Back to breathing.

I digress. When I learned to affect my own breathing, when I learned to tune in and pay attention to breathing, things started to change for me.

I hadn’t heard of breath work or conscious breathing before I stumbled into yoga eight years ago. Breath to movement? Never heard of it. Then one day, I looked around and realized, I felt better. Not just on my mat or leaving a yoga class, but most of the time.

It took a while and a lot of cueing, but eventually, I learned to take a deep breath into my lungs, into my belly. I learned to feel my breath in my back and in my hips. I learned what a deep full breath felt like.

I mean, I was always breathing, being alive and all, I can’t help but breathe. I just wasn’t aware of it. I wasn’t aware of the power of slowing it down or it’s affect on my brain, body and nervous system.

I’m still amazed at how things have gradually shifted and improved because of this one awareness.

Breathing. Who would have thought?

In the beginning, I wished I had had this breathing magic much earlier in my life. I guess learning happens when it happens.. Better late than never, but what a difference this one tiny thing may have made when I was young.

That is why I wrote books about it, for the kid I used to be. For kids today. For teachers and parents because if we know kids, we easily see how stressful their lives can be.

As a child, I was a worrier. It seems like kids have even more on their plates then I ever did. Is there more to worry about? It seems like it. Between the news, media, pressures to do well in school and competitive sports, allergies, climate change a pandemic, yikes!..Parenting seems pretty intense as well.

Just trying to make friends in my new location is stressful. Life man, Thank goodness I have some simple, easy breathing methods to calm my mind. Of course I want everyone to have them too.

It’s important that I pay attention to the moments I spend in regulation so that when I fall out, I have ideas.

Morning and evening walks have been amazing. The weather is beautiful, the beaches are charming. Pink skies. Little breezes to cool off balmy nights.

Walking, I find to be very regulating. Whether I’m alone or with friends or loved ones. Mornings, afternoons or at sunset, walking can always help me to get into a good state or stay in one.

Even thinking back on good moments is helpful. Cutting flowers, stopping at farm stands, flea market finds, discovering a coffee shop, a new yoga studio, I have enjoyed exploring the whole area. I’ve been enjoying setting up my new work space, refinishing my table, arranging things. I’ve enjoyed swimming and all the little east coast beach alcoves.

Eating tasty wholesome foods. Fresh tomatoes sun warmed from the garden. Green beans and corn from a farm stand. A ham and cheese croissant from our new favorite coffee place. Even just a walk down to the dock to put my feet in the water.

I never knew I had so much control over my own state.

True, I’ve been enjoying the head space a good yoga class puts me in. I go visit my kids when I need a boost in spirits. I’ve been known to make tea and toast for myself when I’m in a low mood.

But I guess it just occurred to me that I had the power of my own intention to actually guide myself into a more comfortable regulated state. I thought it was random and subject to time and happenings. I actually felt a little guilty for taking a moment to comfort myself into regulation.

I’ve decided to let that idea go and all the silly guilt I didn’t need to feel with it!

I can’t say, for all my natural curiosity, that I always like learning new things. In fact, I might even say that I DON’T like being new to something that I really want to do well. Today I found myself at a yoga class that was different then anything I’ve ever done before. I was corrected repeatedly. For two straight hours. I couldn’t even fold a blanket correctly. At one point the whole class was trying to help. I think I went through every emotion listed in my book about breathing through feelings, and then some. Oh man. Blogging, setting up a website, navigating a new location, figuring out how to do life somewhere not my home, whew! Humbling and humiliating are not my ususal go to’s but I have stumbled through, and expect to continue to experience more of the same. I don’t love that nobody knows me. I mean, I can do yoga. I can do a lot of stuff actually, but that doesnt matter in the face of all that I dont know and can’t do.

What I need, is to stay open, keep my sence of humor, and relax into that ‘beginners mind’ you always hear about. Plus, I know I need to be extra nice to myself, breathe some kindness, understanding and extra patience in. Have a cool beverage, a good meal, some fun experiences here and there.

I need to stay on top of my inner regulation. Be vigilant.

I cant help thinking of all the kids back at school, learning new things every day, some against their will. Its hard to learn. Its good to. In the end it feels better to learn than not to, but initially, there might be some dysregulation for some kids. I salute all the teachers out there making classrooms safe, happy places for kiddos to learn new things. Some of us students look a little hopeless (blanket folding and all), but with time, we will get it. I remember learning to read late. I really hadnt mastered it until probably third or fourth grade (I probably havent mentioned my stuborn side), but when I got it, when reading became a voice in my head, when it stopped feeling like disiphering code, I became a vorocious reader. I love reading to this day. I’m going to keep trying to be a patient learner. Cheers to all the patient teachers who have taught me and are teaching me and are out there teaching others!

