The Craig Van Cast

Send me a message!

Meet Micahel, my teacher, friend and spiritual brother. We finally got a chance to chat about so many things that we love talking about, except we recorded it this time.

From meditation to the art of letting go, Vipassana courses and trauma healing hacks, Michael really has been around the block when it comes to doing the work to grow forward and heal.

Find him on Facebook and Instagram.

Meet Micahel, my teacher, friend and spiritual brother. We finally got a chance to chat about so many things that we love talking about, except we recorded it this time.

From meditation to the art of letting go, Vipassana courses and trauma healing hacks, Michael really has been around the block when it comes to doing the work to grow forward and heal.

Find him on Facebook and Instagram.

Send me a message!

I can tell you that when I think about getting old, I'm not scared of wrinkles or grey hair. What I am afraid of is becoming weak, disabled, losing my independence along with my grace and confidence.

At the heart of everything I hope to avoid as I age, is the loss of my movement ability. I'd prefer not to become more uncomfortable in my body, and able to do less of life over time.

However, most of us think that disability is a natural consequence of ageing, that losing function and fun are a part of the process. And not just a small amount, later on. But most of it, from the moment we turn 30. (And I mean most of it - we've even forgotten what we are capable of)

But I don't buy it. This miracle movement machine is the most resilient system we know. Due to its developmental nature, it can only become what it does.

A lifetime of poor movement is a more likely culprit to create a body with poor movement than ageing - that makes much more sense to me.

I've dealt with countless people that claim they have no idea where this injury or issue suddenly came from, and I have to bite my tongue before I ask,

"But sorry ma'am, your body looks like you haven't nurtured its movement for decades - what do you mean this came from nowhere?"

If we wish to maintain youthful movement, then we must exercise youthful movements. If we don't want to become rigid and flexed like a chair, then we must continuously unravel our sitting.

Movement is life, the loss of it, death. It has become common to excessively lose movement ability, but common is not normal.

I believe that we can keep our youth while we age. As much responsibility as we are willing to take for what we become is as much control as we claim over the outcome.

Let's acknowledge that we are crafting our future through every moment.

We are the sum of our actions.

I can tell you that when I think about getting old, I'm not scared of wrinkles or grey hair. What I am afraid of is becoming weak, disabled, losing my independence along with my grace and confidence.

At the heart of everything I hope to avoid as I age, is the loss of my movement ability. I'd prefer not to become more uncomfortable in my body, and able to do less of life over time.

However, most of us think that disability is a natural consequence of ageing, that losing function and fun are a part of the process. And not just a small amount, later on. But most of it, from the moment we turn 30. (And I mean most of it - we've even forgotten what we are capable of)

But I don't buy it. This miracle movement machine is the most resilient system we know. Due to its developmental nature, it can only become what it does.

A lifetime of poor movement is a more likely culprit to create a body with poor movement than ageing - that makes much more sense to me.

I've dealt with countless people that claim they have no idea where this injury or issue suddenly came from, and I have to bite my tongue before I ask,

"But sorry ma'am, your body looks like you haven't nurtured its movement for decades - what do you mean this came from nowhere?"

If we wish to maintain youthful movement, then we must exercise youthful movements. If we don't want to become rigid and flexed like a chair, then we must continuously unravel our sitting.

Movement is life, the loss of it, death. It has become common to excessively lose movement ability, but common is not normal.

I believe that we can keep our youth while we age. As much responsibility as we are willing to take for what we become is as much control as we claim over the outcome.

Let's acknowledge that we are crafting our future through every moment.

We are the sum of our actions.

Send me a message!

When we lie, we choose a story over reality. When we give our energy to the story instead of reality, then we become more invested in our mentality than reality. Where attention goes, energy flows.

Losing touch with reality is a definition of psychosis.

None of our actions is free of consequences - how we think now will shape how we think later. If we lie now, then it will be easier to lie later - plus we've invested more of ourselves into the mental story instead of reality. A feedback loop that can slowly imprison us.

When our stories' magnetic pulls become stronger, it gets more difficult to detach our awareness from their activity (our minds). However, a major goal of our meditation is to observe our minds more freely - lying is in opposition to that.

Lying stems from non-acceptance of what is. Non-acceptance breeds anxiety. Anxiety and psychosis are an uncomfortable cocktail. Lying, even small white lies, is one of a few ways that we give our power away to the default mode network of our automatic animal side.

