Tag Archives: Class

In Class

In the mornings, I often work from my bedroom. Sometimes, I play podcasts or music in the background. I was listening to “In Class with Carr”, a conversation between Karen Hunter and Dr. Greg Carr. They were fawning (rightly so) over Stacey Abrams. They discussed her intelligence, her organizational skills, determination and her career as a romance novelist under the pseudonym Selena Montgomery.

Dr. Carr asked “Where does she find the time? Is it discipline?”

Karen Hunter then uttered this profound statement: “What I imagine is that Stacey Abrams tapped into her fullness.”

She noted there’s enough time if we don’t waste it. Some people walk around as if they are waiting for life to crack open. What she observed is what leaves most people awestruck: She steps into the world fully unafraid.

I won’t claim to know the innermost thoughts of Ms. Abrams but she operates as if she left fear stranded on the side of the road 8 states away on a cross-country trip. She does not wait for excellence to descend upon her. She rises to meet it.

We all know that if she can, we can. This “In Class” episode prompted me to search for more material for my upcoming workshop, map out ideas for a new opportunity and create my profile for the See Jane Write Collective rather than scrambling to complete it later.

It also prompted another thought. Tapping into our fullness is our calling.

It is our birthright.

It is our most sacred duty.

All I can ask of myself is to honor it.

Vision

During my minimizing tear yesterday, I found an old vision board from about 3-4 years ago. I took a quick picture of it so I could remember this younger version of myself’s vision for the future. There were no grand fundamental changes. It was full of pictures related to giving, writing, making a living writing, authors like Edwidge Danticat and Maya Angelou, Black women praying together, declarations of love, success and fitness inspiration like runners and Misty Copeland, fruits and vegetables and a small section dedicated to being individual, even if it means keeping it a little weird.

What really caught my eye was a picture of a woman with an afro, eyes closed, sunlight highlighting the peaceful expression on her face. The words on the top left corner: Get Lifted.

It brought me back to a over a month ago when I was in my bed, scribbling notes about how I wanted to describe my upcoming class at Life in 10 Minutes and what I wanted to call it. I knew listening to music and poetry had brought me joy, allowed me to escape for awhile and I wanted to write about it with others. It was my medicine for melancholy.

I thought it hit me out of nowhere: Get Lifted: Using Music and Poetry to Find Your Light.

But peering down at the vision board, seeing a brown-skinned woman, sunlight beaming across her face, framing her afro, the words “Get Lifted” boldly printed on the page, the “out of nowhere” part no longer rang true.

I am slowly becoming her. I was always her.

When I guide the class on December 6th, I will be embracing her, rising from the page and breathing into her future.

If you’d like to join me:

https://www.lifein10minutes.com/writing-classes/5f75fe8b2f8bbc914db4ab65

“Tuesday”

I am not going to pretend I feel normal. Tuesday has been going on for a few days. I purposely stayed away from current television and scrolling through social media to avoid hearing any election news. I watched Half and Half and Sex and the City so I could fool myself into believing it was 2004. Not that anything was perfect then but the country’s allegiance to the notion of white supremacy wasn’t so boldly proclaimed, at least not from the White House. I also didn’t have to wonder if I had a sticker supporting my candidate of choice on my bumper that there was a chance I could be boxed in by maniacs and screamed at by people claiming to be “Christians.”

Maybe there wore more people willing to wear the mask back then. Maybe I prefer the mask.

After avoiding incoming results, I went to bed but was only able to sleep for an hour. My restlessness continued until my wake up call for 5:00am Miracle Morning. I considered skipping but I am glad I didn’t.

We ended up listening to Amanda Maynard speak about mental wellness. She guided us through a powerful meditation but what really resonated with me was the group exercise. We were broken out randomly into groups. Each of us was tasked with stating our fear and then the rest of us were to suggest a solution to combat the fear.

One of the other women struggles with the same fear as I do: The fear of being seen. This may come as a surprise because I don’t have a problem with my work being seen. I separate Kristina from Kristina’s writing. I can press “Publish”, post a blog on a social media site or share my latest work or soon class with the people in my life. But constant networking? Going live? Though it’s not true, it feels inauthentic to me, as if I am pretending to be an outgoing bubbly person for the world.

