As opposed to right.

by Andrea Marcum

I’ve been teaching yoga for more than 17 years now, but my first students — other than forgiving friends or giggling family members — were at a corporate gym tucked away in a high-rise building in Century City, California.

There were exactly two participants in the class, one man and one woman. You could hear CNN blaring on the monitors outside the room along with the purring choir of cardio machines, but in our little, overly air-conditioned bubble, what I could mostly hear was my fear. I wasn’t really sure I knew what I was doing.

The man, who looked to be in his sixties, was wearing very slippery athletic socks and was dressed for a tennis court. He had a mat that would’ve better served him as a floatation device than something he hoped to balance inexperienced poses on. It felt like his presence in my class was someone else’s idea, maybe his wife’s. He looked none too pleased.

The female student had clearly already taken about 15 workout classes that day. Edgy and impatient, she walked into the room talking loudly on her cellphone, and gave off a vibe of discontent before I ever opened my mouth. She lugged what looked like a suitcase of water into the room, and also insisted on using a pair of five-pound dumbbells during the yoga practice. I was too much of a novice to utter a word about them.

As we launched into our 90-minute class, clumsy uncertainty prevailed. At some point Slippery Socks Guy (SSG) agreed to take off his socks, and I brought him a more stable mat, but he was still not really buying it.

“Take child’s pose anytime you need it,” I told the two of them, crawling into it myself as a guide. Meanwhile, I was the one in need of the time-out child’s pose. I tried to cover my newness with botched Sanskrit and calculated sequencing. I called virabhadrasana (warrior pose) beeradrasa (which would have been perfect if we were at Oktoberfest), and kept confusing right from left, sometimes visiting the same side twice.

Time was moving at an insufferably slow pace. How was I supposed to fill up the entire hour-and-a-half? I looked up at the clock, sure we were a half-hour in, only to find that a mere seven minutes had gone by. I’d already rushed through three quarters of the poses I’d counted on to fill the 90 minutes at breakneck speed — including triangle pose no less than three times. There were 83 minutes in front of me, and zero ideas left in my amateur arsenal.

At minute 13, the woman abruptly rolled up her mat, picked up her liquid suitcase and left without any acknowledgment. This was particularly awkward with next to no one in the room to begin with. My fear got even louder.

So there we were, SSG and me, as if on an awkward first date with nobody sure of what to say. Suddenly I remembered a Bhagavad Gita nugget; “It is undoubtedly very difficult to curb the restless mind, but it is possible by constant practice cultivating a favourable attitude in the direction of the self and by detachment from a specific outcome.”

We started back at the beginning, in downward dog. His arms began to shake as his muscles learned to open up and remain stationary. He willingly took child’s pose to rest for a moment, and we had a refreshing chuckle about how such a simple pose could be so difficult.

He humbly agreed to modify his vinyasa by putting his knees down for plank and chaturanga (bent elbowed bottom of a push-up) and then to lower all the way to the ground for a safe cobra instead of an upward dog.

“In cobra pose your hips and legs stay on the ground as your upper body gently arches into a backbend, in up dog everything comes off the ground except for the tops of your feet and your hands. Cobra’s not as risky as up dog for your lower back.” I sounded like my syllabus without needing to refer to it. I had retained some of its information after all!

As we moved into some of the warrior poses, I asked him to step his right foot forward between his hands. He looked at me as if he had no idea of where he might find his foot or his hands and he nervously stepped his left foot forward. My earlier dyslexic faux pas left me sensitive to the fact that had I pointed out he’d stepped with his left and not his right, I’d only have made him more self-conscious. I was learning that sometimes you’d have to set down the rulebook and go with your gut. Even as he wobbled in the pose, we’d both become a lot steadier. As we made our way into the quieter seated poses of our cool down, I was surprised to look up and see that there was just enough time left for us to end with a five-minute savasana.

SSG returned to my class every week. Through our practice together, we began to develop clarity, discipline, and a kind of faith. I was getting my footing, and so was he (especially now that he was sock-free). Fear gave way to understanding, and more and more students joined us. We had inspired in each other two key components found in that earlier Bhagavad Gita quote as well as Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras: abhyasa (persevering practice) and vairagya (surrender).

All of us stumble, especially when we’re transitioning towards something new or unfamiliar. Abhyasa and vairagya demand that we resist the trappings of instant gratification and expectation that modern society seems to promote. We don’t plant a seed and expect a tree overnight. Our ventures and goals need to be watered and nurtured patiently and consistently, too. Ultimately, it’s not about doing things fast but about doing them well… taking off our socks and even taking an occasional child’s pose to get our footing for the long haul.

