View through the fingers of trees

What story do you tell?

2011-09-25T05:59:00.000-07:00

In my yoga classes this past week I have been working with the theme of "changing your story". How often do we start the day with a story about the weather or how we feel in the morning, or we fret about an upcoming situation, so we start to tell a story about it before it even happens. When we do this, I believe we miss out on the surprises and the transformative moments.

Fear is a big motivating factor because when we are starting something new, we fear that we won't be good at it. So we say things like: I am not good at foreign languages. I am not good at music. I am not athletic. The teacher won't like me. I don't do handstands.

I like to teach a breathing exercise that includes different counts for inhales, exhales and pauses. I think it's the pause that's significant, as well as the setting of an intention before meditation. I recently saw the movie "Happy" during the Milwaukee Film Festival (loved it!), and apparently 50% of our predisposition to happiness is based on genetics, and 10% is based on life choices. 40% is based on intention! I am working/playing with the moment where we start to tell the story of how the yoga class (or any other situation) is going to be, for if we pause, we can become more aware when we are deciding what the experience will be like before it has actually happened. Of course there are those stories we tell ourselves after an event too. Mine tend to be about what other people are thinking about me, and although I have good instincts about people, I am usually wrong when I am one of the characters in the story I am telling!

We are these 2-legged stories walking around this earth - bearing stories of what was and what is yet to come - and yet we all share the same story. The story of what is. But we forget that story, so we meditate to remember and allow it to unfold. And yet it continues to unfold whether we are paying attention or not...

Once upon the time there was an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. “Such bad luck,” they said sympathetically.

“Maybe,” the farmer replied.

The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. “How wonderful,” the neighbors exclaimed.

“Maybe,” replied the old man.

The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune.

“Maybe,” answered the farmer.

The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son’s leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out.

“Maybe,” said the farmer.

(After I told this story in a yoga class, one of the students came up to me afterwards to suggest that I tell the story with a different ending. He thought it would be funny to end it with the farmer in bed with his wife, and she says she has a headache. He finally says "That's bad!" instead of "Maybe." I told the student I thought it was funny, but then I also found myself remarking that there is always something that triggers the labels of "good" and "bad". There are certain scenarios that we are conditioned to think of as being good or bad. So it takes practice to unlearn that reaction...)

Compared to what?

2011-09-22T04:30:00.000-07:00

(My son found a "smile" in a tree trunk when we were on vacation in Door County recently.)

So I have been thinking about how I will sometimes reject people before they have a chance to reject me. When I was on the running retreat, I considered the marathoners to be the fast group, like they were better somehow. When I saw a marathoner running near me, I thought there was something wrong with the picture at hand. The story in my head was: I just started to run 2 months ago; I have only done a 5K; the most I ever ran was 5 miles and that was when I was in my 20's and I got shin splints; and I don't hang out with marathoners. Why would a marathoner be interested in anything I might have to say about running...or anything else? Due to the nature of the retreat, I had to get over it and somehow just keep running no matter who was running near me.

How often have I had people tell me that I am intimidating because of how good I am at something or how easy I make something look or even how I look? I've had people tell me that they thought I was stuck up because I can be quiet and it takes me time to warm up to people. I would wonder how I could possibly seem confident to the point of being arrogant. Since coming home I have been thinking about how the message in my family was that while it is important to be "good" at what you set out to do, as well as to look good, you should not call attention to yourself and you should not feel good about yourself.

My Mom and one of my aunts are beautiful women who always doubted their looks because my grandfather had problems with strong women (and yet he raised four). I thought about the man I had lived with for 8 years. He told me that he wasn't jealous, and I believed him, even when he acted jealous. He told me I looked better in glasses...with my natural hair color...without make-up. Every time I would do something that made me feel good about myself, a fight would ensue. I would then hold my breath and take the verbal abuse. It took me years to understand that it wasn't about me; it had everything to do with how badly he felt about himself. How often do we have a hard time acknowledging the struggles and successes of others because we are comparing them to how we feel about ourselves?

This past weekend I was in the last part of a children's yoga teacher training, and I was struck by how often my fellow students would compare themselves to each other and to me as an excuse to criticize and second guess themselves. Women grow up comparing themselves to magazines and each other from early on, so we size each other up as soon as we meet one another. It's a hard habit to break, especially the internal comparing process. I was able to challenge my fellow students, who amazed me with their incredible gifts, in much the same way I was challenged on the running retreat. Funny how once we are confronted with a challenge, the challenge becomes ongoing, affording many opportunities for practice.

Running with the Mind of Meditation

2011-09-12T13:23:00.000-07:00

Over Labor Day weekend I went to the Shambala Mountain Center in Colorado. A friend of mine had just been to SMC this summer, and I was actually looking at yoga retreats when the retreat title "Running with the Mind of Meditation" caught my eye. I had just started running again the month before. After 10 months of intensive yoga teacher training where all of my spare time was spent doing yoga, thinking about yoga and studying yoga, I was happy to add a different but familiar practice to my life. I have always loved to run, but because I don't think of myself as an "athlete", I limited myself as far as what I thought I could do. At the same time, I tended to overdo things, so then I would get frustrated and stop running.

My main goal for the retreat was to find out how I could make my yoga practice and my running practice overlap more (and thus save time - ha), but more importantly, I wanted to make sitting meditation part of my daily routine. I haven't had time of late to go to one of the meditation centers in the area, so I started going to a couple of yoga classes that start with 20 minutes of meditation. Lately, I haven't been able to make it to those classes, and my sense of feeling burnt out from a year that has been all about training has increased. During the retreat I found myself sharing that I started my yoga practice over 10 years ago by setting aside 5 minutes a day for practice. It struck me that I could start to develop a meditation habit in much the same way. It also helped that in a yoga teacher forum, someone recommended the "Insight Timer" phone app, something so simple that would never have occurred to me. The timer takes away the need to look at a clock, and the chimes are less jarring than an alarm clock. I think that the key to developing a regular practice of anything is to find what works for you and your daily life. It simply won't work if you think you should do something that works for someone else. I used to be "too busy" to meditate, and now funnily enough, I find that meditation gives me more time.

A couple of the themes of the retreat were being gentle with oneself and bringing the mind of meditation into any activity. Sakyong Mipham, the leader of the Shambala lineage, started the Running with the Mind of Meditation retreats, and he talks about how nothing can replace a sitting practice, and yet the more we practice, the more we can bring the mind of meditation into anything we do. We started the day with breakfast in a big tent (one morning it was actually 32 degrees!), and then by 9 we would meet in the meditation room. After some sitting meditation, we would do a walking meditation, and perhaps a breathing exercise, with some discussion and/or a lecture. In the afternoons we had some free time - I spent mine at the Great Stupa each day - and then we would meet up in the mid-afternoon for yoga, walking meditation and discussion groups. We even had a form clinic where we did drills. Running incorrectly was especially fun. At one point someone pushed me to the front of our line, saying: You are going to be first, K. Accept what is. She cracked me up, and yet I still hear her voice. For so long I have resisted going to the front, for I have too long believed that calling attention to myself might make someone else feel bad.

The teachers were wise and charismatic in individual ways, and they made sure to connect with us as real people, thus not allowing us the time and space to put them on pedestals. After giving us form tips, one teacher said that if we are running in a way that works for us, to stick with that, for none of us are running "wrong". So often we label our experiences good and bad, rather than sitting with our experiences, and we teach our children to do this by labeling their behavior.

I found the running during the retreat difficult, for we were at 7800 feet, and now that I am home, running has become easy and even joyful. While in the mountains, I kept my water bottle (thank goodness I remembered to get one at the airport!)on me at all times, often throwing in a packet of Emergen-C. There is something that always draws me to mountains, a theme that has always been in my life. I wonder if that is why I feel like such a nomad. Mountains were even my theme for my yoga teacher training practical, so it's really no wonder I found myself in the mountains a couple of months later. The mountain air actually cleared out my sinuses!

We did one 30 minute meditative run each day. There were a number of marathoners in the group, so a group would go running early in the morning to get in some extra running. For me the 30 minute run was enough. We would start with an incline that went up about 500 feet, and I would struggle for breath during the first mile. By the time we reached the Great Stupa, I had to walk up the steps. At first I regarded this as a failure, until I saw it as an opportunity to do a walking meditation. Someone had mentioned that walking around the Stupa 3 times can correspond to 3 principles, such as thought, speech, and action - a concept I often work with in my yoga practice. So I started walking around the Stupa 2 times, and the 3rd time represented action, so I would resume the run at that point. The last part of the run would then become effortless somehow, even on the final day when we ran farther. On the last day I had dish duty (guests can volunteer to help the staff), so I had to run fast if I was going to have any time to eat. I don't know if it was because I was with the faster group, but I found myself on an unfamiliar trail. Even though I don't run with a watch, I used to think it helped me to know how much longer and farther I had to run, especially in terms of how far I was from home. So there I was, quite far from home, and I couldn't see the main buildings. I could glimpse someone's red cap and decided to just keep running.

I was challenged to recognize the difference between competitiveness and comparativeness. Because I didn't think of myself as an athlete, I didn't think of myself as competitive. When I think about how I have been struggling with confidence as a yoga teacher, I realize that I have been comparing myself to my yoga teachers and finding myself to be unworthy of the privilege to teach yoga because I never had any intention of teaching where I also practice. I want to teach at risk kids. And yet I am beginning to understand that this is a lesson that I need to learn. Yoga teaches us that we are each doing our own practice on the mat, and it is not about what anyone else is or isn't able to do. One's practice is never perfect, for now matter how good the pose may look, a teacher can still come and give an adjustment to bring someone deeper into a pose. One day I found myself running near a couple of the "fast people", and it challenged my expectations in such a way that I had to let go and just keep going. Perhaps they were running slow, which we had been encouraged to do. It was a meditative run, after all.

Another concept from the retreat has stayed with me: unconditional confidence. We often base our confidence on external affirmations and achievements. One of the teachers shared about how his father never gave him any praise no matter how well he did because his father didn't want him to get a big head. How often do we expend our efforts to get the approval of others, while withholding approval from ourselves? Often, when you live in the presence of alcoholism as I have, you measure yourself against the damage. Unconditional confidence means that even as we strive to do our "best", we refrain from judging our experience to be good or bad. Growing a heart for the world involves self-love. Someone asked the Sakyong if it is selfish to run, and he said that it depends on your intention. Doing something good for yourself like running does benefit others.

Now I am working on running my best race - with myself - and I am learning to let go of my conditions for being confident. Recently I spoke to a friend of mine who is preparing for a half marathon. She said that she wants to do her personal best, and I asked her what that meant - if it meant in terms of time, pace, weather, feeling. She had been basing her assessment of each run on her time. And then she said that her recent personal best wasn't her fastest - it was how she felt that day. I am finally understanding that my best runs (as well as the work/family/friendship paths I travel each day) are when I run from the inside out and not the outside in.

Aparigraha

2011-08-22T15:11:00.000-07:00

I was in my second 5K of the summer, and I decided to go for speed. And yet when I found myself trying to improve my time, I ended up overdoing it and getting carried away even though it wasn't what I had planned to do. I had started off at a slow and steady pace, but once I got past the halfway mark, I decided I was ready to increase my speed and try to pass people. I found myself looking at people with calculating eyes and thinking, "I should be able to pass that person! She looks slow! He is older than I am!" And so I started passing people fueled by less than flattering thoughts about their abilities. But my folly caught up with me, and the last mile felt longer than I expected. I started to get a stitch in my side and had to slow down, even having to stop, which probably cost me a whole minute.

When I realized how little time I had lost by having to stop, it made me laugh at how silly I was to think that stopping meant that I had lost significant time. I still was 7 minutes faster than my previous run. And I was faster than a friend of mine who runs more than I do, not that this means anything. (See, I'm better than my friend!) Good grief. Some of those people I thought I should beat probably ending up beating me. How easily I had gotten caught up in the spirit of competition without meaning to do so. I think I am not a competitive person, and yet in a competitive situation, I try to do my best. Making good time wasn't my original reason for signing up for the run; I believed in the cause, which was raising money for a state nature trail. And here I was racing with complete strangers and trying to be "better" when that's not why I run.

So I started thinking about the Sanskrit term "aparigraha" and how easy it is to get caught up in grasping for something that I am not actually ready to do. I find myself doing this in certain yoga classes because I want to show the teacher what I am capable of doing. Take pigeon pose for example. I want to show that I can sit with my shin parallel to the front of the mat, even if my hips aren't quite facing forward in the pose. Or I will find myself in Trikonasana avoiding the use of a block because I have long limbs that can easily reach the floor. Look what I can do! I don't need a wimpy block! And yet I know fully well that using block isn't actually a sign of weakness. The block helps me to get into better alignment and open my chest more. And yet I want to show everyone, but mainly myself, how well I can do it. I want extra credit.

In our achievement-based culture it is difficult to slow down and see the value in not running the fastest pace or doing the "best-looking" pose. And yet I still want to hear that I am doing a good job. I want that feeling that I am somehow going to get an "A" for effort. How many times have I heard that grasping for a pose when one isn't quite ready for it can lead to injury? Why do I always let my ego prevail? Yoga challenges me to find my edge over and over again, and at the same time my practice urges me to slow down. I can't think of anything else in my life that causes me to be continually challenged to work hard while also not working quite so hard.

For me the idea of not grasping involves letting go of the need to accomplish a defined goal. When my ego takes charge, I get in my own way and lose sight of my own timing.

kick start

2011-08-06T11:14:00.001-07:00

Today I had to drag myself to yoga class. Actually, I have been dragging myself to yoga or out for a run all week. People are always telling me that they admire how much I seem to do, which kind of makes me feel like there is no room to admit to being tired or down at times. It's been a rough week work-wise, but showing up for yoga, plus a solar plexus meditation taught by Elena Brower on Yogaglo have helped me keep from sinking into the doldrums. A heat wave with high humidity tends to make me feel like there is a weight pushing the energy right out of me.

The solar plexus meditation, which I taught in my classes this week, was about observing the breath with the hands on the solar plexus and allowing thoughts and feelings to pass through like the weather. Elena Brower talks about how the solar plexus is a place of power in the sense of connecting with one's own truth and being present for oneself. I told my students that I didn't want them to connect with their
"inner Donald Trump"; I wanted them to feel the sense of empowerment and authenticity that comes from being able to be present within rather than being caught up in all the directions that our outer lives tend to pull us.

Today we were working up to the pose "pincha mayurasana", which is not one of my favorite poses. I told the girl next to me that I didn't want to do it, and she said: So don't do it. I said that the poses I tend not to want to do are usually the poses I need. Besides, our teacher is someone with a special gift for encouragement, so I usually let her talk me into poses. We were working with our forearms in a strap, and I found this difficult in the L at the wall position that we were told we could do if we couldn't kick up into the pose. For some reason I then decided to experiment with kicking up into the pose. It helped that my arms couldn't move, and to my surprise, I kicked up into the pose on my own for the first time!

I've written before that how I feel about inversions is rather like how I feel about relationships. Taking the risk to kick up into a pose is how I feel about taking a risk in a new relationship. Sometimes it feels like a big enough risk to be open and say hello. For years I would end up in relationships at the whim of the other person, and because that person "needed" me, I would stay out of loyalty. Later I would wonder if I even liked the guy. Upon taking the time to get to know a decent guy whom I actually like, the risk of opening up to anything more becomes panic about how my world will be turned on its axis. So I take my time to work in the pose, rather than running away and saying I can't do this, and hopefully this will teach me to stick around in a situation that scares me.

second thoughts

2011-08-02T10:02:00.000-07:00

So the other day I subbed for one of my favorite teachers. It was a hot day, and there were a couple of beginners in the class. The class got off to a late start because people were still filling out waivers 10 minutes after class was supposed to start. One of "my students" was a retired teacher who seems to attend classes every day, so I have been in quite a lot of classes with him. He can do arm balances that I cannot (yet) do. I had the thought: What made me think I am ready to teach my fellow students? I haven't learned everything there is to learn about yoga yet! And yet I know fully well that teaching allows one to continue to be a student from a different perspective and learn on a deeper level. And as I am continually reminded, one is never done learning yoga. There are many things that others can do that I cannot, and yet there are also things I cannot do that others may find difficult.

This week my theme for the classes I taught was based on my experience in the 5K last week - when I found myself running with others. I thought about how long it took me not to compare myself to the people on the other mats. I think it took me over a year before I even talked to my fellow students. I guess I had to pretend they weren't there, so I would keep going back after I realized how hard yoga can be. I still have a bad habit of unintentionally ignoring people when I am nervous or unsure of myself. And yet I realized this week that I am not really nervous in front of a class of my peers any more. Giving adjustments allows a compassionate perspective on where students may be struggling. So what I shared with my classes is that as solitary as our practices and goal setting can be, whether the practice is running or biking or yoga, we go to classes to be in community. There are little ways we can encourage one another, like when a fellow student told me she saw me "get" an arm balance. I used to be self-conscious of my Ujjayi breathing until a teacher pointed out that audible breathing reminds others to breathe. Right before class, as if to illustrate what I was about to say, I watched a student introduce herself to another student, saying "I've been in so many classes with you, I figured it was time to introduce myself." A couple of days later, one of my friends from teacher training visited my class, and her presence was so encouraging to me - as was the presence of the friend for whom I was subbing.

So although we are on our individual mats alone, how can we take notice of the encouragement we have to offer our fellow students - and the encouragement they have for us?

The journey is not as long when there are two...

2011-07-29T09:52:00.000-07:00

So last night was the night of the run I have been training for - to benefit St. Ben's, an organization that serves the hungry in Milwaukee. I was with a group, but I wanted to run on my own. I wasn't interested in how I placed; I just wanted to finish the race without stopping.

As the run got started, it was disconcerting to be in such a pack of people. I would later find out that they had a record turnout for the race - almost 2000 people! tTe walkers were supposed to be on a different circuit, but many of them got confused and went on the route for the runners. It was hard to see as I tried to run around some of the walkers, but thankfully I didn't run into the stone bench that I almost didn't see! Some people around me were talking, and I wondered why they were wasting their breath on talking - because I have always had a hard time talking while running.

At some point I noticed a couple wearing t-shirts that said something like: The journey isn't as long when there are two. Or perhaps it said "When there are more than one". Shortly after I noticed those t-shirts, two women came alongside me and said they would keep me company. One of them ended up walking, so the other woman and I ran together. We talked the rest of the way, and to my surprise, talking wasn't a problem. I learned that she was a mother of 4 who had been in the Navy and was now in nursing school. There were a couple of times when she asked if we could walk, but only briefly. Somehow I didn't mind slowing down and walking, even though it hadn't been my intention. I already knew I could run the 5K without stopping, so when my new friend asked, I felt good about being able to encourage her. As we neared the end, I wondered where the other woman had ended up. When I turned around, I saw that she was not far behind us. She said it had kept her motivated to keep us within her sights. We finished the race together.

While maintaining a practice is often a solitary endeavor, practicing yoga or running with others enhances the journey.

let go...even of letting go

2011-07-27T10:31:00.000-07:00

My second workshop at the Midwest Yoga Journal Conference earlier this month was with Cyndi Lee, founder of Om Yoga. I'd been to a wonderful workshop with Cyndi at the previous conference I'd attended. Plus she had just done a Teacher Training in Berlin, my home city, which she had been posting about on Facebook. The topic was "Mindful Vinyasa", which was great for me since I like a class that keeps me moving but at the same time I want to be more mindful of what I am doing. During the meditation Cyndi said: Let go, even of letting go. It made me chuckle because I tend to get attached to figuring out the meaning of a given concept, even the concept is letting go.

This past weekend I had a 15 hour K-8 yoga teacher training with Joanne Spence, who hails from England/Australia/Pittsburgh. I was fascinated to hear about how she started doing yoga after 2 years of recovering from a car accident and then went on to bring yoga into the Pittsburgh public schools, as well as numerous juvenile detention centers and mental health facilities. The 10 yoga teachers who were in my group were inspiring as well, and a spirit of camaraderie was established right away. We had to do numerous activities for Kindergarten through 8th grade together, so we were able to act like children and have fun with said activities. There is something very exciting about coming from a teacher training that laid the basic foundation for my teaching and getting to a place of using the gift of yoga to help others.

This week I will participate in my first running event in many years - a 5K run to benefit the hungry who are served by St. Ben's, an organization in Milwaukee that I have long appreciated. I've gotten some of the board members and a bunch of guys from the gym/work to run/walk as a team, so I am psyched, even though it is supposed to either rain or be 88 degrees that day. I am so happy to be running again!

I've been somewhat exhausted lately, and I am realizing I need a vacation. So I have planned two mini-vacations for September. I've registered for a running/meditation/yoga retreat in Colorado over Labor Day weekend (a friend of mine joked that even my vacations are active), to be followed by a weekend in Door County. Then the weekend after that will be the second half of my K-8 yoga training!

Recently I attended a yoga class that had the theme of letting go of planning. Clearly I am one who likes to plan. I work with someone who seems to work best under pressure, so he doesn't plan his time. That means whenever I work with him on something, I am always running after him with reminders. I suppose he could stand to learn from me about planning his time, and yet I can learn from him about living in the moment. As Cyndi Lee pointed out, it's not so much about living in the moment at hand, because as soon as we try to do that, the moment is gone. It's about being more present and aware. Today's picture is from the sunset that greeted me after leaving a silk-screening workshop with work colleagues that my colleague had organized. Turned out to be quite an evening; it was nice to be out of the usual work environment.

Mistaken for a yoga teacher

2011-07-16T10:32:00.000-07:00

My first class at the Midwest Yoga Journal conference was with Sadie Nardini. I chatted with two women who assumed I was a yoga teacher. I was going to correct them until it hit me that I am actually a yoga teacher. I wanted to ask them why they assumed that since they weren't yoga teachers themselves. I don't think I look like a yoga teacher, but then again, what does a yoga teacher look like?!

The other day I was at my local food co-op, and the cashier said to me: You work out every day, don't you? And I wanted to ask, what gave me away? I don't consider myself to be the athletic type (probably because of those bad high school gym class memories), and yet it is true that I am physically active every day. I don't think it's so much a look as it is a feeling of health that one exudes. Another day I was talking to a dance teacher who said she could tell that I do yoga because of how I stand and walk. And here I thought I don't pay enough attention to my posture, especially since I had posture issues as a teenager and because I have scoliosis. I suppose all that yoga starts to show after a while.

I will be doing some subbing for the next 5 weeks at the yoga studio where I practice, which means I will actually start to be paid. The studio owner said: You are a professional yoga teacher now! Because I have been teaching at the gym that is in the building where I work as a salaried employee, I haven't been paid for any teaching up until now. It almost feels like I shouldn't get paid for something that I enjoy doing so much, but then again, how else am I going to pay for all the training? I am still trying to wrap my head around it all.

I almost didn't take the class from Sadie Nardini because she is a celebrity yoga teacher. From what I've read, she even has an agent. Whatever her status in the yoga world might be, I have to say that I liked her style. She told this that although she lives in NYC, her roots are Midwestern, which showed in her relaxed and quirky sense of humor.

The class with Sadie was about her core strength transforming methods. She asked us what we think the core is, quickly dispelling the notion that working the core is just the abs and getting a 6 pack. (And actually, as I learned in yoga school, it's more like an 8 pack.) According to Sadie, the core is where your inner truth resides, and the challenge is to align that inner truth with one's outer existence. She also talked about pelvic stability, the bandhas, and the whole core line from the inner arches to the crown. She referred us to the anatomical principles explored by Tom Myers in "Anatomy Trains". Tuning into our bodies through alignment allows us to deeper into our strength. Many of the poses we did had a rolling sort of feel to them - even when we came up into a lunge with the arms alongside the areas, the hands were the last to roll up. We also did a number of rolling planks. With a soundtrack that included one of my old favorites, Antibalas, the class had us sweating like crazy. The funny thing was that at the beginning when there was discussion, I was afraid there weren't be enough yoga. HA!

Transitions

2011-07-13T11:37:00.000-07:00

I was thinking about the topic of transitions for this blog entry when I received this incredibly timely weekly Pema Chodron quote:

Life is a good teacher and a good friend. Things are always in transition, if we could only realize it. Nothing ever sums itself up in the way that we like to dream about. The off-center, in-between state is an ideal situation, a situation in which we don’t get caught and we can open our hearts and minds beyond limit. It’s a very tender, nonaggressive, open-ended state of affairs. -Pema Chodron

I have been feeling like I am in transition now that I have finished yoga school and am thinking about where I want to teach. I went to the Yoga Journal Conference in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin this past weekend, and one of my workshops was with Cyndi Lee - about Mindful Vinyasa Flow. She encouraged us to pay attention to transitions.

On Friday I had adrenaline coursing through me all day because I had met my 3 mile running goal that morning, I had a mammogram, and I was teaching for the owner of the studio where I practice. Fortunately I was seen for the mammogram right away and had time to go to a cafe and sit out in the sun for an hour while preparing for the class I was to teach. I then remembered that I had been at that same cafe just a year before with one my dear teachers and friends, Marya. With great trepidation I had confessed to her that I was applying to yoga school. I didn't want her to think I was going to try to compete with her and the other teachers I had put on pedestals. I figured I would just teach yoga to those souls who were too afraid to go to a hip yoga studio. Marya laughed and teased that I had to have a good reason for going to yoga school if we were going to continue to be friends. A year later I found myself laughing that I had been so sure that I would never teach at the studio where I attend classes. And now I was preparing to teach for the studio owner.

It turned out to be a bigger class than I expected, and it included not one, but three teachers. The studio owner, another one of those teachers I put on a pedestal, told me that she enjoyed the class immensely because it was fun, funny and challenging. Thankfully she also had something for me to work on - transitions between poses. There's that word again. I attended one of her classes a few days later, and to my delight she included some of the poses and cues from the class that I taught. I took it as a compliment, and then I was inspired by what she added to those cues with her own spin. And then it hit me that as yoga students and teachers we inspired on another in the sharing of the practice of yoga.

The picture I chose for today is from a night when I was driving home from work and noticed that it looked like cloud mountains were surrounding the city. I love mountains! I try to take the time to look up and take notice of the clouds when I am driving or out walking, but more often than not, I pass through the scenery without paying attention to the landscape that connects me to the moment at hands.

I was dreading the drive to Lake Geneva because I am not a fan of the freeway. I rarely go over 55 miles an hour. It seems like such a silly fear when I have driven across the country to Edmonton, Canada, and even on the Autobahn, and I was once given the nickname "Betty Andretti". I found myself enjoying the drive to Lake Geneva because I was often the only car on the highway route that I chose. It was a beautiful and peaceful way to begin the day, with just me and Michael Franti in the background on a country road - the only quiet time I had before I made to the conference for 3 workshops equaling about 6 hours of yoga.

More to come about the conference...

I think I can't...

2011-07-06T11:15:00.000-07:00

This morning I was going to wake up early and attempt to run 3 miles before taking my Mom to her surgery. I had run 2.88 miles two days ago, and I wanted to keep up my momentum. Yet when my alarm went off, I talked myself out of getting up. I told myself it would be too hot and that I didn't have the motivation to run that far today. I told myself I just wasn't up to doing it. Perhaps tonight, was another thought, even though I know I don't feel like running at the end of the day. Thankfully, I got up half an hour later and went for a 2 mile run. Going for a shorter run was certainly better than not running at all, especially since I have been consistent about running every two days. Showing up is always half the battle.

I am becoming aware of how often I talk myself out of things, and this surprises me because I am hard worker - certainly not one to back away from a challenge. My self-sabotage over time is much more subtle than a sudden decision to completely give up. I suppose you could say that I start to give up over time until I have slowly but surely resigned myself to giving up, almost without noticing how it came about.

