Happy Stress Reduction Month (apparently alive since 1992. Who knew?)! 

Since stress can creep into our physical and emotional health, our relationships, and our very ability to take care of ourselves, it isn't something to be taken lightly. Lucky for us there are many ways to tend to it, big and small. The latter is this week's wellness tool.

But since awareness is such a powerful first step, take this stress assessment offered through the Mayo Clinic website to help gauge your level of stress. Not in the mood? No problem. See below for stress reduction in... 

One second: Inhale the scent of lavender, in the form of fresh flowers, oil, or spray (some like to spray on their pillows before bed).

One minute: Sit silently in a comfortable space, eyes closed. Breathe slowly through your belly while counting your breaths.

One hour: Clean your living space. Consider that this hour of cleaning will free up space for you to relax in more...well, relaxing ways.

One day: Check out these upcoming very low-cost "Peace of Mind" day-long meditation retreats! For those in recovery, Zen Center is offering a day-long retreat  at their Green Gulch location May 5th. 

So I've been telling anyone who will listen about Brené Brown's Ted Talks on vulnerability and shame. And every person who watches them comes back with a profound sense of something. Movement, perspective, inspiration, you name it. For me, the material just. makes. sense. and we can all relate. 

But these are only two talks within the vast world of TED (which, by the way, is an acronym for Technology, Education, Design - the three domains that were integrated in the original annual conference). TED talks feature people from numerous fields - from writers to teachers  to scientists to doctors - discussing recent work, ideas and innovations. The talks are meant to "stir your curiosity" and they do a good job.

As a Wellness Tool, I recommend tapping into the free and accessible TED archives, where there is something interesting and inspiring for everyone. 

And because sometimes having too many options makes us choose none, here are several categories of (potential) interest:

 "happiness," "self," "inspiring," "productivity"

Why not listen while you do chores are take a walk? I can personally attest to the fact that I no longer dread folding laundry ever since TED came into my life...

The fact that there are three entirely different popular songs entitled “Beautiful Disaster,” two called “Beautiful Mess,” and one “Beauty in the Breakdown” makes me think that pop culture is into the concept of capturing the power and beauty in moments of messy despair.

These are times we wouldn't necessarily want to relive, wouldn't speak of in a job interview, or think of as role model moments. But I have discovered that they are pivotal parts of life, as in something is different and better in the moments or phases after. Presenting to graduate students in the very same counseling program I attended a few days ago reminded me of one of my beautiful disasters, an honest, messy moment in Tulum, Mexico several years ago.

I had just finished graduate school, ending two of the most emotionally taxing years of my life. For those who don't know, a large part of graduate training in counseling/psychology involves thinking about, processing, and writing about your individual, family, and relationship experiences. For those of us who choose to do this full time in public institutions, this means sitting with clients very shortly after opening your first “How To Be A Counselor” book and starting your first of many personal reflections.

Now, being a human being, and arguably one who comfortably hangs out in my head, and even one who had several years of therapy under my belt, I, like most people who want to feel normal and okay more often than not, tried not to think about family dynamics on a regular basis, nor traumas, nor relationship issues. 

Graduate school got in the way of that. 

Conjuring up these subjects was an absolute requirement. From Group Work to Human Sexuality, every subject was subjected to personal scrutiny. And just to remove any semblance of subtlety from the experience, I, in true San Francisco form, lived in my parents' in-law during this two year trek. In any given week, it wouldn't be a stretch to delve into an old wound with my mother and then split an omelette the next morning.

When I wasn't in the swampland of reflection, I was sitting with clients, trying to plug skills from professors and books into human relationships. I had to listen to recordings of sessions and code my interventions, hear my own voice (which, all self-love aside, I don't even like the sound of in a voicemail), and critique my work. The self I walked in with was shoved aside for the self I was supposed to be becoming. Even when things were going well, it was difficult for me to feel like I was doing things right.

So there were two years of up to 14 hour days, three hour seminars followed by three hours more, lots of critical thinking, lots of critical thinking, plans to quit and run away, insights, family tension, tension in general, taxed relationships, new relationships, many hours in rooms full of many therapists-in-training, and a 50 page culminating paper. 

By the time I got to Mexico my shoulders had inched up a half a foot towards my ears.

Arriving midday, I stepped out of the cab into the moist air, feeling my curls swell on impact. I was escorted down a short path to my new "home." I put my luggage down, stood in the stillness of my room—a cabana just off the beach—inhaled this humid new place and felt so instantly, thankfully far away.

Human interaction during the first part of the trip was reserved solely for ordering food. I spent hours in silence watching my thoughts go by, observing my judgments and defenses trying to find a space at my table and giggling as I saw that there was no room for them. Alone and amused, I decided to start in on the daily yoga offerings.

I entered a spacious cabana, where 10 or so other people sat silently awaiting the start of class. The instructor flowed in, got right to it. We chanted Om, grounded our feet down, and started a never ending series of sun salutations. We opened our hearts, our crowns, our hips, our thighs.