The wisdom teachings have tried to guide us to reduce our suffering - this is why truthfulness has been important to all of them. Not because our behaviours are being judged, but because we harm ourselves so easily without knowing it.

Our actualisation depends on us honouring Don Miguel Ruiz's first agreement; Be Impeccable With Your Word. Or, slip further into the psychosis of mental stories.

When we lie, we choose a story over reality. When we give our energy to the story instead of reality, then we become more invested in our mentality than reality. Where attention goes, energy flows.

Losing touch with reality is a definition of psychosis.

None of our actions is free of consequences - how we think now will shape how we think later. If we lie now, then it will be easier to lie later - plus we've invested more of ourselves into the mental story instead of reality. A feedback loop that can slowly imprison us.

When our stories' magnetic pulls become stronger, it gets more difficult to detach our awareness from their activity (our minds). However, a major goal of our meditation is to observe our minds more freely - lying is in opposition to that.

Lying stems from non-acceptance of what is. Non-acceptance breeds anxiety. Anxiety and psychosis are an uncomfortable cocktail. Lying, even small white lies, is one of a few ways that we give our power away to the default mode network of our automatic animal side.

The wisdom teachings have tried to guide us to reduce our suffering - this is why truthfulness has been important to all of them. Not because our behaviours are being judged, but because we harm ourselves so easily without knowing it.

Our actualisation depends on us honouring Don Miguel Ruiz's first agreement; Be Impeccable With Your Word. Or, slip further into the psychosis of mental stories.

Send me a message!

🌐 Website: craigvan.com

🪑 Course: unsityourback.com

📕 Book: https://www.amazon.com/UnSit-Your-Ultimate-Guide-Sitting-ebook/dp/B096QYSM4Z

You have to learn to walk before you can run.

You have to learn to crawl before walking. And you won't stand up before you can sit. We develop our abilities in compounding layers, and it happens in order because more complex skills are composed of simpler ones.

Meditation is no different. But it's deceptive because it seems so simple. How can we not have what it takes to just sit there and do nothing? That seems like the opposite of needing the skill to do something.

We face a new problem. We have layers of habits, busyness, addictions, anxiety, restlessness and tension that lie between us and the simple act of doing nothing.**

Compulsive movement in our bodies is the physical expression of the restlessness in our minds. Fortunately, the inverse is true and we can use it.

Our mind is a product of our brain, and our brain's primary purpose is movement. If we remove the movement then we can relax our brain and start to quiet our mind.

Practising the art of sitting still, holding one precise posture, for longer and longer. That's all. No twitching, changing positions, scratching, swallowing or facial expressions. Take it deeper, release the precursor to movement too; tension in your muscles and breathing. Absolute stillness. Each movement, however minuscule, is an opportunity to dissolve compulsion.

On a chair or the floor, it doesn't matter. But upright and with a neutral spine is useful.

It's tough, and just like exercise, we need to do a lot to get any good. Every single day is the only way - even if it's for five minutes.

Practice relaxing your body before you expect calmness in your mind. Shifting my focus from my mind to my body is so helpful - I have something tangible to work with, and my expectations become realistic.

You have to sit still before you meditate.

But don't worry you don't have to wait for the benefits because every moment of stillness is healing.

🌐 Website: craigvan.com

🪑 Course: unsityourback.com

📕 Book: https://www.amazon.com/UnSit-Your-Ultimate-Guide-Sitting-ebook/dp/B096QYSM4Z

You have to learn to walk before you can run.

You have to learn to crawl before walking. And you won't stand up before you can sit. We develop our abilities in compounding layers, and it happens in order because more complex skills are composed of simpler ones.

Meditation is no different. But it's deceptive because it seems so simple. How can we not have what it takes to just sit there and do nothing? That seems like the opposite of needing the skill to do something.

We face a new problem. We have layers of habits, busyness, addictions, anxiety, restlessness and tension that lie between us and the simple act of doing nothing.**

Compulsive movement in our bodies is the physical expression of the restlessness in our minds. Fortunately, the inverse is true and we can use it.

Our mind is a product of our brain, and our brain's primary purpose is movement. If we remove the movement then we can relax our brain and start to quiet our mind.

Practising the art of sitting still, holding one precise posture, for longer and longer. That's all. No twitching, changing positions, scratching, swallowing or facial expressions. Take it deeper, release the precursor to movement too; tension in your muscles and breathing. Absolute stillness. Each movement, however minuscule, is an opportunity to dissolve compulsion.