One and a half years ago I found it difficult to make it to one yoga class a week, and now I go to 4 or 5 classes a week. I used to say that I would never do a handstand or crane pose. I certainly wouldn't have thought that I could become a yoga teacher; I was "bad" at gym class. I even got a D in gym once! Shocking. How silly to let my high school experience determine my choices as an adult.

I find that I can sabotage certain yoga poses with my thinking, especially if I am trying to do a balancing pose and others can see me. And yet what happens when we fall out of a pose? We fall out of a pose. And we can get right back into a pose. Yoga reminds me that my practice need not be perfect. Once I show up, it's about being present to what the pose can show me.

It has also been one and a half years since my last relationship. This timing is surely not a coincidence. While I have no regrets about ending that relationship, my trust has been tenuous at best. I suppose my thinking on the prospect of a new relationship is rather like going into tree pose and expecting perfect balance on the first try. I practice tree pose daily because I like starting off the day with a sense of balance. When I tell my students that there is nothing wrong with falling out of a pose, I need to remember this advice applies to other areas of my life as well.

The fact that my practice will never be perfect is an attitude that I need to have off the mat as well.

Thought is cause: experience is effect. If you don't like the effects in your life, you have to change the nature of your thinking. - Marianne Williamson

baci da Padova

2011-06-30T08:22:00.000-07:00

The other night I watched a movie called "Letters to Juliet", a romantic film set in Italy. It wasn't an especially good film, although amusing, and yet I always love to see images of Italy again, regardless of the context. The next day I saw on Facebook that it was the birthday of someone whom I met in Italy many years ago - someone who will always be very special to me. The silly movie and the memory of Genchi reminded me of the importance of seizing a moment, or rather, being seized by a moment.

The moments of happiness we enjoy take us by surprise. It is not that we seize them, but that they seize us. —Ashley Montagu

I met him at a rooftop party in Padova when I was visiting a German friend of mine. By that point it had already been an incredible journey. I had gotten a ride through the "Mitfahrerzentrale" in Berlin to Munich, with a man who didn't like to stop for bathroom breaks or listen to decent music. My friend and her boyfriend then picked me up in Munich, and we had an incredible drive through the Alps, Austria and Northern Italy.

The Italians at the rooftop party told me that Italians aren't much for foreign languages. So I spoke German with one person, French with another, and English with yet another. My Spanish and French helped me to understand quite a bit of the Italian, but responding was a challenge, especially since I had just arrived from Germany and had been speaking only German.

I noticed G as soon as he arrived. Later I would think about how he was all my high school crushes combined. I tend to get very shy around guys I find attractive unless they seek me out, but perhaps because of the language barrier, he ignored all of that. I'm still not sure how we managed it, but despite his poor English and my lack of Italian, we discussed Chinese philosophy. We watched the moon move across the sky. He would later tell me that he found it difficult to talk to Italian girls about such things, and he liked my funky shoes (I was wearing men's oxfords with a dress).

Because I can be rather oblivious when male attention is being paid to me (unless of course it's someone I find annoying), I was completely taken off guard at the end of the evening when I said goodbye to G by kissing both of his checks in the European way, and he decided to take the kissing a bit further.

That might have been the end of it if I hadn't gone to a park the next day with my friend Alberto, whom I knew from my student days in Berlin. I would find out later that he'd had a crush on me, but again, I was oblivious. I told him about the man I would never see again, and he asked if I remembered his last name. I didn't, but I remembered that G told me his last name meant "Germans" in Italian. And before I knew it, Alberto was calling all the people with that last name in the Padova telephone book. These were the days before cell phones and email, so it was a stroke of luck that G happened to be sitting by his parents' phone (he lived in their basement flat). He would later tell me that his parents were unlisted, so he marveled that Alberto was able to call him. I was put on the phone, and in broken English (my English was quite confused by this point) we made plans for dinner that night.

The dinner we had was a comedy of errors as we ordered our pizza. I didn't realize we were ordering individual pizzas, so the conversation about pizza toppings was especially confusing because I was trying to a do a pizza topping compromise. We both knocked over our beverages, which made us laugh. Up until that point I was used to dating starving artists who couldn't buy me dinner.

It was supposed to be my one attempt to have a holiday fling, but I failed miserably at keeping it superficial. In order for me to get involved with someone, there has to be a deep connection. While the 3 evenings we would spend together had all the appearances of a fling, we remained in touch after I returned to the U.S. G wrote me some long letters, which I know wasn't easy for him to do in English. One will always stand out in my mind. He said that we will have windows that many never open. Those who do open their windows to another person, allow the real smells to be experienced. Our meeting felt like one of those times were we each opened our windows to one another at the same time. Timing is such a funny thing. Had it been another place, another time, perhaps we would not have had such an intense connection. Most of us get so caught up in our routines, myself included, that it is difficult to be aware of those moments of possibility. I think that the lesson I learned - one that I keep forgetting - is that it is always worth taking the risk of opening my window.

Mountain Yoga

2011-06-27T15:37:00.000-07:00

I had to teach a 50 minute class as part of my yoga school final. Since I teach rock climbers in a climbing gym and I love mountains, a climbing theme felt rather apropos. The week before my final, I thought about how the 10 months of training was like a climbing experience I had in the Alps when I was 17 (Mount Aggenstein). And then the night before my final I took a well-timed study break to attend the opening of the Summer in China exhibit at the Milwaukee Art Museum. I was especially inspired by an incredible exhibit called: Emerald Mountains: Modern Chinese Ink Paintings from the Chu-tsing Li Collection. Apparently these paintings, called shanshui (mountain and water), are meant to depict a spiritual journey more than actual landscape representations, in order to show the artists’ feelings about nature, especially mountains, which are sacred to Chinese culture.

My class started with this quote:
One climbs, one sees. One descends, one sees no longer, but one has
seen. There is an art in conducting oneself in lower regions by memory
of what one has seen higher up. When one can no longer see, one can at
least know. -Rene Daumal

We climb mountains to see breathtaking sights. This class is about viewing the geography of your body as a breathtaking sight - to remember during times when we forget that we too are wonders of the world to behold. We always seem to take as much equipment as we can on our travels. When it comes to an expedition of ourselves, we have everything we need. As we go through each pose, ask yourself if there is a habitual way of thinking that no longer serves you as you climb your own personal mountain.

Here are the questions I asked during the class:
What do you say about yourself when your center of gravity changes?
How does the story you tell about your life change when viewed from a different perspective? We tell ourselves that the day will suck because of the weather...or that a challenge will be too hard before we even begin...change the words to your story and change your experience. Take yourself to the mountain top and find the good in the pose and find the beauty in your own landscape.
Feel where you are both strong and vulnerable in a given pose.
What loving thought can you express to get you up and down that mountain?

We talk about the natural wonders of this world while forgetting that we too are natural wonders. My favorite comment after the class was from my teacher; she said that the class made her feel like she was ready to actually climb a mountain. For those interested, the actual sequence of poses follows.

Focus: hip and heart openers (for opening and letting go) – balances
(concentration and focus) - headstand (perspective)

Sequence
Pranayama: Alternate Nostril breathing (Nadi Shodhana)

Warm-up: Shoulder stretches/Cow Face arms (Gomukhasana) and
Garudasana arms with hero’s pose legs (Virasana) – use block, Neck
stretches, Sufi Rolls
From Table: Balance of arms/legs on opposite sides (forward, cactus,
side)
Low to High Lunge with a twist

Sun Salutations: forward fold/plank/down dog/forward fold; (vary
push-up and Chattarunga)
Chair Pose (Utkatasana) into Forward Fold (Uttanasana) - 2 or 3 times,
last time with clasped arms overhead
Adho Mukha Svanasana with hip opener into Intense lizard stretch
(Utthan Pristhasana) -on toes or knee

Adho Mukha Svanasana into Dolphin – counter with Balasana or hands
under feet in forward fold (Padahastasana)

Virabhadrasana II into Trikonasana into Parsvakonasana – with
wide-legged forward fold (Prasarita Padottanasana) between switching
sides
(if time permits, add Vrksasana into Ardha Chandrasana)

Headstand (Salamba Sirsasana) at the wall
Balasana

Restorative Bridge (Salamba Setu Bandha) - with block

Cool Down: Badakonasana, Janu Sirsana, Pavanamuktasana or Jathara
Parivartanasana, hug yourself like an egg

Savasana – 5 minutes

on pain

2011-06-23T07:47:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about pain lately, probably because I've been in pain from dental surgery for the past week. I was asked an interesting question by the dentist after I told him that I've always experienced a great deal of pain during dental work. Sometimes I react because I anticipate pain. He asked if that is how I experience pain in general and elsewhere. And the answer is a resounding no. Usually I have a very high tolerance for pain. One of my yoga teachers told me that I am a "pusher" because I will push myself to my edge, and yet I will recognize and respect that edge. Normally pain is not a deterrent to a given challenge for me; rather, pain has become a signal to become aware and do something different.

The tendency in this country is to take "pain killers". After my dental surgery I was prescribed vicodin, and I said that I would rather not take it. (The one other time I had taken it was for back pain, and because I started to hallucinate, I decided that I would rather deal with the pain.) At the dental clinic they looked at me with disbelief and said: But you get to go home and take vicodin and eat ice cream! I said that I'd rather go to yoga, and they laughed. I did take the vicodin just during the night. Several hours after I stopped taking it I started throwing up violently. I even had to pull over in going home traffic to be ill in the street. When I ended up back in the dental clinic due to increased pain 5 days later, they remarked on how much they had cut me up during my surgery and again suggested I take the vicodin. But this time I refuse. I would rather work through the pain than be in a fog of pain.

Here's the thing. I would rather face the pain than become numb because I know what it's like to spend years being numb, having lived through an emotionally abusive relationship for 8 years. Surprisingly, many people would rather live in pain than do something about it - because change might be even more painful. In last night's yoga class the teacher had us experiment with an "unplugged" feeling in our postures before then plugging in with awareness. I am grateful that I learned to stop seeing myself as a victim because that is when I finally plugged into my life. The lights turned back on and have stayed on. I now understand that I had given my consent to be treated badly. Five years later I love my life with all of its ups and downs and can't imagine living with that kind of misery again. Thankfully I will never be in a relationship with that person again. Now he treats me with respect, and I doubt that he would ever treat me that badly again. But I had to stop giving consent and I had to look inside at the real cause of my pain, the pain that said I wasn't worth a better life.

Last night my yoga teacher Tammy talked about Pema Chodron, someone who has inspired me a great deal. Pema talks about how many people prefer pain to uncertainty. The problem is that pain can become such a familiar companion that we don't grow from our circumstances. While I think that pain is a part of life, I don't think we have to ruled by it.

Next week I have been asked to speak to a group about my story of living with the alcoholism of another. Public speaking is not my favorite thing, but I think it's important to share our stories of difficulty and hope. While it was painful to lose my father to alcoholism, it is even more painful to watch my son go through the same thing. That is why, even though my ex doesn't pay child support or help with his schooling, I will always make sure my son gets to see his father. I will also do everything I can to give my son tools for plugging into his own life and being present to all the beauty this life has to offer.

"Life is glorious, but life is also wretched. It is both. Appreciating the gloriousness inspires us, encourages us, cheers us up, gives us a bigger perspective, energizes us. We feel connected. But if that's all that's happening, we get arrogant and start to look down on others, and there is a sense of making ourselves a big deal and being really serious about it, wanting it to be like that forever. The gloriousness becomes tinged by craving and addiction. On the other hand, wretchedness--life's painful aspect--softens us up considerably. Knowing pain is a very important ingredient of being there for another person. When you are feeling a lot of grief, you can look right into somebody's eyes because you feel you haven't got anything to lose--you're just there. The wretchedness humbles us and softens us, but if we were only wretched, we would all just go down the tubes. We'd be so depressed, discouraged, and hopeless that we wouldn't have enough energy to eat an apple. Gloriousness and wretchedness need each other. One inspires us, the other softens us. They go together."
— Pema Chödrön

yin and yang: transitions

2011-06-20T07:57:00.000-07:00

This egg was on top of my Japanese Udon soup during my last yoga school weekend, and I couldn't believe how much it looked like a yin and yang symbol. Someone asked me if the egg was made like that on purpose; that person must not realize that I don't spend quite that much time in the kitchen. It felt like a reminder to me that although I was finishing a big endeavor, that it will be important to seek balance in the weeks to come.

There are many things to consider as new possibilities for teaching yoga begin to present themselves. I know I want to teach beginners, and by beginners I don't necessarily mean people who have never done yoga. By "beginners" I mean people who are continually amazed at how yoga can change their ways of thinking, doing and being. I am looking forward to doing yoga with children before they hit the rock climbing wall at one place, but I also want to keep working with adults. And I would like to learn more about yoga therapy, but training will take more time and money. Frankly, at present I am just a bit yoga'd out. I was in a class recently where the teacher talked about how it's not about doing yoga on the mat all the time or doing the more challenging poses. If you are just doing yoga on the mat, there can be a such thing as too much yoga. I've been going to yoga classes about 4 or 5 times a week, and I don't intend to start going any less. And yet I need to mix it up by finding time to knit, hang out with friends, go running...

And dare I say it...I'm pretty sick of Facebook these days. Yes, that will seem ironic to my Facebook friends. I post regularly for a few reasons. It's a good challenge for me to put a thought for the day in a small 5 line space because I tend to ramble. If I post an intention on Facebook, I am much more likely to follow through. It's also been an efficient way for me to stay in touch with a larger number of friends and co-workers when I haven't had time for emails. I may not remember to write down the things that my son says in a special book, but I now have a collection of his quotes thanks to FB and the encouragement of my friends. I can always find an inspiring status update, quote and/or link amidst the silliness. I don't like to read complaints about the weather, and yet I believe in venting and getting feedback about difficult situations. As I post what I am up to, I wonder if people really need to know everything that I am doing. I'm sure there are some people who are tired of my yoga posts and links. And then there are the Facebook friend requests from people I don't even know. Occasionally it's a great way to "meet" someone whom I wouldn't have otherwise met, especially yoga people from other cities. And it's a place to advertise good causes, for as non-profit resources continue to dwindle, Facebook is a valuable free resource. And yet now that I don't have so much studying to do, I am going to try to make more time for face-to-face communication with the people I really want to get to know and those dear to me.

Time for more yoga off the mat.

upside down endings that are really beginnings

2011-06-19T18:51:00.000-07:00

This picture was taken on my last day of yoga school. It's my first handstand where someone isn't holding my feet while I freak out. Actually it's my second one because I wanted proof of the first one. Somehow the panic was all gone, as though I'd used up all my fear and there wasn't any left, and I knew I was strong enough. Someone asked me not long ago what I was afraid of, if it was being upside down that I didn't like. I know that's not it because I enjoy headstand. (I actually thought everyone liked headstand, but after teaching a headstand class, I have come to realize that is not true.) I guess I thought my arms weren't strong enough to support me. I think the real reason that I was afraid to do handstands had more to do with trust. When you are on your hands, you can see the ground and how far there is to fall.

The handstand on my own probably meant more to me than my yoga teacher graduation certificate. Even though it was the last day, I was reminded that I will never be done with learning about yoga. They say that the mark of an advanced practitioner has more to do with awareness than with the amount of difficult poses one can do. And yet challenging your personal edge also involves the maintenance of beginner's mind. It takes practice to work through one's fears and get to the place where it feels possible to do that which one has believed to be impossible. I don't think that most people who know me would describe me as a fearful person. And yet I have learned over the years that if I am afraid of something, fear is the signal that there is something I need to learn. So I might as well own that fear and face it.

I remember thinking that crane/crow pose was impossible. Today I was able to do twisting side crow pose with ease. I was in a class today where we did quite a few arm balances, and I was able to do all of them but one, and even that one I almost managed. And I asked myself, when did I become someone who can do arm balances?

I took my first yoga class 10 years ago, but then it was over 5 years before I took another one. My ex didn't think I needed more than one class. So for years I practiced at home. It struck me recently that I can be grateful in part to my ex because I now have a strong home practice. Going to my first class at the studio where I currently practice was beyond intimidating. That first day I told the teacher she wasn't going to get me to do a handstand. She smiled and ignored me because it wasn't long before she had helped me into one.

I still can't believe I made it through 10 months of a yoga teacher training program. My teachers don't seem surprised. Part of my problem was that I spent many years with someone who didn't think I had it in me. I now understand that when someone expresses disbelief that you can do something, they are talking about themselves. After all those years of "waiting to exhale", I have found my breath. When looking for strength to face a given challenge, start and end with the breath. Grace comes from following the breath.

Bear Hugs Kettle

2011-02-24T09:37:00.000-08:00

(Adapted from a story retold by Emmet Fox)
A party of hunters, called away from their camp, left the campfire unattended, with a kettle of water boiling on it. An old bear crept out of the woods, and, seeing the kettle with its lid dancing about on top, promptly seized it. The boiling water scalded him badly; but instead of dropping the kettle instantly, he proceeded to hug it tightly - this being the bear's idea of defense. Of course, the tighter he hugged it, the more it burned him; and the more it burned him, the tighter he hugged it; and so on in a vicious circle, to the undoing of the bear. This illustrates the way in which many people hug their difficulties to themselves by constantly rehearsing them to themselves and others.

Holding on to what hurts, frustrates, exhausts, depletes us stays in our bodies. I've been thinking about how the practice of yoga teaches us to let go of the things that have kept us tense and stressed out by showing us how our body can feel without those things. This will be my theme for the class I teach tonight...

shedding goals

2010-10-11T07:34:00.000-07:00

This weekend was my second month of yoga school. I am especially relieved to have my first quiz behind me! I knew that it wasn't about getting a perfect score and showing the teacher what a good student/girl I am, for this is what my early schooling was about.

For example, I am finding all the anatomy we have to learn overwhelming to take in because I am used to getting something right away. I am used to being good at things and being able to do many things at once. And yet this mentality is what I need to push past in order to grow.

We were studying restorative poses, which involve quite a few props, relaxation and letting go. At first I did the poses with the attitude that it was okay if I felt a bit of pulling in my back, that I didn't need quite so many props. And then when the teacher added a bolster and I didn't feel any tension at all, the first words out of my mouth were: But that's boring! She laughed and said that restorative poses were perfect for someone like me. Because I'm used to doing a lot with my days and abilities. When I'm at a loss, I feel like I am not doing enough and not fast enough. The other day one of my fellow students made a comment about overachievers who do yoga in the early morning before coming to yoga school. Of course I had done my usually 20 sun salutations and 100 sit-ups that morning.

It drives me a bit nuts when people rave about Bikram yoga because I don't think Bikram is for everyone. There are quite a few people who experience injuries, and many, such as I, don't have the constitution for extreme heat. To me Bikram seems more about the workout and losing weight than anything...it doesn't feel like yoga in the sense of integrating mind, body and spirit to me. I want to tell my gorgeous friend who has been crediting Bikram for her sleeker shape that she looked amazing a few months ago and I want to know why she is still working toward a goal of losing more inches. But I know the answer because I am like this too. I wait to achieve my goals before accepting myself, which doesn't tend to happen, because by the time I reach one goal, I already have another...or three. We can always do better, right?

But perhaps if I can let go of my goals long enough, I will appreciate the journey all the more.

From "The Breath of God":
When you no longer have a goal-oriented mentality, then you also don't think anything is either too hard or too easy. Opportunities simply show themselves, and you see them more closely for what they are. Finally, you understand that there is something vast within you, which is the foundation of your life and the essence of your purpose here, and that everything important about this whole experience of Life is inside of you and not outside.
...
When talking about tasks or goals, think of a tree. A tree doesn't understand what its goal is intellectually; it doesn't follow a rational set of steps that it thinks through one by one before undertaking each of them. In fact, to try to define every single process involved in the growth of a tree would go beyond what a person's mind could consciously articulate. Yet it's a simple thing: the seed takes in nourishment and articulates its creative capacity.

poetry was my first love

2010-09-30T20:30:00.000-07:00

The Milwaukee Film Festival is going on, and I should be doing my anatomy homework. But I couldn't resist squeezing in one more film. It was a Milwaukee-made film called "Mark My Words", featuring several African-American poets. I was reminded that my first love was poetry, the main reason why I survived as a young girl. When I felt like crying or punching the wall, instead I wrote. Perhaps they weren't the best poems, but the act of taking pen to paper helped me to bring the words out from where they were scraping up against my insides and carving wounds where no one could see them. Writing helped me bleed out the pain and start to heal on paper.

At the end of the film, poet Muhibb Dyer says that we can change our words and our thoughts. If we change our thoughts, we can change our relationships. If we change our relationships, we can change our communities. If we can change our communities, we can change the world.

This week I had coffee with a woman who heads up an organization that works for social justice in Milwaukee. I asked her to meet with me so I could find out what happened to the prison libraries that were dismantled by our current sheriff. To me it makes no sense to take away a powerful tool for opening doors that allow for new beginnings. For a person to leave prison and go back to the same life means the likelihood of returning to old ways.

When I was a temporary prison librarian at the age of 20, I learned that most of the kids who had ended up in the juvenile prison had very low reading levels. I truly believe that the more we can read, the more we realize is possible. But if that ability is limited and not encouraged, choices are that much more limited.

I found out that the prison needs volunteers to help with books. I was told that they could really use people with a background in poetry. And then I saw the film "Mark My Words" just a few days later. One of the things that really spoke to me when I watched the film tonight was how the poets were talking about speaking the words that someone else may need to hear. I watched as two of the poets did a workshop with kids in a group home. One girl read a piece where every line began with "The truth is..." and she shared her painful reality and how she is determined that her baby daughter will know a different life.

As I learn Sanskrit and anatomy for yoga school, I am reminded that poetry began my healing journey and yoga brought my body into the healing process more fully. Poetry needs to be part of my yoga journey. And people need to be part of my poetry. It's not just me and a piece of paper in my room in the middle of the night any more.

back to school

2010-09-26T06:32:00.001-07:00

I didn't realize it's been so long since I've blogged. Perhaps it's because I haven't been doing much writing for myself. I've been writing for an e-zine called "Life After Hate", which has inspired me to get more involved in my community. This past week I went to a Community & Resistance Tour, which was about the power of the pen and how grass roots organizations can make a difference, as well as a Mental Health Summit that focused on Race, Culture and Diversity. The Milwaukee Mental Health Task Force, which is comprised of many social service agencies, sponsored this powerful event. There were two amazing keynote speakers who showed thought-provoking videos, such as "The Color of Fear" and the Black Doll White Doll experiment (which is still on my mind, for it broke my heart to see the black children choose the white doll, saying that was the "good" doll and the black doll was the "bad" doll. The original experiment took place in the 50's, so a 16 year old decided to try the experiment again...with similar results. As much as we think has changed, there is so much more work to be done.

This month I started yoga school, something I've been thinking about doing for a couple of years. I was and still am embarrassed to tell my favorite yoga teachers for I feared that they might think I would try to do what they do...for I tend to put my yoga teachers on a pedestal. My main reason for going to yoga school is a selfish one: to immerse myself in the underpinnings of yoga and to explore all the questions I've had at the end of a class and didn't have the time to pursue. I'd love to teach at risk kids, in fact I taught a 2 month yoga class for African American teenagers this past summer. At the end of a 3 day information-packed yoga-filled weekend (24 hours total) where we did yoga, learned about anatomy (this will be the most difficult part for me!), discussed meditation, explored chakras, etc. (I already love my fellow students) I went to the Indian Summer Festival with my family. I met a woman who gave me a lesson to ponder as I pursue this course of study. She was a rather large woman with a small breathing tube in her nose, and I am embarrassed to admit that I judged her, thinking she must have been living an unhealthy life. In fact, I almost dismissed her and kept walking. After I said I couldn't afford one of her woven medicine bags and that I have a hard time starting and finishing knitting projects due to my penchant for perfectionism, she told me that she has to let go of what her projects will look like when they are finished. And then she told me about how she had almost died to a respiratory disease and a stroke. Her weaving brought her back to life. As she talked, her face took on a beautiful glow. And I bought a medicine bag that I really couldn't afford but knew that I needed as a reminder to not decide what my experience in yoga school will look like and where it will lead.

This poem sums up how I feel about doing the work to help others and live a meaningful life:

To Be of Use

The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half-submerged balls.

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.

I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.

The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.

Marge Piercy

like riding a bike

2010-08-03T08:35:00.000-07:00

I am teaching my 10 year old boy to ride a bike, and it's not easy. It's tempting to be angry with the ex, who was supposed to teach him years ago. After all, he was the one who had our son's bike and who was by far the more experienced rider. But because our son didn't want to at the time, he gave up right away. I should have done something about it at the time. After all, the doctor had said he needed bike riding for balance issues.

So now he is 10 years old, and his fear of the bike has grown. We have been practicing in the circle behind our house, and he keeps telling me not to let go. Yesterday I left go to brush away a mosquito, and he panicked because he was watching my hand instead of realizing that he was biking on his own power. I showed him that I still had a hand on his bike seat and I was still next to him.

He admitted that bike riding was starting to feel good, but I don't want to push him too far. No one tells you when it's the right time to let go. I told him that what we are afraid of isn't what we think we are afraid of, it's the fear itself that we are afraid to let go of. I had him practice braking and putting one of his feet on the ground to hold the bike. I wanted him to feel his way into the feeling of falling without actually falling. Later he watched a cartoon that featured a character who was afraid of driving.

I was reminded of when we were in Costa Rica, and my son didn't want to go on the canopy tour. I faced my fear of heights in order to go with him, and after he tried it, he didn't want to do it any more! Somehow, for his sake and my sake, I had to keep going.

I've lost 20 pounds since Christmas. I've had to face my fear of losing control of what I eat by letting go of dieting. Now I am facing my fear of gaining it back and simply letting myself be, without dieting. I bought a jar of Nutella yesterday, and I had some spread thinly on German sunflower seed bread. It was enough. I can trust myself to leave the jar of Nutella in the cabinet.

Fears come in many shapes and sizes, at all ages.

toolbox thoughts

2010-05-16T05:08:00.000-07:00

So this week I have been thinking about my inner toolbox, the tools I have acquired on my journey. Somehow each week seems to take on sort of theme, whether it be a word I heard at yoga or a book or article I'm reading, and then that word or idea will come up for several days. So as I ponder my inner toolbox, a word mentioned by a friend of mine, I note that there are a fair amount of necessary survival tools in my arsenal, I mean toolbox, such as quick fix wrenches when my life springs a leak. Lately I have been taking out the more specialized tools that enable me to approach my life's situations with creativity.

It's been three months since I got the unlimited yoga pass, and I haven't regretted my decision. There always seems to be a class when I need it most, and there is always something new to add to my toolkit. Sometimes it's a breathing technique, a posture that I've been avoiding (such as crow, which I can now do with more confidence), a thought on a wing.

An email conversation about creativity has been on my mind. I've long believed and experienced the possibilities for being awestruck on a daily basis. But you can get used to being thus inspired and start taking it for granted or get pulled into a number of directions. As I continue to work on being more aware, I find unexpected sources of inspiration. I notice opportunities I may not have considered. I need more time to write, but it also seems time to play with images along with words. If I focus too much on words, I get distracted by illusions of perfection.

For some reason I picked up a newsletter from a local book center to which I belong. I'd skimmed it already, but I picked it up again and noticed a 6 week series called the "Bookmaker's Toolkit". I've always wanted to take a bookmaking class, but this particular series includes printmaking, book binding, paper surfacing and more. Even though the deadline passed, I sent an email without thinking things through and was surprised to receive an email from a friend of mine who let me know there was still room and she would be delighted to add me to the roster!

My son is particularly excited that I will be taking this class, and he has all kinds of ideas for the books we can make. Perhaps we will finally finish our eco-cartoon. Today I want to take him into the woods to do some drawing, for I want to further explore my "view through the fingers of trees" theme.

