How to Stay On A Permanent Vacation

Hello Dear Readers,

I am bound for Philadelphia, so I am taking a vacation this week - but not really.

You will find me vacationing, not in Philly although there are some great sights to see there, while making a "first ever of its kind" presentation to a national audience. I'll be speaking on the unique methods that medical professionals can use to employ medical therapeutic yoga in athletic training and rehabilitation settings.

Turns out, last year The National Athletic Trainers' Convention invited me to speak on the very topic I have been practicing since 1995. So this Thursday I'll be in vacation mode while presenting: Complementary and Alternative Medicine in Practice: Using Evidence Based Yoga to Evaluate the Athlete.

For those of you who have a professional interest in my work you can find me here:
Location: NATA Annual Convention June 24, 2010 Thursday, 7-9 am Philadelphia, PA
Presentation: Complementary and Alternative Medicine in Practice: Using Evidence Based Yoga to Evaluate the Athlete
Author: Ginger Garner MPT, ATC ERYT-500, PYT, Founder & Executive Director of Professional Yoga Therapy
Assistants: Terersa Donahue, PTA, PYT, and Eleanor Liebson, OT, PYT

Otherwise, what's your take home message?

A vacation is a state of mind. Although I did just return from a much longed for but surprisingly last minute vacation with my husband, I am working on remaining in this "vacation state of mind" as long as I can sustain it. (kind of like trying to stay in a meditative, calm, serene state long after your meditation or yoga class has ended).

You know, it's tough work staying this relaxed all the time - trying to stay in vacation mode - but it is working! But now faced with making this presentation, I am going to have to take the commitment level up a few notches. It will be rather hard to stay in my "vacation state of mind" while making a first ever presentation to a huge group of medical professionals - an ever intelligent but also healthily skeptical group of human beings (this won't be easy for me to do).

However, I am committed to the task. After years of trying (sometimes succeeding, sometimes failing, but always picking myself up, dusting myself off, and trying again) to stay on the Constant Prayerful Meditation Wagon, I realize that I don't need to wait for years to get on the Constant Vacation Wagon. I just need to go there in my mind, and realize that, in the words of Jon Kabat-Zinn, "where ever I go, there I am."

In other words, I don't have to be touring a cathedral in Europe (my kind of vacation) or lounging on the white sands of some distant Pacific island (not as enjoyable as Europe for me) to be able to relax, renew, and restore. I just need to flip the "vacation" switch in my mind.

So here it goes - this week I am working in the trenches of the "healing arts field" 7 days in a row. The first part of the week I gave my all in "administering the healing arts" through back to back vocal performances at concerts in North Carolina. The latter part of the week will find me trying to do the same but through a very different channel - physical therapy, athletic training, and medical yoga.

I am determined, though gently and steadily, that I will retain the joys of touring that Cathedral in Europe (yes, I actually did do that two weeks ago on my real, physical vacation) or eating a great Italian meal in Tuscany (jeez, it has been 12 years since that vacation) - no matter where I am.

So when you get mired up in the drudgery of your work week - remember that you can choose to be determined too. Take yourself where ever you must travel in your mind in order to stay present, focused, pleasant, calm, and content. Whichever imagery works best for you, whether it is a "Vacation State of Mind" or a getting on the "Constant Prayerful Meditation Wagon," remember that at any time, any place, and in any circumstance - you have the power to source those deepest feelings and memories that bring you great joy, great healing, and a great inner (and outer) peace. I believe that is yoga's greatest gift.

*photo was taken just outside the Bath Abbey, in the square, two weeks ago. Bath, England

The Most Important Job of Your Life

As a parent - mother or father - our greatest legacy is our children. Any influence we have past our own life - will likely persist through our children.

Greater than any job we might ever have, and I bet if you asked President Obama he'd answer the same, being a parent (can) be the most important job of your life. Ensuring our children thrive then, is crucial to the health and future of our country.

My husband recently was sitting in the local Toyota dealership where we get our Prius serviced, and he heard the lyrics to this song. He later emailed me the lyrics, and I keep them in my "Perspectives Folder" in my Outlook Inbox. Whenever I need a booster shot to remind me what is most important in life, I visit my "Perspectives Folder."

Here are the lyrics, set to a tune probably familiar to most everyone (at least in my generation and older):

Cats In The Cradle by Harry Chapin

A child arrived just the other day,

He came to the world in the usual way.

But there were planes to catch, and bills to pay. He learned to walk while I was away.

And he was talking 'fore I knew it, and as he grew, He'd say, "I'm gonna be like you, dad.