Andrea Marcum is a globe-hopping ambassador based in LA, but you can practice with her from anywhere with her yoga how-to videos. Her first book, Close to OM (St. Martin’s Press), will drop later this year. Meantime, follow her on Twitter and Instagram.

Image by Guy Shalem

And it starts with the fact we have the very same needs now as we did then.

by Aaron De Jong

From my earliest conscious awareness until now, I’ve strived to create my ‘best self.’ On the outside I am a 28-year-old Caucasian male living in Vancouver, BC. Adult me has lived in three different cities, completed an undergraduate degree, worked on mine sites, taught in high schools, and is currently a lululemon ambassador and owner of a fitness studio, Movement 108. On the inside, 90 per cent of the time I am operating from the position of five-year-old me.

Five-year-old me is quite simple. He wants to eat, run, play and feel love. That’s it. And I’d gamble most of us feel the same way. So how do we serve these five-year-olds?

Really, the only thing that separates us as five-year-olds from us as adults is how we express the same needs we’ve always had. As an adult, I have a tendency to disconnect and bury myself in work or physical activity when I’m avoiding some sort of hole in my life. It’s the same thing I did when I was five, when I would wail, cry, stamp my feet and slam my bedroom door.

When I stop thinking I need to live up to anyone else’s version of me, one truth remains; I want to figure out who I am for myself and how my actions reflect that person. And that person wants to love and be loved.

The way I’ve started to simplify and support this idea of self-love is by thinking of self-love as an action, not a thought. Looking in the mirror when I am miserable and saying “I love you” has never actually helped me. What has helped me is committing acts of self-love. Sleeping more. Going for hikes. Calling friends. Reaching out to people. Cooking nutritious food. Expressing my self-doubt. And most importantly, expressing my truest, deepest needs. When I stop putting the pressure on myself to be someone for anybody but myself, I can ask, “Okay, what is it I really need right now? Am I lonely? Am I emotionally insecure? Do I need someone to express love to me? Do I need to go for a walk? Am I in pain? Do I need a nap? Do I need to eat?” It really is that simple.

When I slow my self-induced frantic pace of life I’m able to help shift that five-year-old inside from a wailing voice to one that is content, courageous and excited by the prospect of all that is out there. It’s like sipping a hot chocolate after taking off all my sopping, cold clothes from playing outside when I was a little kid. In that moment, there was nothing more important than that hot chocolate.

If you’re reading this and thinking it’s bogus, I get it. My friends — who I always think are cooler, more together and happier than me — are only humanized when I look at them and realize, “Holy shit, they have a five-year-old inside them too!” We’re not all superheroes that can get it all done. And usually, if we are ‘getting it all done’ we’re not listening to our five-year-old selves.

So get up and do something, do anything. Make sure you think about how you feel while you’re doing it. If you come alive, if you feel like you, it’s probably an act of self-love. Be dedicated to finding that five-year-old inside you who really has huge feelings and giving him or her an adult voice.

Aaron De Jong, owner of Movement 108 fitness studio and a lululemon ambassador loves playing soccer, hiking and spending time with family. His true passions, however, lie in complimentary towels, Dad jokes and teaching people how to get optimal body and mind results without having to go full throttle. Follow him on Instagram.

What Celestial Gateways, Grand Slam Baseball And Gardening Have in Common With Living Your Best Life

Why lululemon ambassador Kellen Brugman loves the number 9.

by Kellen Brugman

September 9, 2016

In celestial math, this date adds up to 999, and 999 is the secret agent of change and transformation. It calls us to embark on a scared mission, to clear out junk that clutters our homes and lives, weighing down our creative spirits. This past week I decluttered my home. Now, I am in the process of evicting the three pesky stooges that block creativity: fear, doubt, and bullshit.

The number nine relates to clearing. Triple that and we have a grand slam past the stand and out into your field of dreams and your heart’s desires.

Think of this as the soul’s version of a Major League Baseball game (after all, baseball has nine innings). It’s time to leave the dugout, step up to home plate — a.k.a. your heart — and reflect on the things you want to stoke and how you want to shine in relation to your creative gifts. What do you love to do? What do you wish to offer the world? It’s time to step into your heart’s spotlight.

If you’re not a baseball fan, we can look at this from another perspective: gardening. September 9, 2016 was a new gateway to your personal garden of Eden, as it relates to creating the life you desire. It’s the perfect time to make space for your heart’s desires to take root and grow, when all your dreams relating to career, family, home, love, and creativity can blossom.

