I turned on our Christmas tree lights at 6am this morning.

I drank a large glass of water.

Turned the kettle on so I could make some coffee.

Snuggled with my border collies, and then let them out to potty.

When the kettle whistled I was ready to grind some beans, drink some hot black coffee, and snuggle back up on the couch with my dogs and stare at our lovely tree, and all of the ornaments I love so much.

This is my perfect morning, why fuck with it. Why make resolutions to fix something that is not broken? This brings me peace, it makes me feel content, and it reminds me this is exactly where I need to be, here and now. My dogs are not complaining, my kids are happily snoozing away, and the coziness of our simple home feels like a nest.

When I want change or change is thrust upon me, it is not dependent on a time of year, a date, or a tradition of sorts. Change in my life happens all throughout the year. When I enact change it is because I need to learn something new, be challenged, step into the role of student, or be nurtured in a new way. When the world throws change at me, I will be the first to admit that I don’t handle it gracefully, and I usually go down kicking and screaming. But I always learn something, either something I hope I never have to live through again, or gratitude for what I learned but was initially resistant too.

LIFE.

And as we all know, life happens whether we will it to or not, 24/7 365, until we are dead. So why not make life matter throughout the year, and learn every month, and dig deeper into what makes us curious about something, and laugh a bit more or cry a lot because we honestly feel it, not because we made a resolution to feel it.

This past month, my assistant Jackie sent me a message that I should try ‘hot yoga’. I kind of laughed it off. But it stuck with me, the idea of something so far outside my comfort zone, what would I learn about myself. Anything warmer than 70 degrees repels me, there is a reason I loved working at the South Pole and thrive in Montana winters. I didn’t know if I could do it or even wanted to, but it kept popping up in my mind, what if?

So my daughter and I signed up to go. The instructors, a mother and daughter Team were so incredibly nice and welcoming. When we went into the beautiful studio, I laid down on my mat because that is what everyone else did. I am a coach and trainer, but in this environment a student in every way. And then we began, a rhythm of communal movement, a cadence that was both challenging and relaxing, and because I was so distracted by the amount of sweat coming out of my body, I didn’t realize how difficult it was for me. I’m serious, sweat like I don’t think I have ever sweat before, and I was in such awe of this that it was over before I knew it and we were in our final resting position, the shavasana.

And I started to cry, uncontrollable tears. And if your going to cry in public, this is the place to do it, because you cannot differentiate tears from sweat at this point. So I took note of the tears and the feeling of why. Why was I crying? And it was an overwhelming sense of change, needing change, needing to shake my life up from the inside out. And I also think I was spent. Eighty minutes in one hundred and five degrees is a bit exhausting in and of itself, and then adding deep stretching yoga movement on top of that, well, perhaps the tears were justified?

Every class is started with a talk on making your own personal intentions with no judgement. You create your own foundation from which to grow. This all came at the right time, int he right moment, and I was apparently looking for it in the most unknowing way. But because I am open to learning new things all of the time, and not waiting until the end of the year, my life remains full with curiosity, adventure, and challenges. I’m going to stay with ‘hot yoga’ for awhile. Emotionally, mentally, and physically I am drawn to this change. It isn’t easy for me, it is a challenge, but there is a newness inside of me that I am looking forward to developing.

So make you life about curiosity all year long, every day, every month, all year. With love, Nancy