Afraid of Failed Resolutions?

January 1, 2016January 1, 2016 / Erin Kirk / 4 Comments

Do you have a big goal for 2016? Are you shoring yourself up today, with solemn vows, threats and motivational thinking, so you don’t quit by February?

Me too. Here’s a thought for today.

amateurs

The War of Art by Steven Pressfield was one of the best books I read in 2015. In it, he says the enemy of our progress is not the size of our goals but the “Resistance” we face in our daily attempts.

Yes, exactly! That’s what I do when I quit running or writing or practicing my French. It’s not even a conscious decision, it’s just that life seeps in the cracks, expanding and contracting until my resolve crumbles like busted up asphalt.

That’s resistance and life’s not going to stop doing that. The professional shows up and hunkers down anyway, while the amateur sighs and rings in February.

I don’t suppose it matters much what you’re trying to do in 2016 – lose 20, get out of debt, write a book, make your marriage better – the victory exists in the daily showing up, deciding to go pro.

pres4

But the professional is not dumb either, so rather than set a bunch of lofty goals I’m bound to fail at, I’ve crafted a few small ones, which, if I attend to them daily, should add up to something interesting in 2016.

Here they are:

Small and quotidian, without arbitrary quantities, (Science says that helps), each of them is something I enjoy, so if I will simply roll out my mat and get on it, or sit and my desk, I’m bound to stay longer than I planned. Over time, that adds up to interesting.

Pressfield who’s also written several heady books on Ancient Greece, says the question is not, did I write with genius today but rather, did I overcome Resistance? Did I sit down and try?

That is such a better question.

One more thought on the matter:

Do you ever wonder how King Solomon felt when his dad rolled out the plans for the Temple in Jerusalem and told him to build it?

Probably not, but I have.

“Uhhhh Dad?”

Here’s what David said to Solomon to encourage him, and it seems like a thought worthy of posting on the bathroom mirror this New Year’s Day.

stars6 Remember, our part is to show up daily and act!

How nice that He promises to help us along.

Not Everything. Just Something.

December 27, 2015December 27, 2015 / Erin Kirk / 3 Comments

Every night for the last few months, I’ve crawled into my king-sized bed, slipped under the covers and thought about wet Syrian children shivering on a rocky beach somewhere. Then I pray.

Lord Jesus, thank you for my warm, safe bed, but WTF?

Most people I know don’t pray like that, but I do because it is exactly what I mean, and I’d rather show up as my grateful, confused self with the bad filter, than try to tidy up for the Infinite Omniscient, who discerns my thoughts from afar anyway.

Like we’re capable of tricking the One who names the stars. Please.

The Pleiades

Worse, every time I try to write about it, I choke on the following question:

Why Lord, do some of us get trapped with our hungry families at a filthy, frozen border while others get king sized beds and yachts in Florida?

I can’t square it, and so for months I’ve been paralyzed into total radio silence.

Whatever can be said by those born on third base?

But in Madagascar this fall, after an evening spent with 150 orphaned and foster kids, one of my friends stood in our crowded, little room with her hands on her hips, staring at the floor.

“Erin, I’m not handling this very well,” she said, and burst into tears.

I figure her American self was trying to square it, but she never will and I told her that.

“The world is unfair and the best we can do, is what we just did,” I said. Don’t run. Get in and wrestle with it. Keep engaging it until it’s clear what part the Lord has given you to play and what resources you have to do it.

Not everything. Just something.

That is how WE change, and isn’t that ground zero for changing the world?

So I was thrilled last week, when five authors I read and love, Liz Gilbert, Glennon Melton, Rob Bell, Brene Brown and Cheryl Strayed, did something for the refugees flooding into Europe.

Each of them, using their considerable social media sway, asked their followers to give $25 or less to help volunteers on the ground in Europe buy blankets, shoes, shelter and food for the refugees.

They raised one million dollars in 31 hours – in $25 increments.

Pause and calmly consider that.

As a fundraising model, it’s wild because you couldn’t donate more than $25 – unless you logged in all over again. Therein lies the genius. Five unrelated people, who don’t work for NGO’s, used what they had in their hands – friendship and social media clout – to ask a lot of us to do a little bit. And who could be overwhelmed by such a tiny ask?

refugees

The fact is, this world is never going to square, ever, not until Jesus comes back, but rather than skulk away from that reality, feeling overwhelmed and guilty, why not stare it down; then take whatever’s in your hands and start shoveling uneven playing fields.

If the Compassion Collective’s story teaches us anything, it’s one person x 40,000 others can move an awful lot of dirt.

Be not overwhelmed friends! Happy New Year!

Need a place to dig? Here are five I love besides the Compassion Collective.

The Los Angeles Dream Center – L.A. California
Mercy Ministries – International
The Preemptive Love Coalition – Iraq
Mercy Ships – Currently – Madagascar
For the Silent – Tyler, Texas

Love Jesus and Yoga?