Starting September 9, the following three months are a fertile time to weed out unnecessary items and any old, dying mental patterns or relationships that no longer thrive or feel good. Do it so the ground is ready for seeds of your wildest and sweetest dreams. Grab your gloves (or, if necessary, a big ole weed whacker) to clear the clutter that’s blocking the path to adventure in this lifetime — the path leading to creative ease and grace.

I am living my dream, because I am able to devote two to four hours every day to write. However, in baseball terms, I am showing up as a third-string writer because I am not sharing my dream with others. I show up and practice every day at the home plate of my writer’s desk. I wield my pen and swing at words, which pop onto the pages of my journal. Every day I sit in my little Santa Barbara garden of Eden cultivating my journal library, yet the words and stories remain sequestered in my greenhouse of a writing studio. They long to feel the sunshine of the real world. It’s kinda crazy, eh?

Yet, I will not waste time clobbering myself over the head as to the ‘why’ behind my past year of becoming a writing recluse. Nope. I choose to show up right now and step through this auspicious 999 gateway with whatever I have to offer today. I am promoting myself to first-string, getting my ‘arse’ off the bench, stepping up to home plate and showing up to play. And from there, to simply swing the pencil and make an offering to the world. Voila! You are reading my offering.

Join me.

Now is the perfect time to honour ceremony and bless ourselves with grace, magic, bravery, and all creative badass wizardry. The world awaits our unique creative gifts.

To learn more about the 999 gateway leading us to year-end and how to best purge your physical, mental, and energetic clutter, check out this awesome article by Tisha Morris.

Big hugs…

Kellen Brugman is a writer, lululemon ambassador, yoga teacher, and Ayurveda lifestyle coach who shares self-care tips and creative adventures to help people enjoy more vitality, ease, and joy in their lives. She believes that magic, happiness, and creativity await us all when we dare to unroll a yoga mat or open a blank journal. Kellen lives in Santa Barbara, nestled between the ocean and mountains, where she enjoys hiking, music, writing, and doughnuts.

Seriously.

by Susanne Mueller

When I began to realize I had the ability and power to discover and develop who I was, I stepped onto a new path.

I had spent years forming myself into what I thought the world preferred me to be; a good student, hard worker, loyal friend, well-dressed, liked by everyone. I constantly quieted and masked my true self in order to be more accepted in this world. As a perfectionist, it was an endless pursuit to be less like me and more like those around me — or at least what they projected they were. Got it.

Eventually, I became exhausted of this way of being and unsatisfied with the results. I became drawn to books about living to your potential, knowing who you are, massage, yoga, telepathy, intuition — anything that seemed off the grid at the time, but so on the grid of coming back to me. I loved them, ate them up. They were nourishing my dried up soul from too many years of neglect. It was like drinking spring water after a long stretch of roaming the desert, so refreshing. I read and did whatever I could to feel better about who I was and the life I was living. My inner and outer world became alive again as I began to see and feel changes.

I signed up for courses, classes, workshops. I sought out anything I could get my hands on for satisfying answers to putting this this puzzle of myself and life back together again. I had new focus and direction with self-development.

And then, after years of self-helping, I met up with my sister for some travels in Spain. Naturally, I opened my inspiring travel pack full of books, CD’s of audio recordings and journals — a.k.a. my lifeline.

My sister just looked at me and, without hesitation, said, “You don’t need that shit.”

I had an uncomfortable realization. That “shit” had become my new strive for perfection. I had been so immersed in making myself and my life better that I still didn’t know how to be myself without working on myself. I still didn’t know who I was.

While all the searching gave me purpose and a lot of support along the way, ultimately I didn’t know how to be okay with me untouched, unaltered, unperfected. I still didn’t know how to just be me. I was actually once again masking myself rather than letting myself be exposed and raw to the presence of life out of fear of not being accepted. And I didn’t trust that I was going to be okay or accepted or happy without trying to become a ‘better me.’

Almost cosmically, that entire bag of inspirational books was stolen in Barcelona (along with my passport, and way too much cash). I took it as another sign that it was time to put the books down.

My vulnerability opened up and I stepped into a new stage of growth: not trying to grow. I left the books and the search behind, and truly settled into peace within myself (without a ‘how to settle into peace within yourself’ book). At first, it was awkward and uncomfortable, but eventually I found my footing.

What I discovered for myself is that the constant search for answers to ourselves might actually be taking us further from ourselves. We can forget that potent lessons come from our own life experience, and if we choose to learn from our experiences, remaining open to life as well as ourselves, we can gain far more insight and guidance rather than the next piece of advice from the latest best seller.

