How You Do One Thing Is How You Do Everything

“Understanding of life begins with the understanding of patterns.”

~ Fritjof Capra

I've been getting back into running recently.

I love the satisfaction, the endorphin high, the peace as I run through the rice fields near my home.

One of my favourite things about running is how it helps me understand myself. Running is so often a hologram for how I approach life.

How you do one thing is how you do everything.

In Authentic Relating, we call this a hologram. Just as each piece of a hologram contains the whole image, so a pattern in one aspect of our lives tends to be the pattern we have in all aspects of our lives.

When we can start to see these patterns, we can start to practise something different. We create the opportunity for more choice.

Any embodied practice will do this - it's a fundamental part of how I coach clients.

This week, it was running for me.

This isn't the first time running has taught me something about life. My decision to run 1000 miles in 2018 certainly taught me a lot about setting goals.

As I said, I've been getting back into it recently. But with one major difference. I'm working with an auto-immune thyroid condition at the moment and it's really important I don't overly stress my body. That means keeping my heart rate down.

The idea of running slower than I could was so incredibly frustrating. Do less than I could?! Are you high?!

In true Vix-fashion, on my first heart-rate zone run, I realised that slower meant I had way more energy at the halfway point. So I ran further and found I could be satisfied with slower as long as it meant more.

Slowing down to enjoy these views is a pleasure.

There are two realisations I've had about how this reflects my approach to life.

The first was understanding somatically that slowing down could be helpful. Slowing down allowed me to go further and do more. My stamina improved. I could enjoy the view more. I could slow down and still feel good.

That feels important to me as an occasionally stressed-out overachiever. Slowing down can mean more, not less.

Who knew.

The second realisation was much less palatable.

I'm still operating this story that more means better.

That stuff about the view and feeling good were afterthoughts. I really struggled with the idea of my run not being as hard, and therefore as worthwhile, as it had been when I could run to my maximum every time.

I notice I feel shame admitting that. I'm judging myself for still having this old operating code buried in my psyche. Why haven't I fixed myself yet so I am a perfect, unflawed human being?

Naming that helps me welcome the part of myself that judges and criticises. It helps me welcome the part that does believe more means better. And it helps me come back to my Self, where I can have compassion for the patterns I'm seeing play out in me.

I'm reminded that these deeply-held beliefs never really go away. The neural pathways in my brain that equate more with better will always be there.

But that doesn't mean I have to let them rule me. I can learn that sometimes more isn't better, just as I'm learning that slowing down is not the death sentence to my productivity I once thought it was.

I'm going running again tomorrow. Maybe I'll run 4 miles. Maybe 3, maybe 5. Tomorrow, I choose to listen to my body rather than the story that more equals better or less means weak. Those stories can still play, like radio stations in my mind; I don't have to listen to them. I can tune in and notice my energy levels or how my right knee is feeling and decide what feels right for today.

And I can ask myself where else this would be useful in my life. Where else can I notice the stories without blindly assuming they're "true"? Where else can I listen more deeply to how my body feels to guide me? How can I practice something different so I have more choice?

Let me know how this resonates for you and if you have any questions.