September 27, 2015September 27, 2015 / Erin Kirk / 9 Comments

Recently, a Jesus-following friend expressed deep concern about my yoga practice. She believes I am in grave danger and felt compelled to warn me.

Isn’t that an amazing kindness?

For some of you, living in busy urban areas where yoga studios and coffee shops are equal in number, that’s crazy talk, but I live in the Bible belt where a lot of people consider yoga demonic.

I don’t. Let’s talk about it.

I am hardly the first to weigh in. In fact, if you Google Can Christians … “do yoga” autocompletes fourth after drink, eat pork and get tattoos. Opinions vary, but one article said by practicing yoga you’re unconsciously offering worship to Hindu gods.

Wait, what? Unconscious worship?

Maybe I don’t understand the meaning of those words, but I think that phrase is an oxymoron at best, fear mongering at worst. So I had an imaginary conversation with the writer.

Anti-Yoga Writer – “I don’t believe yoga can be separated from Buddhism, Hinduism and/or the occult. I think you’re wandering around in idol worshipping territory.”

Me – “Do you meditate?”

AYW – “Yes. The Bible tells us to meditate on scripture.”

Me – “Did you know Hindus meditate too?”

AYW – “Of course, but I don’t meditate on Hindu texts.”

Me – “So when you meditate, you choose the object of your focus, and meditation is the vehicle?”

AYW – “Basically.”

Me – “Interesting.”

Survival is her focus right now. Photo: Robert Bejil

Yoga As Vehicle

A lot of yogis try to calm the fears of their Christian students by insisting yoga is nothing more than exercise, but that just isn’t true. We rob it of its power by promoting that. Oh oh. Yoga has power?

It does.

Yoga’s secret sauce lies in its ability to cultivate a calm, working relationship between our bodies and our minds. There is nothing in Western culture I know of that does that more efficiently than this 5,000 year-old Indian practice with its Hindu roots. Perhaps that’s why it is prescribed for sexual abuse survivors, traumatized refugee populations and soldiers with PTSD.

Done well, in good sequence, the poses demand a singular focus on breath and movement, which is why after a well-taught class you’ll be sweaty, breathing deeply, with a calm, quiet mind.

When was the last time you experienced those three things at once?

On Focus

I can spot the moment in my classes when people really start to focus.

Are they focusing on Buddha, Jesus, Hanuman, Shiva, nail polish on their toes? I have no idea. Their thoughts are their own, and how absurd would it be for me, a non-Hindu, to encourage some sort of Hindu observance? Asking them for long spines, soft hamstrings, quads on the edge, a level sacrum, and ujjayi breathing, while standing on one foot is plenty.

“Ok but what about the giant Buddha on the wall,” says anti-yoga writer.

I know people will disagree with me here, but I’m open to that.

Thought #1 I feel about Buddha or Shiva statues exactly as I do about pink flamingoes in your yard. You like them, but they are meaningless to me. I love to shop at Pier 1 and there are a thousand Buddhas in there. Should I avoid that store? Am I really that suggestible? Do people follow Jesus because they saw a cross once? Come now.

I think the average Pier 1 shopper, (certainly not all, but many) who buy Buddha statues, exhibit the same dedication to Buddhism they do to Christianity – observing the easy parts, and ignoring the hard ones. I know some committed Buddhists, and they are remarkably disciplined. Spiritual devotion will cost you deeply. Statues at Pier 1 will cost you $12.95.

This costs something. Photo: Ann Harkness

Thought #2 – My goal is to be so filled with the light and love of Jesus that you won’t see me anymore, you’ll only see him – certainly a lifelong and costly endeavor. Therefore, when I walk into a yoga studio, a medium security prison full of maximum security offenders, or down the street in Santa Cruz California, a town known for it’s tolerance of every possible spiritual practice, my aim is to be as light there as I am anywhere else. Same person. Different place.

So do I teach “Christian yoga?” No. I teach yoga. Square your hips, engage your locks, drop your tailbone and hold for five breaths. Modify if you like, but dismiss the voices saying you can’t. And if you can hold hanumanasana and smile – rock on!

Hanumanasana

The funny thing is, I work for a Christian NGO that sends me to Africa a couple times a year. Often, my yoga students, who may or may not be Christians, ask me about that, and I happily tell them about my job and my Jesus.

But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, 1Peter 3:15

These conversations happen under a big picture of a silent Buddha. I have nothing against Buddha, in fact, my childhood nickname is Booda, but I follow Jesus because I need God to tell me, in real time, when to open my mouth and when to shut it, and that he loves me.

Jesus does that regularly.

Who is she worshipping? Maybe no one. Maybe she’s just holding Warrior I.

There are countless out of shape, stressed out, pharma-dependent Christians, whom yoga could help, but I think many are afraid to show up in a random class in case someone is bowing to Shiva, which they sometimes do.

But millions of Indians bow to Shiva every day, does that mean you should never go to India? What a pity. The Taj Mahal is awesome. Devotion is an act of will, into which nobody can trick or force you. Use your holy discernment.