As if I really believe all the world’s a stage. Since I truly want to be more engaged and have work coming I will be proud to share with the world, I need to be comfortable with being seen.

That whole breakout group revelation was before 6:00am. I logged out carrying hope with me and was finally able to sleep before starting work a couple hours later.

I am glad I got the little rest I did because it empowered me to be present for virtual self-care activities. My friend guided us through yoga class which eased the tension snaking up my back to my shoulders. I also facilitated a writing session with my co-workers I soon hope to repeat. We all showed up with our vulnerability and willingness to share of ourselves. I was honored and humbled to lead in this way.

I know “Tuesday” is far from over but I am leaning towards hope and acceptance. I am inspired to be ready to do my part, no matter the outcome, to be more of an empathetic leader and an agent for change in the world around me.

Wings

On the 69th day, I went to a small group physical training class and the “small group” ended up being me.

I appreciated the one-on-one attention. My first real attempt at pull-ups was valiant and the success was aided by a set of bands I stood on for support. Per my new usual, I left tired but proud of the work done.

Afterwards, I met a friend for my second workout –a walk in the park. She gifted me a lovely book of poetry for my birthday.

 

On the back of the book there was a quote that resonated deeply with me:

“Nobody warned you that the women whose feet you cut from running would give birth to daughters with wings.”

Many women like me come from silenced women, oppressed women or women who lived as if their feet were bound or cut because of what the world brainwashed them to claim as truth.

And they did give birth to women like me and many women like my dear friend who want to live out loud, feel the earth under their feet on multiple continents, hike, climb, start their own businesses, volunteer, work, raise money, take care of their families, write books and lead without apology.

Women like me who are scared to live without the recognition of their wings.

Walk

Day 68 of 75hard.

I had a 5:30am strength class. I struggled to elephant crawl on the AstroTurf, quaking breath and wobbly arms, but it got done. I drove home, jumped out of the car and took a walk.

The long kind of meditative walk that I won’t stop taking once this challenge is over next Friday.

My mind wanders and winds as much as my feet do on these walks. So much to observe. The lonely cats. The barefoot woman who runs out to start and warm up her car before scurrying back in. The trashmen in dayglow vests dragging receptacles across the dewey grass. The children with their hoodies up and heads down, buried in their phones.

I remind myself often to pray. Say thank you, Kristina. You were blessed to wake up today. Your husband woke up today. Your family is healthy. Pray they feel loved and safe and want for nothing.

I may listen to something. But no earphones. I let the sound ring out from the depths of my coat pocket. When I started these walks 68 days ago, I anticipated my fitness changing, growing but I didn’t anticipate the gratification.

I think it’s better that way. Finding it, falling into a practice rather than entering full of assumptions. That is where the authenticity can be found.

There’s More

I am home now. I feel my muscles vibrating and my heart still pumping several minutes after class is over. This Afterburn class is designed to destroy limits. All of the strength training classes I am taking are also designed for this purpose but tonight was something else… mountain climbers, push-ups, burpees, lunges, touchdown squats and something I had never heard of…Figure 8’s?

As I was winding a kettlebell through my legs, up back to my chest and back through my legs on the other side, there were many audible grunts. Another class member and I “competed” in pulling an infinity rope machine through 10 rounds at the end of the session. I thought I had nothing left when she asked us to do it. Did she not see my sweat and hear my heavy breath?

But when she called time, I pulled as if I had a shot in beating this very fit man next to me.

What’s occuring to me is that just when I think I have nothing left, just when I think I should be passed out on the gym floor, my will shows up.

There’s almost always more left.

The tank is only empty if I tell myself it is. If I set myself up with enough sleep, water, the proper food and vitamins, then it is possible.

I can give more of myself.