My son has been on a kind of school strike this week. His teacher informed me that he hasn't been doing his work, in social studies of all things. I was baffled because of all the travel we have done, and because he is very interested in the world. When I went to his school to retrieve assignments he hadn't done - because I want him to learn that work we avoid will still need to be done - I found worksheets such as one on the rain forest. He has been to the rain forest! I suppose that a worksheet on the rain forest is less interesting than the real deal. And I thought about something someone said to me a while back: It's no wonder your son finds school boring - you have made life outside of school more interesting.

Because I want him to love learning - and he is constantly telling me that he hates school - I feel it is somehow my fault that he is bored in school. The grades really don't matter to me because I just want him to do his best and give it his all. Unfortunately for him, he has shown us that he is an A student and it's obvious when he is not making a real effort. I feel that he needs to learn that life will be boring at times and it is up to him to make things interesting. He feels that schools should be making things more interesting for children, but he doesn't quite get the concept of budget cuts and overworked teachers. I also want my son to learn to risk failure.

So while he was trudging through his make-up work, he decided that he wanted to do a poster project on the Appalachian Mountains because they hadn't learned much about the region. I'm relieved it was his idea, and I'm going to follow up on a suggestion I received for asking the teacher to let him do a presentation and/or display his work in class. It seems like a great way to get him to plug his independent learning experience back into school and the community of his classmates. By working on projects together, I can help my son with his own inner toolkit, while he inspires me with his own view of the world...through the fingers of trees.

I am a cup of tea

2010-05-13T10:31:00.000-07:00

This week I have been thinking about creativity. Whenever I go walking, phrases and images come to mind, and I never seem to have a notebook on me. Or I have one on me and forget to take it out of my bag. This quote resonated with me today:
If I waited for perfection, I would never write a word. -Margaret Atwood

Patti Digh, author of "Life is a Verb" often inspires me with links and quotes, such as these today:
http://www.37days.com/2010/05/welcome--to-thinking-thursday-every-thursday-some-links-tracing-my-tracks--across-the-web-and-a-gratuitous-link-or-twelve.html
I'm especially enjoying the loft filled with giant felted objects, as well as Gwyn Michaels site filled with tree paintings.

I have been really drawn to the work of Lotta Jansdotter of late - her screen prints are filled with images from nature. Check out some of her work here:
http://jansdotter.com/shop/categ.php?category=17
This makes me want to go out and draw plants. Perhaps I will drag Gustav out for a woods outing this weekend.

It's been a gloomy week, and while the rain doesn't tend to bother me usually, it has been a damp cold. Lately I have been waiting for a dry day so I can get out and run. Meanwhile I content myself with walking errands whenever possible. And while I enjoy my city walks, it's time to get out somewhere a bit wilder...

Last night I had a writing deadline - I've been writing a piece about the Food Revolution. I've been thinking about how it hurts our society on numerous levels when there are so many people who don't have access to good food that nourishes them from the inside out.

One last link which inspires me to make a date with a notebook later this evening:
http://danishapiro.com/2010/05/on-paying-attention/
I had a moment while crushing a cardamom pod for my tea yesterday. The hectic morning began to slow down as I contemplated the inside of the seed. I'm thinking about the concept of infusion as I steep myself in my own creativity. Samskara. A quote I found this morning:

Creativity often consists of merely turning up what is already there. Did you know that right and left shoes were thought up only a little more than a century ago?
-Bernice Fitz-Gibbon

Sometimes I miss the sparks while diverted by the fire itself. I take the daily inspirations to be found in my every day for granted and forget to dive deep into the beauty of the day. Cultivating awareness is my daily work, like starting the day by making my own tea blend. I make my life by making myself into a cup of tea.

Ay caramba!

2010-04-30T17:05:00.001-07:00

And yet another month has passed in a blur...what happened?

What have I been up to lately...?

Movies: "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo"...I too have a dragon tattoo, so of course I enjoyed this movie. And it's in Swedish...I have always dug things Swedish. Ikea, lingonberries, Pippi Longstocking. They're doing an American remake, and I cannot imagine why. It's a Swedish thriller - Americanizing it would change the whole feel of it. Warning - this movie is a bit graphic, certainly not my usual fare. It helped to have read the book, so I would know where to turn my head. ;) I recently saw the Hallmark movie "When Love is Not Enough", about Lois Wilson who founded Al-Anon, featuring Winona Ryder in the lead role. She has come a very long way from "Heathers"...! I also saw "How to Tame a Dragon", which I enjoyed, as well as "Diary of a Wimpy Kid", which I did not enjoy.

Books: I've just started a new translation of the "Bhagavad Gita", translated by Stephen Mitchell, because Bob Weisenberg at the Elephant Journal is starting a discussion on Facebook. I recently finished "The Orange Girl" by Jostein Gaarder. Gaarder wrote "Sophie's World", which I read in German years ago, as well as "The Solitaire Mystery". I'm still mulling this one over, unsure what I thought of it. Oranges seem to be coming up a lot lately. This past week I devoured the book "Women, Food and God" by Geneen Roth. I've recently lost about 15 pounds because of not dieting, so there was much that resonated with me while I read this book.

A description of the book from Amazon.com:
"She begins with her most basic concept: The way you eat is inseparable from your core beliefs about being alive. Your relationship with food is an exact mirror of your feelings about love, fear, anger, meaning, transformation and, yes, even God."

When eating becomes a meditation in awareness, it becomes a loving act. Daily acts of love towards ourselves will result in more love for others. It's that simple. And yet taking the time to contemplate and enjoy what you are putting into your body is a difficult habit to maintain when one is used to multi-tasking.

Creativity:
While I haven't been writing here, I've been writing for lifeafterhate.org - check out my latest article and a few of my poems on the new poetry page.
http://words.lifeafterhate.org/2010/04/boundaries-of-relationships/
Please read all the other contributions too!

My son and I have been cartooning together. His Oma gives him her funny pages from the newspaper, and he reads all of them, often reading them aloud and hooting with laughter. Since I was a budding cartoonist at his age, I suggested that we create our own eco-cartoon...

On a sad note our cat Skadi died. She was about 10 years old and hadn't ever been a particularly active cat. I always had a feeling that she might have been abused before we got her. We rushed her to the emergency vet clinic when she walked into a wall and fell over onto her side. The vet said it sounded like she had an enlarged heart and started throwing clots to her brain.

What struck me most about the experience was how intensely my son reacted. He cried his heart out for a good hour that night. When the vet came to ask us what happened earlier in the evening, he insisted that he be the one to tell her what happened. On the way home he told me in a somber voice that death is not what we think, that it's a release of our physical body and then we float through Earth instead of going to Heaven. He then said that God has a role for each one of us.

A week later my son was making a list of cat names. It felt too soon, but I took him to the Humane Society for "just a look". I took a cat carrier just in case, so I really should have known better. We looked at two 1 year old cats who were bonded to one another so closely that they had to be adopted together. The adoption counselor asked us how we felt about our decision to adopt. Gustav said: AWESOME! I said: Anxious!
So we took home Zeus and Zero, two very playful but sweet-tempered cats. I am glad I listened to my son's timing instead of my own. I like this definition of "zero": the spiritual meaning of zero deals with pure potentiality...

I also went to see Sri Sri Ravi Shankar speak, as well as attend a dance performance called "Speaking of Happiness". As I wrapped my mind around the concept of letting go as talked about Al-Anon recently, I realized that letting go isn't about flinging oneself into an abyss of not-knowing. It's about receiving wings, tickets to happiness. When I let go of worrying about what will happen next instead of grasping for the illusion of control with ideas about what is happening, I make room for possibility. Possibility makes way for happiness no matter what happens.

the presence of absence

2010-03-21T07:05:00.000-07:00

I just realized that it has been over a month since I have blogged. While I have been absent from this blog, I have been working on being more present in my own life. So many good things have been happening, while tests seem to crop up with each lesson learned, and I am just trying to keep up with it all in a whirlwind of good stuff.

At the beginning of March I attended a mind-blowing and heart-moving Storytelling Conference with the theme of "Nurturing Resilience: The Power of Storytelling to Build Healthier Bodies and Communities". I didn't know how I was going to pay for it when I signed up; I just knew that I needed to go. Later I found out that I received a prize (a journal) for being one of the two first people to sign up, which amazed me because there were a great deal of people there, including many teachers I used to work with. I thanked one of the organizers when I was leaving, and she stunned me by saying: You knew from the beginning how good and important this would be.

This was yet another reminder that I need to listen to my instincts when something comes up that is something I need in order to feed my spirit.

The keynote speaker was Nancy Mellon, who has written an amazing book called "Body Eloquence". She wrote the book with the conviction that our body contains a vast amount of stories that are stored in our various organs. When we tap into these stories, we are given resources for healing. Our children are dealing with bigger societal issues than ever, as they are bombarded with the soul-deadening effects of electronics. They will need healing and strengthening stories to help them work through the problems they encounter, in order that they may not store these conflicts and stress within themselves and experience increasingly poor health later in life.

When I was in grad school, the body was often used as a spiritually geographic metaphor for describing identity conflict in racial/gender/sexual identity politics. Gloria Anzaldua described her borderland experience of being a "new mestiza" with the bodily experience of straddling two shores and the difficulties of said straddling. Trinh T. Minh-ha also explores such things in her book "Woman, Native, Other", and I will simply have to find the quote that is eluding me at the moment. Back then I declared myself the cartographer of my own journey, having struggled with my own identity conflict of not being completely American or German.

Lately I've been looking at my own story with new eyes. Part of my story was just published in the e-zine: Life After Hate (lifeafterhate.org).
http://words.lifeafterhate.org/issues/issue-3/
I find myself in the company of amazing people/writers/artists who are striving to make a positive difference with their words/art and lives, unsure of how I've come to the privilege of joining them, yet unable to give into the old doubt that I am somehow not good enough to belong.

This past week I was at a luncheon that honored 15 women from Milwaukee who had "put their stamp" on the community. As I listened to story after story of commitment and the perserverance to serve others, I was in awe of these women who had not limited themselves by listening to specters of self-doubt, women who had moved mountains to raise families and work their jobs, while remaining committed to help others and give back. While I haven't done anything like what these women have done, in my heart I know that my desire to serve others has caused me to join their ranks. While I don't have the goal of being given some sort of award for being who I am, I know that it is time to let my heart for service to others take over my life more completely.

Somehow I've managed to attend an average of 3 yoga classes per week, and each class is a blessing in some way. One class was about using the body as a compass. Yet another connected me to the dissonance of some anger that I had buried deep within me. In yet another class I found myself practicing next to Michael Franti. It took me 24 hours to realize who he was (I am so glad I didn't know who he was while we were practicing, and yet he radiates a palpable good energy that I couldn't help but notice), and lately I've been experiencing the gift of his music. His message is one of love and change, a passion for living in such a way that makes a difference by bringing people together and breaking down barriers, a fitting soundtrack for the thoughts that move me into action and connections with like-minded others.

I've also been given an Ayurvedic plan that has transformed how I eat. This plan has worked better than anything I have ever tried. And although I have been losing weight, that doesn't feel like the goal. Oprah has been talking about the work of Geneen Roth, who says it's not about the food/eating. In the current issue of Oprah Magazine, Thich Nhat Hanh talks about eating being a meditation. I have gained so much information about diet and exercise over the years, and yet it has hit me in a profound way that I have paid precious little attention to what I put into my body and how I prepare it/how it has been prepared for me. The Ayurvedic consultant I have been working with on this plan has me making my own herbal water and spice mix, preparing my own lunch with fresh vegetables and rice, taking time to eat my food in a quiet space and giving thanks, as well as experimenting with recipes while getting to know the foreign space that is my own kitchen. My kitchen smells so good now due to the various spices, which I get from the organic bins of my food co-op. I've also been playing with recipes from the Jamie Oliver "Food Revolution" cookbook, such as last night's Asian Chicken Noodle Broth, which Jamie claims to be as good as anything one might find at a "posh noodle bar", and I quite agree.

This week ahead will pose one of the bigger challenges to my yoga practice. I will be taking a Welcoming the Spring Kundalini Intensive that meets for the next 6 days from 5 a.m. to 7:30 a.m.

Dear Spring - I welcome you with open arms and heart...

Be Your Own Valentine

2010-02-14T09:53:00.000-08:00

Isn't it time that we lovingly
freed ourselves from the beloved and, quivering, endured:
as the arrow endures the bowstring's tension, so that
gathered in the snap of release it can be more than
itself. For there is no place where we can remain.
Rainer Maria Rilke, Duino Elegies

This is a quote from a yoga workshop that I took this weekend - it was called "Heart's Balm". For years I have loved a man who does not love himself, and I have finally reached the point where I love myself and my life too much to travel into the pit of despair with him. If the love we feel for another person causes us to be unloving to ourselves, it is unbalanced and causes us to fall.

In another yoga class this week, the teacher said that the heart is naturally meant to be open, but so many things in this world have taught us to close our hearts to protect them. And so she asked us to find the places where it felt good to keep our hearts open. The next day I received an email from the Daily Om that was entitled "Open Heart" and opens with these words: Approaching life with an open heart means that we have opened the door to a greater consciousness within ourselves.

When I was looking for valentines for my 10 year old son to pass out to his classmates, I was dismayed at the lack of choices. I couldn't buy Toy Story or Hello Kitty valentines for a 10 year old boy, and while my colleague's suggestion of rain forest valentines for my budding environmentalist was the perfect but nonexistent option, I settled for "Bakugan" valentines. As my son dutifully signed his name to the Bakugan valentines, he asked me why he was doing this if he didn't have a "Valentine". I explained that it is yet another opportunity to give kindness, such as when we wish someone a nice day. He agreed with that idea, and I thought to myself that we should teach our children more about being their own valentine before urging them to search for a valentine. The more loving attention we give ourselves, the more we have to give others.

Melody Beattie writes in "The Language of Letting Go" (Daily Meditations for Co-dependents) that recovery is like a bridge that we cross from a place of cold and dark pain into the warm light of healing. We may try to convince those who are still in a dark place of pain to travel with us, but they may not be ready for the journey at that point. No one can be dragged or forced across the bridge of healing and help. We can love those people from the light without guilt, and perhaps some day they will be encouraged by our waves and cheers a place of light and love.

I have been struggling lately with guilt because I have so many resources available to me while someone I love feels he has no resources. But I know that healing takes risks and openness. There are always resources if we are willing to find them. Faith takes beliefe without proof. Opening our hearts is incredibly scary, but the more our hearts are broken, the more they expand. I am starting to feel the truth of this with much heartwork through yoga. I can have the worst of days and yet still find peace, such as the other day when I dared myself to go to Candlelight Vinyasa Yoga and found a new friend from Alanon there. Yet another reminder that I am on the right path, my own path, of healing.

Patti Digh, who wrote "Life is a Verb" and inspires me regularly, posted this quote on Facebook for Valentine's Day:
If you're really listening--if you're awake to the poignant beauty of the world, your heart breaks regularly. In fact, your heart is made to break, its purpose is to burst open again and again so that it can hold evermore wonder." -Andrew Harvey

surrendering to imperfection

2010-01-23T09:46:00.000-08:00

When you have been a perfectionist most of your life, the concept of imperfection is a foreign one. It almost feels like giving up on ideals and high standards when really it is more about letting other things and people work throughout a situation and embracing the beauty of that which is imperfect and real and in the moment. The pursuit of perfection is relentless, endless and prolongs any sense of gratification or peace in the moment. Imperfection allows for the raw beauty of what is.

On Facebook the other day this quote was posted: When you surrender to the wind, you can ride it. Toni Morrison. Surrendering isn't the same as giving up. It is letting go of the illusion of control and working with the Universe.

I found a book called, "The Spirituality of Imperfection: Storytelling and the Search for Meaning", by Ernest Kurtz and Katherine Ketcham. The back cover states: "'I am not perfect' is a simple statement of profound truth, the first step toward understanding the human condition - for to deny your essential imperfection is to deny your own humanity." A quote from inside the book: "The spirituality of imperfection speaks to those who seek meaning in the absurd, peace within the chaos, light within the darkness, joy within the suffering, without denying the reality and even the necessity of absurdity, chaos, darkness and suffering."

Spirituality is about healing. This makes sense to me when I go to Alanon and there is room for what I believe. I don't have to believe what everyone else believes in order to belong. I am able to live my own relationship with my Higher Power. And room is made within me for grace to work its mystery.

I've been having a hard time deciding how our schedule needs to work. After being told a few months back that it is impossible to find an accordion in Milwaukee, I found a used accordion that my son can use for free (the problem being that he needed a youth, or 12 bass accordion, to start out on and I didn't want to have to buy an instrument for the short time before he would outgrow it) and a teacher, who happens to teach piano at my son's school (but I found her elsewhere). When my son brought home the accordion, he played "Hot Cross Buns" for me and his father. I especially loved how he improvised a little bow at the end of his performance.

The way that things came together was amazing, mostly because the offer of the accordion came the same day that I decided to let go of worrying how to make it happen. And then once it did come together, I worried that he would stick with it and I started asking myself how I could be a better example to my son in terms of living and practicing my own passion.

But first I had to narrow it down. I am interested in so many things; the many stacks of books to read attest to that. In the past few years I have tried martial arts, belly dancing, boot camp, creative writing, knitting, zen meditation, hula hooping, NIA, dream work, rock climbing, and more. I am still interested in many of these things. I still find value in zen meditation. I write down my dreams in the book next to my bed upon waking. I will always find time to write, in various forms, whether it be blogging, journaling, facebook statusing, writing poems, etc. The woman who led the creative writing lab that I was in a few months ago told me that she had some ideas for where I could submit my work. I may still do that. I thought about joining my friend's hula hooping class which is on my one off day, the one day where I don't have to get up in the morning to go to work. I signed up for a Chinese class, something I have always wanted to do.

Now I have decided not to go to any groups or classes for the above mentioned interests. I have decided to focus on my main passion, yoga. Yoga is my main meditation practice, the one thing over the past 9 years that has always made sense when nothing else did. I would like to go to more classes. I just finished a book called "Yoga From the Inside Out: Making Peace with Your Body through Yoga" by Christina Sells. I'd started it quite a long time ago, and it was finally time to finish it. I've been waiting until I had the perfect body for yoga before going to more classes and pursuing more intensified training. Sell's book is filled with anecdotes of woman who made peace with their bodies after years of eating disorders and being at war with their bodies.

So I've decided to take my imperfect body and hit the mat amongst the seemingly perfect bodies. I bought an unlimited membership, a rather monumental decision for me because of the implied commitment, the lack of schedule (it's not like a class that I have to go to because of paying for a whole class), the money. It's only $35 more per month than if I continue to go to just one class per week. And the funny thing was that once I announced my intention on Facebook, I was asked the one question I didn't want to answer. How much is it? And then I realized that "luxuries" are different for different people. I don't go out to the bars, which I consider to be very expensive, and yet it's not something that people tend to think of as a luxury. But really, I don't have to justify this to anyone.

I've also found a teacher training program that would involve a 10 month, 1 weekend a month commitment that would be doable with my family and my 2 jobs. I don't feel that I need to have the goal of becoming a yoga teacher at a studio in order to do it. It would be a neat way of immersing myself in the foundations of yoga philosophy. I am going to start with an Ayurveda consultation and think about it some more. There is a studio in town that has the goal of bringing yoga into the public school and working with at-risk kids, something I could get really passionate about.

Meanwhile, I will keep the simple goal of getting to a yoga class whenever I can. That is enough for right now. I will try not to make it about the number of classes I make it to per week. The other day I found myself racing to a class, almost running over some people (wearing black and crossing in the middle of the street) and being run over myself, and thinking now this is crazy! Why am I doing this just to get some peace?! And yet once I got to the mat, almost ready to throw up because of how warm it was in the room, I started to connect my mind to my body again and feel my energy flow again. At the end of the evening I had found the tiniest cloud of peace, and that was enough.

letting go

2010-01-10T19:49:00.000-08:00

Tonight at Alanon I experienced what felt like my 100,001st lesson in letting go. I felt like confetti should fall out of the sky and I should be offered some sort of cash reward. But alas, it's an old lesson. And yet with new awareness. While I may be a good teacher and leader and organizer, I have a lot to learn about letting people go in order to be where they need to be.

Tonight I thought about how I am always telling my mother lately how she should relax due to her high blood pressure. When my boyfriend came over to help our son with a project, I started asking him all kinds of questions about what he has been doing while offering him ideas of things to do. Once again I am reminded that it is not my job to fix everyone around me. My Higher Power doesn't tell me what I should be doing; I am allowed to make my own mistakes in my own timing.

Yesterday my son did not want to go to our first cross country skiing lesson. He even told me that I was not his favorite mother that day (and I am his only mother). When he is unsure of what an experience will entail, he resists and decides he will not enjoy it. For my part, I try to shoe horn him into an experience in order to make him enjoy it. Since I have been cross country skiing before, I was telling him what to do. It seemed to come naturally to him, and he was starting to enjoy himself. And then we reached the big hill, which in reality is not a big hill at all in the grand scheme of things. We had to walk sideways up the hill before skiing down. I didn't want to ski down at all, being afraid of heights. So I focused my attention (and my anxiety) on my son, who started to struggle because he was taking big steps, and he was starting to slide back down the hill. Just then, one of my skis came off my boot, so I was busy trying to get my ski back down as I helplessly watched him slide all the way back down. One teacher ended up going to help him, while the other told me to ski down. As I came back to the hill, my son was still struggling. I heard him exclaim: I have had quite enough of this! So I told him to breathe. After a moment, he went over to the hill and started going up again. The teacher (and I of course had to chime in as well) told him to go to the part where there were several grooves/tracks to follow, but he insisted on doing it his way from where he was. And he made it work. At first I had my heart in my mouth as he made his descent, afraid he'd fall and hate cross country skiing forever. He did fall, laughing. And somehow it was bliss to watch him ski down while yelling "Geronimo"! So the next time he made his attempt up the hill, I decided to ski around the soccer field on my own and enjoy a moment to myself while he enjoyed his moment. Once I stopped trying to manage his experience, I felt like I was truly with him.

The thing is that we can only truly help others by helping ourselves, especially if they are not asking for our help. By letting go of a moment and not trying to control it, we allow ourselves to be in that moment with our loved ones. Loving unconditionally means not trying to change or fix anyone. What they do isn't about us anyhow. Letting go takes love. And loving means letting go. I don't think I will be done learning this lesson any time soon...

hibernation

2010-01-08T08:39:00.000-08:00

Our wishes foretell the capacities within ourselves: they are harbingers of what we shall be able to accomplish. What we can do and want to do is projected in our imagination, quite outside ourselves, and into the future. We are attracted to what is already ours, in secret. Thus passionate anticipation transforms what is already possible into dreamt-for reality." ––Goethe

It's been a while since I've blogged, and I am not entirely sure why. The holidays were quiet, and my friends said that our Christmas smiles were the biggest ones they had seen us in a while. I had knitted father and son hats, and both father and son have been wearing both of said hats with a show of pride. I of course continue to notice the mistakes I made, but I realize that each day I give them imperfect stitches of love.

I tend not to make resolutions on New Year's Eve; rather, I start making resolutions during my birth month in November as I ponder the year of life to come. I think about all the things that have come to fruition in the previous year as I ponder my future goals. I went to an advising appointment to find out about getting my teaching certificate. I thought that because I have a master's degree, I would have to pay grad school fees, and thankfully this is not so. However, it doesn't feel fair that I have to do student teaching when I have already taught for 7 years at the college level and another 8 years of elementary school (grades 1 through 8). While it would be nice to finish the teaching degree that I started, I rather think there is something else I am meant to be doing in my community.

This week brought a unique opportunity - on the heels of my boyfriend saying: "The future is an untold story that we are not meant to understand." While I didn't have money budgeted for the conference, I sent in my payment and registration that same day anyhow, deciding that the money will somehow work out. The conference is called:
"The Power of Storytelling to Build Healthier Bodies and Communities"
This theme is right in line with the curriculum work that I have done over the past few years, for I have felt that yoga and storytelling are creative vehicles for more effectively teaching language. It also brings in my personal themes that I have been exploring through dreamwork and creative writing. The conference is described as one for educators, parents, healing professionals, community leaders and artists, and the keynote speaker Nancy Mellon has written a book called "Body Eloquence: The Power of Myth and Story to Awaken the Body's Energies". One chooses 3 out of 18 fantastic workshops. I am beyond excited, for something in me knows that this is what I need for the next step.

During this time of hibernation I have been going to Alanon. At the most recent meeting I attended I realized just how good it felt to be in a group of people who didn't get mad at me for talking about the elephant in the room. The yoga alchemy class (which always goes over an extra 45 minutes) I have been attending has also been healing. The other day I went with the attitude that it was enough that I showed up and I shouldn't have to do anything I didn't feel like doing. When handstands were mentioned, I groaned inwardly. I've done them, but I don't enjoy them. Instead we did headstands, and I again thought to myself with the stubbornness of a little girl: "No, I don't have to do this if I don't want to!" I decided to go through the motions and pretend that I was making an effort. And seemingly with little effort, I was suddenly doing a headstand without assistance, and it felt good! And then an unexpected gift came in the form of the Wii that my son received for Christmas. At my brother's house I saw how active the Wii can encourage you to be, so I decided to get the Wii Fit and have been hula hooping almost every day since. I didn't realize that the Wii Fit comes with a personal trainer: my 9 year old who is quite an encouraging little force.

If there is one resolution I have for the new year, it is the typical one of eating better and working out more. But I've decided that there must be more room for PLAY this year... So with that in mind, my son and I will be taking some cross country skiing classes together. I will also be taking a Chinese language class, and he will be starting accordion lessons...

solstice thoughts

2009-12-21T08:36:00.000-08:00

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show. Andrew Wyeth

This weekend I went on two solstice walks. The first was with my son after we had been to our fencing class (which I am learning to love, now that I see how my yoga and Tai Chi are helping me), and we found one of our favorite lake parks deserted, with an utter made-to-order silence about it. It seemed as though everything was quite dead, until my son pointed out the cracks in the river ice, where the water could be seen and heard babbling. I was reminded that this is the season of quiet contemplation, where the dead things we no longer need fall away, if only we can let them go. It is a time when space is made for new beginnings. As we made our way to the beach, we found the waves roaring and crashing. Underneath all that seems dead, life continues to pulse.

That night we went for a candlelight solstice walk at the Urban Ecology Center: my mother, my son, my boyfriend and a couple of friends. It was icy and a bit dangerous as we walked about in the dark, and somehow it felt like we each had our own journey in the snow dotted with pricks of candlelight under a dark sky, and yet we were also together in this journey. My mother told me later that she has felt depressed about the family things that are now starting to get better, but the candlelight walk when my son held her hand - and my words held her hand - was greatly encouraging to her.

Lately I've been thinking about how much I've learned these past few years, how I've filled my toolbox with coping skills. And yet I recently reached a point where things in my family felt so out of control, that I felt forced to my knees. It has taken me until now to feel grateful for all that has happened the past few months that has allowed me to come to a place of letting go and letting grace in. I wouldn't have been able to see the beauty of what is now happening to heal us.

I have been the daughter of an alcoholic, who died of the disease, all of my life. Now I am learning about recovery by supporting my son's father while not contributing to the problem yet loving him imperfectly, but deeply. I've learned to take care of myself, and yet making use of those tools is a daily endeavor. I know that when I take care of myself, I am better equipped to support my loved ones.

After a day that included a knitting class where I met a really neat Native-American storyteller, and then handwork group at my friend's Buddha-filled and artfully decorated home which was a delight for the senses, I went to Alanon. I'm grateful to have returned to this support system, where others understand just how hard it is to let go and allow for grace to work. I haven't been drinking lately, not because I have trouble controlling my drinking, but because alcohol hasn't been a great friend to my life. Experiencing certain social situations without alcohol allows me to see things without dulled senses. It's interesting to see which friends seem uncomfortable if I don't feel like drinking, as though it somehow has something to do with them.

