A formula for your experiment of one

A little preface to my main point

It seems right to share a photo from the time I wrote the words below

Since 2016 (and we all know what I’m referring to) it has felt like time makes no sense, the world gets darker and darker, and overall, our mental health has just been on a trajectory that, well, we’d prefer were different. Maybe I’m not speaking for you, but most people in my circles feel like they are somehow less than a version of themselves that existed pre-2016.

I am less in my fit dancer body, that’s for sure. I’m less joyful and less giggley. And my god, I really do believe this timeline has aged us faster than we would have otherwise.

And on top of all of that, I actually feel less smart. Maybe it’s all the stupidity and ignorance and cruelty that has permeated our culture and it’s bound to somehow affect each and every one of us whether we are those things or not.

But when I look back at my pre-2016 memories, I sure do seem smarter. I seem more joyful even when I was going through something difficult… I could see that there was some sort of meaning to be extracted, some sort of growth I could get from it.

So when I share this, it might even make part of you mad, but I would suggest that’s the part of you (and me) that has been so deeply traumatized over the last … oh my god ALMOST DECADE living with these monsters among us.

I wrote this formula from so many years of my own experimentation, and the beauty of it is that it’s a framework but you fill in the deets.

A formula for your experiment of one

There is no one path to health after chronic developmental trauma, from which so many unconsciously suffer. But there ARE some very basic building blocks that we KNOW help and that constitute a pretty damn good formula as far as formulas go.

First, movement. Period. You have to move every day. This is essential for basic human vitality but for someone attempting to recover their brain it becomes fundamental. We have excellent science behind what movement does for the brain, and there is, literally, nothing like it. It's imperative that you find movement that you ENJOY. Anything less will not last and will not have the results. And? Healthy movement leads to HEALTHY rest, which most people do not get. They get too much rest and it's of the not-restful variety so then they think they need more. Nope. MOVE.

Second, nutrition. Because movement every day must be supported by your nutrition. But your brain also responds to what you put in your body (duh, right? but not so much in the mainstream medical community). Play with your diet. Go in with no assumptions. See what makes you feel ALIVE and full of energy. Don't let anyone tell you to eat in any way that does not support those outcomes. Don't let anyone guilt you into any other way of eating that does not match your needs.

Third, aside from nutrition, WATER. Most people I know are dehydrated and there are some physicians who are starting to (oh, the radical!) notice that dementia is not about aging but about dehydration plus...guess what? Decreased movement.

Fourth, and this is something a lot of people don't think about: Spirituality, which is another word for Deep Connection. Find a connection to something bigger than you, bigger than the trauma, because trauma creates disconnect and makes us feel like we are special in a bad way. We're not.

Yep. That's a formula. If you did all those things EVERY DAY with intention, I guarantee (yes, I said that) that your brain and then your life would change.

Back to the present

All these years later, this really does hold. And please pay attention to my wording. I was super careful back then about how I said these things and it matters to this day.

When early chronic dieting has broken your eating intuition

Intuitive eating is great if you can actually feel when you’re hungry and feel when you’ve had enough. But those mechanisms aren’t always that clear cut or working for a wide variety of reasons, not the least of which is that we’re all different. Our brains are all different. Our reactions to food are all different.

And our eating backgrounds are all different.

If you were a girl growing up in the 1980s, you were likely constantly being put on diets. And that very much damages your relationship to food and your body.

Even when I was a size zero I was not small enough.

Only when I started to dance again in my 40s did my relationship to food and body finally become neutral, which I think is actually the healthiest relationship you can have to those things.

But over the last few years, as depression has eaten away at my healthy mindsets, it has also brought up old patterns around food and body.

And because I can’t simply intuit about food, I end up eating things that do not feel good in my body and I end up eating too much — to the point of discomfort.

Something had to change. Body and mind are one and I know from experience that to get my body back to more comfortable and more active is to then heal my mind.