It hurt.

Out poured the aching in my heart for the times I hadn't been able to give or receive love, and for the ache of others' hearts I had added to my own. Out came the tension in my head tied to war that was waged on my thinking brain, my executive function overload. Out came the pain of tightness, of trauma, that had locked its way into my body. And out came the shaky strength of the beams that had carried me forward despite myself. I wept openly with pain, and sweat out the toxicity of too much hurt and not enough self compassion.

90 rigorous minutes later it stopped.

We layed on our backs in Savasana—corpse pose—for 10 minutes, my entire body pulsing slower and slower. We were then instructed to keep our eyes closed while transitioning to a seated position to start alternate nostril breathing, a technique that was new to me. The instructor described where to place our hands, this finger on your third eye, these two covering one nostril, this one then covering the other.

I was confused, tears still sneaking out of my eyes, but present. My eyes trembled as I struggled to keep them closed and I noticed that amidst the heat and the heavy emotions my nose had started to run. I kept my eyes stretched across my wet face as I was being instructed. My body shook.

Sweat, tears, and snot commingled as my breath at-last found a steady rhythm. I was getting it. I hint of pride and relaxation passed through as we came to the end of the exercise. We were asked to bring our hands into prayer and bow. 

Namaste. 

I bowed low, flexible from the heat, sat back up and opened my eyes to see not the eyes of the instructor, nor the faces of my classmates, but the back of the room.

I looked for the familiar feelings of self-criticism and embarrassment, but they were nowhere to be found.

I had misunderstood, gone the wrong direction, done the exercise completely wrong. I had cried through the majority of the class. I was the craziest shade of red and soaking wet with sweat. And yet I felt lighter than I had in two years, my head held high. I had surrendered to my messy pain, and left the battle, gross and proud as could be.

Today's Wellness Tool comes on the heels of a couple very cerebral days. Lots of thinking, organizing, and typing. My brain hurts.

I notice this brain tax in students of all ages, and people for whom life has simply gotten fast and busy. When you're feeling like your head is getting a good squeeze it's a great time to take pause and excite your other senses:

1. Sight: Catch the sunset (or sunrise if you're an early bird) or any other gift of nature; Treat yourself to a museum (here's a guide to monthly free days for a variety of museums in San Francisco). 
2. Hearing: Dig up your favorite go-to music, the stuff that makes you happy every time you hear it. Or wander into your music store of choice and sample the new music (Amoeba is good for blasting good music throughout the store as you peruse, no purchase necessary)
3. Taste: Prepare or pick up a meal that has some elements of savory, sweet, salty, spicy, and sour. Eat slowly and notice each element. Asian cuisines are good for this one. If you've fallen into a repetitious rut with your eating, simply switch it up.
4. Smell: Inhale the scent of the aforementioned meal before eating it. Smell a baby's head. Smell the scent of an orange as you peel it, or literally stop and smell the roses. 
5. Touch: There are so many different ways, small and large, to excite this sense. Starting big, make sure you're getting the affection you want and need in your relationships; More simply, get your hands dirty in a garden; pet an animal; Go swimming; Hold a smooth stone in your palm and feel how it feels; Give yourself a head and neck massage. 

If you can answer the question, "Am I in my head too much"? with a firm "yes," know that your senses are the portal into your body.

This Saturday I'll be presenting at my Alma Mater on a subject near and dear to my heart: Self-Care for the Budding Therapist.

I can't think of a better way to advocate for others than to first build our own inner resources. 

Also on the roster are workshops about, Emotional, Spiritual, and Mental Health of Undocumented Students, Mindfulness and Acceptance Based Interventions, Working With Blind Youth, and much more. Quite the spectrum!

Something I've noticed across the years, both with long-term clients and within myself, is that once Spring arrives and daylight is more plentiful, we tend to get a surge of energy.

While this sounds like something to celebrate, it unfortunately doesn't always feel like an exciting burst, but instead shows up as anxiety or agitation. 

It's a gift to tune in to these patterns within ourselves (it's less off-putting when it's predictable!), but in the mean time here are a couple tried and true, common herbs that can help alleviate your anxious symptoms.* 

1. Kava is an herb native to the South Pacific. There is evidence that it is effective in the treatment of generalized anxiety and may be good for sleep issues as well. Read a good summary of its history, benefits, warnings, dosage information and more here. You can take Kava in the forms of tinctures, teas, capsules, or whole root.
2. Valerian Root is native to Europe, and while historically it's been used as an anxiety remedy, it is better know for it's ability to assist with sleep. Click here for the details. Valerian is available in tinctures, teas, liquid and powdered extracts (non-medical warning: it smells a bit funky)

*Always check with your doctor before adding herbs to your life! These herbs in particular should not be used if you have liver issues. Also, here are some very knowledgable local herb resources: Scarlet Sage Herb Company, The San Francisco Botanical Medicine Clinic and Information Center.