You know I'm gonna be like you."

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon, Little boy blue and the man in the moon.

"When you coming home, dad?" "I don't know when, But we'll get together then.

You know we'll have a good time then."

My son turned ten just the other day.

He said, "Thanks for the ball, dad, come on let's play.

Can you teach me to throw?" I said, "Not today, I got a lot to do." He said, "That's ok."

And he walked away, but his smile never dimmed, Said, "I'm gonna be like him, yeah.

You know I'm gonna be like him."

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon, Little boy blue and the man in the moon.

"When you coming home, dad?" "I don't know when, But we'll get together then.

You know we'll have a good time then."

Well, he came from college just the other day, So much like a man I just had to say, "Son, I'm proud of you. Can you sit for a while?"

He shook his head, and he said with a smile, "What I'd really like, dad, is to borrow the car keys.

See you later. Can I have them please?"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon, Little boy blue and the man in the moon.

"When you coming home, son?" "I don't know when, But we'll get together then, dad.

You know we'll have a good time then."

I've long since retired and my son's moved away.

I called him up just the other day.

I said, "I'd like to see you if you don't mind."

He said, "I'd love to, dad, if I could find the time.

You see, my new job's a hassle, and the kid's got the flu, But it's sure nice talking to you, dad.

It's been sure nice talking to you."

And as I hung up the phone, it occurred to me, He'd grown up just like me.

My boy was just like me.

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon, Little boy blue and the man in the moon.

"When you coming home, son?" "I don't know when, But we'll get together then, dad.

You know we'll have a good time then."

*Photo of my second son at 5 months, having a great time during this photo shoot.

Your Independence Day

Are you passive or active?

For the first time, I want to share the story - albeit the intensely condensed version - of How I went from a painfully passive girl to a boisterously proactive woman.

My first diary entry was January 1, 1983. It would take me 17 more years to (finally) come of age. I had no idea.

That "coming of age" had nothing to do with sex, drugs, or rock and roll. Really. Instead, it had everything to do with a series of subtle, simple (from the outside looking in), and gradual transformations.

I wasn't much for the rebellious type - I didn't see the point. Skipping class in college was perfunctory (only) if I was still able to get a 4.0 that semester. I spent my summers as a mission/aid worker but my quasi-friends and I still managed to get ourselves evicted from our sophomore year beach house (yea, that's a first and only admittance to that). I have little to no wild and crazy stories, except for some people might call the summer I decided to travel to Italy alone a spontaneous, extroverted thing to do.

In fact, I did what many women do - I married and finished grad school, took my first job, quit my first job, and started my own business - that consumed about 10 years of my life.

Then it came...when the cracked dish of my world finally fell into two pieces, and I (finally) admitted I had to stand up and declare my independence.

As a woman and a human being – May 26, 2004 was My Turning Point.

That day I made the first decision in my life - without seeking every one's approval. Heck, I distinctly remember not even asking for anyone’s opinion. I was liberated.


Are you an Approval Addict?

How often do we, as women, seek nods of approval before we set out to do something? anything? everything?

We are often guilty, as I was, of being an “Approval Addict." For years I pursued and pushed and followed through on all major (and minor) life tasks...and all the way I sought every one's smiling blessing.

Ironically though, I found myself at the bottom of the blessing-giving list. I really had no clue I never really wanted to do many (okay, alot!) of the things that I had willingly chosen to do in life - until My Turning Point.

My well being – my happiness - my health - was dead last.

My Turning Point was a day I will never forget. I never want to forget it. It was as Charles Dickens wrote, "the best of times and the worst of times."

It was my Independence Day.

Sure, I had experienced small epiphanies here and there, and still do - Oprah like "aha" moments, "coming out of the dark" moments where I see what my Life could and should be.

But I was not "that" kind of girl. I was not that kind of woman either - one to stand up and speak out. I was, after all, a southern born, conservative bred girl - at least on my birth certificate.

However, I finally began to realize that my background, or any woman's background - north, south, east, west, and of any religious, spiritual, or political background - is exactly the upbringing she needs. Now is a perfect time, no matter your situation - to be empowered - to stand up - to speak your mind - and if need be - create plenty of waves for positive change.

Well Behaved Women Rarely Make History ~ Laurel Thatcher Ulrich

Declaring Your Feminine Independence

I have learned a few things in this life so far, and I have and will always have many more to learn. Learning never ends. But in the meantime, here are a few of those things that steer me since My Turning Point. And really, these don't just apply to womankind - they apply to humankind.

• Consult those you trust, but don’t seek their approval. Instead, seek their wisdom.
  