Last night at Alanon we talked about step 3, which is about relinquishing control and letting God as we understand Him/Her work. I've been anxious the past few weeks, especially as the holidays make their not-so-stealthy approach. I'm grateful for all the reminders in my life to let go and make room for joyful play. Just because people seem to think I can "do it all" at work and home doesn't mean that this is a healthy balance to maintain. My mother was frustrated at handwork group because she hasn't been able to start and see a project through. She has so much handworking experience that she has felt she should be doing more difficult projects. Instead we urged her to do a simple project, such as the felted purse that I was working on, one that she can then embellish with her own creative touches.

As I finished my purse that same night, I thought about how you can only do one stitch at a time. Keeping it simple while I knit allows me to knit a new way of thinking, while also relaxing me and calming my monkey mind. Knitting one stitch at a time is a lesson in grace, one that allows for imperfect stitches. All I have is this moment, this day, to embrace serenity.

Bones
In the winter
things are reduced
to essentials. We see
the cones of the land, the bones
of the trees, the stark elegance
of the underlying structure
of life. And we see the frailty
of our own soft flesh, the brittle,
yet lasting structure
of our own bones -
our bid for eternity.
Jessica Macbeth

unraveling

2009-12-10T11:26:00.000-08:00

The day I mentioned unraveling, I found a passage from a Pema Chodron piece called "Vast Blue Sky", from an interview with Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche:

He said "...You have to understand that even though you make a lot
of mistakes and you mess up in all kinds of ways, all of that is
impermanent and shifting and changing and temporary. But
fundamentally, your mind and heart are not guilty. They are innocent."

So guiltlessness is very important in the subject of dissolving or
burning up the seeds of aggression in our own hearts and our own
minds.

Most of the striking out at other people, for us in this culture,
comes from feeling bad about ourselves. It makes us so wretched and so
uncomfortable that it sets off the chain reaction of trying to get
away from that feeling. It's some very very habitual thing that
happens.

...But somehow, if at that moment, you were to pause, and start breathing
and let the whole thing unwind and unravel, and hang out in the
impermanent yet ineffable space - if you were to do that you might
realize that all of this blaming of other people, when you went into
it deeper, you would see that the seed of it was really some deep
discomfort and aggression about yourself.

And if you went more deeply into that, you would probably find sadness.

And I quote this so much, this Poem of Rick Fields, where he said:

Behind the hardness there is fear
And if you touch the heart of the fear
You find sadness (it sort of gets more and more tender)
And if you touch the sadness
You find the vast blue sky

I always feel that somehow you have to reframe that bad feeling - so
that you see it as a doorway to liberation, as an opening to the vast
blue sky.

A teaching by Pema Chödrön
excerpted from a talk entitled "Practicing Peace in Times of War"
published by Shambhala Publications

I've been trying to apply this teaching to my life as I work through painful family stuff. I know that it's not fair to be blamed for a communication problem for it takes two to tango. I know that it's not fair to be labeled passive aggressive by someone who is also passive aggressive. Ironically, playing the victim and blaming another person for an entire situation is - passive aggressive.

But it really does no good to try to get another person to see what they bring to a given situation. You can only sit with and deal with your part by making the choice of growth.

Just when I was feeling most wretched about all of this, I received an email from a friend called "Forgiveness and Reuniting". My friend wanted to let me know that I had inspired her to think differently about a hurtful situation she was in, and she was able to find healing and forgiveness and make her way to a better situation with those people. I was so grateful for the gift of her sharing. She added that when she starts to be overwhelmed by negative thoughts, she hits a pause button and puts on a favorite song and pictures a special place, while visualizing the situation in a positive way.

So I've started to play the song "Imagine" by John Lennon in my head whenever I feel hurt and helpless. This was my father's favorite song. I then picture myself in one of the places I have traveled to with my son: twilight on a beach in Costa Rica, the harbor in Barcelona, getting to the other side of the Golden Bridge.
And I'm starting to put the people I feel hurt by into bubbles of healing, rather like snow globes, letting them go. There is something about falling snow that brings me to a place of peaceful silence. Driving in a blizzard is scary due to the lack of visibility and the possibility of icy patches. And yet the snow continues to fall softly and silently, always beautifully, no matter what we do.

Another song that was a gift today: The Melismatics' "Digging Deep".

target practice

2009-12-03T05:29:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I received a Daily Om reading about not being a target. I found this so helpful because of a family situation that has left me baffled and deeply hurt.

From the Daily Om:

Hurtful confrontations often leave us feeling drained and confused. When someone attacks us emotionally, we may wonder what we did to rouse their anger, and we take their actions personally. We may ask ourselves what we could have done to compel them to behave or speak that way toward us. It’s important to remember that there are no real targets in an emotional attack and that it is usually a way for the attacker to redirect their uncomfortable feelings away from themselves. When people are overcome by strong emotions, like hurt or anguish, they may see themselves as victims and lash out at others as a means of protection or to make themselves feel better. You may be able to shield yourself from an emotional attack by not taking the behavior personally. First, however, it is good to cultivate a state of detachment that can provide you with some protection from the person who is attacking you. This will allow you to feel compassion for this person and remember that their behavior isn’t as much about you as it is about their need to vent their emotions.

As a recovering people pleaser I find it hard to recognize when someone is attacking me because of something that has to do with them and not me. My first impulse is to try and adjust my behavior so that the other person won't be upset. But this does not and should not work. Being compassionate does not mean allowing others to use you for target practice.

I went to a very challenging Anusara class last night, and the teacher talked about how our bodies take shape based on habitual postures. She suggested that making intentions could be viewed in this way, and she urged us to feel our intentions as we moved our bodies into the poses. Just that morning I'd decided to do my sun salutation while thinking of different friends with each one. It was interesting to note that the postures felt different as I thought of that particular person. So last night my intention was to be gentle to myself, and I felt my body expand to make room for some much-needed gentleness. The family situation I've been in has kept me up nights lately, and it is time to completely let it go and stop assuming it's all my fault. It's time to stop letting people use me for target practice just because I'm supposedly a stronger person.

I had to unravel a knitting project several times. I couldn't see my own stitches because I'd started with black wool. My needles were too short, so everything was getting all scrunched and bunched up. Of course I can't resist the metaphor. The old patterns aren't serving me well, and it's time for some new tools. A friend suggested tying a knot and hanging on. I love that, but I've also learned how to weave in the loose ends and knots.

birth celebrations

2009-11-22T16:59:00.001-08:00

As I've already mentioned, I try to celebrate my whole birth month rather than focusing on just one day. This started due to numerous bad memories but has become about something deeper, for I now take the time to ponder the past year of lessons, hardships and blessings. This is a time for setting intentions for the next year of life.

The older I get, the less I care about what others think. The more I do what I want. The more I enjoy my life. The more I appreciate others. The less time I waste. The less time I spend on wondering what if. I act more than I think. Sometimes.

I went to New York City for the first time this month. I've been to many world cities but have somehow neglected this major city. I've been to the JFK of course, but I'd never been in the city itself. The timing was right because a friend of mine who is an artist living with her boyfriend in Brooklyn had invited me, and my friend from Berlin was doing a 3 month internship. I decided not to take my son so I could have more adult time with my friends, but I missed him terribly. I saw so many things that I couldn't wait to tell him and his father.

The first day was about delays. My boyfriend came to pick me up and somehow understood how much I enjoyed being seen off at the airport by him. He sent me a few text messages reminding me to enjoy my pre-birthday celebrations. I used the three hour delay in Milwaukee airport to finish my British murder mystery and the latest Oprah. I got into Laguardia around 8, when I was picked up by Jason and driven to Brooklyn, where we had Peruvian chicken before heading out for a beer at a bar called Matchless, which of course made me think of match.com. I noticed in passing that Brooklyn hipsters aren't especially different from Milwaukee hipsters.

The next day we went to the farmer's market in Union Square. While it was quite nice, it wasn't nearly as big as the one in Madison. I had to resist buying some sheep's wool in funky colors, for I have plenty of wool and supplies already! We spent the afternoon in Soho art galleries before having British fish and chips at a colorful little place called Salt and Battery. It was raining lightly when we headed into Central Park, and I enjoyed the fall colors against the rain-washed city backdrop. That's when it really started to rain hard, and by the time we made it to the Met where you can "pay what you can", we were soaked. I was grateful for the chance to sit in a Japanse-style garden to dry out in the museum. Unfortunately, many others had the same idea. That night we went for French food but encountered such a waiting list that we headed to an Australian bar called the Wombat. We then ended up at a Mexican restaurant where I asked for a margarita the size of my head and elicited quite a chuckle from the waiter. I got an ordinary-sized tamarind margarita which tasted extraordinary. My friends ordered something called "chile y nogolo" which was brilliant. That was certainly a lesson in adventurous ordering!

On Sunday after going to the neighborhood organic deli bodega for coffee, a concept I hadn't seen before, we went to Chinatown for soup noodles. These are essentially dumplings filled with soup that you poke a hole into so as to let the steam out before placing the whole thing in your mouth, where it then explodes with hot flavor. From there we headed to a Chinese store called Pearl Harbor, a former bike messenger store called Yellow Rat Bastard (where I found a small adult NY grey sweatshirt with a cool punk label on the inside plus unique stitching for Gustav - which was the surprising favorite gift), and the Housing Works bookstore (the proceeds go to victims of AIDS). Later we would have bubble tea at the St. Alp's tea house in St. Mark's, which is apparently where the New York punk scene started, plus hit the Strand bookstore (where I was spotted by a Milwaukee acquaintance whom I later ran into at a Dinosaur Jr. show once I got back home) and the Forbidden Planet comic bookstore. That night my friend tried to teach me a cooking lesson in preparing brussel sprouts - one that I'd requested. Alas, I was on sensory overload and would have happily collapsed into the couch instead. That, and I have a fear of big kitchen knives. All the foodies I know seem to wield big kitchen knives in the kitchen!

On Monday I spent 10 hours by myself learning my own way around. I have always felt that the best way to get a new city is on foot and by getting lost. After my friend pointed out a good bagel place, I had my first New York City bagel - with lox. I can see why they are so good - chewy on the inside and crispy on the outside.

And then I went museum hopping, which means that I was in heaven for much of the day: Solomon R. Guggenheim (Kandinsky); Smithsonian/Cooper-Hewitt Design Museum (Design for a Living World); and the Rubin Museum of Art (Jung's "Red Book" and Art of the Himalayas). When I was in grad school, my focus was on the Expressionist movement, so I fell in love with Kandinsky all over again, especially a piece called Moscow. I almost didn't look into the Cooper-Hewitt, which someone from Milwaukee had recommended to me. Ten leading designers were asked to develop new uses for sustainably grown and harvested materials in order to tell a unique story about the life-cycle of materials and the power of conservation and design. The featured designers and places include Yves Behar/Costa Rica; Stephen Burks/Australia; Hella Jongerius/Mexico; Maya Lin/Maine; Christien Meindertsma/Idaho; Isaac Mizrahi/Alaska; Abbott Miller/Bolivia; Ted Muehling/Micronesia; Kate Spade/Bolivia; and Ezri Tarazi/China. The photo essay which accompanied the exhibit was especially powerful. The Cooper-Hewitt museum shop is truly great fun, featuring wax crayons from Germany, masking tape from Japan, unusual gadgets and gizmos, wacky fashion pieces. I had squash soup and a turkey chutney sandwich in the cafe where I could look out the window onto the courtyard.

My friend took a break from work and got me onto a bus that took me to where I could walk to Times Square/Broadway. I found Junior's cheesecake shop and decided the raspberry swirl cheesecake would be my (first) birthday cake. An exceptionally large pigeon decided to join me. On the table. With an eye on my cheesecake. It was the most intense stare down that I think I've ever participated in. All the more intense because of course pigeons don't blink. From Broadway I walked 30-plus blocks to the Rubin Museum. I was fascinated by the beginnings of Jung's cosmology - his drawings and calligraphy were certainly unique. Apparently they were the result of a "creative illness" or "encounter with the unconscious". The family sought to suppress the publication of the book. I've always been drawn to mandalas and have decided to learn more when I have the opportunity. And since I am keeping my own dream book, his was certainly inspiring, although I am not quite sure how. I enjoyed the Himalayan art as well, especially the informative overview that accompanied the pieces.

I decided to use the map to find my way to St Mark's, where I was to meet the others for soba noodles. I was a bit over-confident though and kept getting lost, while finding places I'd been to over the weekend! A crazy person stopped to ask if I needed directions. I suppose I shouldn't call him crazy, but he did start talking about the 20's and 30's and Katharine Hepburn. I thanked him for his help and hastily made my way towards the East Village, as I'd been wandering around the West Village without knowing it. I was an hour early and decided to wander 9th street, which is where I found the Ukrainian restaurant Veselka and had a cheese blintz appetizer...delicioso! But dinner was truly amazing: Saki with monkfish liver pate and devil's tongue starch with ponzu sauce for starters. Curry chicken with green onion soba noodles. I am running out of adjectives for how delicious this was! We then decided to each order a different dessert despite having already eaten more than enough, thus inviting yet another feast for the senses!

That was the night of the Jesus Lizard show. I didn't know much about the band, other than that they were Kurt Cobain's favorite band and this was their reunion tour. The funniest thing was that after I ordered my ticket for the New York concert online and started planning my trip, their Milwaukee concert to be held at the venue where I work was announced, so I will be seeing them again next week!

As I was standing towards the rather packed front, waiting for the band to go on, I started to ask myself what I was doing so close to the front. I am a bit claustrophobic and was really starting to feel hemmed in at this point. Within moments of the show starting, the lead singer had thrown himself into the crowd. After his shin was in my face, I had to ask myself what on earth I was doing. I have been in mosh pits and have nothing to prove. And that's when I thought to myself: I am a Mom! I need to get myself to the back! But my worst idea was turning around and heading into the guys who were pushing forward. I enjoyed the concert from the back immensely, feeling no shame for my abrupt exit from the pit. Part of my personal fabric are the patterns of the punk scene. I'd rather be around guys who are a bit rough around the edges and yet truly sweet on the inside...instead of hipster guys who focus more on the outside. A generalization to be sure... And while I don't go out very much, there is something about loud music that serves as a good outlet for stress!

The evening ended with us cramming into a subway and making a mad dash into a bar to go to a bathroom. I am amazed at the lack of clean bathrooms in NY, being used to the plentiful and clean bathrooms in the Midwest. We made good use of the bar's photo booth, and on the walk home, we had the good fortune to hit the Korean market where I scored "Kinder surprise eggs" for Gustav!

I learned many things this past weekend in New York. There is a time for excitement and a hectic pace, and a time for quiet solitude. The older I get, the more I learn about going with the flow. Being open to adventure. Living my truth. Trusting my inner compass. Appreciating the differences in my friends. Opening my mind and heart to unexpected teachers. Discovering the colors against my own rain-washed backdrop. Paying attention to the symbols and that which fuels my creativity. I am the designer of my own sustainably grown life, harvesting and recycling materials for creative play.

circles

2009-11-04T05:14:00.000-08:00

It's November, and my friend Karen has challenged me to do one thing to celebrate each day of my/our birth month. I think I introduced her to this concept a few years when she still lived in Milwaukee. I started doing this after years of disappointing birthdays, for I feel that pinning one's hopes and expectations onto one day is simply a set-up for disappointment. And I'm not talking about disappointment in a material sense; I am talking about being remembered. Because of wacky family stuff, various family members have forgotten or ignored my birthday. So I do nice things for myself and expect less from others with each new year. I have to say that it's actually more fun this way. It takes the expectation off of others and empowers me to celebrate from within.

So on Sunday I went to a beginning knitting class. I've known how to knit for many years, but I always seem to forget things like how to cast on. It's embarrassing to have to ask for my mother's help with such things. Also, since I learned from my mother initially, I learned the Continental method and have been confused whenever I've knit with someone else. I told the teacher I was willing to learn the English method, and within moments she chuckled and pointed out that I was combining both methods and that it was perfectly fine for me to stick with the Continental method. Once that was settled, I started knitting on my own, clacking and clicking my needles with contentment, practically clucking to myself. In fact, after I'd been in the knitting shop for an hour, I asked if they'd just turned on the music. That's how absorbed I'd been. I get easily distracted, especially in meetings, so it's nice to have something like knitting to relax me. I knew I needed something like this, but I wasn't quite sure why. It's unusual for me to gravitate towards anything quite so feminine and dare I say, crafty. The teacher was talking about how knitting is like yoga, and I replied that knitting is much easier to put into a bag than yoga.

That night I decided to google knitting and meditation on a lark. To my surprise and delight I found several blogs and book references! Scientifically speaking, knitting *is* a form of meditation, as are many handwork activities, such as crocheting and weaving. But I already knew that. I love it when I listen to my instincts about what I need.

I've been trying to start a knitting/crafting circle, and many people have been telling me that they need this. And yet it's so hard trying to accommodate various schedules. Yesterday I was getting especially discouraged, and then in yet another moment of synchronicity, I received a Daily Om reading that was all about women's circles. This bit jumped out at me:
"At their best, women’s circles perfectly illustrate the idea that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. The work that can be accomplished within the loving embrace of our sisters is far more powerful than what we could achieve on our own. If you are not already part of a circle, you may want to start one. Follow your intuition as to the women with whom you’d like to work, reach out to them, and set a date to begin. After that, you can simply allow the circle to create itself."

My friend Ginger encouraged me last week by saying that the most important thing is to hold the space. Eventually those who need it will come. We women tend to schedule ourselves out of the very things we need in order to nurture ourselves. Last night in circle we were talking about how if we mention getting a massage or a pedicure, another woman will often say something to the effect of...oh, but *I* don't have time for something like that. What a luxury.
I think we should celebrate whenever we women do something good for ourselves!

Speaking of celebration: on Monday I celebrated November with a walk to City Market for falafel with rosewater lemonade and then coffee at Alterra with my male companion. (The older I get, the less I like the term "boyfriend"!) Yesterday I celebrated with wine and friends at knitting/crafting circle. The next one won't be for a while since I am going to NYC for my pre-birthday vacation! Today I will celebrate with my favorite Anusara yoga class after work. Perhaps I will even redeem my Anthropologie birthday coupon...or perhaps I should save that for tomorrow!

If only...

2009-10-30T06:44:00.000-07:00

I am in a meditation club, but I don't often get to make it because it's on Monday nights when I have work meetings/stuff. Somehow things worked out for this week and next week, and I am actually able to attend a 2 week module on the Buddha and Happiness. We were assigned the task of emailing with someone from class, someone whom we didn't already know, and sharing 3 things from each day that made us happy and grateful.

We also talked about "if only" thoughts and how such thoughts tend to limit or postpone our happiness. For example - I hear this one often - if only I lived somewhere else. I come from one of the most amazing cities in the world, in my opinion, but I don't waste too much time missing Berlin (although there are always waves of homesickness that come from time to time). I am content to be in Milwaukee here and now, for I have discovered many wonderful things in this city...so why waste time wishing I were somewhere else?

So that's an easy one for address. But there is one that I am noticing I struggle with on a daily basis. When I am feeling like I am in good shape, I have "if only I could lose 5 more pounds" thoughts. And when I feel like I am not in good shape, I have "if only I hadn't gained those 5 extra pounds" thoughts. I am starting to realize that I have this particular thought in some form ALL THE TIME.

All week I have been feeling tired because of a book that I am reading before I go to bed - it's called "The Way the Crow Flies" by Ann-Marie MacDonald and it is rather disturbing (fodder for a different blog post). So instead of working out when I feel tired, even though I know that working out always renews my sense of energy, I tell myself that I am too tired and before I know it, the thought "if only I felt more fit and in shape" has crept in and left. In the wake of that thought I've decided I am just not feeling "up to it". What the heck is up with that? And I see women doing it all the time. We delay our self-acceptance because we know we could be in better shape or improve our appearance in some way. There is always some improvement on the horizon...if only we had more time, energy, money, etc. Yet more "if only" thoughts...and there always seems to be one of those thoughts at the ready if one is able to defeat an if only thought.

I got together with some fellow Louise Erdrich fans. She is one of my favorite writers, and wow, has she been through some *stuff*, to say the least. This quote has been with me this week:

"Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or
left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could."
— Louise Erdrich (The Painted Drum)

No room for if only thoughts...so much life to be lived.

Guest House

2009-10-29T06:33:00.000-07:00

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

– Jelaluddin Rumi,translation by Coleman Barks

This is the full poem that I quoted from the other day. Last night I was trying to talk myself out of going to yoga. I was tired and droopy. My stomach didn't feel so great. I just wanted to go home and do nothing. But I had homework to do for meditation club. At the end of the day I had to write about three things that made me happy and grateful that day. I knew that if I went to yoga, I would feel better afterwards.

It was the first time I'd been at Anusara yoga class in quite a while because I've been going to writing lab. I can't quite keep up with my own interests lately: writing, meditation, knitting, yoga, poetry. Anusara is the yoga style that I like best so far because of how heart-centered it feels to me, and this particular teacher is joy-filled. She always has a theme for the class, and this helps me to contemplate what my body has experienced on a more meaningful level. It stays with me for a few days after the actual class at any rate.

So I was stunned that her theme for yesterday's class was the Rumi poem above. It was my Facebook status just last week. And now I've heard it in its entirety and am paying attention on yet another level. Tammy, the teacher, talked about how being open to what comes doesn't mean being a doormat and suffering through whatever comes. It means being open with faith that one can deal with whatever comes and experience the inherent blessings, no matter if the experience is one that brings joy or sorrow.

bad grades and mistakes

2009-10-28T11:15:00.000-07:00

After I wrote the post on straight A's, my son came home with a D-. It was a packet that he hadn't completed, and I told him that it's okay to ask for help in order to make sure one has fulfilled the requirements at hand.

Because I make such a big deal about how he must complete his homework diligently while doing his best, I decided that a "bad grade" is not something I wanted to give him a hard time about, certainly not if it's a one time thing. He takes these things to heart, and I don't want him to start a lifelong habit of beating himself up with "good" and "bad" labels.

I asked him how he felt about the D-. He said "So that's how it feels to get a D...that's interesting." He has no intention of getting more D's, but I found his attitude fascinating, certainly an attitude I can learn from.

I'm still working on the concept of dropping "good" and "bad" labels in order to truly sit with and learn from an experience. I was just thinking about a relationship I was in a couple of years ago. I thought of it as a failure because on paper it should have been an ideal match. But since it was the first real connection since leaving my ex, I figured it had to work or something was wrong with me. I didn't pay attention to the fact that I wasn't all that attracted to him or that he didn't really want to talk about anything in depth. I simply blamed myself because it didn't work. And now I am grateful for that "mistake".

straight A's

2009-10-15T09:04:00.000-07:00

This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor...Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.

- Rumi

I went to my son's parent-teacher conference last week and sat down with his teacher for the first time. I was probably one of the few parents who was able to speak German with the teacher, but this is not an easy task after a long Monday when one is fighting off a sinus infection. I tried not to worry about making any grammar errors - because as soon as you start to think about making errors, that's when you start making them!

The teacher told me that my son is getting all A's and is clearly an intelligent boy.

This brought on a flurry of feelings. One the one hand I was bursting with pride. I've always known he was smart, and I am glad that the teacher sees his potential. But as I told my son, this is a double-edged sword. It's certainly a good thing to be recognized for one's intelligence and one's efforts and rewarded with good grades. However, people will know when you are not doing your best because you are capable of that much more.

It's tempting to want to see the accomplishments of one's child as evidence that one is a good mother. Or to somehow take such compliments as though they were about oneself. If my son is smart, that must mean something good about me, right? But I want to help my son find out who he is, not who I want him to be.

An example: My son likes to make up games. He was playing with my brother one night, and my brother's wife was getting upset that my son was "cheating". I would be concerned if my son was trying to win. But what is interesting to me about the games he creates is that he changes the rules so that everyone can win. I think that for him games are like stories, and he is figuring out things and problem solving as he goes along.

He created a game the other night called "elemental stones". All the stones had a nature element, and there were different elemental effects when different stones were combined. It was such a complicated game that I had to have him write down the rules and I still don't quite get it.

For many people games are black and white. There are rules, and it has to be clear how you win. But to a child who wants everyone to win, I think a game can be a creative process that helps us figure out how we interact with one another more effectively. Given the problems our world faces, I think that we need young people who can think outside the box and color outside the lines.

When children are very young, it's so easy to get caught up in the developmental strides they make. We think it's a good sign if the child talks and walks early. If the child is in the high percentage for height and weight, that's important somehow too. Then we start to look at how well they do in sports and school subjects. And yet...Einstein didn't talk until he was 3, and he wasn't a very good student.

I asked my son the other day if he thinks his father and I want him to the best student he can be. He said yes, and I said that actually we want him to be the best Gustav he can be. And it has yet to be determined how to measure that...and I rather think I, a recovering over-achiever, am learning this about myself as well.

snow salutations

2009-10-14T08:43:00.000-07:00

It's quite chilly in Milwaukee, but if one more person says "We didn't have a summer", I may have a hissy fit. It's October. I would be quite concerned if it was still summer in October. But when I try to gently say, but it is October after all, the person says, "But it's not time for winter yet!" It has snowed in a few outlying areas.

So when I texted my companion that at least it wasn't snowing or raining here in Milwaukee just yet, he said, so what if it rains or snows? The world will be exactly what it needs to be in the moment.
He's quite right, of course.

And then I read an article about "Snow Salutations" by Alison Wearing in the November issue of Shambala Sun. The cover features one of my favorite Buddhist writers, Pema Chodron. I have been devouring the articles in this issue, slowly but surely. I don't have a subscription because I feel like I should read a magazine from cover to cover, and there isn't always time. But when I had a mammogram this week (a friend of mine aptly calls it the pancake machine), I brought the magazine to read in the waiting room, forgoing my guilty pleasure of reading People magazine on such occasions.

In "Snow Salutations" Wearing writes:

I could complain.
Until recently, I awoke to bougainvillea and birdsong, the reliability of hot sunlight lifting over the neighboring mountains. For 5 glorious years, Mexico cooed me out of bed with the promise of papaya and mango, freshly roasted coffee from a friend's garden, creamy ripe avocadoes, and cheese. There was the rustle of fringe-leaved banana trees, and the seduction of flowers in every imaginable color - fuchsia, magenta, vermilion, azure. It was a culture more prone to dance than depression.
Recently we returned to rural Ontario, to the snow and cold and a shy, reluctant sun. Here there are bare trees and a new color, gray - varieties of it everywhere. There's silence - the stillness of ice and a long, annual death. And there are people less inclined to spontaneous fiestas than to going home, closing the door, and staying there.

I've also been reading "When Wanderers Cease to Roam: A Traveler's Journal of Staying Put" by Vivian Swift. Swift lives on the edge of Long Island Sound after many years of wandering around the world. The book is about how she learns to appreciate staying put and what each season has to teach her. She says that winter is a season that brings out one's strength.

I would have to agree. The spiritual warrior can learn a great deal from the silence of winter.

Wearing goes on to write about doing snow salutations - her version of sun salutations in the snow - or snowga, as her partner calls it. She wrotes: I drop the labels and allow things to be as they are. Neither "right" nor "beautiful" nor "bloody cold." Just this moment, this life.

buffalo dreams

2009-10-12T13:11:00.001-07:00

I've been working on this poem for writing lab this week, and I had quite a bit of fun with it.

Buffalo Dreams
Home, home on the range
Where seldom is heard
A discouraging word.

Anyone who knows the wide open spaces
Remembers the claustrophobia of four walls
With faded wallpaper that belongs to strangers

Oh give me a home
Where the buffalo still roam

A couple sitting outside a baby blue trailer near the highway
Looks overhead as our roof,
Yet another unidentified flying object, goes by
Heading out West once again.
They are sipping Kool-Aid and as they see the roof of slate grey,
Each wonders if the other has slipped a shot of whiskey
Into the punch, thinking 'this is surely madness',
And slapping at yet another mosquito.