 

Devotion

Went to yoga today. Hot Vinyasa yoga. I worked to quiet my mind and devote this practice to myself. I prayed in my time. I thought about how loud and angry someone on our hotel floor was around 2:30am. I thought about the walk Hubby and I took straight from the highway to the track. I asked my body for forgiveness for not moving it consistently for so long. I asked my body for forgiveness for almost never stretching it. As I eased my feet up the wall of the studio, I became aware of  the inflexibility of my body and hoped after many months, the rigidity will be a distant memory.

As our guide (as she liked to be called) sprayed lavender water at our feet, my nostrils and my brain wakened, appreciative of the freshness and cleansing properties of the aroma.

She also shared a closing story with us to center our hearts and minds on gratitude. A story about a whale, freed from nets and traps by divers.

I held back tears.

Not sure why. But by the end of class, I knew I would be back.

Afterburn

I don’t have much to say except for the strength training class I took tonight lived up to its name. Burpees, swimmers, steps, dumbbells, TRX, kettle bells and the return of the foam roller. I didn’t feel as nervous for the second class and the instructor was just as positive and encouraging as the last one. I am actually starting to look forward to the next one on Friday morning.

I am exhausted but it is worth it. Last night before I went to bed, all I felt like doing was working on my short story and I scribbled furiously into my notebook, trying not to forget any details I needed to get down. Tonight, I foresee passing out, happy with no intention of writing but hopeful everything I am investing in my body today will manifest as energy and creativity on many more tomorrows.

First Day

Today was my first day of strength training class. My plan is to go 3-4 times a week in preparation for my first Sprint race. Even though I am not a complete novice to weight training, I never have regularly done it.

Before class, I had a serious case of nerves. I knew everything would be fine but I told Hubby I felt like a little kid on the first day of school. I jokingly asked him to drop me off at class and wave at me from the window.

When I arrived, a group of three was preparing for class. Everyone was obviously already familiar with one another but they were all welcoming. My nerves bubbled up again as they seemed ready to jump into the workout but the instructor had already assured me I would get some personal attention.

Her patience was real and as soon as I felt it, I calmed down and my focus narrowed to concentrating on learning the movements. I completed the class and afterwards we spent time with the foam roller which was a new experience for me. Painful but I definitely see the necessity.

I am hoping every teacher is as lovely as this one but if not, I am still willing to show up. My curiosity is driving the bus these days. It wants me to see if I turn into the kind of woman who loves weightlifting and will be able to scale walls, swing from bar to bar and hang a finisher’s medal around my neck.

Perfect Day

I just had a day I wish I could have once a week. I took a three-hour writing class entitled “Pens Up, Fears Down” taught by Sadeqa Johnson. A friend of mine also attended (a lovely surprise). After class, I was invited to a lunch by her that she already had planned with another close girlfriend of mine.

When the day began, it was a bit of a struggle to tear myself away from the bed. I strained  my left ankle jamming my foot into the sneaker but told myself it would be ok once I got going. Thankfully, I was right.

Recently at the tail end of my walks, I have shifted into a jog. I was being tender with my ankle so I rolled it around a bit and decided today I would continue this new tradition. I ended up jogging longer than I had since this began!

Even though I overestimated how much time I had to get ready before class, I still made it for all of the writing prompts. Before class, my hunch was Sadeqa’s style of teaching and the community of writers gathered would reignite my fire for writing fiction.

It took a couple of prompts but I finally started to tell the story that’s been a bit of an obsession for me lately. That story has been trying to find a place on the paper for a couple  months now but I have been avoiding it.

I think I found the start of a couple of short stories or a novella. I love when I make space for a story and it lets me know it has found its home when the pen hits the page.

The fact that I got to cap this writing experience off with a lunch with two of my beautiful writer friends was perfection. We should have taken a picture but I am pleased we were too absorbed in one another to break the spell of lovely, flowing conversation to do so.

I am in the middle of day 55 of 75hard (with water to drink, pages to read, a picture to take and a workout to complete) and day 9 of bloglikecrazy. Days like this wear me out in the best way.

I am back home. I will take a few minutes to lie down and reflect on this most perfect day.

Then I will get on with the rest of the work because I have to show up for Day 56 and Day 10 no matter how it shows up for me.