Knowing What You Want

I’m reaching out to all the people pleasers. I am one of you. As a woman, middle child, and Pisces with Libra rising, on a scale of 1 to 10 I’m somewhere around a 13. (What do I want? Wait a minute, what are you asking?) But I’m working on this tendency, because while it may seem kind to consistently care take and accommodate others, without clear intention this behavior breeds resentment and frustration. Ultimately, it is unkind to yourself.

While it may be difficult to admit, I know from experience that it can feel scary to think about what you want. It requires you to stop looking to everyone else and instead undertake a close and sometimes uncomfortable examination of yourself.

What do I want? When I first intentionally asked myself this question, I didn’t even know how to begin to find my answers–and the fact that it seemed like such a simple question made me feel even worse. Yet how was I supposed to know what I wanted when I’d lived so much of my life according to what other people wanted for me or from me?

I struggled to identify what I wanted for a long time before I realized that I could take advantage of the deep listening skills that I’d been honing on my yoga mat. During yoga I practice detaching from the distracting thoughts in my mind by bringing my awareness to the sensations in my body. Have you ever had a yoga teacher ask you to feel into your feet or your hamstrings or your shoulder blades? This prompts you to direct your attention back to your body from whatever mind chatter you were caught up in. At first you may only be able to notice intense sensations in your body, like a stretching feeling in your hamstring or an ache in your knee joint. Over time, as you practice listening while you move through the postures, you develop an ability to discern more acute sensations, like subtle shifts in where the weight is in your feet or where you are holding tension in your face.

So how does this body awareness relate to knowing what you want? I believe that my body’s instinctive responses are a useful guide for making decisions. Our bodies constantly offer us feedback as we navigate the day; for example, you may experience a change in your breath rhythm, a slight increase in your heart rate, a clenching of your gut, or a relaxing of your jaw. This feedback is provided in real time, but we are usually too consumed with the mind chatter (planning, judging, remembering, criticizing, worrying, etc.) to notice it. When I need to make a decision about what I want, I can listen to my body’s response to the options I have and allow that natural feedback to inform my choice.

This is how it works. When I need to make a decision, I consider each of the options individually. I close my eyes and picture the first option. I briefly imagine that I’ve made that choice. Then I switch to observer mode. What is happening in my body? Am I feeling any sensations? Is there a churning in my gut? Am I holding my breath? Am I feeling at ease? I open my eyes and note what I felt. Next I close my eyes and repeat the process, this time picturing the second option. Again, I switch to observer mode and notice any sensations that occur in my body. Then I compare notes. What felt better in my body? It’s entirely possible that neither option created much of a response, but often I find that my decision becomes clear once I evaluate the simple feedback from my body.

I’ve repeated this process again and again, practicing it like any other new skill that I want to master. Now when I am asked for another favor or to change my plans for someone else, instead of falling into my old people-pleasing ways I can ask myself what I want. I can listen carefully. If I say yes, I know it is because it’s what I truly want and not because of some expectation, guilt, or need to be liked. That’s a meaningful change, and it’s ultimately a kindness to everyone.

Contain or Expand

At a recent yoga class my teacher was talking about her personal experience with aging, and during her monologue she said something that piqued my curiosity. The words aren’t exact, but it went something like this: We can let our experiences contain us or we can let our experiences expand us. As I left class that day, I immediately started to explore that statement within the context of my own life.

At times I have done each of these things, often without an awareness of why I chose that path. I have let my previous experiences define who I am and prevent me from challenging my perceptions of myself. And other times my life experiences have become opportunities to explore my ideas about myself and grow in unexpected ways.

For several months I had been thinking about my purpose in life and how to spend more time aligned with my passions. This deliberate examination of my inner world forced me to confront several Very Important questions, including whether or not my job was still a good fit for me. I loved my coworkers and our mission, but I was feeling stifled in my role and disconnected from the daily impact my company made in the community. After that yoga class I decided to consider this situation through the contain or expand lens, as an alternate way to frame my thinking.

Regardless of where I’ve worked, throughout my life I’ve held roles where I’m responsible for creating process to drive efficiency and improved results. I analyze data to identify hidden trends and problems, and then I provide meaningful guidance on how to address them. Because these activities add value to the business, managers quickly recognize my skill in this area. In fact, whenever I am asked about my strengths, I habitually respond with words that sound suspiciously like what former managers have told me at countless annual reviews. Without realizing it, I have been allowing my experience to contain me, limiting my beliefs about what I can do.

And yet, I’ve done some personal exploration that challenges those assumptions. Yes, I have a knack for analyzing systems and creating process, but I’m also good at a lot of things that don’t require such an intimate relationship with Microsoft Excel. Through yoga, self-study, and other pursuits, I’ve realized that I have a variety of strengths to offer, like being able to build authentic relationships or effectively communicate ideas to a broad audience. I also love teaching, writing, and working in collaborative groups, and while these activities are embedded in my personal life, they rarely happen at work. What if I expanded my idea of career based on these experiences?

I have more clarity and confidence in making a decision now: I can let my past work experience justify my narrow vision, or I can let my holistic experience push me to explore new possibilities. Instead of asking “What have I done before? Where do I know I’ll succeed?” the questions become “What do I want to do? What would be fun to try?”

It can be appealing to rest comfortably on what we think we know about ourselves. This is often our default. Yet if we don’t regularly examine our ideas about who we are and dig deep enough to identify our core truths, we can inadvertently create a mold from which it is difficult to break free.

When I reflect on my life, I see places where I’m still letting my experiences contain me, and that’s okay. Pushing myself in all directions at once isn’t necessary either. But by tackling the Very Important questions I face with this honest perspective, I know that I will consciously make more choices to expand my life–and with it my capacity for love and joy.