Let it Roll

The Cinnamon Rolls of Human Kindness

Cinnamon rolls taught be about life and making resolutions. Image by Sofia Lyu on Unsplash.

Now that the busy holiday season is drifting into the background and you are returning to your regular eating and moving routines, you might be intent on keeping resolutions. Or not. The month of January can be full of promise for the year, and it can provide momentum for you. January can also feature a lot of hype and advice about making and keeping resolutions, and all that advice could just be too much. There is a dark side to making resolutions, because you can tap into a desire to change yourself that is so fierce that it almost feels like you are condemning the old or current you. Ouch.

Condemnation is never a good foundation for lasting change.

You could say I am disillusioned with making resolutions, but, truth be told, I make resolutions all the time. The month of January is not the only time of the year to make resolutions. It may seem that way, because a lot of people talk about it.

In reality, a resolution is simply a decision and an intention to carry out action, and you can have a resolution or an intention anytime.

As you may know, intention is the foundation of mind-body practice like Tai Chi and Qigong and any energy work like prayer and distance healing.

If you make resolutions, just be clear on your intentions, goals, and motivations. 

Ask yourself what is your motivation in pursuing those goals at all? Is it love? Or something else like pursuing power (like getting a competitive edge), vanity (like looking more beautiful), or learning something new … ?

The amazing thing is that there are so many possible reasons to transform, you want to be sure of your reason.

Resolutions can also be about giving something up. Renouncing the unsavory ways of the world is noble, and giving up anything must be accompanied by understanding what it is you have been getting from that thing you now feel you need to give up. Spiritual teacher and author, Michael Singer, recommends something simple (not easy!) to find out about your reasons and motivations: if you ever want to give up a habit or an activity, simply stop doing said habit or activity for a day or two and notice what happens as you start to crave it or start thinking of doing or having that thing or activity. This is basically a very gritty meditation practice of coming face-to-face with yourself and observing yourself in action (or inaction) in your real life and in the world. I tried this many years ago with cinnamon rolls.

My journey with cinnamon rolls

Years ago, there was a time when cinnamon rolls made me feel physically weak. The smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls at Ikea or at the nice café with outdoor seating near my apartment where I lived at the time made me want to buy a coffee and feast on a big roll. I felt compelled to stop and eat more times than I can count. Airports and train stations had this magic smell of the cinnamon roll experience waiting for me as well. At the time, I traveled to Rhinebeck, New York, often for training and work, and so I found myself having my coffee and rolls a lot. And life felt good every time I did that until I packed on the pounds and my clothes became tight.

My tight-fitting clothes were enough motivation for me to try hard to quit cinnamon rolls. I was teaching yoga at the time, and my leotard just became more and more embarrassing to wear in class. But what really helped me make peace with this yummy pastry was two things: allowing myself to say yes to rolls whenever I wanted, and carefully observing myself when I had rolls or said no to rolls.

So, because I granted myself permission to have cinnamon rolls anytime I wanted, I had to make it hard for myself to say yes to a cinnamon roll. My solution was to adopt a mental crutch in the form of a food rule: I could eat only cinnamon rolls that I baked myself.  So, yes, of course, I could have as many cinnamon rolls as I wanted if I made them myself. This provided relief and education: I then could observe myself and my life circumstances of when I would feel it was time to make cinnamon rolls. Making cinnamon rolls required at least five hours of planning and execution. The actions of buying yeast, flour, and sugar required a trip to the grocery store, and then making plans to clear my schedule to bake became the fuel of my self-knowledge. This took time and commitment, but it paid off. It was like a game of understanding what’s in cinnamon rolls (wow, a lot of butter and sugar), and truly being present to eat them. Months of gritty observation of my process led to the knowledge of what cinnamon rolls represented in my life, which was this: cinnamon rolls were a way to be kind to myself. More deeply, allowing myself to have the pastry was also about addressing feelings of deprivation that followed me since my childhood of growing up poor in a house with not a lot money and working hard teaching classes as a yoga teacher for not a lot of money at the time. After a good set of months, that smell of freshly baked bread coming out of the oven changed forever. The reaction and the emotions were more peaceful, and I did not feel weak. I learned to take better care of myself by managing my time better and eventually eating better. I then I resolved to keep finding ways to take care of myself that did not involve making or eating pastries. After months of doing this, I felt free.

This knowledge about self-care is very valuable, and I still apply it today. Advocating for skillful self-care is “baked” into my teaching of mind-body arts, because observing yourself skillfully is what you train when you do mind-body practice regularly.

You can do this practice anytime, not just at the start of a new year. But the enthusiasm of the new year is also benevolent. You can tap into the love and the life within yourself at a time like this, and ride that wave of resolution all around you. If you make it fun, you may ride that wave for however long feels right for you and learn about yourself.

Happy New Year!

-Josie

Blessings for the new year:

A lighthearted blessing from the Butterfly Sanctuary where I was last week.

A short meditative practice below that starts with a poem called “Wake Up and Gather” by Kit Kurtz that I rewrote to fit the Qigong imagery and movements. Enjoy!