At some point, it’s time to put everything down and to start opening up, allowing life to reveal the answers, and experience to help us grow. In that place, we can settle into the wisdom of our inner guidance and intuition, and allow that to lead the way to ourselves.

Susanne Mueller’s own journey with anxiety has inspired her to work with women with similar struggles. She uses her understanding of yoga, holistic nutrition and intuition to guide women back to the intelligent wisdom in their own bodies. She is most passionate about working with those who struggle with disordered eating and body image , helping them find a place of calm and confidence within themselves and their lives. Follow her on Instagram and Facebook.

Combing literature, classic and modern, for the tools to live a better life.

by Kate MacLennan

Full disclosure: in the pursuit of self-improvement through reading, I’ve always gravitated towards time-tested literature—titles like Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Fountainhead and Siddhartha, which elevate a broad scope of philosophies within an emotional landscape, inspiring unique interpretation. Said another way, wonderful stories that motivate the reader to draw her own conclusions, and uncover her own perspectives for handling the challenges that arise in life.

Catherine Roscoe Barr, wellness coach, personal trainer and public speaker, accomplishes the same mission from a different, more scientific approach.

It would be reasonable to conclude that if there’s a self-help book sitting on a foundation of proven science out there, Roscoe Barr has devoured it. She has read and continues to read scientific self-help tomes voraciously, studying them, researching them, and mining them for golden nuggets of intelligence. She then deposits all that know-how into the ultimate metaphoric savings account, which she can draw upon as required to, well, win at life.

Fortunately, Roscoe Barr isn’t a selfish sort (perhaps something else learned through her readings?), and she shares her findings via The Life Delicious, which she’s dubbed a holistic wellness curriculum that transforms lives with a simple, science-based approach. Amongst a wealth of programs out there that claim to deliver the same value, the things that make The Life Delicious standout are the strategy it imparts (students leave her retreats having opened their own metaphoric savings account) and implementation (the scientifically proven practices to hard-wire our own minds to manifest the things we want and need — deposits made into that savings account).

Here’s a high-level glimpse into the goods.

TRIUMPHANT TRIFECTAS
Not unlike the use of trinities throughout the Bible (another time-tested piece of literature), Roscoe Barr’s scientific research has led her to conclude that holistic wellness can be easily interpreted and taught in trifectas. She then breaks down each of these trifectas into manageable, actionable bits.

For example, The Life Delicious is founded upon what she calls The Trifecta of Wellness:

· Stress management

· Exercise

· Nutrition

The Trifecta of Success she teaches, is:

· Gain knowledge

· Personalize rituals

· Consistent action

Physical health, she says can be broken into:

· Anti-sedentary revolution

· Posture

· Strength

PRACTICE GETS YOU A LOT CLOSER TO PERFECT
Roscoe Barr will be the first person to tell you that perfection isn’t the goal, but practicing to get there is. From journaling to positive psychology to regularly expressing gratitude, not only can we counteract our brain’s negativity bias, we can effectively train it so we can to manifest the lives we want to live.

THE BALANCING ACT
An all-or-nothing mentality, Roscoe Barr concludes, serves few, if anyone. Find balance in what you eat. Feel your good feelings and your bad ones. Build your physical strength but also take time to build mental strength. Learn the difference between thinking and acting, and understand that the two aren’t mutually exclusive.

MY TOP THE LIFE DELICIOUS TAKEAWAYS

· Create a morning routine that you love, then every day starts wonderfully.

· Adults don’t have the forced breaks in life that we had as children (think: naps, recess, summer holidays). Find those for yourself. Prioritize them.

· When working, do so in bursts followed by periods of renewal, as uni-tasking optimizes productivity and mental health.

Find out more about The Life Delicious retreats here.

Kate MacLennan is a writer, editor, and Global Editorial Manager at lululemon. She spends a lot of time outside on mountains, in oceans and lakes. Follow her on Twitter and Instagram.

The secret to perfecting the headstand is, unexpectedly, to fall.

by Andrea Marcum

Misjudging a headstand and crashing to the floor is about as much fun as getting unexpectedly fired from your job or having your heart broken. I believe, though, that falling out of a headstand can lead us to the pot of gold.

Headstands are fantastic, living laboratories. In them, suddenly upside down needs to become right side up, and we have to muster the courage to embrace the process of adjusting to a new perspective no matter how messy it gets. Similarly, our lives can feel messy, miscalculated and out of control when it comes to managing our schedule, dealing with deadlines, handling responsibilities or trying not to consume the entire box of dark chocolate covered almonds in one sitting. Whether we’re attempting to balance our cravings, calendars, cheque books or on the top of our heads topsy-turvy, these struggles are an integral step towards top of our game.

