Noodle tears, timing snafus, and a lesson on resilience.

Hangry isn’t even the right word to describe my emotional state as we exited a noodle bar without having a meal. I was a lot of things in that moment, but it was all underscored by the fact that I was not my best self. So how did we get there? I’d love to tell you.

My husband and I recently spent a few days in London (more on that another time), a city that is big enough and old enough to have more to do than time to do it. We had a few things scheduled and a few “must-do” activities in mind.

Wednesday was our busy day. We had tickets to an exhibit at the natural history museum to see the largest dinosaur ever discovered, lunch at a noodle place with rave reviews, a reservation for tea time at Harrod’s, and a loose plan to get arepas before heading to a bar for Trevor. We had a solid plan and plenty of time to get to everything.  

The museum was full of so many exciting things. A mammoth from Missouri! A gemstone the size of a bolillo! A first edition of The Origin of Species! A very, very large dinosaur! And people. Just so many people. In addition to trying to comprehend the sheer enormity of the exhibits, I was navigating through a mass of school groups and families. 

After three hours of walking through the museum and being jostled by backpacks, running kids, and people simply not looking for others, I felt unsettled. I should also note we were ten days into our trip and on our fifth hotel. That’s ten days out of my routine, out of my bed, and away from my pets. I was already unsettled. 

We made our way to the noodle bar, and our GPS misdirected us twice, which was annoying but fine. We finally sat down for lunch, which we knew needed to be quick so we could get back to our room and change for tea. Then we realized that our timing was off. Through timezone changes and Day Light Savings time, our reservation for tea was an hour earlier than we thought. And that broke me. 

Are noodles enough to make me cry on an average day? Absolutely not. But a little wrinkle can feel so much more significant when you already feel unsteady. Ultimately, and unsurprisingly, this reminded me of my conversations with my therapist and what I practice on my yoga mat. 

It’s also the thing I resis the most - strengthen from my core. The ability to turn inward to create stability can help you brace yourself for when the world around you feels wobbly. I couldn’t make a museum filled with a millenia of artifacts less crowded or make my head not at “dad wearing a backpack” height, but if making it to lunch and to tea was important to me I could have check our reservation times the night before.

Ultimately, when we feel unsteady it’s hard to be our best selves and relying on stability to come from the outside is a recipe for disaster. Learning to strengthen what we can and brace ourselves for shifts helps us navigate difficulties with more ease.

Let’s jam out about it.

A handy-dandy Spotify Playlist for your big feels.

What does it look like on my mat? 

Backbends can come from flexibility but stable heart opening postures really begin with a firm foundation. Strong legs and an engaged core change the posture. Practicing heart openers like camel pose ask us to strengthen into an open heart. 

What does it look like in the world? 

Using values to determine what is important to you can help guide your decision making and lead to better resilience. Taking time to notice moments of instability and considering how we can engage the tools we already have to create a sense of steadiness. 

We did go back to that noodle shop for dinner and it was absolutely worth the second trip.