Let's try this Blog thing again.

I actually have a lot to write about. And a friend has nudged me to start a Blog about my adventures. So, here we go.

I am about to transition to a new gig, which leaves me in a reflective mood. Taking stock of the past 3 months, these are the changes I noticed -

My body has changed a lot. I'm much stronger. I actually have calf muscles now, tapering down to thin ankles. These are substantial legs - the legs of a hiker! And I am proud of them, because I earned them. They are a sign of all the hard work I've been doing - of my 3 months of trail work, my climb up Mount Whitney, and my numerous round-trip hikes to Horseshoe Canyon. My back is stronger and more muscular, as are my arms, although not as strong as they were after I just finished my trails gig. I am eager to get back to trail work and get my upper body strength back. (Hopefully this will happen in January, if I get the trails position in Southern California that I applied for...)

One thing I've realized is that I feel much, much better when I'm moving my body a lot. It seems a bit paradoxical, but from another perspective it also makes sense, that when I do a lot physically, I want to move more and more. For example, the days at the park when I just sit in the Ranger Station at the computer, I feel lazy and deengerized when I go home, and have to drag myself to workout if I do it at all. But the days when I do the 7 mile hike to the Great Gallery and back, I feel amazing, and slide easily into yoga poses with my aching muscles craving some delicious stretch.

This brings me to another realization - my yoga practice has been inextricably weaved into my life, and I don't have to fear losing it. I began my career as a yoga instructor only about 4 months before transitioning to trail work. The teaching of yoga was a transformational thing for me. I grew up a "shy girl." Choosing a career that involved standing in front of a room talking to groups of people - instructing these people, telling them what to do with their bodies - is not something I thought I would ever choose. Placing myself in the position of authority, implying that I have something valuable to teach.  And it was only through facing this fear and doing the thing I thought I could not do, that I learned this. Through teaching, not only did I gain confidence and become stronger mentally, and reinforce my positive beliefs about life and spirituality to myself as I taught them to others, but I also grew much more physically strong. In teaching, I demonstrated the entire flow series as I taught it. This is the only way that worked for me. I improvised my classes in the moment, and could only construct a cohenrent, flowing class by doing the postures myself as I taught them. In this way, teaching became a meditation, an excercise in multitasking, and a major strength builder as I worked to project my voice while demonstrating challenging poses at the same time, trying to maintain a controlled, yogic breath throughout.

Well, without having that commitment to teach, my yoga practice waned. And being on trail crew left me so exhausted at the end of day that maintaining a serious asana practice was out of the question for me. However, I did do a lot of yoga-inspired stretching, which helped me to stay injury-free. And now that I have my own apartment, I find that even practicing for 10 minutes can have a big effect on my mood. I've also noticed how easily I slip into Ujjayi breath without even thinking about it - it just happens naturally as I stretch.

I've realized more of what all this work in the outdoors is about for me. It's about getting in tune with nature and being comfortable living in the outdoors, learning the rythyms of nature and her power. It's about getting into the body, using it to create, and learning my own strength. It's about learning how to live in community.

I named this blog "Wearing Hats" because I feel like I have so many roles in this life... and that I will try on many hats (both literal and metaphoric) before I settle down anywhere (if I ever settle down at all). For now, my hat is a winter beanie as I brave the cold snow of Southeast Utah. A few weeks ago, it was a National Park Service baseball cap, part of my official uniform. And this summer, it was the yellow SCA hard hat required on trail crew. Oh, plus a sun-bonnet that was indespensible for sun protection during those long hikes. Before that, there were no literal hats involved, but several roles - that of a yoga instructor, a children's tutor, and an engineer. An energy-healer. An aspiring artist, a timid and as yet inexperienced musician, a dancer, a chef, a gardener, a writer.

I'm realizing more and more that not only is it possible to be all of these things, but it is actually quite exciting. I don't imagine that I will be bored in this life anytime soon.