We forgot to laugh at the kitchen table
And started to settle for love on a takeout menu
Until the sight of the roofless sky made us laugh.

So I will bake the bread,
if you will butter it.
And as we lie on our backs, looking up at the
roofless sky
along with the birds who have joined us, with butter
dripping down our chins,
we will know that home
has arrived in our hearts
at long last.

And the bees and the butterflies play
For the skies are not cloudy all day.
kmh

distracted from and by my life

2009-10-11T14:43:00.000-07:00

This week has been all about distractions, or should I say, noticing more often how easily distracted I am.

I've had the movie "Precious" on my mind. In the film an obese African-American teenager experiences just about every abuse you can think of. Upon watching that movie, all I could think about were our failures as a society. In Milwaukee a few months ago there was a teenager who slashed her step-grandfather's throat, supposedly over a glass of milk. Anyone who knows anything about abuse knew that it had to be about more than just milk.

But focusing on the failures of our society distracts me from the successes...and doing what I can to impact positive change.

On Friday morning I was in a hurry, caught up in my head as usual. I was anxious about being late for coffee when my companion texted me to tell me to stop texting. He wanted me to arrive for our rendezvous in one piece. In my haste, I failed to notice that I'd parked across a driveway entrance. The $55 parking ticket was an expensive reminder to pay attention! At least I came before the tow truck did, and I had a chance to apologize to the woman who had missed her dental appointment thanks to me.

I went to the movies the other night - to see "Cloudy with a Chance of a Meatballs". Quite a funny film, especially if you are a non-conformist, or a foodie. (I am more of a non-conformist than a foodie, but only because I don't spend very much time in the kitchen!) I was amazed to see how many people arrived late for the movie, as well as how many parents do not discourage their children from talking during the movie. I was next to two little girls, whom I kindly attempted to shush when they sat down, still talking to one another. They looked at me like I had perhaps lost my way and ended up in the wrong movie. During the movie I heard their mother talking to them (not whispering), and it became quite clear why it hadn't occurred to them to be quiet during the movie. I also realized that I was letting them distract me from my enjoyment of the movie, that while I didn't have control over how much they talked, I only had control over how much I let them bother me.

The next day I saw Wendell Berry speak at the Urban Ecology Center. There I was distracted by a fussy baby behind me. My thoughts about what I imagine to be the reason for the noise are surely far more distracting than the actual noise. After the reading I realized that I need to practice listening more. I also realized that I need not try to catch every word that is spoken, for a reading given by the person who wrote the words is more about the feeling the words. I've always needed to see the printed page after a reading anyhow, so perhaps if I am not so distracted by the thought that I need to hear every word, I might lose myself in the poetry of the words.

My son and I went into the woods today. I've gotten tired of all the "what a crappy day" comments on Facebook. I decided that it would be a gorgeous day despite the chill, and the sun did indeed come out. I was enraptured by the fall colors...until I heard the guy on his cell phone. Why take a cell phone for a walk in the woods?

Before I can get to the Wendell Berry book "Bringing it to the Table: On Farming and Food", which I purchased at yesterday's reading, I am finishing "No Impact Man" by Colin Beaven. What intrigues me about this book is that it is not about deprivation, for it is about finding ways to make less of an impact on the environment while connecting more with others and enjoying life. There are altogether too many reasons one person cannot save the world. But I rather think that those are the reasons we become complacent and give up before we've started, stuck in the mire of our best intentions.

Recently I read somewhere that thinking too optimistically can be detrimental in the long run if there isn't room for realism. Idealism can lead the way to illusion. It seems ironic to me that there is a such thing as too much optimism and idealism in a world where pessimism is on every signpost, certainly every news program.

I am thinking about the death of the father of a former student of mine this weekend. While I didn't know him or his intentions for attending a 5 day warrior retreat that included the sweat lodge ceremony where he died, I wonder about a new age so-called spiritual leader who would charge over $9000 for such a retreat and who would leave the state without talking to the police after the event. I'm sure that this isn't the "promise to change your life" that he intended. What is the price tag of the so-called "answer" that may distract you from the truth of your life?

From "No Impact Man":
"By "groundlessness" she (Pema Chodron) mentioned the basic human state of not knowing -
not knowing, for example, the answers to questions like: What will happen to us when we die? And since we don't know what's happening next, it's hard to know what we should be doing now. So we don't really know what our lives are for...
Now there are a lot of stories we tell ourselves to try to make sense of what we don't know. We tell ourselves religious stories and family stories and success stories and all sorts of different stories. Lately, I've attached myself to stories about how everything will be fine if we just consume less. We tell ourselves such stories because we don't trust that we'll do the right thing if we simply accept the groundlessness of not knowing. Another Zen master once told me that this was the entire point of practice: to become comfortable with not knowing." Colin Beavan

(I was distracted at least 18 times during the writing of this post...)

mothers and fathers

2009-10-02T05:45:00.000-07:00

This powerful post on the "Are You There God, It's Me, Generation X" blog gave me much pause. If the link below does not work, it's called "Chasing Normal: Jon and Kate and a Pop-Up Trailer"

http://www.jenx67.com/2009/09/chasing-normal-jon-and-kate-and-pop-up.html

Apparently Jon is no longer an official part of the show. He has been acting more like a child than a father, but on the other hand, he is still the father of those 8 children. Fathers are once again on the outs and getting a bad rap. Some earn this justly, others unjustly. Perhaps because society's expectations are lowering, we are finding it easier to do away with fathers... What a sad state of affairs this is.

My parents divorced when I was 10, and my father deeply regretted the decision he made. He was ashamed that his life was going downhill, despite his genius IQ and a whole lot of potential. With every failure he gave up a little more. Of course we were lucky because we had the best Mom. But his absence was felt like a deep wound. He didn't pay child support, and at one point he found out that he could get money for my schooling. He collected it himself until they changed the requirements so that I had to collect it myself.

But despite all that, my mother never kept him from seeing us. It was his own pride that kept from that. There is much I would have traded just to have time with him. So when I read about women keeping their exes from their children, it fills me with a deep sadness. I think that men and women try to punish each other through their children, and this sort of battlefield has seen enough bloodshed without getting the children involved.

I've seen a couple of movies about bad fathers at the Milwaukee Film Festival this week. One was "Everlasting Moments", a Swedish film about a woman who finds a talent for taking pictures while having a whole lot of kids and being beaten by her drunk lout of a husband. The other movie was a Columbian movie about a woman and her two kids who are abandoned in Queens, NY by yet another no-good father.

And then the other day I saw an episode of "Holidate"... I know, it's not exactly high brow entertainment. Sometimes I need to watch something silly that doesn't require any thought. It's about women in different cities who find 3 bachelors for the other in their home city. They trade places for a week and open themselves up to a different landscape dating-wise. One woman says that her deal breaker is that she doesn't want to date a guy with kids. But then she meets a guy who has 2 kids. She doesn't meet the kids, but he tells her about how important his time with them is. He and his ex have a 50-50 custody situation. When it comes time to choose which bachelor to invite to her own city for another date, she surprises herself by choosing this guy. And she reveals through tears how she didn't grow up with a father and that her fear is if she has kids with someone and the relationship doesn't work out, the man will not be involved with the children.

If we want fathers to be more involved, we need to pay more attention to the good things rather than picking on all the deadbeats. A father's love isn't less important than a mother's love, although the bonds may be different. If it takes a whole village to raise a child, we need the whole village to heal.

Bliss

2009-09-29T09:09:00.001-07:00

Yesterday's post received a comment about bliss (thank you, Anne), so today's post is thus inspired.

This weekend at the dream workshops with Robert Moss we did a chakra exercise which he considers to be an individual systems diagnostic exercise, to see where one's energy may be at in regards to the issues/intentions at hand. Our ultimate destination was bliss, for this was an intention expressed by one of the participants the day before. We did seven meditations traveling through the seven different chakras so as to explore the landscape in each one and see if there were any allies or power animals to be found. I must add here that I am a die-hard skeptic, so if my description gives anyone pause to doubt, I am right there with you. Whether one regards such an exercise literally or not is not quite so important, at least not to me, for this is about playing with imagery on a journey of healing. Anything on the palette of life can help with navigation and exploration as far as soul work is concerned, whether to stay on course or change direction, take a break or forge on full speed ahead.

I found monkeys in my solar plexus power chakra and decided they could help me at work, which is where I experience the most stress. Since I work with male managers who think quite differently from how I think, I could use guidance from the monkey by learning to be more flexible, to swing from vine to vine with more grace and creativity (rather than staying fixed on any one situation or issue), and to climb to the very tops of the trees (like the canopy of the rain forest that I experienced in Costa Rica) for perspective. I also found a spider in a my root chakra, which was a bit scary until I realized she was sitting on jewels and weaving messages of wisdom for me.

Before we did these meditations, I'd noticed a yoga magazine in the bathroom that caught my attention. It was an old one, from the Spring of 2007. I only had time to catch this phrase in an article called "The Yoga of Pleasure" by Sally Kempton:
"It's a strange fact that many of us actually do believe that our practice is more "real" when we're having a hard time."

I just found the article online:
http://www.ievolve.org/articles/yoga/yoga-pleasure-sally-kempton

I didn't have time to read the article until after the meditations, but this is what I read afterwards about bliss:

The power of beauty and pleasure--whether the beauty of a human face, the pleasure of a good meal or a work of art or an ocean--is that it arrests us. The distraction and restlessness that often cuts us off from full engagement with the moment temporarily dissolves, and we are fully present--our consciousness literally aroused by the experience of something beautiful or delicious. That moment of inner arrest or arousal, the "Aha!" we feel, is a realization of the state that yogic sages call the bliss of wonder. It's the meeting point of sensory and spiritual experience. It's both the fruit of and the avenue into a fully awakened life. (Sally Kempton)

This spoke directly to the intention I'd set for the entire weekend. Last night I saw two festival movies that also spoke to where I am at in my life. The first one was called "Herb and Dorothy", about a couple of art collectors who lived frugally and bought art simply because they loved it. They made friends with all the artists they met and became an integral part of the New York artist community. They eventually amassed a collection that is probably worth millions, but as they said in the film, it was never about money, and they never allowed themselves to sell a single piece. They bought art out of love, and it made them happy to spend so much time with art.

I work for a woman who is very much like this, for she works tirelessly without thought of money to promote the arts in our community. I consider it a privilege to work for her and to have her in my life, and I had a chance to tell her this right after the film.

The other film that spoke to me was "No Impact Man", about a NYC man who decides to take his family through a year-long project to live sustainably and create as little waste as possible. I was struck by how much flack they got from the haters, even from environmentalists who felt that the family was simply trying to cash in on being green. For Colin Beavan it was all about being true to his integrity, not to deprive him and his family in order to live in misery, but to live a happy life while being less wasteful and leaving less of a carbon footprint. I thought about how people tend to react very strongly to lifestyle choices they cannot imagine living with, because of the deprivation they imagine having to undergo, although the lifestyle they are criticizing is not one they are being asked to live and is not hurting them in any way. And yet such reactions tend to be incredibly emotional.

I was especially taken by what the wife said towards the end of the film, (she was once a highly caffeinated self-proclaimed consumer of takeout and fashion, completely uninterested in nature) how she'd spent so much of her life looking for gurus. This project that forced her to live without caused her to look within and find unexpected bliss.

This blog entry from Colin Beavan was especially cool to find today:
http://noimpactman.typepad.com/blog/2009/09/dealing-with-how-may-i-help.html

I think that bliss resides within every one of us.

dream weekend in the country

2009-09-28T07:10:00.000-07:00

I've returned from an incredible dream work/playshop with Robert Moss in Oregon, Wisconsin in the beautiful studio of one of his dream teachers. Three years ago I attended my first Robert Moss workshop with different goals: severing ties with the ex J. and finding my soulmate. This time I returned with my ex who is no longer my ex, as well as our son. They hung out with Granny during the day on her land while I explored my dream images, particularly that of the octopus, to access deeper creativity. The morning we left, my son told me about a dream he had that morning, which I took with me to the workshop.

J. picked me up at the end of the first day; thankfully he didn't mind all the extra driving. Talking to him about all the things I'd learned during the drive was especially helpful and nice. We stopped in New Glarus and then got back to his mother's place in time to take a walk and watch the red sunset, before heading inside for wine and conversation. J. made delicious beets and kohlrabi, while his mother made quesadillas and told me about her sustainable organic farm dream. We seem to have left any conflicts we may have once had with one another behind, and now we've gotten to the fun stuff. I admire this woman for her courage to live her own life and dream, regardless of what her critics might have to say. She was saying that people often say that her life seems to involve so much work, due to all her animals, and she said to her it isn't work because it's what she loves to do. She apologized to me (unnecessarily) for the messiness of her house, saying she isn't much of a cleaner. This was quickly contradicted when her son asked how often she cleans her barn. Every day was the answer. To me this illustrates the importance of our priorities, regardless of the priorities others might consider to be important.

After a breakfast of banana pancake, J. took me to the workshop for a second day of dreaming work and play. I told Robert that my intention is to learn more about recognizing my boundaries while still giving my gift of empathy. I'd had a particularly intense experience during our last group dreaming session. So he started us with an incredibly helpful meditation called "The Unwanted Guest", where we found a difficult or overwhelming emotion/issue at the door and invited it in for tea (or other such things). We weren't to decide what would be at the door, but I knew I needed to sit down with Empathy for a chat. She entered my house like ink, coloring everything she saw black. I realized that Love is her sister, and that Love reminds me to keep the colors and details of my own house; there is much room for creativity in my house when I remember this.

There will be more to explore in the days to come, for this was a rich time of connection and sharing. We arrived back home in Milwaukee last night, ahead of the strong rain that was to come later in the evening. It took us a while to decide where to eat, but eventually we decided upon a traditional Ethiopian restaurant where we sat at a table that was like a basket with a base. The dome-like lid was opened for the insertion of a tray, upon which there was a large round crepe-like bread that filled the tray, with 5 different sauces/entrees that we then scooped and mixed with bits of bread. The Ethiopian tea, with hints of clove and cardamom, was the perfect complement to the sensory delights of this weekend. It was such a gift to have so much time to myself to do dreaming work that was sandwiched by family time and road tripping.

global union indeed

2009-09-20T20:35:00.000-07:00

This past weekend was one that I was both looking forward to and dreading.

On the one hand, I put in over 20 hours extra this past week due to rehearsals and performances of a modern dance piece inspired by our building. There were 6 pieces in the gym, and then one long piece in the ballroom. And I was supervising the ballroom, which meant unlocking and locking and then unlocking before locking yet again. I was getting so stressed out by finding doors unlocked after having locked them, that I realized there is something in this frustrating circumstance urging me to look at doors in my life differently.

On Friday I had to work until 10:30 and then pick up my son from his father's. I fretted about our fencing class the next day, and our fencing instructor told me we could come to the later class. And then my son's father suggested I wait to see when our son woke up the next day before making my decision. It was an important reminder to me to allow the planning in my head flow in reality. More often than not, what ends up happening is so much better than what I thought should happen...

Our jam-packed Saturday began with fencing. After class I had a conversation with someone, and our instructor showed my son how to spar with sticks, which looked like great fun. Then Gustav jumped up onto the trampoline and hung from the rings; I later realized this was one of the dance stations of that night's performance.

From fencing we went to the first day of Global Union concerts: 3 amazing bands from around the world. This was our third year of attending the festival, and I've been waiting all year. This festival simply does not disappoint. Even when it rains. Or one of the bands' visas do not come through. I've never seen a hat passed at a festival and seen it filled so quickly (this is a free festival of world class quality).

I saw a friend right away, and she was sitting with friends of hers. A couple of weeks ago I found myself next to a creative writing instructor, shortly before being asked to join a writing lab by another person. Well, on Saturday I met yet another creative writing instructor and her family. They were such warm people that when friends of mine came and attached their blankets to our constellation of blankets, they kept offering them snacks they'd brought as well.

The first day's bands were: Mucca Pazza, a circus punk marching band; Los de Abajos, a band from Mexico city featuring rock, salsa, ska, reggae; Watcha Clan, a musical collective from Marseilles, France. I enjoyed them all immensely, but my favorite was Watcha Clan, which describes their music as diaspora hi-fi.

I've been wondering how much longer my son will dance with me, and it's becoming apparent that he is more self-conscious now. He danced one song with me yesterday and laughingly resisted the whole time. So it felt like a see-sawing punk square dance exercise! From there we went to my work to see the 2 hour dance performance. I told my son that I knew I'd force-fed him culture all day and that some day he'd forgive me. He said he wasn't so sure about that! I pointed out that I don't drag him to the opera or the ballet, and this was an opportunity to see a very creative taking over of a building. Not to mention all the German songs and influences (he attends a German immersion school) from the past and present. My mother came to see the show with us, and when they went home, I was left to contend with one more performance. It was 1:00 a.m. when I was finally able to leave work.

But on Saturday all I really "had" to do was see 3 more bands: Red Baraat, Hanggai and Maria de Barros. My favorite was Hanggai, a group from Beijing in Mongolian dress with traditional and modern influences. They somehow make you nostalgic for a countryside and time where you've never actually been. Later I heard they were backstage indulging in Milwaukee spirits... The first band came marching down the hill like the band of the first day did, and they had some high stepping energy with an Indian Bollywood meets New York influence. Maria de Barros hails from Cape Verde, the land of her parents, but she was born in Senegal. Apparently there is a Portuguese/Creole influence to her singing. She wore a stunning purple long raw silk skirt with an interestingly scalloped hem that made her seem like a rare flower, sharing her vibrant colors and warmth by perking up a crowd that had already been dancing up a storm on a fading and cooling Sunday afternoon, lighting up the grey mist that started creeping over the hill. I especially liked that she had a real womanly shape to her.

My mother came with us, saying she would like to come along on more of our outings. She has decided she wants to make bags and purses, so she was casing the crowd for ideas. I ordered crepes from the German vendor who came to Milwaukee from Kassel, Germany: Nutella with strawberries and whipped cream for Mom and Lemon/sugar for my son. Our new friends had brought even more snacks, and another friend also came prepared with a delicious spread that included wine glasses and wine. When other friends of mine came over, they were invited to partake in their generous bounty. The best part was all the dancing, as I hadn't danced much the day before. My son kept coming up to me and "hitting" me in the back, wanting to be chased. So I obliged and swung him around to his delight. At one point he went down the hill and paused, putting 2 fingers in a v to his eyes and then towards me, like something out of a 60's spy movie, making me wonder once again how on earth he comes up with this stuff. The kid certainly has style. Later he would tell me that he really wanted to dance alone, and I could only chuckle. He has the 9 year old independent streak gathering in rebellious strength, yet coupled with little boy sweetness that cannot hide a need for closeness.

I was on sensory overload for the rest of the day but grateful that I had partaken in it all. I sat on the hill taking in variety of people around me and the musically inspired assault on my senses, feeling grateful to be a part of a truly global moment in time. The next day when people talked about the Packer game, I could only shake my head in wonder that they missed out on Global Union.

creative juices

2009-09-14T07:00:00.000-07:00

Last week I was thinking about how I need to squeeze my schedule to get more juice out of it for myself, especially on a creative level. I need more time for yoga and writing. And within 24 hours of expressing that desire, my friend Thirza wrote me about a writing lab that she was starting the next day. $20 for 7 weeks on a day that works for me with a great group of people. Whenever I express a heart's desire, the Universe never fails to answer.

We did some writing exercises and then had to read aloud. This was a bit nerve-wracking because I didn't know everyone there, and the people I did know, I knew in a different context. The woman next to me kept saying she is not a good writer, so I could tell that this belief has stood in the way of her writing, for it wasn't true. She did say that she excels at writing thank you letters, so I suggested that she write a collection of thank you letters with stories of what happened in the backdrop of those letters. She said she had to write her first thank you letter for a gift of a brush with one hair in it! It was a bit disconcerting though when I read and she turned to her friend and jokingly said she shouldn't next to me any more. She said to me at one point that she can tell I write a lot, and that she tends to write short pieces because she works with numbers. I asked her if it would help to know that I do bookkeeping as part of both my jobs in non-profits. I told her that I know I can write a lot, but it's a particular challenge for me to say more with less words.

At first we had to finish sentences that started with prompts such as "In Milwaukee we..." This was an easy exercise to begin with. And then we were asked to write about the most interesting place we'd ever slept in. I found myself writing about the night I had to sleep on a ferry from England to Holland when I found out that my Oma in Germany had died. I didn't have a sleeping cabin because the trip had to be planned on short notice. And so I had to sleep in a very public area while holding a very private sorrow, curved like a comma onto a small couch, waiting for the ordeal that was yet to come.

We were challenged to create writing rituals for ourselves, so this is what I am currently pondering as I also try to carve out more time for yoga, loved ones, the ever-growing pile of books under my bed...dreaming the continuing adventures of my life

thoughts on thoughts

2009-09-09T19:57:00.000-07:00

Tonight I had an interesting conversation with my Mom about thoughts... She told me about all these work snafus she encountered today because of this ridiculous process they now have at work. She ended up making what she thought was her mistake when really it was a matter of not having enough info. Then she got an email from the IRS that accused her of fraud and freaked her out until, only to find out that everyone got that email, and it was a scam.

So I asked her, "Okay, so this message of 'They are all against me and don't like me' keeps coming up, but is it true? How can you change that story?" So then she was talking about Sunday and how my cat scratched her when she cut out the dreadlocks in her fur, and how my friend's baby threw up on her...how funny the whole day really was. And then I asked her, "So those could be reasons to think everything and everyone is against you, or perhaps these are lessons about keeping your sense of humor?" And she said, "Well, all those things caused marks or stains." And I said, "Can you wash those stains out?" She quickly retorted, "But then those stains don't always come out, like when babies spit up breast milk because it's a grease stain!" So that's when I exclaimed (tongue in cheek but with a bit of exasperation): "So thoughts are like stains...?!" And my mother (tongue in cheek right back at me) replies: "And that's when I remembered what you always say, "I am the Stain Meister, and I know how to get just about any kind of stain out..." (My mother has always been able to get any stain out of the clothing I've brought to her.)

We really can change any story, even the most mundane situation, by changing our thoughts.

on love

2009-09-06T05:26:00.000-07:00

They respected each other, and they never put each other down. With each step they took together, they were happy. There was no envy or jealousy, there was no control, there was no possessiveness. The relationship just kept growing and growing. They loved to be together, because when they were together they had a lot of fun. When they were not together, they missed each other.

One day when the man was out of town, he had the weirdest idea. He was thinking, "Hmmm, maybe what I feel for her is love. But this is so different from what I ever felt before. It's not what the poets say it is, it's not what religion says, because I am not responsible for her. I don't take anything from her; I don't have the need for her to take care of me; I don't need to blame her for my difficulties or to take my dramas to her. We have the best time together; we enjoy each other. I respect the way she thinks, the way she feels. She doesn't embarrass me; she doesn't bother me at all. I don't feel jealous when she is with other people; I don't feel envy when she is successful. Perhaps love *does* exist, but that's not what everyone thinks love is.

He could hardly wait to get home and talk to her, to let her know his weird idea. As soon as he started talking, she said, "I know exactly what you are talking about. I had the same idea long ago, but I didn't want to share it with you because I know you don't believe in love. Perhaps love does exist, but it isn't what we thought it was." They decided to become lovers and live together, and it was amazing that things didn't change. They still respected each other, they were still supportive of each other, and the love grew more and more. Even the simplest things made their hearts sing with love because they were so happy.

The man's heart was so full with all the love he felt that one night a great miracle happened. He was looking at the stars and he found the most beautiful one, and his love was so big that the star started coming down from the sky and soon that star was in his hands. Then a second miracle happened, and his soul merged with that star. He was intensely happy, and he could hardly wait to go to the woman and put that star in her hands to prove his love to her. As soon as he put the star in her hands, she felt a moment of doubt. This love was so overwhelming, and in that moment, the star fell from her hands and broke into a million little pieces.

...Who made the mistake?
The mistake was on the man's part in thinking he could give the woman his happiness. The star was his happiness, and his mistake was to put his happiness in her hands. Happiness never comes from outside of us. He was happy because of the love coming out of him; she was happy because of the love coming out of her. But as soon as he made her responsible for his happiness, she broke the star because she could not be responsible for his happiness.

From "The Mastery of Love" by Don Miguel Ruiz

Full Moon Thoughts

2009-09-05T06:06:00.000-07:00

Yesterday there was a heated debate on my Facebook page about healthcare. One of my friends was insulting in her reply to another friend, and it made me uncomfortable. I worried about what he would think. I believe that if I respect another person's opinion, he/she is more likely to be open to mine. I also believe that everyone should feel free to express an opinion whether I agree or not. But some situations, like healthcare, are too emotionally charged for certain niceties. It takes a risk to express an opinion. If someone is offended by another person's opinion, it's that person's job to express the discomfort, not mine. I was uncomfortable because I thought others might be uncomfortable, but that discomfort was only in my head at that point. I wasn't really concerned with their feelings; I was afraid they might not like me any more. Others on that thread may indeed have been uncomfortable. But some issues are too important, and taking the risk to address such an issue may mean sacrificing comfort. And that's okay.

Speaking of comfort levels, I'm sad to see how people are reacting to the Obama speech to children. One friend of mine said on her facebook status that she was keeping her kids home because she didn't want them forcefed by a president she doesn't support. I was shocked. I think it's a positive thing for someone holding the office of President to encourage children to study and work hard no matter what his political agenda is. In the old days there wouldn't have been such an outrage. I hope that my child gets a chance to hear that speech.

Yesterday was a beautiful day. I was at my favorite cafe for a latte and then went for a walk by the lake with my son's father. He has learned a lot over the years, especially in terms of talking about his emotions and owning his stuff. That night he had me and my son over for pasta with sauce made from his garden tomatoes and fresh mozzarella. Incredibly tasty, especially given the fact that we ate outside in his garden by the fire. Banana chocolate cookies for dessert. And crusty multi-grain french bread. My son romped around the garden to his heart's content and went to bed in his clothes immediately upon arriving home.

All under the light of the full moon. My gratitude feels as full as that moon.

some byron katie quotes

2009-09-04T05:28:00.000-07:00

From "Question Your Thinking, Change Your World" by Byron Katie
I can be with my son and say, "Sweetheart, I see your pain. What can I do? I love you. If you can see a role for me to take here, to help you in any way, I'll do it. I love you. I'm here." And then I can hold him. But fear can't end fear. My pain can't end his pain.
And if he says, "Oh no, Mom, you can't help me. Go away," then I hear him. Good. How clear is that! So I go away. That leaves him to heal himself. He's with the master. I don't teach him that I'm the source of his happiness. That would be crazy. What would happen if I'd die? He'd lose the source of his happiness. To give him back himself - that's love.

"My mother should love me" - is that true? This is the death of a dream. Can you see one good reason to keep the story that anyone should love you, ever? Have you ever tried to love your perceived enemy? It's hopeless. Who would you be without this story that your mother should love you? You'd be you, without all that efforting. Without the mask, the facade. It feels like freedom to me.
Wanting your mother to love you is like being in a straitjacket. It's like being the dog on the floor just crawling and begging, with your tongue hanging out: "Love me! Love me! I'll be good! I'll be good!" Make a list of everything you want her to do for you, then do it for yourself, and do it now. This is the real thing. You want it from her? Turn it around and live it yourself.

Whose business are my children? Their business! When we're mentally out of our children's business, we have a shot at happiness, and so do they, because finally there is an example in the house.