If we litter our inversions or our lives with impossible expectations we pin ourselves beneath frustration and impatience, which, in turn, erode the bravery and humility it takes to try again. We have to be willing to both fall down and get back up. Personally, I’ve tumbled many times — certainly out of my headstand — into a new headspace. When we get our hands dirty and really dig in the soil, sometimes we discover that when we think we’ve been buried we’ve actually been planted. Stumbles are an inevitable aspect of learning. It’s what we make of these wobbles that allow our seeds to bloom. To quote Buddhist monk and author Thich Nhat Hahn, “No mud no lotus.”

Much to my surprise, while I was leading a retreat in Mexico my husband, Dom (not exactly known for his interest in the metaphysical or “spiritual”), made us an appointment with Roxanna, the intuitive/psychic who my group had been raving about.

She had us rub a bouquet of aromatherapy oils into the palms of our hands and smell them with our eyes closed for a few minutes, and then… “You get frustrated,” she told Dom “and you bring it to the relationship. And Andrea tries to fix it. That is really frustrating, isn’t it?”

He agreed (a bit too enthusiastically).

“You need to leave him to his frustrations,” she told me. “They are positive, even though they don’t seem like it at the time. They’re what he needs in order to move to something better.”

Roxanna’s advice rings true for us all. We have to be allowed our seeming setbacks so that we can move through them, learn from them, and ultimately move on. To rush or to avoid this progression would be to cheat ourselves out of the gold that’s being mined and then, worst of all, we’d have to repeat the lesson.

Out of turbulence and hardship comes a little shining piece to the puzzle of why. A better understanding of what we’re capable of, and what we’re doing here. It is our way towards meaning. Sometimes we need to get a bit lost in order to find our self.

Our yoga poses affirm that change and improvement are going to be a bit scrappy. The trials of getting into a headstand reveal that often things are not going to go as we’d planned, but they just might turn out even better that way. In the yogic texts, pradikpaksha bvhavanan asks us to contemplate and take another view; to reframe our negative perceptions and see them as opportunities; to shift from buried to planted.

It’s more rewarding to do the work than it is to avoid it. We need to see balance and progress not as a single headstand, but as a part of a larger personal pilgrimage (sadhana). When we look at things through a wider lens, we can see every fumble, challenge and fall as an opportunity to grow. Each time we glean a little bit more wisdom to bring to our next inversion or adventure.

Incidentally, we’re all digging in the dirt together. So as we do, let’s encourage each other to see upside down as an enriching and critical part of being right side up.

Our mats are maps to hidden treasure. #MoveYourMat = shift your life.

We want to hear your stories. Be sure to connect with us here and on social media using the hashtags #thesweatlife and #MoveYourMat.

Andrea Marcum is a globe-hopping ambassador based in LA, but you can practice with her from anywhere with her yoga how-to videos. Follow her on Instagram and Twitter.

When the Irish surf went flat I decided to make my own weather.

by Tyrell Mara

I touched down in Ireland frothing for the surf.

I had two weeks in this beautiful country with my wife’s family. I had surfed Ireland earlier in the year and knew what kind of waves this coastline was capable of producing, and I was ready to score.

Surfing, and the adventure of finding great waves, has always been my outlet. It’s as though in those salty waters I am able to shed scar tissues of the stress, intensity, and energy I invest with reckless abandon on a daily basis. Having come off of an incredibly career-driven first half of 2016, as well as finishing my first season throwing discus in preparation for the 2020 Olympics, I was more than ready for liquid rejuvenation.

We checked into our hotel and then I checked in with my local connections; where was there going to be pumping, rugged, and remote surf to throw myself into? The answer was dream crushing.

“It’s not looking good,” my friend said.

“Okay, it’s not looking good over the next few days, but how about that swell on the map for early next week?” I rebutted, searching for the silver lining.

“Too much wind — worst kind of wind. I can’t believe it doesn’t look like one day is going to line up for you.”

No way.

The opportunity to travel all the way to Ireland with a young child, demanding career and Olympic training is next to impossible. How could this happen? I spent the rest of the day sulking and cursing the Universe. When the storm of frustration had passed, I quietly acknowledged a deeper truth that was rising up. This time out of the boardroom and off the track is precious to me. It nourishes my soul, my family, my leadership passion and Olympic pursuits. With my church — surfing — out of the equation, how could I make the most of it?

