotten has been dragging my luggage through the airport and carrying my sunscreen and book outside to the beach. I thoroughly embraced laziness and relaxation on my vacation. I slept in, took 40 minute showers, and watched hours of TV every night. I napped on a chair in the sun on my bedroom balcony and had cheeseburgers for lunch. I actually signed up for two different yoga classes and bailed on both of them! I even talked about heading down to the resort gym my first day there, but never actually got my ass in the elevator. I planned to walk on the beach every day, but didn’t end up walking further than the ten feet between the ocean and my lounge chair most days. 


This many days in a row without exerting myself physically is far outside of my comfort zone. Typically when I travel somewhere warm in the winter, the first morning of my trip I am up early to run. I almost always stay somewhere with a gym, and I make it a priority to sign up for yoga classes with local teachers wherever I am. This most recent trip was very much out of the ordinary for me. 


Those of you who know me on a personal level know that winters are sometimes hard on me; I struggle with seasonal depression, like many of us do in the dark north this time of year. My family has also had a “heavy” few months; the loss of a loved one and all of the responsibilities and turmoil that come with that, illness, the holidays, and several other minor disasters have made this winter especially hectic and emotional. I’ve always used my yoga practice and physical exercise as tools to combat the darkness, and with some degree of success. I get a dopamine hit from an intense workout or a long Asana session; my physical body has become my anchor and my lifeboat in times of mental stress. I have more energy when I work out, and I feel happier. Why, then, did I choose to be such a sloth on this trip, when I should have been pulling these tools out of the toolbox?


Because I realized that for the past several weeks I had been using my Anamaya Kosha, my physical self, as a distraction to keep me from dealing with imbalances in my other Koshas. Instead of addressing the needs of my emotional and spiritual self, which felt too fearful of a task, I would transfer those difficulties into a somatic experience and try to “kill” them with exercise. If I just lifted heavier weights or held that challenging posture longer, my emotional pain would fade, right? Ugh, after all I’ve learned you’d think I would have recognized what I was doing! I’d turned my yoga and my own damn body into a crutch. Crap. 


When we booked this trip, my husband and I had talked about how we wanted it to be a reset of sorts; a way to heal and breathe after so much upheaval, and get back to stasis. I decided that if that was actually going to be the case, I had to put down the dumbbells, allow myself to be still, and sit with my discomfort (in my case the discomfort is in not moving). I had to spend the past ten days letting go of all the rituals and routines that I’d put into place in my life that I thought would hold me together in some sort of  fragile scaffolding... and just be. As uncomfortable as I am with letting go of myself, I knew that holding on more tightly wouldn’t help. So I ignored that inner critic, the one who was calling me lazy and indulgent, left my guilt and negative self-talk at home, got on a plane, and went somewhere to sit on my ass and eat junk food all day. I didn’t write in my journal or pull tarot cards or meditate or do any exercise at all. And it was (shockingly) glorious.  


Did something shift while I was gone? Yes. I didn’t realize it until we were literally in the car on the way home from Boston Airport, and my husband said, “I think this week worked.” And I was like “oh my god I think you’re right!” And we laughed and held hands and came home.


Did I come home to all the pressures and responsibilities I had before? Hell yes. Did I get up this morning and go straight to the gym? Um, of course. I never said I was going to stop working out forever! What changed was my why. I went to the gym today because it’s good for me and it feels good and it makes me happy, NOT because I needed to hurt myself physically in order to avoid feeling other types of pain. I wasn’t pushing myself physically as some type of shield; rather, this morning’s exercise felt joyful in a way that it hasn’t in some time now. I was practically dancing between sets. Am I advocating that as soon as you feel out of whack you should hop on a plane? No, I understand that’s not an answer for everybody or every situation. Going to the beach is lovely but it’s not essential. The reset happens on the inside.


What I am saying is that sometimes we cling to our wellness rituals too hard. We use yoga or exercise or meditation or listening to a specific recording of specific sounds in bed every night as a way to avoid addressing that which needs to be addressed. If you find yourself saying or thinking “I need XYZ in order to be okay,” then maybe it’s time to put the yoga blocks/meditation app/essential oils down and slowly back away. Just for a little bit. Try to find a way to be okay without your strict regimen. Heal yourself by settling into your discomfort zone and listening. Watch what happens to your inner landscape when you turn your schedule of supports upside down. If stillness is your safe place, get up and move. If constantly going out and socializing is your avoidance strategy, stay home. Once you feel balance return, go back to what you love and enjoy rediscovering it with renewed passion!


Take some time to examine your wellness rituals. Are any of them being used to avoid? Are you escaping into a particular practice? What is your crutch? What are you hiding from? Remember, the only way through is through. 


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