I've been reading this and substituting different family members. So often I get caught up in thinking that I need to fix someone or a relationship when it's really not my business. By making it my business, I make the situation about me when it's really not about me. So much food for changing my thoughts and freeing my heart...

gratitude at any age

2009-09-03T05:36:00.000-07:00

I was at the bus stop with my son the other day, and the other family we wait with pulled up just as the bus did. It was the father, whom I see rarely because he is a teacher. He asked me to wait for a moment after the bus left. I noticed a fresh tattoo on his forearm with a date. He told me it was the day his 39-year old wife had a major stroke. She had 3 brain surgeries in 4 days...very scary stuff. This petite and active woman has 2 little kids and was in school. Now she lies in a hospital bed and has no strength to move. But she has her brain and speech.

I'm not thinking about this so as to live in fear of what may happen. But my co-worker Angela told me later that this happened to her sister when she was in her early 30's too. Her sister suffered permanent brain damage. I asked what the cause was, and she said extreme stress. And it was such a strong reminder of how we must take care of ourselves and cultivate happiness in the face of daily stress.

I'm grateful for my good health and my son's strong constitution (even though he doesn't seem to care much for eating!). I will try not to take any day for granted by wasting it with worry, stress, anger or sadness.

Last year or the year before I started putting daily notes on post-its in my son's lunch. The notes are sometimes silly, and sometimes they are attempts to impart bits of wisdom. This year I am asking his father and my mother to take a stack of post-its and write him some notes of their own.

back to school

2009-08-30T07:06:00.000-07:00

The current weather feels like back to school weather: sunny and in the 60's. Some people have been complaining about the "chilly" weather and moaning that it didn't feel like we had a summer. I don't understand this penchant for complaining about the weather...why not find a way to enjoy the weather at hand? I will admit that I do struggle with the more humid August weather, but there is always air conditioning. I don't quite feel as motivated to work out when it's humid, that's for sure! And while air conditioning is a relief, I know it's healthier to not have it on all the time. I read somewhere that Japanese women have younger looking skin because they don't use A/C as much. Another reason cited is that they eat more fish. I do think it's healthier when there isn't a big contrast between the outdoor weather and the indoor weather.

All of that aside, I love the cooler and crisper air. It makes me want to go tramping around in the woods. It makes me crave grilled cheese sandwiches with apple slices. Cocoa and tea in the evening. Watching movies while snuggled in blankets. A road trip to see the changing leaves.

This week I saw the Miyazaki movie Ponyo with my son and his father. I loved it, for it felt like one long underwater dream about love and childlike faith. Every year or so there seems to be a power animal that comes up for me, and this year it seems to be the octopus. I'm not sure what that means, but so far the theme of my life seems to be about creative and intuitive heart-based flow.

I bought a book last week called "What It Is" by cartoonist Lynda Barry. The octopus seems to be her creative muse character. There is a zen feel to this book for it examines all the hindrances to our creativity that we encounter as we leave childhood...all the reasons we stop drawing, singing, dancing, writing. This book that is part-collage part-autobiography part-art book that is filled with playful images and text works well for me as I ponder the Byron Katie concept of examining and changing the stories our thoughts tell us about our lives.

I also saw the movie "Inglourious Basterds" and aside from the gory bits (which I cannot watch), I enjoyed the different languages and the clever weaving of scenes and storylines. The next day my soon to be a 4th grader son and I started fencing with a private introductory session. I've written about how soccer was a big struggle for us. Our "deal" is that in order to play video games, he must be involved in some sort of active sport. He likes soccer but not the competitive aspect of being on a team and having regular games. Last year he decided he was interested in fencing after seeing a demonstration at my workplace. I wasn't sure if he was serious about it, for he had also indicated a similar interest in the violin, which fell to the wayside rather quickly upon having actual lessons. Since we had already enrolled in soccer, I waited until now to get started with the fencing. I have to take the class with him too, so I was filled with a bit of trepidation. I'm "not good" at classes that involve careful attention to steps, or at least that's the story I've always told myself.

We both loved the class! My instructor, a young 20 year old with the maturity and poise of a much older man, remarked that my yoga and martial arts training have prepared me well for fencing! All those squats and lunges are paying off! One of my favorite things about Tai Chi was something called "push hands", and I think this concept will help a great deal once I start learning the nuances of the foil. There is something scary - yet also exciting - about embarking on something new with one's child...without already knowing something about it! So we get to learn from the beginning with one another, and I think that is just too cool for words.

change your thoughts, change the story

2009-08-23T07:08:00.000-07:00

What a week! It's been a whole week since I have written here, and I am on my knees looking under the couch to see if I can find where the week went...

Last week I was still dealing with upset feelings about my sister-in-law. My brother hasn't spoken to me in 6 weeks. And while I knew from the beginning that what happened wasn't really about me, I've taken the opportunity to work on the feelings that the situation brought up in me. We can say that we try to walk in the shoes of another and understand how that person feels, but really, we can only see a glimmer of what it might feel like to be that person. We can really only "know" how we feel. And we can change those feelings by changing our thoughts.

I had my first fight with a dear friend a few months ago, and that night I went to the bookstore with my son. I found a Dr. Wayne Dyer book called "Excuses Begone". Now that my friend and I have made up, she has shared that a friend recommended the writings of Byron Katie to her. I've heard this name, even seen quotes from her, and yet I didn't know who this was. I know now that this is someone who has worked with Wayne Dyer.

I was at the bookstore last week and happened upon some books by Byron Katie. I was actually looking for something else, having already forgotten about my friend's recommendation. So I started paging through one of her books...and had one aha moment after another. I bought 2 books and returned the next day for 2 more.

Byron Katie's message reinforces much of what I've learned through the writings of Eckhart Tolle and Dr. Wayne Dyer...and what I already knew within myself, under layers of conditioning and old stories.

I was at a concert the other night, and I felt such tremendous love for everyone in my life. I thought about all of the things that I have been able to work through within myself since the situation with my sister-in-law, and I felt so grateful for her. I came home to a bouquet of flowers that my mother had left for me, along with a postcard that had a German quote about love, signed by her and my son. And my heart responded, with waves of love hitting the beach of home. I know she has been worried about the family stuff, so I have loaned her one of the books I bought.

We tell stories about our lives in our heads, stories that have endings before we've actually experienced these endings. Our thoughts influence our actions, and we tend to act out these stories over and over. And our stories interact with those of others, distracting us from the real connections within the moment. For example, my son's father has been the villain in my story for years now. I fired him from that role the other day. And he has become a different person. He is responding so differently to me...because I am treating him with love, the love that got buried under the layers of the story. He played his role well, but if he needs to be the bad guy, he will have to find another story in order to do so.

We went to Irish Fest with our son last week and had a fantastic time. My son has a tendency to complain before we go somewhere, usually while we are walking. It doesn't last long, for he tends to have fun despite his grumblings. I love Irish Fest because of the mix of tradition and modern. I love dancing with my son. He is starting to become more self-conscious, but he still dances with me. He did some dance/mock-fighting with his father, and it was truly enjoyable to meet in that vibe together. My 9 year old then went over to a young boy who was perhaps 3 and playing with a bubble making gun. My son danced around and gave the child a target to aim at...and eventually the younger boy would quickly shoot bubbles into the air, put down his weapon and dance with my son, before resuming with the bubble production. When we left, the younger boy came over to hug my son.

But wait. Stop the film. I'm not supposed to be enjoying family time with the ex! Isn't he the bad guy? He still has problems, by the way. But everyone in my life has problems, and I have decided that his are no better and no worse. I'm seeing how my treatment of him has brought about the same responses from him through the years, thus continuing the same story. I don't have any control over how he acts or reacts, but I can change my part of the story. I've fired all the bad guys in my life.

Last night my mother wanted to go to the block party in the neighborhood. I wasn't so keen. Since my jobs are quite social and I am often on the go, when I am home, I don't feel quite as social. I am friendly when I see my neighbors, and that's about the extent of it. When my brother and sister-in-law lived in the flat upstairs, they complained about the neighbors all the time. While I didn't agree with them, I didn't try to get to know them either.

I can be quite shy in a group setting, but for some reason I wasn't thinking about that yesterday. I met a family whose children are at the German school with my son. Then I met the neighbor from across the street, whose house I admired before we even moved in. There is an old bicycle leaning against the house, and when I told her how much I love it, she told me that it was her father's. She asked me if we moved in before or after they had painted their house, and I said I don't notice things like that! I found out that she is a teacher and involved with an arts group...and we know quite a lot of the same people! It was especially nice to see my son decorate his scooter and join the "Amazing Race" style competition that one of the fathers had created. (I thought it was just a spontaneous race of all the kids going down the street, but his wife shared with me that there was a great deal more thought that went into it!) I had to leave to meet some friends to see the movie "Julie and Julia". My mother wanted to leave with me because she gets overwhelmed in large groups. (I see where this story I tell myself about myself started!) But the race was just getting started, so she stayed. When I came home from the movie, I found out that my son won a harmonica, and my mother met a woman her age who was visiting her grandchildren, a woman who loves to read. In fact, they were talking about Louise Erdrich, one of my favorite writers who came up at my poetry group just last week!

It has been a week of new connections, new stories, new feelings...and ever-increasing gratitude.

apologies and appearances

2009-08-16T06:35:00.000-07:00

I was in a very upsetting situation several weeks ago. Someone went off on me, and I felt attacked. Hurtful words were exchanged. I cried for a long time that night.

I've since apologized for my part in a long email that others have told me was caring and compassionate. The only answer I received was an indignant one for using the wrong email address, the only I had and by accident at that. I know that holding on to my hurt and anger will only hurt me further. I also know that it takes contributions from two sides to get to such a painful boiling point. And there appear to be no forthcoming apologies from the other person.

There is a part of me that is indignant and wants to rail about how unfair that is. How she is hurting herself by holding onto that anger. How self-involved. How self-righteous. How I once again get to be the bad guy because I cannot ignore the pink elephant in the room. The person who talks about the pink elephant tends to become the pink elephant. It's certainly much easier than talking about how the pink elephant came to be in the room. Especially when appearances matter so much to one person and so little to the other.

It's possible that I will never get an apology from that person. And this saddens me deeply. For I have learned that there is strength, grace and healing in apologizing. I don't think that I have the art of apologizing down, and it may be a good while before I get to the grace part. I also don't believe in apologizing for the sake of apologizing. But I do believe that there is much to be learned from owning one's part in a conflict and moving on. Unfortunately, you may have to leave someone behind.

I went to see the clever and delightful movie (500) Days of Summer yesterday. It was a reminder to me of how we get caught up in appearances and react to what we see rather than what we feel. The main character is a greeting card writer, and at one point he says that cards for people who don't know what to say about how they feel. How quickly we grow up and get out of practice.

true personal power

2009-08-09T12:39:00.001-07:00

I haven't been writing about working out. It would seem that what I need most lately are inner workouts. Boot camp is on hiatus for 3 weeks, and we are supposed to take it easy and give our muscles a rest. I haven't been running lately because I just don't have a lot of energy at the end of the day, especially on hot days. But I have been walking quite a lot and doing my sun salutations in the mornings. There just doesn't seem to be any reason to push myself, although I do want to maintain a sense of routine. Once a week I've been trying to do a longer yoga session at home with a DVD since I can't seem to make it to a class (even when I do find the time!). Today I did a 45 minute session with a Seane Corn DVD, an instructor with whom I've actually had a class with in person. She's even more intense in real life. I've been trying to meditate more regularly, and I seem to manage to meditate every other day. My favorite continues to be the smiling meditation that I learned in Eat, Pray, Love.

Today I read the latest Oprah, which is about tapping into your inner power. These are my favorite quotes from the September issue:

Marion Woodman: Real power is about presence. It's the energy of knowing that you are who you are, and therefore speaking and acting from your authentic self. It doesn't matter what your work is - if you're a teacher or a nurse or whatever; it is your presence that's the power. It's not power over anybody else. It's just the expression of who you are.

Pema Chodron: The Power of the Pause. Pause by interrupting the usual chain reaction, not spinning off in the usual way. No need to blame anyone, including ourselves. Pausing creates a momentary contrast between being completely self-absorbed and being awake and present. In the middle of just living, which is usually a pretty caught-up experience characterized by a lot of internal discussion, just pause. Pausing nurtures you.

Shirley Ann Jackson:
{ Preparation (Passion + Persistence)}
{ Connection (Compassion + Courage)}
{ Excellence (Achievement + Wisdom)}
= Power

Note: Preparation, Connection, and Excellence are all to the tenth power in Jackson's original equation, but I don't know how to type that at the moment...)

Oprah: The Secret is Alignment. When you know for sure that you're on course and doing exactly what you're supposed to be doing, fulfilling your soul's intention, your heart's desire, whatever you may call it... When your life is on course with its purpose, you are your most powerful. And you may stumble, but you will not fall. Every challenge can make you stronger if you allow it.

hanging out with the Dream King

2009-08-09T06:53:00.000-07:00

So it's been ages since I've written. And there has been a lot on my mind this week. John Hughes' passing has had me riding a wave of nostalgia as I remember his films and the impact they had on me. There was something about those films that said it's okay to be different and an oddball. In fact, there is a beauty that comes from embracing that difference. I'm thinking about "The Breakfast Club" in particular. And the Simple Minds' song "Don't You (Forget About Me)" was like my own personal anthem.

There has been a blog piece shared several times on Facebook this past week...from a woman who started writing John Hughes when she was just a teenager. First he sent her a form letter and Breakfast Club membership, and she actually wrote him back, saying she deserved more than a form letter. And a very unique penpal friendship emerged. I think that no matter what status one may achieve, it's important to stay connected to what truly inspires you. I don't think that John Hughes ever felt like he fit in the Hollywood scene; in fact, he made a point of leaving it to try and live some sort of normal life for the sake of his two sons. Yet it cannot be denied that he left a mark of influence on Gen X... See this blog for a truly eloquent post on the subject:
http://www.jenx67.com/

There is another piece that I've seen mentioned on Facebook three times now. I'd actually seen it mentioned in a Buddhist blog first. Not sure if the link will work, but it's a Modern Love piece in the New York Times called "Those Aren't Fighting Words, Dear", by Laura A. Munson.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/02/fashion/02love.html?_r=2&em
The point that I have been pondering this week in particular is how quick we are to get caught up in the stuff of other people. If they are having a problem, it is somehow about us, and our egos compel us to fix said problem so we can feel good about ourselves. And yet it's the stuff of another person who needs to deal with it in his or her own way, in his or her own timing. And the best thing we can do is to give that person room.

A quote from the article:

"I’d committed to “The End of Suffering.” I’d finally managed to exile the voices in my head that told me my personal happiness was only as good as my outward success, rooted in things that were often outside my control. I’d seen the insanity of that equation and decided to take responsibility for my own happiness. And I mean all of it."

I've started dreaming again. Or I should say, I've started to pay attention again. I'm reading "The Three 'Only' Things" by Robert Moss, a modern day dream shaman. This particular book is an interesting read for those who might not realize what a role dreaming has played in history. There are ancient - and not-so-ancient cultures - even some of the founding fathers of the U.S. - that embraced the value of dreaming, and this has been quite forgotten in our modern society.

My son's father recommended the work of Neil Gaiman to me, and I've been taking the time to notice the magic in the every day, if only we take the time to notice. I'd avoided Gaiman's writings before, for I've no particular interest in the horror genre. To my surprise, Gaiman is quite a good writer who possesses a delicate and artful sense of language, as well as a treasure trove of imagination. And he's good friends with Tori Amos, whose work has always fascinated me, even when I don't understand it. Clarissa Pinkola Estes' "Women Who Run with the Wolves" was a big influence in my life about 5 years ago, and I think there are a great many riches to be gleaned from fairy tales, legends, and myths. I've long been drawn to Celtic music and storytelling for this reason. Creativity is fueled by an active imagination...and we can tap into our own dreams for much inspiration!

My son just emerged from his video game playing marathon to do a happy flip on the corner of the couch. Indeed. I'm off to do my own jumping for joy today.

vision boarding

2009-08-01T12:04:00.000-07:00

About 2 or 3 years ago I made my first vision board. I find this to be a very good creative exercise for getting in touch with what I want to do in this life. The first time I did it, I had a number of travel pictures on it. I ended up going to Germany, Scotland and Mexico that year, in a span of 2 months. I went to Spain the following year, and this year I went to Costa Rica.

I received an email from the meditation club that I belong to, and an assignment for making a vision board was given. I was cleaning the house this morning (and thinking that a clean house does most assuredly NOT indicate a clean and clear mind) and came upon my last vision board. One thing I learned about expressing intentions to the Universe is to be concise without being too specific. You have to be in touch with what you really want, yet open enough to allow the Universe to surprise you.

I'd thought that it didn't work the last time I did it, but when I looked at it, I realized that indeed much of it had come true. For example:

I want a relationship based on trust. Trust yourself more.
More than a teacher. (I really miss teaching, but I've learned a great deal this past year.)
Learning on the job.
Love, the great adventure.
Connections.
This is your year.
Money can be translated into the beauty of living. (Sylvia Porter)
More destinations; after all life is a journey.
Serenity.
Get to enoughness.
Balance of mind and body.
Improve your body.
Financial serenity.
Suddenly, I realize that if I stepped out of my body I would break into blossom. (James Wright, from "A Blessing")

The only items that didn't come true were: in love. I had "daily kiss" on there and just realized that I do get a kiss from my son every day.

My colleague was telling me the other day that it's much harder to stick to your integrity when you are single. He said that while he gets tempted, his commitment to his marriage is one that he does not wish to compromise in any way. I may not have a commitment to a marriage, but I am committed to the blossoming relationship with myself.

This is the year when I started boot camp (and I don't have to pay for it, a savings of at least $200 a month). The year I learned that I am more than a teacher, or any role in my life, for that matter. Where I stopped worrying about money so much. The year when I started feeling more comfortable in my body and learned how to flirt with life.

Today I will be creating a new vision board....and I'm excited about what I will discover.

the view from above

2009-07-30T05:31:00.000-07:00

I was chatting with a colleague who is a rock climber the other day. He was telling me about his weekend camping and climbing trip. Initially he was disappointed that they weren't able to go farther away due to weather. Instead they went to Devil's Lake, a closer place where they often climb. He said he was reminded of how beautiful the place is, so instead of it being a letdown, it was a surprisingly enjoyable opportunity for rediscovery. He went on to say that he has to remind himself to stop often as he approaches his goal of the top, so that he can turn around and enjoy the view of where he has been...so that he doesn't forget why he climbs.

He also talked about how he had been so preoccupied with the weather forecast. Of course rock climbers don't want it to rain because it's more dangerous for them. He told me it did rain a bit, but they weren't climbing at the time. And he realized that during the brief period it rained, they bonded as a group more. It wasn't the bad thing that he was thinking it would be.

Our expectations color our experience. When we are attached to a particular outcome, we set ourselves up for disappointment, but that disappointment isn't real. It distracts us from what is really going on. It causes us to miss the potential of what could be if we could just let go to the experience at end...and be surprised.

“I have come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element. It is my personal approach that creates the climate. It is my daily mood that makes the weather. I possess tremendous power to make life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration, I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis is escalated or de-escalated, and a person is humanized or de-humanized. If we treat people as they are, we make them worse. If we treat people as they ought to be, we help them become what they are capable of becoming.”

- Goethe

The gift that is this moment...the present...brings together the past and the future. If we hold on to the past lamenting mistakes that we made, we cannot move forward. If we focus with fixed zeal on the future, we lose sight of opportunities and remain stuck as well. Things unfold as they should, if we let them. The present moment gives us the room to let go.

kindness

2009-07-27T06:01:00.000-07:00

I am impressed with the lack of artifice in the kindness of children. I was walking on a trail with my son yesterday, and he found a walking stick as he often does. We saw an older gentleman on the path, and just as we were walking by him, Gustav said: Sir, would you like my walking stick? And the older gentleman said: Why, thank you! And it's just the right size.
With that he walked off with his new walking stick into the grass.
It was indeed the right size for him.

I can't take credit for a moment like that. I've tried to instill basic manners into my child, and I can't count how many times other people have commented on how well-mannered he is. It is no longer a given that children say please and thank you. But even more importantly, I want him to be aware of the feelings of others. I think that we as parents, educators, and adults whom children encounter need to treat children with politeness. I am very fortunate to have so many people in my life who have taken the time with my son to talk to him like an individual. He has had countless examples of what it is to have a heart for this world.

Yesterday I didn't say much to him other than thank you when the man walked away. I don't want to make too much notice of something that comes naturally to him. He had no expectation of anything in return. And I learned from his example. He also shared with me things he has learned about the natural world, bringing my attention to the fish I hadn't noticed in the water.

Kindness really is not a difficult concept. Wanting to be noticed for acts of kindness is a temptation. Understanding that another may not see it as a kindness is yet another matter. Kindness is not always nice.

I apologized to a family member this weekend for the words I used with her recently. I added that I too deserve an apology, for what she said to me - with false assumptions - was very hurtful. I wrote many positive and caring things about how I understand how hard it is to become a mother...especially how hard it is to let go. And the response was incredibly harsh and cold. What I wrote to her was from my heart with genuine compassion, and she heard not one word of it. I have to learn the lesson that just because my intention is good...I have no control how it is received. Expressing genuine compassion and kindness is not attached to a particular outcome.

external hard drive

2009-07-25T15:30:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to see a local band called "Kings Go Forth" play. I've known some of the people in the band for years, and it was pretty neat to see them come together with a unique sound that is somehow reminiscent of the 60's. It's funny to contemplate how nostalgic we Gen Xers can be for a time period when we were mere babies or toddlers!

I encountered a woman who has become a groupie of the band. She started to grill me about one of my co-workers, whom she'd like to get to know better. I've noticed that people will attach themselves to people who seem like what they want to be without taking the risk of being themselves. I don't yet know how to not be annoyed by this.

This morning I went to a talk given by Khandro Rinpoche, a renowned Tibetan teacher who is the head of a Tibetan monastery for Buddhist nuns in India. The topic of her talk was "This Precious Life", which is also the title of her book. She talked a great deal about the outer qualities of Buddhist principles vs. our own inner qualities. If we simply count the qualities of this precious life without recognizing the more difficult gift of maintaining said qualities, then we miss the point.

She talked about how instead of being ourselves with others, we instead give way to assumptions that are not real. Instead of embracing the freedom of being ourselves, instead we embrace the distance and apprehensive discomfort that causes us to either be protective of who we are, or aggressive (this is who I am, take it or leave it). We say that people who see things that aren't there belong in insane assylums, yet we constantly react to things that are not there, for they are things in our minds. We allow the Ego to guide us into protecting a sense of self by playing roles that keep us from being free to be ourselves. This reminds me of Eckhart Tolle's teachings in "A New Earth".

Rinpoche went on to say that we focus so much on what we do not have when we have so much more than we realize. Kindness is a natural expression, not a burden. If we depend on external reactions to maintain a good life, our efforts will collapse and not support us. By going within and strengthening the internal and innate qualities we possess, life becomes effortless. Roles do not define who we are, and what we do is illuminated from within.

I've been so caught up in work stress that I've been losing the motivation to work out...and as a result my energy has waned considerably. I have to work at staying motivated, and I know it's time to rebuild my home yoga/meditation practice. I need to make time to go to the zen center and reconnect with my support system. I may not have room in my schedule for a regular yoga class, but I can drop in to different yoga classes and meet new teachers. If I don't have the time or energy to do a run, I can always take a walk. I have been burning out on bookkeeping, drowning in numbers. The more I drown in what I don't like to do, the less I do of what I like to do...and it's time to turn that around.

on friendship

2009-07-24T08:35:00.000-07:00

I've had a quote from Goethe on my mind:

If we treat people as they ought to be, we help them become what they are capable of becoming.

I have a weakness when it comes to expecting people to be the potential I see in them. I had an ex-boyfriend who found that hard to live with, mostly because he didn't believe in himself and he certainly didn't want to deal with anyone's expectations. He's right of course. We shouldn't try to change people; rather, it is important to love people where they are now. And yet if we treat people worse than they are capable of being, that only serves to discourage them from reaching deeper within themselves. So treating people as well as we can, no matter how frustrated we may be with them, that is a more realistic and effective goal.

I had an ex reach out to me this week. He said that he is feeling lonely and scared about the unknown that the future holds. He is trying to stay out of the bars. He is realizing that he needs to stay away from old influences/friends, and he knows that he does not have a strong support network. He asked me for ideas. I will admit to allowing myself some venting with those close to me about the irony of this request. This is the same person who told me that no one would really like me if they really knew me. I've had someone say to me recently that all I have to do is look to the fact that I have so many friends to know otherwise. But some hurts linger.

And yet...who am to deny friendship to someone in need? Just because he denied me friendship and support? Withholding forgiveness and holding on to hurt will only hinder my own growth. And I want my son to have a happy father. I've never much believed in being friends with exes, and while I don't think I need to be an ex's best friend, that doesn't mean that I can't have a different type of connection with that person. I was thinking about something that my Italian boyfriend from years ago said to me - about how I was so different from all the superficial girls he knew. A Tori Amos song comes to mind...about a girl who thinks really deep thoughts...what's so amazing about really deep thoughts... I think that people are attracted to my integrity, and yet it's the very thing that gets me into trouble again and again. Hopefully I will learn to temper that with compassionate wisdom.

I've been reading several pieces on happiness this week. I remain convinced that happiness is a choice. I used to get bogged down in the unhappiness of others, frustrated and dismayed that I could not make them happier. While we have no control over the happiness of others, we are free to share our own happiness by reveling in the simple moments.

I asked my ex this question: What makes you happy in each new day? I challenged him to make a list and add to it every day. What's on your list?

On today's list: Fridayness. Working out at home and reestablishing a routine that I enjoy. Walking my son to daycare (I usually don't have time to do this). Bananas in my chocolate yogurt. Looking at messenger bags (I have my eye on one from Alchemy Goods) at REI. The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency (I discovered that I had one I hadn't yet read). Organic French Roast coffee. A concert tonight. The little girl who ran up to me at my son's daycare and hugged me, saying that she was so glad to see me because she is not used to being at daycare and feels a little nervous. (This is the little girl from the school bus stop during the year...this is the first time I've ever seen here at the daycare)

Once you started counting your blessings, the list starts to feel endless...

With Julio down by the schoolyard

2009-07-20T06:30:00.000-07:00

I worked at an inner city festival this past Saturday and took my son along. There were very few white people in attendance, and I really think it's important for white people to have experiences like this, for it certainly happens more often to people of color that they are in such situations where they are in the minority.

I woke up to a particular feminine problem that I was not expecting. On the one hand I had the sense that a mystery of the intense emotions of the past week explained; on the other hand I realized how early and unexpected this was. Bonus. I have often thought it would be so helpful to men if we could tell them in an easy and unembarrassing way what is going on with us. But then I think men need to figure out their cycle so we can know where they are at emotionally. Many men I know will admit to having something like a 6 week cycle, and yet because there are no physical markers, it's that much harder to pinpoint.

So I spent about 6 hours walking around the festival to coordinate facepainting, crafts, magic, drumming, etc. This mostly entailed finding the artist and standing nearby. We didn't have water for facepainting, so I managed to get some water and a couple of cups donated from nearby vendors. I used to be terrible at that sort of thing, but I have learned to ask for what I need.

We were put on a barren concrete schoolyard, with the Disney stage at one end and nothing in between, other than basketball playing kids. We only had two children come over for facepainting; I then submitted my cheek to my friend Andrew so that he could paint a beautiful dragonfly for me.

My friend Julio came to do the drum circle, and he actually got a nice one going...until it began to rain. I helped him get his drums back to his vehicle, and we stood there under his hatchback door. That's when I realized I was "hanging with Julio down by the schoolyard". The previous week someone had written that phrase in an email. The really cool part about that is that I paid attention to the fact that it was Julio that I was spending time with. He and I used to teach at the same school, and we used to have great conversations whenever we saw each other, whether it was in the school parking lot or the nearby cafe. Julio lives his principles of peace and love, but he is also a realist, which makes him a great friend.