A MINDFULNESS PRACTICE: THE BACK STORY

Three months ago my whole being was crying for help — life was getting to be too much. Day after 16-hour day was divided between my career in leadership, Olympic training, and my family; I was loving the challenge, but I admittedly had stepped onto a hamster wheel, leaving no time for myself. It was time for a change.

I vowed to get up each morning before the sun (and, more importantly, before my wife and daughter) and spend 30 minutes in a mindfulness practice before starting my day. This practice was made up of 10 minutes of meditation, 10 minutes of discus fundamental movements, and 10 minutes of writing and reflection.

I had no expectations that this practice would change my life, I simply believed that my entire psyche would be better off for it. But as the days and weeks passed and I weaved together hours of practice, everything about how I was showing up changed. My energy, intention, emotions, and presence were being charged to new levels. As demands at work got exponentially greater and I moved into peak performance season preparing for Canadian National Championships and Rio Trials, I became more vibrant and radiant with each passing day.

In Ireland, in the absence of the waves where I often find refuge, I decided to double down on my meditation practice.

NOTHING WORTHWHILE COMES EASY

For the next 15 days in Ireland I made a religious effort to honour this practice. It meant stopping everything, finding a tall upright seated position and shifting all of my attention inwards. I ended up doing this in airports amidst 24-hour travel days, surrounded by the entire family, and during roadside pit stops. Whatever it took, I made it happen. Such a small devotion, but how quickly it became one of the highlights of my trip.

THE BIG TAKEAWAY

As the days passed, this is what I found in my practice:

1. Filling Myself Up

Meditation continues to gift me with an incredibly resilient mindset. Every day after completing my meditation I feel full, satisfied, whole and complete, as if I have accomplished the number one task of self nourishment for the day. I am able to easily flow, and show up with a huge capacity to be present and enjoy the day’s experiences. I am able to buffer inevitable daily stress and tension before it arises.

2. Going Deep

Journaling has been an outlet for uncovering insights, learnings and life lessons since I was 9-years-old. Through this meditative practice I’ve created space to intentionally and consistently write. I am amazed, excited and at times shocked with what comes from these writing sessions, from examining how I view the world to questioning parenting and leadership styles. When there is no filter I can let my mind wander and drift, and it’s incredibly enlightening.

3. Profound Insight

We have hundreds of thousands of conscious thoughts each day. The vast majority go unnoticed and aren’t retained by our conscious mind while our subconscious mind processes and distills these thoughts into valuable insights. The problem is that we never allow ourselves the space or time to let these thoughts bubble back up to our conscious thinking. Meditation unlocks this door. Countless times in the 15 days I spent in Ireland I was able to acknowledge learnings that floated effortlessly up from stress-amp’d thoughts of the previous days and weeks. While I continue to make an effort not to obsess over these thoughts in the meditation itself, the practice of writing directly afterwards allows me to capture the learning that seemingly came out of nowhere.

I returned home not having scored the Irish waves I’d been daydreaming about, but I had uncovered a new temple, a new practice that empowers me with deepend capacity, intentional presence, and a renewed perspective on learning. This was a new pillar in living my life to the fullest.

Tyrell Mara is at his best when chasing Big Hairy Audacious Goals. Currently, his sights are set on the 2020 Tokyo Olympics, throwing discus. Through his journey he finds passion in guiding others in chasing their own dreams and goals, of every shape and size. Follow him on Instagram and Facebook.

How shutting up can give you the space to grow.

by Jess Robson

I became a woman obsessed. I took a deep dive into the world of self development and I didn’t stop talking about it. I bought out the Self Help section at Canada’s largest bookstore. I journaled like a madwoman. I watched all the TED videos the website could offer, then re-watched them to make sure I didn’t miss any life changing morsels of insight.

It took a solid four years of digging, reading, and talking to realize all the ‘work’ I had been doing was falling flat. And once I removed myself from the spotlight of self discovery, the real learning happened faster than speed-cuber Collin Burns solved the Rubiks Cube.

THE SELF-TALK of SELF-DEVELOPMENT

Self-development OGs Alfred Adler and Carl Jung expanded the view of personal development into the world of psychology. Their contributions broke the boundaries of psychology from strictly analysis into considering the drive of the individual to achieve wholeness and balance of Self.

Given the self-focused nature of this kind of development, it’s a no-brainer that yes, the conversations and reflections are personal. It’s about exploring the Self; tuning into personal thoughts, feelings and emotions; learning why we do what we do; examining behaviours, discovering strengths and weaknesses, understanding and connecting with our highest potential.

