My mindfulness journey

I was a sensitive, caring child.

My parents often share the story of a two-year old Rebecca watching Frosty the Snowman for the first time and weeping when Frosty melted. Most of the stories of my childhood centered around my sensitive nature.

I was 10 years old when I first experienced the death of someone close to me. I remember the moment I heard the news. It was evening. I was standing in the back room of our family home. I felt my eyes well up with tears and my jaw tighten. And I remember not wanting to let my emotions out. My feelings felt too big to hold.

So I started tidying the house. And as I shifted stacks of paper from one room to the next and straightened shoes in the entranceway, I felt my big, challenging emotions subside.

And in that moment, a lightbulb went off in my young mind. I'd discovered (what I believed was) this magical solution to my suffering. I learned that if I could keep busy, I didn't need to feel the pain when things got hard.

Lo and behold, the next 10 years of my family life ended up being pretty hard. And I leaned heavily into my magical remedy of keeping busy.

In my teens, I channeled my energy into competitive figure skating, getting good grades, multiple part-time jobs and an active social life.

Through university, I leaned even further into busyness. I would push myself to the point of exhaustion each week without even noticing how tired I felt… until I’d fall asleep at a party on Friday evening or have an out-of-the-blue emotional breakdown.

My commitment and work ethic were consistently praised. And I was racking up achievements. Based on outward appearances, my coping strategy was working marvellously.

When I was 25, I was a couple years into my career at a global consulting firm. I’d completed my MBA and CPA and was chasing an accelerated promotion to a Manager position (while training to run my first marathon). I was eager to impress the socks off of people.

But in the midst of this busy and relatively successful life I'd built, things would still slow down from time to time. In the slow moments, a general restlessness and deep sense of dissatisfaction would creep in. I noticed that the achievements were feeling like both an obsession and a distraction - my driving desires were to impress other people and to avoid stillness. I began questioning who I was becoming and what I even wanted out of life. I felt like I'd spent the past decade just going through the motions.

Around that point in my life, I experienced the sudden loss of a friend. I reflected on the times we laughed together and remembered her kind heart. Following her death, I heard the stories of the beautiful ways she had touched the lives of others. And I couldn't help but reflect on my own eventual death.

What would people say at my funeral?

I imagined my eulogy reading something like, "she worked really hard" and "she was really good at her job".

From that reflection came a massive realization: I didn't want that to be my story. And in that moment, a seed was planted that has since redirected me towards a life of deeper fulfilment and connection.

My introduction to mindfulness came in the form of hot yoga. That was my gateway. The sweatier and more challenging, the better. To be honest, I didn't even realize mindfulness was part of the package when I signed up.

Hot yoga was perfect for me. It met me where I was: I could feel that "burn" I loved chasing, but each time I practiced, I became more open to the benefits of the mindful elements.

I started taking some of the tools from my yoga classes off my mat. I'd slow my breathing while sitting in traffic or before bed. I’d tune into my body at various moments during my workdays. I became more aware of my thoughts and tendencies.

The practices I was learning allowed me to tolerate stillness. I gradually started to appreciate a slower pace. And in that slowing down, I was forced to sit with some hard truths and work through some really challenging emotions.

But I also began experiencing beauty, joy and connection on a deeper level. Sunsets started appearing more vibrant to me, I felt more gratitude for the many gifts in my life. I became SO MUCH more patient. That sensitive and caring part of me slowly resurfaced. I started feeling alive, for the first time in a long time.

And what I realized was that my busyness had not only been dulling my challenging emotions. It had been dulling my entire experience of life.

Needless to say, I fell in love with yoga, and that's what led me to become a teacher. Mindfulness practices have transformed every aspect of my life and I’m so grateful to be able to share them with others.

At times along my journey, I feared that my new mindful way of being couldn't coexist with my drive for high performance. I'd think, “You can't be content and striving for excellence at the same time, can you?” or, “Don't I need to keep chasing the burn if I want to see results?”

After years of practice and reflection, I've come to accept that adopting a more mindful, spacious life doesn't lead to complacency. Rather, it fuels sustained performance and deep fulfilment.

I've experienced this firsthand. I continue to thrive professionally and to pursue challenging goals. And I've grown into a respected and effective leader.

The big difference I feel is that I’m no longer running away from discomfort or chasing others’ praise. My ability to be present and enhanced self awareness have allowed me to gain clarity around what’s important to me. I use that clarity to focus my energy. I still set big goals and work hard, but I now pursue achievement in a way that feels more expansive and energizing. I put forth effort in ways that align with my unique gifts and sense of purpose. I'm more intentional. And somehow that makes everything feel lighter and easier.

My mindfulness journey is never ending. I continue discovering new layers and facets of my practice. At times, I still find stillness challenging and I still fall back on old tendencies. But I’m more acutely aware of how it feels when I’ve fallen out of alignment. And I’m grateful to have the tools to bring myself back.

If parts of this story resonate and you’d like support on your own personal journey towards living and leading with intention, please reach out. I would be honoured to support you.