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.

Force versus joyful challenge

A little backstory

You know I started going to Orange Theory because I needed a serious kick in the ass when it came to my commitment/devotion to movement. I needed something outside my usual box. I needed an environment that helped me to do the thing, and Orange Theory covered all the bases.

If I signed up for a class and missed it, it cost me money, so I was always motivated to get out of bed and freaking go. When I got there, the music was fun and I didn’t need to think about anything because the coaches just tell you want to do. It was the perfect blend to keep me working harder than I had in a couple of years.

Let me emphasize this: I did need this to get me moving in the right direction.

And enter: Force

But one of my defaults is to push too hard. I have to watch for it, because it can happen so easily and so suddenly and I can justify it to the moon and back.

Eventually I was going to Orange Theory four times a week. On top of teaching a lot and doing other classes for my Yoga Teacher Training and playing tennis.

I was exhausted all of the time and “couldn’t figure out why.” ((hahahahaha))

I can be slow. ((even bigger laughter))

Eventually I figured it out. I cut my Orange Theory back to twice (and often once) a week. I almost quit altogether but I really do like the community there and have made some friends, and I figure in the winter, I’ll go more.

But that’s not the point of this post.

What’s wrong with force?

Isn’t force just big willpower? Lots of trying? It can be… I guess.

I think force comes into positive play when, for example, I’m deep in depression. If I can manage to force myself to do the things I do not want to do, well, it’s really a sign of hope, right? That kind of force shows that my willpower brain isn’t totally broken yet by the depression and that I am going to be able to drag my ass out of it (yet again).

But often force is just a sort of self inflicted violence.

When we work with force in our bodies, we’re definitely (most often) disconnected from our bodies. They’re a thing that we’re trying to change or contort. A lot of times, movement in this context is pure punishment.

This creates a toxic internal environment on the chemical level.

When we approach change from this kind of force, we’re stressing the nervous system, releasing cortisol, and keeping the body in a dysregulated state.

Change will not come in this state.

Your body is going to work against you, mistaking you for the enemy. Or not mistaking you… because when you’re treating yourself like this, you actually kinda are the enemy.

So what about joyful challenge?

The body knows the difference. Period. Your state of mind is different and so you’re more likely to create the joyful chemical stew in the brain that your body needs for healthy change.

If you approach your movement from a place of play and curiosity and experimentation, you are not working from punishment.

This is the state that regulates the nervous system. It’s from this state, that you’re clear on your motivations and they’re of the healthy variety.

When I’m working with force, my motivations are definitely aesthetic. That’s poison for me.

When I’m working from joy, my motivations are all about my mental health. That is my sweet spot. And most humans’, for that matter.

When we work from joy, compassion, and care, we’re not not challenging ourselves. It just is healthy challenge. It’s sustainable challenge.

The results

Since I’ve recalibrated my movement practices back to joyful and devoted, I already have noticed the kinds of changes I really need:

• I have more energy, of course. Because I’m not killing myself in the name of, again, aesthetics.

• I am getting stronger and more balanced by the day because I have more energy to work harder when I am working. I’m not just dragging myself through my practices and hoping for the end.

• I am happier. This is the big one. This is why I do the work I do — for myself and for others. It’s always been about mental health for me.

I’ve worked really hard to overcome disordered eating and body hatred from my youth but they can still pop up. It takes constant vigilance, and even then, it can be so easy to slip back into old habits.

We teach what we need. I learn that over and over and over.

A bit of radiance

Today I started teaching a fresh online session of morning quickie kundalini, and as I was preparing, it hit me that I wanted to share a tiny reading at the beginning of class.

Then I realized… whoa, I haven’t even wanted to pick a reading for so long, much less read it aloud in class, thanks to the darkness of utter disbelief in anything but the material world that has been plaguing me for the last few years. (I wrote about my sudden release from depression related atheism in the previous post.)

This felt like a big deal… yet another layer of change or another layer of becoming myself again.

And when I was explaining this at the beginning of class, the glee with which long term students reacted to my little announcement confirmed my feeling that we’d all been missing this.