When I was a kid, I went to eight different schools. We moved from eastern Canada to west. Then back and forth from California a few times. I wonder if moving made me a bit of a homebody.

For someone without a current home, I dearly, truly, love all the trappings of home. Before I knew about dysregulation, I looked no further then my own bed for comfort. Tucked in with a good book, I could re-regulate myself fairly quickly. Sometimes I’d find comfort in my kitchen. I ground my own flour and baked bread or cookies or made a delicious meal, or even just toast and tea.

So how I wound up in Africa, and then Ireland, France and Rome in a single summer, is a little interesting.

That same summer I was back and forth from NY, here ( CT) and California. My best friend was in a cancer trial in NY (she needed a companion to stay with her there). My husband and I were remodeling a house near his parents and I was finishing up yoga training at home in California.

At my training, I met a friend who introduced me to the cofounder of @kidsforpeace , a nonprofit organization that was building a school in Kenya. She needed artists to paint murals so I signed up.

I didn’t even know how my early years of devouring my monthly National Geographic magizine had seeped into my bones. How my obsession with Born Free and love of other books about Africa would cause me such a visceral reaction. I had no idea how travel would change me.

I think it’s worth mentioning that, not one member of my family wanted me to go. Most were quite opposed actually. They weren’t up for me living in NYC either. Sweet to be cared and worried about, but I got myself there anyway.

I loved all of it. The town where the school was being built was tiny. I think the whole town hung out with us while we were there, particularly the children. Even the teenagers. I think they loved the art part the most. Several sat around me drawing while I painted. When I needed a ladder, someone MADE me one and the kids showed me how easy it was to go up and down. I had less than a week to plan, find paint and complete the mural. We didn’t know the size before we arrived so I didn’t have as much time as I would have liked. We had brought art supplies for the school, but there was such little time to demonstrate how to use them. Scissors we’re included and some of us thought since they hadn’t ever seen scissors before they were not a good idea. I had taught little American kiddos who couldn’t use scissors before, so I was sure they would be fine but I had to prove it. I sat down with a handful of boys and showed them once. All of them respectfully took a turn and of course had no problem. The director and I joked later that these were kids who used machetes, our school scissors would be fine.

When we were saying goodbye, I asked the teenagers what they might want from America if I could come back and bring them something. Everyone I asked said the same thing.

A book.

A BOOK?! Oh my heart. I mentioned that to our group on the way to our next location and many had heard this themselves. Right away we all started scheming ways to bring books to the children. Which we did when we went back the next year.

I will never forget those sweet respectful teenagers. They wanted me to have their drawings. Many of them were quite talented. The next year, I got to go back and teach both the teachers and the kids. I brought art books and they LOVED them.

Art can be a unifying force. I loved seeing that. The following year we brought a steel band along and watched how music (also art) unifies as well. We were a band of traveling artists and it was super fun for ALL of us, Kenyans and Americans alike. I have such fond memories, but what happened for me I think is that I saw myself differently. I didn’t HAVE to stay home, I learned, to feel calm and confident, I can take the Andie show on the road too.

With my growing tool kit of regulating tactics, I was good then, and I’m even better now. I like knowing that CPTSD is a thing, but it doesn’t have to get in the way of my life. Travel taught me that. That weird summer taught me that. Some things are nice to know.

It’s been a whirlwind of a month and I have been busy every day with things I don’t usually do.

Today is the day after Labor Day. A fitting time to get a routine started. I loved my life in California, I miss all my family and friends terribly. I also miss the rhythm of my days there. I miss my house. I miss having a place for everything and knowing what’s next. I miss my old routine!

I guess I will have to create a new one. It will include yoga and walking and work that I love. There will be art, new friends, and a new home. Some of these things I will need to be patient for, but some I can start today.

I remember my mother creating new routines after all of our moves growing up. We made some big ones as a family but my mother would establish order quickly and with efficiency. Supper would be made in make shift kitchens as she found what she needed while unpacking boxes. School lunches were made and we were off to school, returning to a more put together home. My mother loved routine and confidently worked to establish it. She taught me to bathe my babies at the same time every day because babies respond well to routine. She told me that bath time was the biggest happening in an infant’s day in the beginning so they would organize themselves around it. I’m pretty sure I did as well.

I hope to follow her example and find all of what I need to get myself on a schedule of sorts. I will be designing and curating the best life I can, one daily activity at a time.