Unsurprisingly, ‘I’-centric conversations are at the heart of the process. It takes time to get comfortable peeling back layers and exploring the deeper aspects of ourselves. Like any learning experience, this can bring up serious questions and curiosities, which, when expressed through conversation, can be a source of even deeper learning and discovery through hearing others share their stories and insight.

Inevitably, though, there comes a time when Elvis Presley couldn’t have been more right when he said, “A little less conversation, a little more action, please.”

WALKING THE WALK, STEP BY STEP

I took on the task of self-development like drinking out of a firehose, yet I’m guilty as heck for having a history of talking a big game and taking little (to no, at times) action. If I’m being honest, this is rooted in a fear of failure or an unwillingness to feel the discomfort when change is imminent. Also, I couldn’t keep up with the amount of learning I was putting myself through and quickly felt like I was drowning.

My talk sounded really great — I had the language of all the authors and other people sharing their stories and insights flying through my head — yet I lacked the application of these concepts.

When I put down the books and dialled back the rumination not only did I resurface into the social scene I had been missing, but I was able to put that talk to work. That step — getting out of the talk and into the walk — resulted in me eating some serious humble pie. And that’s when the real learning started to happen.

GO TO WORK

There are as many ways to elevate internal work as there are people looking for them. Here are three ways I discovered for making all the concepts and conversation around self-development real.

Put your moves where your mouth is.

Take action. Have the conversations you’re talking about having. Make the changes in your schedule you’ve realized you need. Set up solid personal boundaries around time for yourself. Commit to when work stops and the rest of your life starts. The things you’re realizing and learning about yourself require action to be fully expressed, so give them a chance to breathe

Get your community contribution on.

In the process of learning more about yourself, it’s likely that your passions and renewed purpose will emerge. Put those insights to good use, and give back to your community. Volunteer with an aligned organization, or bring a big idea to life and create a program, event, online community (you get the gist). Giving back puts your work to work, and deepens your growth.

Get out into the world.

Travel and geographical exploration — even close to home — offer the opportunity to take what you’re learning about yourself and put it to the ultimate test. Navigating different neighbourhoods, cultures, cuisines, transportation, languages, and currencies challenges the best of us and encourages a rapid unfolding of self-understanding.

In summary? Read the books. Try the courses. Take the steps towards discovery that work for you to see how you learn, what you like, and ultimately what sticks. Then, when you’re on your way and working on working on yourself, be honest about when to put the research on hold and actually go to work.

Jess Robson is an entrepreneur, artist, freelance writer, super-fan and retreat experience expert for Girlvana Yoga, and an ambassador for lululemon Robson in Vancouver. She’s also a self-proclaimed peanut butter addict with a pretty obnoxious sweet tooth. Follow her on Instagram.

You know, the one that lives in my head — and maybe yours, too.

by Danielle Mika Nagel

I get to Starbucks for my morning Americano and sigh while waiting in line. Why is everyone else up so early? My drive to work is filled with complaints about all the construction I have to deal with and the crazy drivers on the road. Why can’t people learn how to drive? When I finally get to work, I become annoyed with how loud everyone is. Do they really need to keep talking about their weekend? I’m in a meeting and am irritated when people don’t align with my point of view. I battle not to roll my eyes and, while I practice deep breathing, say to myself, “These people don’t understand yoga.”

Fifteen years ago, this is where my internal dialogue would remain, a constant stream of complaint and judgment and wondering why everyone else was so irritating; why they couldn’t just relax. If they could, then I could chill and life would be perfect.

After 15 years of practicing yoga — and I mean beyond the mat — unfortunately my internal dialogue still runs like the above (they say it’s a lifelong practice). At some point, though, how I deal with that dialogue took a turn. Today, once I get all my complaints out (usually just inside my head because it feels good to blame everyone else for a bit and embrace the victim), there’s a moment where I stop the bitching, observe my anger, and look within to ask, “What the eff is going on in me?”

I teach, “Your external world is a reflection of your internal world.” If I’m practicing what I’m preaching, I need to recognize that all the “bitches” out there are simply reflecting the bitch in here.

Ugh! So I need to do the work not them?! Exactly. This is the moment where my finger that was pointing towards the other “bitches” points back at me and says, “Clean up your shit.” Cleaning my shit up is a daily, moment-to-moment practice that is supported with a routine.

Below is a schedule I’ve fine-tuned for myself including what I eat to keep my bitch at bay. I don’t follow this exact routine daily since I’m human, but make a conscious effort to incorporate as much of it as possible in order to stay balanced.

5:30am — Wake up (without an alarm), drink a big glass of room temperature water with a squeeze of fresh lemon juice and meditate for 20 minutes.

