Jade Lizzie

Sharing the yoga love

Month: October 2015

12 Things To Do At Suryalila

Things to do at SuryalilaWhether you visit Suryalila Retreat Centre as a guest, a yoga teacher trainee or a volunteer, this is the definitive list of things to do at Suryalila…

  1. Gorge yourself on the delicious food and tell yourself it’s fine because it’s all so damned healthy. Vow to eat more lightly the next meal, then go back for seconds. And thirds.
  2. Do yoga at 8am and feel virtuous and smug all day. Make sure everyone knows about it.
  3. Conversely, miss one early morning yoga class to lie in. Even hardcore yogis deserve a day off. And it’s cool to be a yoga rebel. Fact.
  4. Borrow a deeply spiritual book from the bookshelf in the hall and convince yourself that it will change your life.
  5. Laze by the pool pretending to read said deeply spiritual book, then doze and hope it enters your consciousness via some miracle of osmotic transference instead.
  6. Take photos of yourself doing the fanciest looking yoga postures you can think of in the Om Dome then immediately post them on Instagram. #Suryalila. It’d be a waste not to.
  7. Walk to the ruins wearing inappropriate footwear. Who brings hiking boots to a yoga retreat anyway?
  8. Tear yourself away from Suryalila for the day to visit Prado Del Rey and enjoy the ridiculously cheap vino and tapas at Carmen’s.
  9. Speak Spanish, even just a little. You are in Spain after all. Practise on the donkey if you’re too nervous to try the staff.
  10. Eat the vegan rice milk ice cream. Just trust me on this one.
  11. Promise to transform your lifestyle when you go home. Daily yoga, meditation, reading and clean, fresh organic vegetarian food cooked from scratch can’t be so hard to keep up, right?
  12. Book a return trip before you even leave so you know it’s not goodbye forever.

Fellow Suryalila fans, let me know what I’ve missed!

I’m just being honest…

Is there anything wrong with telling the odd white lie? I wrote my last blog about how I’m trying to minimise the lies I tell, but I’m still working this one out…

Photo by Michael Carruth on Unsplash

Here I’m talking specifically about the white lies you tell to protect someone’s feelings. The “Your new haircut looks great,” or “No, I didn’t think the cake tasted burnt,” or “I loved the present you chose for me,” kind of lies.

A quick Google search reveals this is a polarising issue (yes, I use the internet as my moral compass. And what?). Some people believe that protecting someone’s feelings is paramount, while others take a more hardline approach. They believe that all lying is bad because it presents the recipient with a false or distorted representation of reality.

I can see where this comes from, but I also know that some of the most hurtful things I’ve ever heard came from someone who was “just being honest”. Surely when honesty becomes an excuse for cruelty, something has gone very wrong.

What does yogic philosophy teach us about lies?

In terms of the yogic principles I try to live by, ahimsa, or non-violence comes before satya or truth. Therefore it is as important not to do harm with your words as it is to be truthful. Perhaps my Nana was onto something all along when she told us, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”

It’s also worth remembering that your opinion is not the same as the truth. My opinion might be that you shouldn’t have cut your hair, but that’s not to say that this is true. It’s just my perception, based on my personal preferences, experience and ideas.  Is my opinion in this case particularly useful to you? No. So maybe I don’t need to share it.

If someone directly asks you what you think of something, particularly if it’s something personal to them, it’s worth trying to work out what they want from you. Are they actually asking for your opinion or just looking for affirmation that they are good enough? Once you know that, you can figure out how best to support them with your answer.

That’s not to say that you should never speak the truth for fear of hurting someone. Sometimes it is important to give someone constructive feedback for example. But I do think this can be given with sensitivity and kindness if the ultimate intention is to help them.

So where does this leave us with white lies?

I’m still working this through, but I reckon if you are tempted to tell a white lie or avoid the truth, consider…

  • Is it necessary to say anything at all?
  • Can you find something to say which is both honest and kind?
  • What will ultimately help the person most in this situation?

I don’t know who said this originally, but it’s always struck me as good advice…

“If you have to choose between being kind and being right, choose being kind and you will always be right.”

The importance of being honest

When was the last time you told a lie? Why did you tell it? And what effect did it have on you, and the person you told it to?

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about honesty, because as a yoga student and teacher I try to practise satya, or truthfulness.  I’ve also been inspired by the book Radical Honesty by Brad Blanton. In it, Blanton argues that the lies we tell to ourselves and others ultimately manifest in our bodies as illness and stress. Now, I’m not in agreement with everything in the book (far from it), but something about this idea resonated with me.