So I’ve started to track my food again because of that lack of intuition.

And whoa… it’s freaking surprising.

First, I don’t ever think of myself as an emotional eater. As a matter of fact, if I’m super stressed I don’t eat.

But… I am a bored eater. I am a depressed eater.

I am constantly thinking about what food I could be putting into my mouth.

Second, the amount of food that I thought was necessary to make me feel full was way off. I knew this, as I said, because I was uncomfortable, but the amount I needed to feel full and comfortable was a lot different than I anticipated.

(I’m using this macro counter and a food scale. TO BE CLEAR: NOT to deprive myself but to recalibrate my understanding of food.)

So this is part of my journey right now. And if you need to talk about it, you can always email me or ask to be added to my group on Facebook.

And if you need to move more, I start a new 4 week session of Stim Yoga and Peony Somatic Dance online classes next week.

Listening to music from our youth is not just nostalgia

Me, at about 16. And yes, I’m singing as I dance… I always have.

A few weeks ago, I was having an extra rough stretch of days. It might have been soon after the election so it was more like a couple of months ago. I taught my local class and then got in the car to drive home. I put on a random Spotify list from the 1980s and the song that popped up was Notorious by Duran Duran.

You might not know, but likely do, that I was a major Duranie all through high school and beyond. At this point, I’ve seen them four times, including twice in the last two years with Craig.

Their Notorious tour was the first time I saw them. I would have been 17/18 years old and my mother took me to Blossom in Ohio to see them (one of the places I just saw them with Craig, actually… time is funny, isn’t it?).

Anyway, as soon as that song started in the car, I felt a physical change in my body. And over the first bit of the song, my mind shifted and my heart opened. And I realized that I suddenly felt… really powerful.

That is the only word for it… powerful. REALLY powerful. That kind of youthful “I can do anything in this world” powerful.

It felt amazing. So over the next couple of weeks, whenever I got in the car, I put that song on and it kept working. It helped me to recover my sense of myself.

A lot of people see us as stuck if we listen to music from our youth. And you know me… I am constantly learning new music. I know what’s happening in the music world… always.

But there’s more to the music of our youth than just nostalgia.

About 14 years ago, I came across a study from 1979 called Counterclockwise, and I’ve talked about this study a lot over the years. A group of older men were brought to a house that only had things from their 20s. And they only listened to music from that time. Over the week, they regained what they thought was lost-forever mobility and their memories got sharper.

Now there are people working to replicate that study. You can look here. (I haven’t dug into all of the links yet, but I will be and I encourage you to.)

And recently there was a big cover article for National Geographic about how much aging really is just a cultural story. Hmmm… who has been yelling that for the last 15 years!?!? (That article is behind a paywall but I intend to get it. If anyone has access, read it and let me know what you think.)

Here’s the thing: there are big time benefits to tapping into the music of our youth on the regular.

And as you’ve heard me say countless times, there are HUGE benefits to moving to music we don’t know.

It’s a both/and thing. They each have benefits.

So here’s my question for you: what music makes you feel amazing? Or brings back a younger version of you?

Movement play inspiration for your new year

I would like to say happy new year but I’m writing this on January 6th and I’m just not feeling it. I’m assuming most (if not all) of you reading this are on the same page.

I also just taught at the residential recovery center and spent that time talking to someone about their fears about what’s coming. Wherever I go, people are anxious and worried. January feels like we’re collectively holding our breath until the 20th and the few days after. But then I think we’ve all been doing that to some degree since the night of the election.

Here’s hoping that the guardrails hold…

Regardless we need to keep moving forward, and focusing our energy on the things we can actually control becomes more important than ever.

Taking care of ourselves and filling ourselves with joyful energy is crucial if we are ever to build the kind of world that I know we all want — one of inclusivity, compassion, and real love… the kind of love that values every being as worthy.

