The bar might be too high…

Red light really doesn't work… if you don't use it.

My friend Therin is an aesthetician, but not the kind you're picturing. Lymph work. Muscle release. Herbal everything. Each tincture she uses, each mist she sprays, seems more intoxicating than the last. A weighted blanket. Music. I leave her table feeling like I've had a full body reset.

I was asking her about my red light lamp and she said, almost offhand: "Red light really doesn't work… if you don't use it." 

I laughed. And then I could not stop thinking about it.

It's true for just about everything: working out, relationship growth, nervous system practices, stretching, eating well, friendships. 

An empowering road map, sure. But most often the gap between where you are and where you want to be can feel enormous or just cause a freeze.  Our nervous system also clings to its current state which makes the workout, the sex, the morning routine feel hard to initiate.  Even when you know how good it feels on the other side.

This is why I've been playing with something I'm calling the on-ramp method. An on-ramp doesn't ask you to cross that gap in one leap. It asks you to incrementally merge in the direction you want to go, small enough that it doesn't feel like a threat. 

Small enough that it might even feel good.

Here's my “on-ramp” morning lately:

I get up a little earlier than usual. I sit in a deep squat with my back against the couch, headphones on (because silent discos changed me last year) and I listen to a prayer in a language I can't understand but can feel. Out of my head, into my body. That first minute is the same every morning. (Nervous systems love predictability.)

Then I lay down, headphones still on, and put a wireless red light lamp over my face. It turns off after twelve minutes (quick-ish, no cords!). It's warm. It feels like my nasal passageways are opening. Like something deeply beneficial is happening without much effort at all.

During this time I shift my attention to my breath. Slow and soft. Full, but not big. I imagine my breath touching every part of me from the inside out. The music is still playing in my ears.

What I keep noticing is that I don't dread it. I yearn for it.

Even with my kids sick. Even when my routine was slightly off. Even when I traveled to Nashville (I flew with the red light!). Even on the mornings where nothing feels clean or certain. I still do this.

13 minutes.

That's the on-ramp. My body chooses it. And because I did it, the next thing — the workout, getting the kids ready, showing up for the day — feels like a natural merge rather than a cold start.

Therin was right. It doesn't work if you don't do it. And I'll add: can it be small enough, easy enough, and pleasurable enough that you'd want to do it again?
 

I wonder…

Is there anything in your life that won't work unless you actually do it? 

Is there any way to pair it with something pleasurable? 

Is there a tiny step in that direction, without having to do the entire thing?

Little trick- once you start, you may be surprised how likely you will be to want to go further and possibly take on the full challenge. 

Every week in Juice, our movement and nervous system classes flow in waves. Small pleasurable pieces that build into full expression, heat, and movement, then back down into reception and integration. A well-designed on and off ramp, every time.

One participant told me she's watched the replay or shown up to the live class every single day since Juice launched on January 15th. Not one day missed. That's not willpower. That's a well-designed on-ramp.

So I'll leave you with this: what's one thing in your life that would feel better if the bar were just a little lower? Small enough to start. Pleasurable enough to return to.