• Spend time alone. Solitude has a way of creating clarity. Quite often, when indecision plagues you, time spent alone can bring answers.
• Make no apologies. I spent the better part of 15 years making fear based decisions - fear of rejection - fear of not pleasing everyone. I was chronically seeking everyone's approval but my own.
• Stand firm on your Spiritual Roots. Seek out the Belief system that grounds you. If you do not have those Roots, 2010 is the perfect time to set out and discover them. Spiritual maturity can help you make better decisions - ones with Permanent or Eternal Value.
  
• When faced with indecision - do what one of my very wise spiritual mentors taught me – “Pray - and then do the next right thing.” Do what you know is Most Right, based on what your past has taught you, where you are now, and where you WANT to go.
• Transformation can happen through Pursuit of Your Passion. Not unbridled, "fly by the seat of your pants" passion - but measured, thoughtfully pursued Passion. The transparency I offer up on this blog is to help all women. It is a Passion. But whatever yours is - Find It. Pursue It. Own It - for the little time you do have on Earth.
  

For every decision you are faced with, you can work toward "doing the next Right Thing" by asking yourself the following questions:

1. Should I ___________(the decision you are faced with) based on my past experiences and what I have learned from them?
2. Should I ___________ considering where I am in my life right now?
3. Should I ___________ considering where I want to go in my life or where I want to be in the future (1 year, 5 years, 10 years or more from now)?
   

Anything that is Alive must (can) Change. If you need it, 2010 can be Your Banner Year, Your Turning Point.

*this photo was taken in 2004, with my longtime best friend, Owen, who was and has been with me through it all. In less than 3 months, he will be 15 years old. God Bless Owen.

Direct Hit

Therapeutic yoga classes are a regular occurrence for me, whether I am teaching students or training therapists. I usually share inspirational readings or song when I teach, but last Monday's lesson came packaged in a personal experience.

Sunday, August 2, I penned on my facebook profile, "shutting down the computers, here comes the rain....nothing like a good thunderstorm." My son woke from his nap and so my husband, my son, and I went upstairs to the sun room to enjoy the view of the incoming storm. We love a rainy day as much as a sunny one (think of a beautifully dreary day with a little Miles Davis in the background and your hand wrapped around a cup of jasmine pearl green tea with local honey). My older son had awaken with the preliminary thunder, which he is petrified of, so he was sitting in my lap when it happened.

The most painfully loud, frying electrical sound I've ever heard, we could not peer out of the windows in our house, because of the hard rain against the screens, to see where the direct hit had been. Lightening, we knew it was, but it still took a minute (after our collective reflexive shriek) for the reality to register. We knew the proximity of the flash of light and deafening noise meant it was very very close. Too close.

I went downstairs to peer through the doors with windows to try and see what I could see, and that is when I saw the flood of water rushing down the hill next to our yard. After the storm had subsided, we surveyed the damage quickly and waited on the water company (whom we had phoned immediately) to show up and shut down the lines. Less than 10 minutes past before the water was shut down, but by then the place where our whole family had been standing had caved in, more than 6 feet deep into the ground.

Fortunately no one was hurt, and as this week passes we are still tallying the damage to the contents of our home. However, I see my story as one filled with gratitude.

You see, yesterday was the first day I had internet again. We no longer have tv or movies to watch, or music to listen to (what is most greatly missed by our family), or computers to distract us. The loss of material wealth has been quickly appreciated in our home. Our family has spent more family time together, and through this storm our deep sense of appreciation for each other has been reignited, as we are poignantly reminded of the blessings of our safety and for what we do have. And most importantly, my husband and I have most definitely spent less than time working (a much needed phenomenon).

Although we have more work loaded on our family in order to repair, fix, and replace what was damaged, my story if filled with immense gratitude. For every experience we have, good or bad, should cause us to lift up our heads to the sky and glean the beauty in it.

In a country that has a heavier workload than any other country, including Japan, sometimes it takes a lightening strike, a storm, an accident, an illness - to force us to slow down and appreciate the bounty of our blessings and the immense wealth we possess (which has nothing to do with our flatscreen tv's, laptops, or iPods).

In our frail and attention deficit ridden country, sometimes (too often), to get our attention, it takes a direct hit.

The lesson in this is not to expect a direct hit, loss, or tragedy, but this: No matter that my family is digging out from a direct hit to our tangible wealth, I still love a good storm. For pain and pleasure are separable by only a thin, sometimes invisible line. Find the Good in both.

*photo by Dr. Steven Horsburgh