So, in the spirit of being more honest, I’ve worked out that the lies I’ve told in the past have generally fallen into one of the following categories:

  1. Guilty conscience lies – These are the lies you tell if you feel threatened in some way by the truth. Maybe you want to avoid getting into trouble, damaging a relationship or simply looking bad. “I’m sure I checked that there was enough milk in the fridge before I left.”
  2. Storytelling lies- Ever catch yourself adding details to a story to make it funnier, or exaggerating to emphasise a point? These are the little lies that enhance the narrative to suit our purpose. “I’d literally been working for twelve hours straight, when…”
  3. Hiding your feelings lies – Sometimes you might lie to hide your own hurt, discomfort or even happiness. “No don’t worry – of course I‘m not upset
  4. White lies –  I’m defining these as the untruths you tell to avoid hurting someone else’s feelings. “Of course your new haircut suits you.”

How can we be more truthful?

The first three categories are the lies I’m working hardest to minimise. They’re generally motivated by ego, and thinking that your actions, behaviours or feelings aren’t ok just as they are and need hiding or distorting. They are sustained by the belief that being yourself is not good enough.

With the guilty conscience lies, I’m finding the more I’m honest about my mistakes, the better I feel, and actually the more I trust myself to do the right thing. Holding yourself accountable for your actions is an intrinsic part of living more truthfully.

As for storytelling lies, when I feel myself getting caught up in the excitement of having a good story to tell, I take a deep breath and remind myself to be as truthful. Even if that means the story isn’t quite as funny…

But I’ve found the hiding your feelings lies to be the hardest to avoid. I don’t like admitting that I’m hurt or sad. It’s one of the reasons sometimes I find writing this blog so hard, because I try to always write with honesty, and that can leave me feeling vulnerable. But I think maybe these lies are the most important to address. If you can’t be honest with others about how you feel, then you’re only allowing them to get to know a representation of you. Letting them see the real you is far more scary and vulnerable, but it’s the only way to genuine connection. What’s more, when you’re honest with others, you often give them permission to be honest with you.

Starting with self-awareness

Being honest has to start with being honest with yourself. Every time you are tempted to lie, or every time you do, ask yourself, “Why would I say that?” And if it’s because you believe you’re not good enough as you are or you’re ashamed of something you’ve done, take a deep breath and try speaking the truth instead. The difference it makes might surprise you.

And what about the white lies? Watch this space for a whole other blog post to come on those…

Wishing you all a week of courage and honesty!

To be alive is to be vulnerable

Be Vulnerable“When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability… To be alive is to be vulnerable.”

Madeleine L’Engle

I’d like to know whether other people find their experiences on their yoga mats echo their experiences in life as often as mine seem to? This morning, in yoga class, I was practising wide-legged standing forward fold. This is a posture I am used to, and when the teacher gave us the option to lift up into tripod headstand, I moved my hands to lift up in the way I always do. She came over to me.

“No, keep your hands where they were.” She then held my hips clearly expecting me to lift into headstand from this strange position.

I panicked. Is she crazy? I can’t lift from here. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never even seen someone do a headstand like this. What if I fall? And so on.

But somehow, my body ignored my mind’s agitation, and I felt my legs lift into the strangest, most exhilarating headstand I’ve ever done. My teacher stayed with me the whole time, letting me find my balance, and the more I surrendered and trusted her, the safer I felt. When my feet made it back safely to the ground, I was buzzing. I felt like I could take on the world.

It reminded me of a similar experience earlier this week. I rode on the back of a friend’s motorbike for the first time. I hadn’t expected to find this scary – I’ve been on the back of scooters lots of times. It turns out I’d slightly underestimated the difference between motorbikes and scooters. As the speed picked up, I went from casually holding on to clinging on as if my life depended on it. Which to be fair, it did. I felt terrifyingly vulnerable. In that moment I hated my friend for their confidence and speed.

But then I remembered something. I remembered that people love this. That they get a thrill from it. I was on the most beautiful road, with nothing separating me from the view, going so fast it felt like I was flying. I didn’t even have to worry about riding. I could literally relax and enjoy it, if I chose to. All I had to do was surrender my need to be in control and trust my friend.

And so I did. I mentally (not physically – I’m not stupid) let go and surrendered control. I chose to enjoy the experience instead of fighting it. I realised how rarely I do this. How hard I find it to put my trust in someone else and hand over control to them.

Because it means being vulnerable. To trust someone is to give them the power to hurt you. But I know that by refusing to let myself be vulnerable I hold myself back. I miss out on beautiful new experiences that I can’t have on my own.

Just as importantly, I’m not giving others the trust and credit they deserve. My yoga teacher would not encourage me to try something unless she knew she could stop me from falling. Similarly my friend would not risk my life for the sake of a motorbike ride.

Just because someone can hurt you doesn’t mean they will. In fact, it’s most likely they won’t. And I think life is considerably better – richer, more beautiful, more exciting and fulfilling when you let yourself to be vulnerable. I just need to keep remembering that.  I’ll take it one headstand at a time…

Love, Jade

P.S. For more on how to be vulnerable, and why it’s worth it, check out this fantastic TED talk from Brene Brown.

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