With that in mind, I come to my main new year’s intention: to get back my sense of passion and playfulness with my own dance/movement practices, rather than only feeling that way when I’m teaching.

I’m starting slowly with about ten minutes at noon every day. I got a fun disco light just for this. I turn that on and put on a list of 80s dance music. I don’t “try” to “do” or experiment or create. Just dance. That’s it. Let it flow.

Next week, I’ll be building more aspects of my practice.

And in preparation for all of this, I’ve created a playlist of inspiration on YouTube that you also can access by hitting the upper right corner where it says 1/16 on the video below or click here. There’s only one of my own videos on this list and then other things that you can skip around in for ideas.

I’ll add to this list whenever I come across anything that fits that bill.

Let me know if you have any videos you think belong on it.

Brains, Memories, Energy, and Menopause

My 40s were absolutely fab. And there are a bunch of reasons that many of us are not having great 50s, including the orange clown entering our lives in 2016 and then the pandemic and more of that circus recently. But apart from all of that, from what I’ve gathered from older women, the 50s can definitely be a rollercoaster ride.

This is your reminder that if you follow me on Facebook and/or Instagram you’ll be getting new, weekly, free experiments.

On average, it’s when full menopause starts. And I say starts because that one year mark is just the beginning. Like our teenage puberty, menopause is really years long. Things take time to settle.

I’ve been noticing energy and brain changes, but what’s really been getting to me is the pit-of-my-stomach, visceral (different than ever before) understanding that I will not, for one example, ever smell my nana’s house again. It really punches me in the gut when I think about it.

I’m not someone who has been living in de-lu-lu land about such things but my 50s have brought them into my consciousness at a new level.

It turns out there’s plenty of reasons for this.

Thank God for the wisdom of Katy Bowman, right? I was lucky enough to meet her and take a workshop with her about basic biomechanics years ago, and I feel like she will always be one of those scientists who brings us gold mined from her own life experience.

As she has been in perimenopause, then, she’s, of course, been figuring shit out.

Like the very likely reason behind our brain fog and how much it’s really about us — in this toxic productivity culture — not listening to and sinking into these new bodies and minds that want to teach us new things. Like paring down. Like cutting back. Like freaking resting now that we are where we are.

Listen to or read the whole podcast here. Really. It’s worth your time. I’m still thinking about it and hoping Katy will write a freaking book.

New free weekly experiments

I can’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve written. Yoga Teacher Training has just made my summer so much busier and so much more tiring than I could have ever anticipated. As you read this, I will be days away from finishing! YAY!

New free stuff

In the meantime, I’m starting a new weekly share on my Facebook business page and Instagram. If you aren’t connected to me on either of those, maybe go do it so you don’t miss these. I won’t share them on my blog except every so often.

The weekly share will be around the idea of “experiment of one.”

And it will always be something really simple to play with. We want ease in these practices.

Also? We want to build a sense of devotion and not one of powering-through.

Here’s this week’s:

All week long, just notice your sitting habits. Whether at your desk, in front of the TV, in the car... wherever you sit, notice what you typically do.

Then take it another step: notice and change. See if you can find different ways of entering into your seat and different ways of sitting. Challenge yourself to be uncomfortable for a bit.

I would love to hear if you learn anything interesting!

A story about overcomplicating and underestimating...

On Wednesday I went to an Orange Theory class that they were calling "Everest."

Spoiler Alert: I did not take any kind of clue from that title.

This was the day that I said on Facebook that I had I hit some sort of wall at about the 50/55 minute mark of my morning class.

Now keep in mind: I had been to the previous two days’ classes at Orange Theory, had taken a hard yoga class, and had just come out of my first yoga teacher training weekend.

But I still thought... WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!?!?!? (You can chuckle.)