If you’ve been in classes with me, you know I select these randomly by letting the book fall open or having someone yell out a page number.

So here’s the one I read this morning. It’s from this book, which is one of my favorites ever.

Radiance Sutra #61

Adorable one,

Sit or lie down, completely immobile,
Beholding the cloudless sky —
Or if there are clouds, the sky beyond.

As vastness envelops you,
The body vanishes,
Thoughts forget to come.
In this moment,
You are the nature of the great sky.

How YTT is awakening parts of me that I thought were just gone

Have I written about doing a Yoga Teacher Training here? I got an opportunity to do a sort of trade because the training is at the studio where I now teach Peony Somatic Dance and the owner very much believes in staff development.

And I knew when the opportunity came that it was the right thing for me, not even necessarily as a teacher but as a human. I needed something to help with the rut I was in.

I have, over my life, gone through many cycles of depression and a good number of those come along with a friend named atheism and a side buddy called cynicism. Not even just skepticism, which is okay in my book and healthy, but the toxic cousin cynicism which shuts down our capacities for awe and curiosity and wonder.

This last cycle, someone wise pointed out, really started with the death of Peony. At that point, something in me just froze.

And then the atheism just stuck around. I’ve never had it last over a year. This time, it was probably about 3 years.

So I started to think, Okay, this is it. This is me now and forward.

I dove into it like I do anything. I studied and read and thought and wrote.

Atheist eventually became an identity that I was even somewhat comfortable with.

Then I started this YTT. Months before, I had started with a really excellent therapist, and I was also finally back to journaling thanks to this app.

I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but I left a weekend of YTT (and I’m just over halfway through now) and I knew I had to start chanting again. Specifically to Ganesh. This chant.

Within days of starting that, I don’t know… a big old iceberg in the center of my being started to melt.

And out popped belief. ((ha))

It was that sudden. But not sudden at all, right? Since I had been carrying that iceberg around for almost 3 years.

And it’s melting faster by the day. Every few days, I get this butterfly feeling in the pit of me and I can tell there’s been another layer released, and with that, more emerging of the parts of me that I thought were just gone..

I thought that Ganesh and some tantric philosophy would be it. I assumed that would be enough.

But we are born into certain cultures and those cultures run in our very blood.

I found myself ordering some Thomas Merton. Then another. I just did it… didn’t stop to question it… followed the impulse that was definitely coming from a body level.

So I’m reading Merton outside in our wee backyard every morning with the birds.

I’m as stunned as maybe you are (or aren’t).

(I’m thinking a lot of us are in need of that Camus quote on my photo right there…)

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?

The reality of commitment and consistency and why most people give up

This photo is from about ten years ago (and my hair is dyed so no, I didn’t go silver that fast).

A lot has happened since I took that photo (I mean… I’m taking it from a mirror which tells you a lot has happened even just with phones… ha).

A lot has happened since I took that photo. That, my beautiful nutbags, is a huge understatement.

Even if we only look at the “pandemic years,” so much has happened.

Above it all, the thing that has stunned me the most and has had the biggest impact on this body and mind:

Deep depression like I thought I would never see again came back, and yet again, ate all of the things that are my healing.

Sure, I continued to teach movement but I wasn’t wholeheartedly engaged. I was mostly going through the motions, which you may or may not have noticed. My depression was obvious in general, but I think when I was teaching, you could almost believe I was okay.

But I wasn’t creating any new methods. I wasn’t reading about movement or watching videos or seeking new movement. Big red flag.

I wasn’t listening to my favorite music when I wasn’t teaching. Big red flag.

And biggest red flag ever: I was only dancing when I was teaching and that wasn’t a lot.

Re-enter commitment

I am not sure exactly when it happened, but at some point in the last year or so, that depression started to lift. I think it had a lot to do with returning to playing tennis.

Which makes sense. The first time I seriously kicked depression out the door was when I started to dance again at the age of 40.

It seems I need some sort of return — specifically (and totally unsurprisingly) — to something physical that I have loved in the past.

I got obsessed with tennis. OBSESSED.

And it broke something open inside of me: my body was relearning commitment.

