The Jump

When I was younger, my Dad would take us to the jetty at Wallaroo (all country towns in Australia have double-double-letter names), and we would go fishing, eat pizza from the (unusually amazing) wood-oven place at the start of the jetty, and we would jetty jump.

 

For those of you not privy to an Australian beach-life upbringing, jetty jumping is when you jump off the jetty.

Said jetty is usually 6-10 feet above water level, but always feels like 20 feet.

 

I was not a truly adventurous kid. Despite what my male cousins put me through in many adventures in our Grandfather’s backyard, I was a wuss.

 

I am still a bit of a wuss.

 

That day, on the jetty, I kept running up to the edge, and not jumping off. I couldn’t. It was scary as hell! Persistently getting to the edge, and being unable to voluntarily launch myself off.

 

And then I did.

 

It was so fun! Amazing! Best feeling ever! Let’s do it again!

 

You seriously couldn’t get me to stop. My favourite memories of that summer were definitely jumping off the Wallaroo jetty. Even when my bikini top went MIA, sometimes the bottoms too – it was the most fun thing to do, ever.

 

Last week, I jumped off the jetty again.

 

I gave up solid, monthly income, to pursue my dream of having nothing to do, except teach yoga.

 

This is the adult version of the jetty jump.

 

How many times I went to the edge, almost ready, really thinking I was going to do it this time, but something physically not letting go. Not jumping.

 

And then the jump. Did I lose my bikini top? I’m sure I will, maybe the bottoms too. But is that going to stop me from diving deep, finding them again, putting them back on without anyone noticing, and climbing back up that jetty, only to feel the invigorating energy of jumping all over again? Nope.

 

I hope to jetty jump through the rest of my life. Finding the pure joy in letting go and trusting (without knowing) that the forces of nature will catch me.

 

So welcome to the ocean. If you find my top, please return it to me.

Why I needed a Yoga Meltdown

I had a yoga meltdown the other day.

 

I was on a yoga retreat, with my favourite teacher and one of my best friends, I was on the Amalfi coast, sea, sun, incredible food and amazing company, and I had a meltdown.

 

Long story short, it was one little comment that broke me; “you’re going to be a great teacher.”

 

I’ve tried to figure out why this comment affected me so much, and I’ve come up with several conclusions.

 

Conclusion 1:
I am a fraud. There is no way I’ll be able to teach a great class where everyone feels amazing and loves it and wants to come back again. The quality of teachers is too high in Berlin, and what the hell am I thinking?!

 

Conclusion 2:

Do I even want to teach? Since becoming certified, my own practice has significantly changed. I’m more analytical of what I’m doing, always trying to think of how I would instruct this myself. I love yoga because it gets me out of my head, and all of a sudden, I’m back in it again. I need a break from that thing!!

 

Conclusion 3:

I’m just scared. Scared to fail. Scared that no one will come to my classes. Scared that I’ll never be able to do a handstand and for some reason that makes me a fake. Fear has stopped me from doing a lot of things (aforementioned handstand being one of them), but also, fear gets into my head before I even get the chance to face the thing I’m scared of.

 

I had a yoga meltdown because of a combination of these things.

 

I’ve always wanted to teach yoga, but it has always been a safe dream, kept at a distance that I can say I’m aiming for, but never actually have to do. Now it’s a reality and it’s scaring the shit out of me. One of my favourite quotes comes from Jim Carrey(‘s dad?), and he said that you can fail at doing something you don’t love, so you might as well have a crack at doing something you do love. Roughly that. And it’s always stuck with me because it’s SO true! Why do we have this predetermined idea that the thing we really love doing can’t be career-worthy? Is it because those ‘dream-worthy’ jobs are always actor, singer, sports star? Those super hard-to-reach goals? People are reaching those goals all the time! And if they’re not quite there yet, I bet you they’re having a good time going for it.

 

I know we all have to make coin, and security is a really nice feeling, but is slumming it in an office a nice feeling? Does working for a board of loaded directors feel good? Look, maybe it does, and Go You if you’ve found a working environment that you love. You are living your dream and I envy you.

 

But if you feel like you’re failing at something you hate, maybe you should try working on something you love. You may also fail at that, but you’ll know you tried. You may succeed, and succeed tremendously, and oh my goodness what an incredible feeling that could be.

 

Watch this space.

Welcome

So Hi everyone!

Welcome!

 

This is the first of many blog posts to come, (every month actually), where you’ll get to read me rambling on about things I think I understand, but really don’t have a clue. Doesn’t that sound exciting!?

 

I promise to keep it real, (that’s the name of the game!) because I feel there is a HUGE lack of real-life yogis in the online community. (Minus Adriene who I love and worship). So expect to see me fall down and stuff up, a lot.

 

Yoga is on the list of my favourite things to do. The rest of that list looks like: drink wine, travel, hang out with my hairy ones (two dogs and one husband), watch live music, drink coffee, eat food, meet new people, avoid things that I don’t enjoy. I’ll try to keep this blog as yoga-focused as possible, but chances are good that some of the previously mentioned subjects will also come up.

 

I would love to hear your thoughts and feedback too, so feel free to drop me a line to say hi. I really hope to build up a community of Real Yogis that doesn’t purely consist of my mum. (Hi Mum).

 

Namastay Real.

 

Hanna.