So we had this wonderful conversation about religious symbolism. We talked about how painters started painting wings onto "angels" so they could be told apart from the non-angels in paintings. We talked about how literally people take images. The thing is that as we try to imagine a limitless God, we are limited by our imaginations. I was talking about how much I liked visualizing God as an African-American woman when I was reading the book "The Shack". Julio talked about how fairies and gnomes (we used to both teach in a Waldorf school) are really meant to illustrate the energy of magic to be found in so-called moments. I have always been drawn to the Moominfamily books, which are not well known in this country, for that very reason, as well as to Smurfs (known as Schluempfe in Germany). Apparently the creator was asking for salt at a dinner table and forgot the word...so he used the word "schtroumpf", which became a silly conversation.

Earlier that day I'd been reading about humor and its role in philosophy. A piece by humorist John Llloyd caught my attention. He writes: If you look at the universe as a tremendously complex, very amusing practical joke, it starts to make sense. It also offers a hopeful suggestion s to how to behave. If life is neither a meaningless gene machine nor a cruel and vicious vale of tears but a damn good gag, the only logical solution is to laugh...
He talks about the wisdom of jokes, how they are surprise generators that force us to look at the world in a different way.

So I'm glad I paid attention while hanging out with Julio down by the schoolyard.

Later that night I was at a birthday party on my friend's deck. I saw my (relatively) new friend Rebecca, who had mentioned the book "Mutant Message Down Under". I'd read that book many years ago, and she came over to talk about how she was struck by how we have forgotten the simple things in our quest for the comforts and so-called conveniences of technology. Just this past week I was musing about how we managed to meet up with people when we didn't have cell phones and computers. Somehow we managed. And we had a good time.

The evening was a bit marred for me when a guy tried to get my attention. I need a break from the confusion of this past week! The next night I saw the Drew Barrymore movie "Never Been Kissed", and there was something about the goofy naive main character that I could relate to. She talked about how penguins find each other. I was also struck by the John Lennon song that was on the movie soundtrack, for it has been in my head for the past few days (it was even my facebook status that same day):

People say I'm crazy doing what I'm doing
Well they give me all kinds of warnings to save me from ruin
When I say that I'm o.k. well they look at me kind of strange
Surely you're not happy now you no longer play the game

I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go...

On Sunday I enjoyed an afternoon of Harry Potter with some girlfriends and my son. We went to a neighborhood cinema that features couches. When we came home, I found the 7 hardcover Harry Potters that I've been saving for my son and could hardly contain my excitement as he disappeared with the one we had just seen on film. There is something about the magical world of Harry Potter that holds me in its thrall...for there is indeed magic in our everyday lives, if we only know where to look.

I'm still standing...yeah yeah yeah

2009-07-17T19:04:00.000-07:00

I managed to get away for just over 24 hours to Chicago yesterday/today. It was a day of firsts for me. The main reason for the trip was to meet a guy I'd been writing for almost 3 months and then go to the Billy Joel/Elton John concert at Wrigley Field. Work has been so crazy lately that I welcomed the opportunity for a mini-getaway by deciding to take the train and spend the night in a hotel. I ended up getting a great deal on a room in a hotel that I would normally consider "fancy schmancy".

I was surprised that I slept well the night before. Usually I can't sleep the night before I leave town or meet a guy for a "date" situation. I'd decided I wasn't going to think about work at all for 24 hours, and that certainly didn't work the way I'd hoped. I had to get up at 6:45 for a work call that turned into 8 work calls. I had to race to the bank and to the train station, making it with 5 minutes to spare.

I got a few work calls once I got to Chicago. Oddly enough, all the calls I got in Chicago were about Internet outages, which is certainly not my area of expertise. Upon arrival I took my time by getting a double latte...sometimes a latte is just like heaven in my book. I also got a veggie delite on flat bread at Subway...thank goodness, for it was to be several hours before I ate again. I usually make sure to have a healthy late afternoon snack to keep my blood sugar going. But instead I walked around in the hot sun and forgot to hydrate. The guy had hoped to make it into town by 2 but was delayed. I sat in the park by the art institute for a while, tempted by the sun.

Art Institute prices have gone up significantly - $18! First I wandered through a Japanese screen exhibit that was pretty cool, and then I strode through an uninteresting exhibit about wine's inspiration. Perhaps if there had been actual wine, I might have been more inspired. Kidding! Then I found the new contemporary wing and took in the Cy Twombley exhibit, which I loved. I also found a video installation that featured the trip hop artist Tricky.

Once I was on sensory overload, it was time to head out for the sun, but it had become a bit overcast. The guy called shortly after I sat down in the garden, saying he was delayed by traffic. The poor guy ended up driving for 4 hours instead of 2. His first idea was to park at my hotel, which I wish hadn't been so expensive. When he picked me up, he had to look at directions and figure out how to drive to the shuttle lot. All that texting and calling was quite a build-up, so the time delays proved to be anti-climactic.

I don't agree to meet many guys. I get turned off by the emails I get and can only take just so much of the dating websites. I find dating to be nerve-wracking and tend not to make a good impression, mostly because I come off as being uninterested. It takes me longer than a first date to warm up to someone.

I was very surprised to not be nervous with this guy. I didn't actually get nervous until later, which is when I started using more humor. I think I have gotten too used to joking around with the guys at work, and my humor probably seems dark to people who don't know me very well. I think I might have joked around too much about Illinois vs. Wisconsin while trying to make conversation. I think I even gave him the impression I was making fun of buses, when in reality I am worried about the bus cuts in my hometown. I used to take the bus quite a lot, and I'm used to people snubbing the bus.

We ended up in a crowded shuttle bus with alarm bells that kept going off, which is enough to make anyone's nerves jangly. I am noise sensitive in a funny way. I can work while a sound check is going on. I can listen to loud music and read. And yet some noises can really disturb me. Meditation helps me to filter out distracting noises.

I also have a hard time in crowds. I can teach a group of 30 first graders...but throw me in a small room that is jam-packed with people, and I will scope out the exits. Being a sensitive person is an asset as a teacher, especially if you have to keep track of individual personalities and issues in 8 different classes. But when I find myself in a crowd of adults, I tend to pick up on the feelings of others around me. There was a drunk guy that I was really worried about at the concert last night; I was afraid he was going to fall down the stairs.

Once we left the ringing shuttle bus, we headed to McDonald's so he could go to the bathroom. McDonald's was packed, so I asked a friendly guard what was going on. A Chicago Blackhawk's player was giving autographs. I had to ask what kind of team that was.

Once we were in our seats (very high up, but under the awning), I made what was probably a glaring faux pas. I tend to be frugal with my money, although yesterday was quite an exception (it was kind of an expensive break), and since I do bookkeeping for non-profits, I think about other people's money all the time. I was worried that he would be worrying about the money. He didn't seem to be. But my mentioning money seemed to open up a space of awkwardness. I like to be able to share expenses when hanging out with people, but once I brought up the money, it seemed to split things down the middle.

He kept his end of the "date", if it indeed was one, very well while having to figure out where we were going and how to get there. I, on the other hand, struggled. I am much more of a one-on-one person than my jobs might lead people to believe, so when we ran out of time to go somewhere to sit down and share a meal, I started to get nervous.

So there we were at Wrigley Field, a stadium filled with almost 20,000 people, and we hadn't even had a chance to connect in a one-on-one kind of way. There was an easy rapport from the beginning, but once I got overwhelmed, I felt a bit lost in the crowd. I tried to tell him later that I had a (rare) panic attack, and I don't know if that weirded him out. He didn't ask me if I was okay or anything. I think that panic attacks/anxiety are quite common in our society, actually, but it is not yet commonplace to admit to such things.

My friend came back from Germany recently and asked me where the calm and laid-back Katharina went while she was gone. I rarely have anxiety issues since starting my yoga/meditation practice. But things have been stressful lately, and I haven't been taking the time to decompress that I usually do. So there I was in this sea of people, and I realized that I had put myself into the hands of the stranger sitting next to me. He had my shuttle ticket. He knew where the car was. He had the concert ticket.

It was too loud to talk, and besides, we were there to hear the music. I knew I could trust him, and I was proud of myself for doing things I wouldn't normally do, such as meeting a stranger to go to such an amazing concert. I almost asked him after the show if we could go somewhere quiet so that we could talk about the show and have a few moments to connect more meaningfully. But at that point it was late, and he still had a long drive ahead of him.

The concert itself was amazing. Our seats were far away, but that didn't matter. To be in that stadium with all of those people who could sing along was a very powerful thing. There is something very intimate about the lyrics of both artists, and people in that audience were quite friendly to one another. It was like one big celebration of where we came from, especially the 70's and 80's.

But still, once we were in that sea of people spilling out into the streets for the buses and cars, that overwhelmed feeling returned. I worried about losing sight of my companion and almost asked if I could hold his hand, something I would have felt comfortable doing with a good friend. But I was worried about what he'd think, so I said nothing.

On the bus I had to face forward so I wouldn't get sick, but then I was afraid I seemed rude for being quiet. He managed to keep up amusing banter from time to time, but I didn't hold up my end well. Once we got to the car, he had to check maps again. I stayed quiet so he could concentrate, and then later I worried that I seemed ungracious.

But the most confusing moment was when he dropped me off at the hotel. Perhaps it's how we are in Milwaukee, but I'm used to even the worst "date" ending with a hug. Or even just an outing with a friend. But when he was so casual about saying goodbye, I decided it meant he didn't even like me as a potential friend. (Many view a first date as an opportunity to gauge sexual compatibility, whereas I do the opposite. Although I think about sex as much as anyone else!)

I've always thought it would be so helpful if there were thought bubbles over each person's head during a date/get to know you session. Instead we sit and wonder what that other person was thinking, and often we are quite wrong...yet we run with whatever our errant assumption was and act on it as though it were true!

I was quite hungry, having only had a brat and a couple of drinks. (I was quite impressed that the guy had only 1 beer, but then I worried that I joked too much about drinking earlier...although I'm sure I didn't impress him by having 2 drinks right in the beginning, thinking it would help me relax) So I walked along Michigan Avenue at midnight, looking for somewhere to get a small snack. And then I saw a man laying on the ground. I suspect he was an addict of some kind. I was struck by how he said "Please", as though he'd given up on hope long ago and he hoped that someone else hadn't. I gave him a dollar and he asked me to pray for him.

And that's when it struck me how silly my "problem" seemed compared to his. Here I was wondering if some cute nice guy liked me, when I am forgetting to count my blessings. Whether the guy liked me or not, I had an amazing day. And I was encouraged by the fact that I hung out with a guy I liked, for that doesn't usually happen. Usually I end up in a situation where I feel bad for not liking someone who likes me.

I talked to a friend of mine the next morning who said that she is amazed at how I can be such an intuitive person in just about any situation besides a "date", which I tend to misread entirely. She said she wished she could be a fly on the wall to point out all the things I tend to miss. She's probably right, but how would I know? Ha.

The songs I heard last night will stay with me in a deeper way than before. Especially Elton's song "I'm still standing". It's funny that I went more because of Billy Joel, and yet it's Elton's songs that move me the most somehow.

The next day I encountered a very friendly doorman who asked me what I'd come to Chicago to do. When I told him about the concert, he remarked that it's a difficult place to see a concert and he could understand how I felt about the crowd. He gave me a tip about a venue on Northerly Island that sounded intriguing. When I told him I was from Milwaukee, he said he liked Milwaukee because of its smaller town feel. And then he said, but that's not where you are really from, is it?! So as usual, I had to mention Berlin, and he gave me the "yeah, that's it" nod.

When I walked to Union station to take the train back to Milwaukee, (2 coffees and a Stedman Graham sighting along the way) I found out that the Chicago Fire Department had suspended all train travel to Milwaukee until further notice while they dealt with a big fire. While it was disconcerting to be stuck in Chicago for 3 more hours, I encountered such a friendly array of people during the course of my morning.

I was thinking about how my job, as much as it drives me crazy (for I seem to be the chaos keeper), challenges all of my issues, unfortunately all at once. I was also thinking about how working with mostly men has given me a lot of confidence, if not a more warped sense of humor. Going away for the day showed me that they depend on me for way too much, however, and I'd be well advised to have better back-up. No one should be that indispensable and needed.

Working with mostly men has given me a lot of confidence. Sometimes flirting makes me uncomfortable, so I start joking, and that's where I can hold my own. Being away made me realize that these guys who drive me nuts on a regular basis believe in me.

I heard from "the ex" in a text this week. I had seen my son's father at the beginning of the week, and I've started joking with him more. He was talking about how he is trying to stay out of the bars, and I said something about the middle way, how black and white thinking puts a lot of pressure on us to be a certain way, so we fail. His text expressed perhaps the most profound thank you I have ever gotten from him. After years of not appreciating me, he seems to admire me. I received an email from another ex who is in Italy. I was walking down a street in Chicago while looking at the email on my phone. Once again I was reminded to be happy no matter what circumstances I find myself in.

I seem to have made some sort of fragile peace with my romantic past. And I'm still standing...looking like a true survivor...feeling like a little kid.

more about letting go

2009-07-13T06:13:00.000-07:00

Last night I saw "Nights in Rodanthe" again. I'd seen it on the plane, perhaps on the way to Costa Rica. It's not the best movie, and yet I find it to be quite touching. There is one part where the main character tells her daughter to hold out for the kind of love that makes you want to be a better person.

That made me think of this passage from "Eat, Pray, Love" (yes, I love this book!):
People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that's holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake.

Richard (from Texas) goes on to say that soul mates may come and go, for some come into your life just long enough to reveal another layer of yourself to you. He then says "You gotta stop wearing your wishbone where your backbone oughtta be". I take this to mean that we spend so much time dwelling on what could have been that we fail to see how what we've learned can give transform our lives in ways that empower us to believe. To go for what we want. To live the lives we were meant to live, rather than as shadows of our selves, such as the way the main character in "Nights in Rodanthe" is living at the beginning of the movie (and for that matter, the main character Diane Lane plays in "Under the Tuscan Sun").

Further in the book the plumber/poet from New Zealand gives these instructions for freedom (I've included the 5 I like best; he actually gives 10):
1. Life's metaphors are God's instructions.
2. The day is ending. It's time for something that was beautiful to turn into something else that is beautiful. Now, let go.
3. With all your heart, ask for grace, and let go.
4. Let your intention be freedom from useless suffering. Then, let go.
5. When the karma of a relationship is done, only love remains. It's safe. Let go.

Letting go is one of the hardest ongoing lessons in my life.

This weekend I had dinner with my family for the first time in 3 weeks. I was kind of freaked out at how clingy my sister-in-law was being with her baby son. When she kept telling him how tired he was looking and monitoring how much he was smiling (he'd smiled at me right away), I couldn't hide my astonishment. She was prepared with a defensive and hostile response, asking me if I had a problem with her, while clearly harboring a problem with me and yelling that he was her son and she knew him better than anyone else. I think that she was continuing a conversation that she'd started in her own head, for I don't think this had much to do with me at all. I made a decision some years ago that I would not allow anyone to talk to me like that, so I left and had a good cry.

While this incident was tremendously upsetting, I feel compassion for her. I remember how hard it was to realize that the child I'd given birth to was not mine after all, that really I am just honored with the role of caretaker in his life. I was telling my son the next day (for he witnessed the whole ugly scene and later told the cat how stupid it was) how scary it is to become a parent, what a big job it is, and how afraid we are of screwing it up. I used to drive to work afraid that something would happen to me or to him. But I've come to realize that love isn't about fear. Letting go of the fear makes more room for love.

betwixt and between

2009-07-09T02:03:00.000-07:00

So it's 4 a.m. and I cannot sleep. I think that I've lost more sleep this past month than perhaps all year. I feel like I am being pulled in so many directions at work, and I don't know whom to trust. It's particularly hard for me because I don't work in one particular area, so I work with everyone but not really.

I read this passage in "Eat, Pray, Love" about the Sanskrit word "Antevasin"...Elizabeth Gilbert writes about how this is her word, for it means "one who lives at the border". This made me think about how my time in grad school...when the area of study that I was most passionate about was that of "border theory". I've always felt like I lived on the border between the two cultures I grew up in - German and American. As I grow older, this border has gotten more blurry with time. Not as important to pay attention to perhaps.

Gilbert writes:
[Antevasin] indicated a person who left the bustling center of worldly life to go live at the edge of the forest where the spiritual masters dwelled. The antevasin was not one of the villagers anymore - not a householder with a conventional life. But neither was he a transcendent - not one of those sages who live deep in the unexplored woods, fully realized. The antevasin was an in-betweener. He was a border-dweller. He lived in sight of both worlds, but he looked toward the unknown. And he was a scholar.
...
In the modern age, of course, the image of an unexplored forest would have to be figurative, and the border would have to be figurative, too. But you can still live there. You can still live on that shimmering line between your old thinking and your new understanding, always in a state of learning. In the figurative sense, this is a border that is always moving - as you advance forward in your studies and realizations, that mysterious forest of the unknown always stays a few feet ahead of you, so you have to travel light in order to keep following it. You have to stay mobile, movable, supple. Slippery, even.
...
I've spent so much time these last years wondering what I'm supposed to be. A wife? A mother? A lover? A celibate? An Italian? A glutton? A traveler? An artist? A Yogi? But I'm not any of those things, at least not completely... I'm just a slippery antevasin - betwixt and between - a student on the ever-shifting border near the wonderful, scary forest of the new.
From "Eat, Pray, Love"

I can so relate to this...I feel rather betwixt and between in my own life, on the verge of where I need to be, yet with one foot stuck in my old life. So many of the ways in which I looked at myself in the past don't fit any more, rather like most of the clothes in my closet. Last week I encountered 3 exes...for Facebook is such a funny place for encountering exes. I also heard from a guy, whom I've never even met because he lives a few hours away. And I felt such confusion when I contemplated opening myself to a new relationship. Am I ready to take all that I've learned into something new? Will I ever truly be ready without taking the risk of that first step?

I found myself telling a colleague (who is a pretty amazing guy who doesn't seem to realize it) last night about how my ex told me I wasn't fun and that people wouldn't really like me if they knew me better. Of course I know now that he said that to make himself feel better. But just saying these hurtful things from the past brings on fresh hurt. And they were never true - or even about me - to begin with. So why am I living as though they could be true?

I am not so sure that I am where I need to be - in terms of work, home, friends, geography. I was reading something a friend sent me these words from James Mapes about living an exceptional life:

"And in the end, it's not the years in your
life that count. It's the life in your years."
-Abraham Lincoln,
16th president of the United States

It's quite comfortable to be wrapped in our little cocoon of
routines that give us a sense of being in control of our
lives. It seems uncomplicated to stay stuck in our set
patterns of behavior - doing things the way we have always
done them, walking the same worn path and saying "no" to
anything that pushes us outside the emotional box of our
comfort zone and then rationalizing our choices. It's
undemanding to dream of doing something daring and different,
learning something new and traveling to far away lands.

Unfortunately, many individuals are unable to summon the
courage and commitment to learn what they need to learn and do
what needs to be done to make their dreams happen. And then
there is the often unspoken truth - a great many of us
postpone turning our dreams into action because we feel that
we have all the time in the world. The problem is - we don't.

An acquaintance of mine is fond of saying, "Drink while the
tavern's open" - and he doesn't even drink! But, I'm sure you
get the point. What he's really saying is live life while
there is a life to be lived, take advantage of opportunities
when they are presented to you and get out there and make
things happen. Sometimes that requires being a little
uncomfortable.

Firstly, it's easy to allow your brain to get lazy and when your brain
gets lazy, it stops growing and ceases making new neural
connections. That is just plain unhealthy for your mind and
your body.

Secondly, your most vivid and powerful memories exist because
they were glued into place by your emotions, both positive and
negative. When you have new experiences, meet new people and
take in new information, you create and store away an
abundance of unique, interesting and exciting memories.

Neurons fire, synapses connect and - Bam! - you make those
much desired "brain" connections. You suddenly become more
alert. You "see" with new eyes. Unique opportunities present
themselves seemingly without effort. The quality of your life
miraculously rises.
James Mapes

Indeed.

trust

2009-07-06T06:12:00.001-07:00

Sometimes it's very hard to know whom to trust, especially when you are not very trusting to begin with. People have always said I am a trustworthy person, confiding all sorts of things in me. I try to be honest without judgment. But I've found that people expect me to hold it together on my own, probably because I find it so difficult to ask for any kind of help or support.

I have a weakness: I try to see the good in people. This weakness is actually a strength for a teacher. I find it so much easier to talk to children, for if they know you see the good in them, they will show it to you. With adults it's far more complicated than that. I try to see the good in the adults around me, and sometimes I get played.

No matter how much I get burned in this regard, I still want to see the good in people and believe that they mean what they say. And I am quite fortunate because the people who are closest to me are truly good people.

Still, trust is a process. I read somewhere that trusting someone means not always understanding that person. My ex used to say that I should trust him even though he lied to me. And yet he didn't try to earn my trust. Trust takes time. To me trust means knowing that you can be yourself with someone. That they won't use your words against you. That they mean what they say.

wind horse

2009-06-30T05:39:00.000-07:00

I didn't start my week with the best of attitudes. In fact, my facebook status was somewhere along the lines of: Katharina is diving head first into the mosh pit that is Monday. Oi. It took me about half the day to turn my attitude around. It helped that I had boot camp and took 2 walks. I also went to yoga and then meditation class.

In meditation class we talked about the concept of "wind horse", which is fairly new to me. Riding the wind horse is about riding the limitless energy of your life. The wind is already within you, not something to be possessed, but aroused. What keeps you on the horse is the saddle, your life practices. The horse is your mind. Only in the moment can the horse be awake.

I've been struggling with my sense of purpose at work...because it seems like an awful lot of chaos without end...and without a greater sense of meaning. But we don't always know why we are in a situation until much later...until we have learned something that serves us farther down the road of life.

I drew a card that had this message: The Ultimate Warrior Protects the World. There was a description that fit my current situation. For I am realizing that I am learning a big lesson about being willing to be awake in whatever situation presents itself. To take command of my life, not because of being on the side of either success and failure, for both are part of this journey. It is about maintaining loyalty to sentient beings who are trapped in the setting-sun world and generating compassion for others, with the complete absence of laziness, with unwavering discipline and dedication.

That's quite a bit of food for thought. Something tells me that I will be at this particular table for a while.

Meanwhile, I am dreaming of Italy because I heard from a past love on Facebook. He asked me if I am happy. I am remembering about how he taught me to be open in the moment and not to settle. It was so easy to be with him, despite a tremendous language barrier.

up

2009-06-28T22:08:00.001-07:00

Tonight I walked to a neighborhood cinema with my son to see the movie "Up". He'd seen it before, but he was willing to see it again with me. The cinema we went to serves beer, so I had a Spotted Cow, and he had root beer. In the front there are couches for lounging. Later we ran into my boss, her boyfriend and a friend. I'd just been thinking about the older people in my life who inspire me. I remarked that the movie started off much darker than I'd expected. When we arrived home, my son said that dark things can happen and yet bring out the best in people.

Whoa.

Last night we went to a party held in the Urban Ecology Center, which is such a great place. I saw my son's principal and his wife, plus a number of other native Germans I know. I finally met the daughter of a former assistant of mine. The daughter was telling me that she started going to Africa when she was 45. So she has been going to places like the Congo for about 13 years now.

I have been thinking about how you can change the story you tell about your life at any point. It is always possible to reinvent yourself and go places where you have never been. The movie "Up" is certainly about how it's never too late to claim the "spirit of adventure" in your life.

sticky thoughts

2009-06-24T20:10:00.000-07:00

The temps are in the 90's this week, but it's been a good week so far.

I had to skip boot camp due to waiting for the Otis elevator man, but tonight I decided to work out in the A/C. While that seems a bit wimpy to me, the more important thing is that I found the motivation to my 4 miles. And it felt good.

My son came with me to work today, and as we were leaving the workout room, we heard "what is the taste of greatness" on a commercial. I said I was pretty sure that the "taste of greatness" couldn't be attributed to any particular product. So Gustav said, I'll let you know what "the taste of greatness is"! And then he tasted his own arm and exclaimed, "it's a bit bitter"! Too funny.

Tonight we watched "I Survived a Japanese Game Show". I can honestly say that I have never seen anything like it. One of the contestants sat in a pool and had butter ladled over her. Then she had to make her way over steps and slopes before crawling over 6 sumo wrestlers lying in a row.

my unknown grandfather

2009-06-23T19:34:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I saw my son's father for the first time in a long time. I don't really want to write about that...it is what it is. Reasonably pleasant, but not really the ideal way to start off a Monday. When I picked my son up that night, after a difficult yoga class followed by a tuna melt at a nearby cafe, I found out he watched his first Monty Python. My brother and I used to watch that as children.

Tonight I met my poetry group in the park for a picnic and our poetry reading. It's a park that's small but peaceful...we even saw a deer and had chipmunks approach us. We ate taco salad with chips, pasta salad, french bread with brie and fig jam, chicken curry salad with raisins...and we started (and ended) with chocolate ice cream. We read the poetry of Barbara RAs.

When I got home, my son told me that his unknown grandfather (my father whom he has never met) used to love Monty Python...and that this is what he "got from him". How cool. He also said he wonders how his unknown grandfather likes the afterlife. What a question.

It's very hot and humid this week...I'm thinking about all the people who were in such a hurry for summer. I wouldn't have minded a bit more of a transition...

connections

2009-06-22T05:18:00.000-07:00

I started my morning by reading about a British-Nigerian artist named Yinka Shonibare. I hadn't heard of him before, but I'm intrigued and want to see his work. He said:

You know, all of the things that are supposed to be wrong with me have actually become a huge asset. I’m talking about race and disability. They’re meant to be negatives within our society. But they’re precisely the things that have liberated me. Because they are me, what I express. So it has not been a negative thing to be who I am but a positive thing.

That's truly inspiring, especially on a Monday morning.

I got a lot of reading and writing done yesterday...it felt really good. I was exhausted from the events of the past week, almost hungover, not literally, but emotionally. I like my going out time, but I also need and crave my alone/recharge time. Now that summer is here, the schedule has shifted. In yoga we talked about how the solstice means the "sun standing still", pausing to get centered before the next phase/season. Love that image. We focused on finding our center in several different postures, and I now have this really cool image of a place inside where all my different planes meet, not up or down or right or left, my own power center. Not power to exert over others, but personal power that allows me to be of service to my heart in all that I do...

Still pondering coolness. I suppose I've known lots of cool people over the years, but it's not the fact that they have a perceived status amongst others that draws me to them. How do they look at the world...how do they engage...what do they think about...what are they doing with their unique blend of qualities, perspectives and experiences in their corner of sky? Coolness from the inside out. That's what moves me. I learn so much from people who think differently from me. But I don't try to get to know people because of who they know.

One of my friends proceeded to FBfriend my colleague...it reminded me of when I was in college and had a good male friend whom I hung out with all the time. I had a friend who often told me she thought he was really cool. When I lived in Berlin and was struggling to adjust, really needing to hear from my friends in Milwaukee, it took her ages to write me. When she did, it was to say that she'd seen my friend Rob and they hadn't even mentioned me once...like she was proud to make him her friend and I was no longer needed or missed. He told me he found her off-putting, and I was secretly glad. The situation left a bad taste in my mouth...like I had made the introduction and was no longer needed as a friend. I had a party before I went to live in Berlin, when I was living with 3 guys. It was quite a party...we had a beer lake on the floor the next day. What I loved about that particular party was the variety of people who came together, since I have friends who are very different. My computer geek roommate actually married one of the doctoral students who came to that party. When I lived in Berlin, I had friends from all over the place, and I loved the interactions and exchanges, especially over food/drink.