And finally consistency

But tennis is only during the good weather. (Alas, it’s too expensive around here to belong to a club.)

So I waited for the season to start again and started pretty much from scratch at rebuilding my skills.

But my obsession with tennis eventually led to consistency.

I realized I needed to be doing something more tennis-like (as in INTENSE CARDIO and lots of fast twitch muscle stuff) during the bad weather months, which made me do something I did not want to do: join some sort of gym.

I did this thinking that I would quit once tennis season started because I was only doing it to stay ready for tennis, right?

But surprise! I found the thing that created the consistency on top of the commitment. I found the thing that I am willing to get up early for, that I am willing to push myself into discomfort for, that I will not stop now that it’s summer.

Finding Orange Theory was a literal life saver (if you understand how life threatening serious depression can be).

And not because of the Orange Theory workouts. Not at all.

Finding it was a lifesaver because it supports me to do the things that are my life saving medicines.

Not only am I already, I think, showing signs of being a better tennis player this summer than last (and we’ve only played a handful of times so far), but it’s impacting my dance. It’s given me my strong legs back and my balance and of course my stamina.

And it’s only going to get better.

But here’s what I really want to say to you:

Commitment and Consistency for the Win

It takes time.

I don’t think I’ll really start to see the depths of change I want to see for another few months, and I don’t think I’ll be back to the strength and agility I had in that photo for probably a year.

And this is where most humans fail: once they don’t see the change they want within a short period, they quit. And then they blame whatever they were doing but it’s really the lack of commitment and consistency.

This is a long game, folks. As in, for the rest of your life.

Settle into it. Give into it. It’s the only way.

Three more somatic techniques for nervous system regulation

(You can review the first three somatic techniques of spinning, jumping, and shaking.)

As I wrote about before, somatic healing techniques are embedded in a Peony Somatic Dance class from the first breath to the last bit of movement. We aren’t always doing them in a strict “here is this somatic move” way.

So for this series, I’m breaking them down and talking about the effectiveness of each.

Slow Walking

Slow walking comes directly out of my Butoh studies and practices, and I think it is one of the most important fundamentals in all of the methods of Peony Somatic Dance. There are so many variables that we can play with here. It’s really never-ending.

Out of the all of the practices, the widest range of humans declare this to be their favorite — from the kids I taught in residential schools to elder dancers and everyone in between.

Pushing

If you’re feeling frustrated in particular, there’s nothing quite like pushing. Approach the wall in all its metaphorical glory and imagine you truly can push it down or push through it.

Wrapping

If you are feeling overstimulated or having some issues with dissociation, wrapping is so freaking helpful. Like I say here, it’s more than just a weighted blanket or a good firm hug. And one of the best things about it, of course, is that you’re totally in control of pressure and tightness.

Three basic somatic techniques for nervous system regulation

In a Peony Somatic Dance class, as many of you know from direct experience, the “somatic” aspects are deeply embedded. They’re in the very foundations of the practice. You could say that somatic principles and theories are the very DNA of the work.

You could break down a Peony class into dozens upon dozens of somatic specific techniques, all meant to increase our capacity to hold the reality of our life internally and express that through the body externally.

But there are definitely some basic somatic “exercises” (for lack of a better word) that I include in a variety of ways in almost every class.

And really? We should be doing all three of these every day for even just a minute or so.

Spinning

First up, spinning. Which children are constantly doing. For the pure joy of it. When was the last time you twirled?

If your first response to me is to say that it makes you too dizzy, then you really need it.

You can start by simply walking around ever-tightening circles. You can then progress to super slow spinning and over time increase your speed.

Jumping

This one is always a favorite. And it has so many benefits that the two slides listing the benefits don’t even cover it all.

Again, you don’t have to be able to jump high, and at first, you don’t even have to totally leave the floor.

Shaking

We often combine the shaking with the jumping and together they are exponentially more beneficial in terms of their efficacy to release pent up anger, frustration, fear, and sadness. Add in some yelling and you’e got a potent prescription for freedom

I’ll be covering more and more of these “basics,” and please, feel free to snag the images and share and use them.

(And be sure to follow my Instagram. It’s where I put this stuff first.)