The Overcomplicating Part

I spent a good chunk of that early evening talking to Craig about it. We looked at my water intake (great! perfect!) and what I had been eating. We both got on our phones to try to figure this out. ((FFS))

Now two important things DID come up that I will be working on: Making sure I'm getting enough calories (without counting ... tricksy but doable) and watching my iron intake (I tend to be slightly anemic and can deal with it with food and B12 but I have to be AWARE).

Fastforward...

The underestimating part

CRAIG (who is definitely currently in better shape than me... I mean, he does the Beast on the Bay -- an obstacle 10 mile run -- with barely any training)... CRAIG took that same class that night while I was teaching locally.

And the next day after work, he said he was utterly exhausted and?

THAT IT WAS FROM THAT CLASS.

LIGHTBULB.

IT WAS A HARD FUCKING CLASS, CHRISTINE.

So yeah... I immediately had overcomplicated things -- instead of just understanding the class was freaking difficult -- and then I underestimated MYSELF by thinking there must be something "wrong" rather than just seeing it was a hard class and ANYONE would be tired.

So... you know... where are you doing crap like this to yourself?

Bodies change...

These two photos are about 9 years apart. The black and white photo is the older photo and the newer photo was taken in the studio where I teach here in Columbus, OH.

I’m 46 in the first one and 55 in the second. Though this has nothing to do with age.

It has to do with time passing, yes, but it has to do with life experiences over that time passing.

During that first photo, I was in the best fitness of my life, and I was on fire with ideas and passion and energy. I hadn’t met Craig; the pandemic hadn’t happened; so much hadn’t happened. And I was in a “flying high” sort of phase of my life. I felt completely healed of any and all mental health challenges. (Yes, I was a bit naive.)

Come to the second photo and those nine years between the two feel more like a few decades. And I’m betting that most of you reading this don’t just understand that but feel much the same about this chunk of time.

My point here is that our physical bodies end up reflecting the life we’ve lived through and our internal landscape. (Stick with me.)

It’s basic cause and effect.

There were dozens of reasons, but over those nine years, I slowly stopped moving as much. I slowly stopped engaging with life in the same joyful way.

It was so very slow… like a titration of making me and my life smaller and smaller. Again, there were a lot of external reasons for this, but those reasons then fed into old internal crap, and eventually the existential depression monster took hold and would not let go.

Until maybe a year ago. And I think it was almost harder this time through than previous times because I felt such a profound sense of loss this time. Before my depression had developed in micro-bits over decades and it felt like that was simply the water I swam in.

When I got healthy, I didn’t realize what healthy could be like. It was so new to me. To have that suddenly snatched away again felt like a cruel joke.

And so with that existential depression, my already diminishing movement practices got pretty much gobbled up. I got to the point where the only time I was moving was when I was teaching. And it was easy when I was teaching to not move in new ways because I was paying attention to others.

You can see the spiral here.

And it’s really the same for most humans. Except that we don’t look to see the connections.

We blame our bad back on our age and not on the fact that we stopped moving very much decades before.

We blame our bad relationship on the other person and not on the fact that we also disengaged and stopped trying.

We hate seeing cause and effect because it leads to responsibility.

Eventually, our bodies will change, and that change will reflect so many little choices along so many years and so many unexpressed and unprocessed griefs and traumas and so many experiences that are uncountable.

The point is to notice and to understand that bodies change is not just a negative statement.

Bodies change. When I took that new photo of myself, it kinda startled me that to make that shape was kinda... difficult. It took a bunch of tries. It was frustrating. I expected to just replicate it the first try and with ease because it’s my damn body.

But bodies change. And I had not really noticed. Even though that’s my work in this world.

Bodies change. And it's often because we've changed how we are in these bodies.

Bodies can change again.

So I'll be adding a LOT more floor play into my movement work. It was a huge part of my practice back then but it hasn't been as much lately so I can't be surprised that my body has changed in this particular way.

When I started to dance again at the age of 40, my body and mind both changed COMPLETELY in nine months. I’m gonna do that again. Starting right now.

Watch me.