Rebel Yoga

One dumb thing? Pfff. Over the course of my small little life i’ve most certainly believed in more dumb things than i’ve believed in the smart things that were true. i’ve believed in valuing myself through other people, i believed that I had to Go To Grad School, i believed in only eating breakfast during peak breakfast hours and i believed that my yoga clothing and regular clothing needed to be washed separately (LIES). i believed that if i took a day off from my rigid running schedule i would lose my edge. i believed if someone who i though was cool, easy-going, smart, and generally likeable didn’t like me… they must be seeing something real that i didn’t know i was putting out there (read: they must be right…).

i could write paragraphs, entire BOOKS on all the stupid shit i thought was Truth. and if its true that we run our lives according to our beliefs, than i’ve lived and died by some outrageous stupidity. but of all the things i can think of, of all the jack-assery and downright foolhardy nonsense i’ve believed, it was that Life Isn’t Supposed To Be Fun.

i mean, how many times did my parents (god, EVERYONE’S parents) say that to me, growing up as a kid? usually, it was in response to: “But I don’t WANT to clean up my room! That’s definitely not fun.” to which i’d get a: “Life isn’t always Fun! Go clean your room!” Or some approximation of that very conversation. most often, as i grew up, it was a response to something being difficult, boring, or uncomfortable.

Yeah, well, life isn’t always fun, kid.

if i had a job i hated, if i had a problem that seemed unsolvable or i was being forced to do something i really disliked, someone was usually telling me the above. it was by way of saying Get Over It or Grow Up. and as i did (grow up i mean), it started to get ingrained in my head that by proxy, Being Grown Up meant Life Isn’t Fun Anymore. when i looked at the adults i knew, this seemed to be validated by the fact the majority of folks around me on the train, or in line at the grocery store, or walking on the street looked miserable as all hell. everyone complained about their partner, their job, their bills, the weather, commuting on the Long Island Rail Road, the weekend not being long enough… I mean, if it could be complained about, it seemed a dour adult was bitchin’ about it. not many adults seemed… happy. and thusly, i started to also believe that Growing Up Sucked and Being An Adult Means Being At Peace With Being Unhappy And Just Accepting It. And Then Complaining Until You Die.

now listen… i’m all for hard work. and life definitely isn’t all fun and games. but Life is also a lot of things… frenetic, crazy, fortunate, est belle, terribly saddening, unfathomably inspiring… and a whole thesaurus worth of descriptive adjectives. and yes, being an adult means that very often, you have to do things you’d very much prefer to not do, such as pay those three parking tickets (OM SHANTI METER MAID), or wait six hours for cablevision, or wear stockings at Passover. things that as a kid, you could dutifully say “Not It!” to, and run in the other direction. becoming an adult means you get to Own all that shit. and Own it hard. and when you don’t? its your ass on the line, no one else.

but that was also one of the Great Revelations of my life: as an adult, you Own it. you own your life. you are your life’s author. and if your life is bad enough that you’re complaining about every single thing in it, than you better Own it way better. Clean up your room? Clean up your Life.

and as i became firmly situated in the adult world (read: as i tricked people into actually believing i was a Real Adult) i realized that if life wasn’t fun, it was fairly pointless. i used to think that because, deep down in the pit of my guts i believed Life was could be Fun, i obviously wasn’t a Real Adult. i must be doing it wrong.

but the older i get, and the more self-study and introspectatin’ i do, the more i see that being a Real Adult means taking ownership of your whole life, and doing the things that are really supremely difficult. what could be more difficult than really Owning your life, taking a good hard look at yourself and finding a way to issue a cease and desist to yourself on complaining: either change the things you don’t like, or find a way to change your mind about them. what’s more adult than that?

although regardless of all that… being an adult is actually ridiculously fun and amazing: like the day it slowly dawned on me…I can eat ….breakfast ….ANY TIME I WANT? awesome.

Want to Answer the Burning Question? go to Danielle LaPorte.com and get your daily dose. believe me, she’s a kicker. and would someone who eat granola sometimes for three meals a day lie to you? definitely not.