6am ­– Go for a walk along the water with my husband after picking up a tall Americano at Starbucks. Practice yoga for one- to two-hours, preferably before work. Don’t check e-mails or social media until after this practice.

10am — Breakfast of homemade almond milk smoothie and oatmeal with nuts

1pm — Lunch. Best for my mind and digestion is a large salad with a portion of fish or avocado.

5:30pm — Meditate again for 20 minutes.

6pm — Dinner — basically the same as lunch, and sometimes with a Hefeweizen. (Just one, not two!)

7pm — Phone and computer shut off.

8pm — Bathe with the lights low and some bath salts and aromatherapy.

9pm — In bed to journal — mainly as another tool to let go of some thoughts prior to sleep — and to read a few pages of something not too stimulating. (Save 50 Shades of Grey or The 5th Wave for your holiday.)

10pm — Lights out.

When I’m following this routine, my internal dialogue shifts from complaint to compassion. When the bitch inside my head reels her big curly hair out again, I know I’ve deviated too far from the routine.

We will all have our unique ways of balancing ourselves. Some of us may need to eat more frequently or less frequently, substitute a run instead of the walk, or perhaps avoid caffeine and alcohol completely. Take time to discover the daily routine that supports having the best version of yourself show up, internally and externally. The next time you find your bitch coming out, which will most likely happen sometime (or many times today), stop, observe and look within.

Don’t have a regular meditation practice? Start now with Danielle’s One-Week Meditation Challenge.

Danielle Mika Nagel is the Mindfulness Manager at lululemon athletica, creating yoga and meditation programs for the company and collective. She is also a member of the teacher faculty for the Chopra Center of Wellbeing in Carlsbad, California. She teaches yoga, meditation, Ayurveda, and leads teacher trainings, and events internationally, and is a featured teacher for JIYO.com and MyYoga/Gaiam TV. She is originally from Los Angeles and now lives in Vancouver, BC, with her husband and two children.

Photo by Jordan Junck

How 17 strangers met, fished, and talked legacy.

by Seth Putnam

Here’s the experiment: 17 strangers; one mysterious lululemon invitation to a ranch in Wyoming; and equal parts fly-fishing, riding horses, running obstacle courses, and hiking mountains.

The setting for the excursion was Rawah Guest Ranch, a 100,000-acre playground with nonexistent cell service and semi-reliable lodge Wi-Fi. Beyond being a destination where city slickers face the realities of rugged Western life, the ranch also hosts an initiative for military veterans to get some much-needed R&R in the wilderness.

This group, most hailing from Chicago, arrived with almost no information about where they were going or what awaited them. They are musicians, restaurateurs, physical trainers, retail managers, writers, and more, and all share a personal outlook requiring an inherent, up-for-anything attitude and a willingness to tackle uncertainty. They’re thoughtful badasses in their fields, but these city dwellers were about to spend the next three days getting outside their comfort zones. The goal was to become beginners again, to feel the sensation of doing something for the first time, and of course to get plenty sweaty along the way.

But there was also a deeper assignment. Each night around the fire, they talked about the legacy they wanted to leave behind. Entrepreneur Luke Jensen explored the ripple effect an individual’s actions can have on an entire community’s heritage. “We are powerful people, and we resonate throughout the world,” he said.

Musician Sam Stephenson found himself performing a song: “I want to dance upon the ashes of my truth,” he sang.

And memoirist travel writer Jedidiah Jenkins regaled the group with tales of his bicycle ride from Oregon to Patagonia, including the time he got pinned between a drug cartel and the government in a Mexican surf town. He mused about how each of us constructs a worldview in our teens, deconstructs it in young adulthood, and then, hopefully, reconstructs the pieces to form a legacy. “Think about the thing you’re meant to bring,” he advised. “And then as soon as you’re off this mountain, get to the business of doing it rather than being seduced by the act of contemplation.”

In the morning, everyone dispersed to shoot, ride, and fish, and when they reassembled for dinner, they found the chef had crafted 17 personalized menus, each resembling the guests’ desired last meal on earth. Inside each name card: responses to the question of how they want to be remembered. Some pinpointed on parenthood. Others focused on character traits like sensibility and kindness. A few got specific about the ways they want to cause global change.

When it was all over, as they left each other at the airport, they reflected on the unexpected yield of the experiment: 17 strangers who aren’t so strange after all. Rather, 17 human forces poised to alter their worlds.

Seth Putnam is the editorial director and cofounder of The Collective Quarterly, an independent travel magazine created in Chicago. Seth writes on all things lifestyle and is a fan of ‘slow journalism.’ Follow his adventures on Instagram and Twitter.