On a chair or the floor, it doesn't matter. But upright and with a neutral spine is useful.

It's tough, and just like exercise, we need to do a lot to get any good. Every single day is the only way - even if it's for five minutes.

Practice relaxing your body before you expect calmness in your mind. Shifting my focus from my mind to my body is so helpful - I have something tangible to work with, and my expectations become realistic.

You have to sit still before you meditate.

But don't worry you don't have to wait for the benefits because every moment of stillness is healing.

Send me a message!

I shared previously, in my post on the ambiguity around dieting, that it is not wise to copy someone else's way of eating (diet) for anything more than seeking ideas or experimenting. We are unique snowflakes, and our personal needs are constantly changing - those are what we need to meet, not a set of rules. A few principles that I have used, and which have helped me navigate nutrition far more easily are below.

To meet our ever changing needs, the only way that I can see is to become sensitive to the body's cues - physical and mental. I monitor everything with self-awareness

I pay close attention to the effects food has on my moods, energy and inspiration - these are the first places I feel dips. I have realised that when I drink coffee, I mask the mood and energy changes from my food so I can only judge my foods impact when I'm not having coffee. Some of these signs only show up a day or two later, like a delayed hangover, so to tell where each signal is coming from required me to cut out a lot to reduce the noise and then reintroduce and monitor (elimination diet). Then, my stools, skin and fat composition are great markers too.

I avoid inflammatory foods: processed, dairy, refined sugar, gluten, alcohol, caffeine.

I chase healing foods with high nutritional density (more nutrients per calorie) and anti-oxidative potential. To achieve this, my diet is by far mostly plants, and well-sourced eggs. I try and eat as many different colours and types (leafy, tuber, nut, seed, legume etc.). If I eat any meat (once a month at the moment), it's well-sourced (organic and local).

I introduce change frequently, in the forms of fasting (intermittent & prolonged) and cutting out specific groups for a period of time - like going vegan for a few weeks. Once a month I do 1-3 days of liquid only - smoothly blended soups and smoothies, organic veg juices and water. This has been found to have an anti-inflammatory effect on the gut, and my energy shoots through the roof when I do it. Plus my skin and fat composition improve noticeably too. I also spend a few weeks at a time focusing on a different macronutrient profile, low carb most often.

I have a mixed relationship with the concept of balance when it comes to food - because I do not choose a balance of health and disease.

I shared previously, in my post on the ambiguity around dieting, that it is not wise to copy someone else's way of eating (diet) for anything more than seeking ideas or experimenting. We are unique snowflakes, and our personal needs are constantly changing - those are what we need to meet, not a set of rules. A few principles that I have used, and which have helped me navigate nutrition far more easily are below.

To meet our ever changing needs, the only way that I can see is to become sensitive to the body's cues - physical and mental. I monitor everything with self-awareness

I pay close attention to the effects food has on my moods, energy and inspiration - these are the first places I feel dips. I have realised that when I drink coffee, I mask the mood and energy changes from my food so I can only judge my foods impact when I'm not having coffee. Some of these signs only show up a day or two later, like a delayed hangover, so to tell where each signal is coming from required me to cut out a lot to reduce the noise and then reintroduce and monitor (elimination diet). Then, my stools, skin and fat composition are great markers too.

I avoid inflammatory foods: processed, dairy, refined sugar, gluten, alcohol, caffeine.

I chase healing foods with high nutritional density (more nutrients per calorie) and anti-oxidative potential. To achieve this, my diet is by far mostly plants, and well-sourced eggs. I try and eat as many different colours and types (leafy, tuber, nut, seed, legume etc.). If I eat any meat (once a month at the moment), it's well-sourced (organic and local).

I introduce change frequently, in the forms of fasting (intermittent & prolonged) and cutting out specific groups for a period of time - like going vegan for a few weeks. Once a month I do 1-3 days of liquid only - smoothly blended soups and smoothies, organic veg juices and water. This has been found to have an anti-inflammatory effect on the gut, and my energy shoots through the roof when I do it. Plus my skin and fat composition improve noticeably too. I also spend a few weeks at a time focusing on a different macronutrient profile, low carb most often.

I have a mixed relationship with the concept of balance when it comes to food - because I do not choose a balance of health and disease.