When I am needed to keep a connection going, I wonder how real that connection if I am somehow the glue. This makes me very uncomfortable. I love bringing people together but not in an ego-stroking way when people are using me to make connections. Somehow it feels like it should be more fluid. And yet isn't that what I say I want to do - bring people together? Am I afraid I will get left behind?

My other friend who came to the festival did not try to friend my colleague. She wrote me that she enjoyed seeing me and hoped I had a good week. That was really nice.

hitting the re-set button

2009-06-21T08:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was one of those days that I still don't understand. But I certainly would like to hit the re-set button today. I think we should get to do-over certain days, but of course we can only greet the new day and re-set our attitudes. So that's what I'll do...I'm also feeling the need for a bit of a de-tox...some slow & conscious yoga...protein shakes. I have gotten less sleep this week than I have in a long time.

I attended a wonderful 2.5 hour yoga workshop about finding center/Anusara yoga. The day started off with 80 temps, and I felt my energy limping along as I drove to the workshop. I didn't eat enough, so I wasn't sure I'd make it for the 2.5 hours. But it was a foundations workshop that went at a nice and slow pace. She even turned on the air partway through.

We had to some partner work, which is always a bit nerve-wracking for me...I always wait for someone to find/ask me. My partner was a beautiful silver-haired woman who had brought her 20-something son and daughter. Turns out she is a yoga teacher, so that worked out well. She took the time to get me to feel what the teacher was talking about in terms of the inner and outer spiral.

The teacher talked about finding center in terms of personal power, not power as defined by the world in business and other relationships, but in terms of finding that place within where compassion grows and sharing that. The workshop was all about locating places in our body that connect us to that power.

And then we did handstands. I remember telling this teacher when I took my first class with her that I "would not be doing handstands". And then one day I had a partner, who happened to be a yoga teacher, and I surprised myself by doing a handstand. I always seem to be partnered up with these tiny women who are surprisingly strong. So when we had to do handstands yesterday, I said to the teacher that it always comes back to handstands. She said I didn't have to do one, and I said yes I did...for if I am truly committed to pushing my edge and finding center, now that I know I can do it, I have to do it again. And again. And I did do another handstand. The first one didn't work out so well because I started thinking about how I had gotten up so I lost it. The second effort was strong, and I did it. It was a pretty awesome feeling. And then I did 3 backbends!

From there I went to the organic grocery store for some food and journal writing time. I had a goat cheese/smoked turkey/fig sandwich that was so very tasty.

Then I headed to a street festival where I met some friends. Then one of my friends saw my colleague who had booked the whole thing. I pretended I didn't see him because my friend was a little too excited to see him...this whole "you're cool for knowing him" thing bothers me. But he saw us and bought us drinks. He introduced me to several people, including someone who was performing that night. Something in me wanted to be anonymous, but he doesn't let me get away with that. I know this is something I need to get over.

Later I was introduced to a friend of his who owned a music store that was a bit of a local institution. Very nice guy and we had a great conversation. But then I realized that my friends who had gone off with my colleague had been discussing me potentially hooking up with that guy, which was not on my mind at all. It made me so uncomfortable that I wanted to leave. I tried to make a joke out of it, but it was really upsetting. And it had nothing to do with any of them, really.

Sometimes a nerve is hit and you don't know why...and you're not prepared for it...but it's an opportunity to get over something. I was transported back to a time when an ex thought it was funny that his friends hit on me, knowing I would never go for them, how much he liked it when his friends complimented him on me, but never truly appreciating my presence in his life. While I've gotten over him, I haven't gotten over what it felt like to be an object kept on a shelf.

Everything in good time. One handstand at a time. One day at a time.

turn or burn

2009-06-20T06:01:00.001-07:00

So my son is coming to work with me a couple of days a week for the rest of the month. I always wait a couple of weeks to start his summer daycare so I can have some time with him. Yesterday he watched some of Ace Ventura Jr. Pet Detective, and upon seeing a sign about a missing ferret, he said he wanted to be a pet detective. I wished I could just stop the car and let him "solve the case"...I wish I knew what Encyclopedia Brown or Harriet the Spy's moms would have done!

Yesterday I had the case of the extremely loud compressor to contend with. I could hear it as soon as I parked my car. But no one knew what group it belonged to. Well, no one except one colleague. He is perhaps the busiest person I know, but he always encourages me, often by saying the simplest (or funniest) things that get me to step up and own my job. I owe him quite a lot, actually. Sometimes it's all about flying by the seat of my pants and laughing as I go... I am most grateful for the people who remind me to laugh and be myself, owning my piece of sky.

Last night I stopped by work briefly...there was a show called "Naked Boys Singing". This was an Off-Broadway all male revue featuring full nudity. It was an important show to host because it had been banned and the ACLU had to intervene. And yet no one I knew had any interest in attending; it appealed to a more specific audience, shall we say. What struck me the most were the protesters. My son was with me, and he asked me about the signs they were carrying: "Turn or Burn"..."For Shame"...

I explained that they felt homosexuality is wrong because it's different from how they live their lives...and that they feel they know God well enough to judge other people. I said that I think God is bigger than that, that we were all created to be different and it's okay to be different, even when we don't understand the choices that others make...that it's up to them how they choose their lives, not us. He said that someone should say "For Shame" to those protesters...that Love is bigger than the Universe.

Amen.

burnt toast

2009-06-19T06:46:00.000-07:00

Wow, this morning I was just thinking about how I haven't blogged since Monday, and someone else noticed! This has been such a strange week, whether it be due to the weather or work, or a combination of both, I don't know. I haven't had a day off since the weekend before last...perhaps it was the Sunday before last? I can't even remember the weekend before last. I feel like toast. Burnt out toast. I did get a journal and wrote in that a bit at the beginning of the week. But I don't even feel caught up on emails, which is rare for me. I think that part of it has to do with the fact that I don't like to spend time on complaining...and it's been a frustrating week.

On Monday I had a strange experience that has been bothering me all week. I had a board meeting, and one of the board members, a man in his 70's, came early. We'd already discussed what he wanted to discuss on the phone, but apparently he wanted a chat. I rather think he is lonely. But he happened to come during the one lull I had before the meeting. Usually when I have a meeting there is so much going on that I don't even hit a lull. But there was the lull...and there he was. I told him I was still finishing things up for the meeting, which was true because I hadn't made the photocopies yet. He parked himself at a desk and put his feet up. Then he proceeded to watch me make copies and collate them. He said I was very good at that. While I think he was trying to be funny, it came out in a creepy way. I fled to the part of the building where the colleagues in my age group were setting up for a punk show. I'm so grateful to have people to vent to at times like that. The saving grace of the evening was the punk show. I sat in the balcony with my colleague while he told me funny band stories. While I never looked much like a punker (except perhaps for the asymetrical haircut I once sported...and perhaps the biker boots with short skirts look that I had for a long time), I will always have an old school heart, I think.

There was a fight in front of my office...not a serious one. But I didn't like how the guy was talking to his girlfriend. She certainly participated because she kept the argument going. Finally I fled to the fire escape where the roadies were. I told one of them that I thought that one of the bands - Japanther (I find this to be the funniest band names ever) seemed like a comedy act to me - and he told me that they have quite the following. I was trying to process this information when the music promoter came out and said we were going out. It was quite the amusing night, but I don't think I could maintain that lifestyle for longer than a week. There goes my fantasy of becoming a roadie...ha.

I try to get a decent amount of sleep, at least 7 hours, so starting off the week with only 4 hours of sleep was something I felt for the rest of the week. Definitely an off kilter feeling.

It was my son's last day of school on Tuesday, so we celebrated with dinner at our favorite place, Noodles. He had a very good report card, I am pleased to say. I thought his report card deserved a new book or two. So even though we'd been to the bookstore the week before to celebrate his end of soccer season game, we went again. And I decided I deserved another book too...

On Wednesday my son came to work with me. The day started with an early morning meeting, and when the ladies' auxiliary arrived during our meeting, one of the ladies was startled to see that there was a real boy in the office. It's been a while since I've brought him to work, I guess! Her exclamation struck those of us in the meeting as being very funny, and I almost lost it by bursting into laughter. Later the ladies invited us to their luau. Sure it was a bit silly, and while it's not my thing, I love that these ladies meet and enjoy one another's company. Gustav was patient despite the fact that he was asked his age/grade/school repeatedly. One of the ladies coughed when she walked by, and I was startled and proud when he asked her if she was okay. Later he said that we are VIPs. I was a bit taken aback and asked what he meant. My job consists of a fair amount of grunt work since I am the only office person. He said, well you are a director and I am a director's son. He wasn't so thrilled with our long walk to the bank and my other job though; the sun had come out hazily. It went from being cool to quite humid. At my other job he made me a paper clip chain and laughingly chained me to a computer...sometimes I do feel rather chained to my computer! One of my colleagues was telling me about a contract she is writing, and Gustav asked her if there were "drawbacks". Where did he get that word from...and when did he start taking notice of the work I do and become a part of the conversation?

That night we went to an African concert in the park. A friend of mine started this band ages ago, and I think it's pretty cool that he continues to raise money for his school back in Africa. It was the first time I'd seen them perform. Many of his band members are from other bands we know. I knew a lot of people in the audience, and I was so tired that I didn't feel much like being social. I was thinking about how I've paid so many of the performers in town. Sometimes I feel like people see dollar signs when they see me. The other day one of the musicians asked me for yet another favor, and I jokingly said he should dedicate shows to me. He laughed. I said...for the rest of the year. Someone told me the other day that they see me burning out on all the bookkeeping...that I need to do more creative things, like organizing festival entertainment or putting together classes. It's not so easy being an administrator and reminding people of budget restraints...especially in the non-profit world during a recession.

I just read a piece by Ode Magazine where they interview Marc Ian Barasch. He says that a recession is a good time for people to develop more compassion for another. The phrase that jumped out at me was: Stay awake and be kind.

It was nice to see people of all ages dancing to the African music under the sun. But I didn't feel like dancing. I felt just like watching and taking it in. I saw a couple I haven't seen in years except for on Facebook. We exclaimed - Wow, you are not on a computer screen. So we talked for a bit about schooling. Their daughter started first grade the year I left the school, so I never got to teach her. I told them about the Montessori talk I heard last week, and the woman was saying that it's hard to determine what the best schooling for your child is...and it's hard to resist getting caught up in the competition with other families. She shared the conclusion that I've come to - all that matters is that our children learn how to be happy. And it is something that we need to model as parents, educators, members of the community.

My son ran around with the other kids for about 2 hours, so I stayed longer than I wanted to. As the concert was ending, we headed over to my main job, where there was a punk show. It was my son's first punk show, and I think the concert staff thought it was pretty cool that I brought him. We went up to a part where there were no concert goers, so we were well-removed from the moshing. The band was called "Propagandhi", and they use their music to promote their causes: animal rights, human rights, environmentalism. They won't go on stage unless there is a talk of some kind. So there was a short speech by a member of a rain forest initiative. This was right up my son's alley. I had to talk to him about the blue language the guy used (such as his use of the f-word as a noun, verb and adjective)...to reinforce what I've said before...that it's not the words themselves that hold meaning, that it's how they are used. He knows that it's inappropriate for children to swear, and that there are situations where adults shouldn't swear. But he also know that adults swear without thinking. I don't swear too much, and I apologize to him if I say something around him, such as in traffic. I used the opportunity to tell him that there are some situations where strong language can be used as punctuation to convey a strong feeling. I also talked about how music can be used to help bring about change.

I was thinking about the happy African music I'd heard earlier when I was listening to the hard-driving music of the punk band. Personally I need aspects of hard and soft in my life. I was thinking about how different ways of expression speak to different people...so why not have different kinds of speech...music...art...to speak to all kinds of people in an effort to make the world a better place. I was also reminded of when I used to be very involved in my church until my friends started saying that I should be in church more. If the people who most need to hear a good message are somewhere else, such as in the bars or on the streets, shouldn't I be there, out in the world? Aren't those the people who need my help? I see the value in going to church, but I'd rather go where my help is more needed.

So this week punk music put the biggest smile on my face this week when I was down, and that's a pretty cool thing.

Perhaps it sounds odd that I took my 9 year old to a punk show. I was pleased that he liked it...if his head-bobbing and diving into beanbags is any indication. We also went down to look at the info tables, and he took pamphlets and stickers about the environment and animal rights, the causes he feels very strongly about.

When we left at about 10, he told me that I have a pretty cool job. I've been really questioning if what I do is worthwhile, and I can't think of a better testimonial than that. I am realizing that what I do serves to support the work of others. Someone told me the other day that I'm the person to whom everyone comes. It's just hard to maintain diplomacy when overwhelmed by all the negativity of others. Sometimes I need to dig deep to continue to be encouraging. Sometimes I need to be encouraged too.

I'm off to find some yummy jam for my "burnt toast". ;)

water thoughts

2009-06-15T13:07:00.000-07:00

Since I have a meeting tonight, my work day got off to a late and leisurely start. I went to a rally about stopping the initiative to privatize water. There were quite a lot of people I knew, including an old boyfriend who was in costume. Someone made the point that if water is privately owned, this would work against the conservation movement because of the effort to profit from selling water. Someone else made the comment that the sky would be next.
Scary stuff.

Then I had a working lunch...the most delicious grilled salmon/salad. I'm looking forward to the punk show after the board meeting. I'm told that the lead singer from one of the bands performs in his boxers. I think I'll need some comic relief after what may very well be a long meeting!

I've been listening to a lot of Wilco and wondering what took me so long...

running log

2009-06-14T20:50:00.000-07:00

After working all weekend I squeezed in a run...and managed to get to FOUR MILES! It was difficult, especially after being outside for much of the day and feeling a bit dehydrated. I did take a break for water, but then I kept going. It's amazing how you can talk yourself out of something you know you can do.

Yesterday I was joking with someone about how I felt like there was an "ornamental" aspect to my job. And then today when I was asking if someone needed help, the response I got was - just stand around and look good. You do that well. What an ironic thing to hear. I've known the person who said this for a long time, so I think he meant it as a compliment. I still took it as my cue to leave. Gustav spent a lot of time at the craft table making me bracelets...and some had symbolic meanings that were quite detailed. He then helped out the younger children at the drum circle. Later he said he wants to be an artist.

a smattering of thoughts

2009-06-14T06:16:00.000-07:00

...which are more than a bit scattered this weekend. It's feeling a bit like a Wilco song!

It's a working weekend, but it's a beautiful one. I got to work early in the afternoon yesterday and got the lay of the land for that night's show...then decided to take an early break. I took a long walk in the sun to the public market for an iced latte. Then I went to Anthropologie to try on things I'd seen the other day, but I couldn't decide on anything. There is a new shirt style that has a dropped waistband. I kind of like it, but it's also kind of shapeless. I saw a couple of women wearing the super long sundress, and I just don't get this trend. It's pretty, but I need to be able to move more. From there I went to the paper store and looked at expensive journals. Then I found a journal for a fraction of the cost at Borders...a knock-off Moleskin. What I don't like about most journals are the lined ones, especially lined ones. I don't write really small, but I don't write particularly big either. I prefer graph paper, which is easily found in Germany. And I've got to have my fine line black ink pens too! Because of Pride Fest there were quite a few motorcycles in town. Once again I was asked where I am from. My friends think I should start making up things. Perhaps I could be a former secret agent from Prague...

I did manage to get all of my financial reports for Monday done. As far as that night's show went, I felt like my presence was simply ornamental, which is an odd feeling. I didn't go to it as it's not my kind of music. Instead I had a drink with my concert promoter colleague who tells me funny music industry stories. I think I really need to sit and laugh, having been immersed in numbers and listening to people running around during a sound check. My colleague is a bit younger than I am, and somehow we know a lot of the same people without having met back in the day. We were at the bar of a restaurant, and a guy from the band for a wedding came up to us. The guy seemed familiar to me, but it took me a while to realize that I used to know him years ago...he looked quite different. He was talking about how it's hard to get gigs these days.

Today is looking like another beautiful day...which will be perfect for the street festival I am working. I have to meet the artists and help set up. That won't take long, and then I will be forced to have fun! :) The drum circle usually ends up being quite big due to all of the musicians who stop by...some of whom play later in the day on one of the stages. I'm hoping to sneak in a run today because I haven't been running since Thursday. At the bookstore yesterday I was looking at a book about running, written by the author Haruki Marukami, and he says that one needs to keep working those muscles regularly if one wants to run more. I'm wondering if that's true and if I should be running more than 3 times a week. My boot camp trainers think that running short distances is better, so I think I need to do some research.

rituals

2009-06-13T10:32:00.000-07:00

I think it's pretty funny that the clock of this blog makes it seem like I write 2 hours earlier. This morning I posted at 6:30 a.m. when it was really 8:30 a.m. and I'd been up for all of 30 minutes. I tend to get up at 6:45 and go to bed at 10:45 or 11:45, depending on how long I read. I stopped wearing a watch years ago because I found that I spent more time looking at it then doing things. Now I find that I have a pretty good instinct for knowing what time it is. Except for on the treadmill when 5 minutes have passed but it feels like 20.

I was feeling a bit overwhelmed about time this morning because I am working all weekend. And then an appointment was canceled, which meant I could stay at home and clean and do laundry. It's a nice feeling to leave the house knowing that you will come back to a clean house.

I am feeling appreciative of certain products that make me feel good...self-care is an important part of ritual! My mother taught me early on that the most important beauty ritual is skin care. I try to spend the first hour of my day writing, reading or thinking. At least 20 sun salutations before leaving the house (this summer I need to find more time for yoga!). The nice thing about long hair is that you can wash and go...making time for other things. I love products like Alba's body polish...Burt's Bees facial cleanser...Alba extra rich body lotion...Alba face cream with jasmine/vitamin E...Aveda shampoo...Calyx perfume from Prescriptives (which few people know about!). And Stonyfield Chocolate Underground yogurt!

Off to start a weekend of work.

winning thoughts

2009-06-13T06:30:00.000-07:00

"All great champions, most of whom are optimists, have become great because of - not in spite of - great adversity. Michael Jordan, a perennial optimist, once said, 'I have missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I have lost almost 300 games. On 26 occasions I have been entrusted to take the game's winning shot...and missed. I have failed over and over again in my life. And that's why I succeed.' If ever there was a case for optimism, this is it."

Robert Mack in "Happiness From the Inside Out: The Art and Science of Fulfillment"

Friday Thoughts

2009-06-12T12:16:00.000-07:00

I started my day with meetings, both of which were outside. What a way to start out a beautiful day! At one meeting we were brainstorming about the children's area for a street festival. I was kidding around and said that people should bring their kitchen sets. And then I thought about it a bit and said...what about a community event where people actually brought their kitchen tables and shared a meal with a random group of people so as to facilitate a community discussion...because so many things can be resolved when people sit down to talk and break bread at the kitchen table...? They liked the idea. At the next meeting I brainstormed with my colleague about how we can promote wellness classes and how we can get a yoga class going. That would be seriously cool.
Both of my meetings were off to a late start, which meant extra reading time in the sun! I've been reading Wayne Dyer, and he mentioned Abraham Maslow. Last night I went to a talk given by a Montessori teacher, and I'm thinking about how important it is to teach children self-respect. I found the following quotes:

If you plan on being anything less than you are capable of being, you will probably be unhappy all the days of your life.
Abraham Maslow

One's only rival is one's own potentialities. One's only failure is failing to live up to one's own possibilities.
Abraham Maslow

The ability to be in the present moment is a major component of mental wellness.
Abraham Maslow

At the talk last night someone asked about discipline in a Montessori setting, and the teacher replied that they teach the children self-respect along with high expectations for mature behavior. Very little discipline is needed because of how they treat the children. That made sense to me because I have seen that in my own child. When he sees the show "Supernanny", he can't believe how badly the children are behaving. But when the teacher talked about how much the children love school because they are engaged and interested, I felt a bit like I should have checked this philosophy out when my son was younger. Yet I know that his current school has been very good for him. Someone asked about Montessori graduates and their success rates. Someone else asked a very important question: How do you measure success?

I measure success based on happiness. If my son becomes a schoolbus driver and is happy, that would be cool with me. Tonight at the organic grocery store a man in a wheelchair came up to me to say that my son is a very polite boy. He went out of his way to say that. Now that makes me more proud than if my son were to make a goal in a soccer game. I think there is a difference between living life as a winner and thinking that life is about winning.

Dyer writes about how we use all kinds of excuses to keep ourselves from living the lives we want. The key to getting what we want is believing we can have anything that we want, being grateful for everything we already have, and not being attached to the outcomes. We can know that things will work out, but we don't need to know how they will work out. Easier said than done, I know...I certainly don't mean to imply that I find this to be easier to live than anyone else. And yet it really is quite simple once you let go of what gives a false sense of security. If you let go of fear, the excuses of not doing what you really want fall away. If you let go of what seems safe, there is freedom in endless possibilities. Perhaps this means letting go of a job that seems safe in order to do what you really want to do. Or moving from a place where you are comfortable and everything is familiar. This takes the willingness to be open and trust in the good stuff...to let go and let God move through us.

Dyer provides these quotes: "If your willingness to give blessings is limited, so also is your ability to receive them." (Lao-Tzu) "...enthusiasm signifies God in us." Madame de Stael "When a man is willing and eager, God joins in." Aeschylus

Dyer also tells this story:
There is a widely told story that speaks to the value of compassion. It seems that a woman living a Tao-centered life came upon a precious stone while sitting by the banks of a running stream in the mountains, and she placed this highly valued item in her bag. The next day, a hungry traveler approached the woman and asked for something to eat. As she reached into her bag for a crust of bread, the traveler saw the precious stone and imagined how it would provide him with financial security for the remainder of his life. He asked the woman to give the treasure to him, and she did, along with some food. He left, ecstatic over his good fortune and the knowledge that he was now secure. A few days later the traveler returned and handed back the stone to the wise woman. "I've been thinking," he told her. "Although I know how valuable this is, I'm returning it to you in hopes that you could give me something even more precious." "What would that be?" the woman inquired. "Please give me what you have within yourself that enabled you to give me that stone."

Now that's a powerful story to ponder.

Tonight I am going to a party for someone who is making a choice I don't understand. And while I see "red flags", I know it is not my place to give unsolicited advice. In fact, I know that she has received plenty of that. And I also know that she is happy. There is no guarantee that any of us will be happy tomorrow or next week or next year. What I do know is that we have the choice to be happy in this moment, and a commitment to making the choice of happiness makes all the difference. This doesn't mean attributing happiness to outside things/appearances. Besides, what I think of another person's life isn't relevant to the life that they are actually living. And yet I also believe that if I am asked for help, I need to give it as honestly as possible. I recently heard the phrase "what another person thinks of you is not your business"...so why live life according to what others think? Instead, share all of the happiness that comes your way, and it will always keep growing.

running log

2009-06-11T14:50:00.000-07:00

I took two nice walks along the river today. One was to the bank, and then I had to walk back because they called work to say I left my iPod. I tried to demand an actual iPod instead of my little mp3 player since that's what they said, and they were cheeky enough to say that they already listed it on eBay. Funny guys. Then my friend asked to take a walk over lunch. I had to get over to my other job anyhow.

So late this afternoon I took a break from payroll and hopped onto the treadwill. While my concrete experience the other day went well, I still don't want to push it. My shins are still feeling just a smidge tight. Plus I don't have time if I want to make it to a talk tonight; I don't want to work too late. I try to get into the workout room before the elderly lady who likes to walk on the treadmill gets there, and I was somewhat successful. I don't think she likes how loud my music is. And I don't like the fact that she puts the news on. There was a nice breeze coming in because the door wasn't quite shut. She went over and closed it securely, which was a bit of a bummer. I have wanted to ask her if she is walking why she doesn't just walk outside when it's nice out. But today I noticed that she goes at a pretty good walking clip, and I have to admire that. She's doing it her way, so who am I to say how she should be doing it? It's cool that she does it regularly.

So I made a few observations about my running today. It was really easy today. I could have run longer, but I didn't like how sweaty I got. Since there are showers at both of my jobs, perhaps I should come prepared to take a shower? I also noticed that I prefer loud and fast music on the treadmill because it is BORING. Today I listened to Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. I finished with Butch Walker's "Hot Girls in Hot Moods"...I think it's funny that I like that one, but it happens to hit the right note.

I also noticed that I wanted to run faster, so I cranked up the speed a bit for the last 5 minutes. I'm pretty sure I could run more just by cranking up my attitude that much more.

I also noticed that I really need to get a new journal. Perhaps I'll write more there if it's a journal I like...! Ha.

I LOVE this quote: Be yourself, everyone else is taken. (Oscar Wilde)

daily encounters

2009-06-11T10:38:00.000-07:00

There are no failures - just experiences and your reactions to them.
Thomas Krause

Just saw this quote and I really like it. I had a bank errand that turned into a much longer errand than intended. The banker said that he appreciated having a client with a sense of humor, like it's a rare occurrence...which seems sad to me. I ended up getting a lot of advice about fencing, which is the sport that my son has chosen for the fall. This means I have to learn about fencing too...should be interesting.

There is a man who sits at the bank I go to for work. He sits there all day waiting on his disability check. All day long he wishes people a good day. I love the fact that the tellers are so nice to him. Even though he asks the same things over and over again, I haven't seen anyone lose patience with him. That's inspiring.

End of Season Thoughts

2009-06-11T05:22:00.000-07:00

I had to pick up Gustav for his last soccer game of the season, so it meant leaving work early on a beautiful day! When I picked him up at aftercare, the ladies were saying how much they love Gustav because he makes their day. My little comedian. He sang for them while I put on his soccer socks and shoes.

Then we raced through construction traffic to get to the park and just barely made it. I sat next to the deaf mother on our team. She has other children, so I haven't seen her very much. I reached out to her via email and at the lunch we had last week, and I think that she really appreciated this. She tried to talk to me a bit, joking about how her son had on different socks. I wished I knew some sign language, because it's quite hard to make sure someone sees your lips while watching a soccer game! It was an unlucky and difficult game for the boys, most especially because only half the team showed up and there weren't any subs. Goal opportunities missed when the ball bounced off the goalpost. Yet another child made a goal for the other team. The other team had made several goals, but their coaches were loud and relentless. I think we should teach kids to play for all they are worth, but we should also teach them to be gracious winners and losers. They weren't overtly rude about it, but nor were they sensitive about it. I was watching Gustav on the field...he likes to run. And he makes an effort to pass. But he is more afraid of the ball this year. The coach put him in the goalie box for the end of the game, which is nice since we are leaving the team. I have been the manager for 4 years. I don't know if the parents quite realized that, but I think the coaches were sad to see me go. We worked well together. While our team didn't win a great deal and my child never scored, I think there were good people on the team, which made for a good experience.

But I got to wondering. My son takes after me in looks (not coloring) and temperament, for he is sensitive to the feelings of others, intuitive, flexible, doesn't get into trouble at school, fun-loving, kind. Have I neglected to teach him some aggression so that he can play better with the boys? He really doesn't care all that much about winning. He doesn't like to lose, but he doesn't dwell on it. He doesn't like the fact that he is not very good at soccer, but I still believe strongly that he needed an experience where he wasn't immediately good at something and had to keep working at it. Besides, there is our deal that if he wants to continue to play video games, he must be engaged in a physical activity. I'm not raising a couch potato! It's likely that he will end up being tall and lanky like his father, but I want to teach him that fitness is a life habit!

He doesn't care too much about grades either. I've always told him that I expect him to do his best, and now that he has had so many A's, I've said that he should keep trying for A's...that the grade doesn't matter as much as the effort. (He was telling me that B's and C's are okay, and I said sure. But you are capable of A's... He got the picture.)

So I was thinking about aggression, and last night a man who parent-coaches 3 soccer teams wrote to all the coaches and managers about the dirty play he sees being encouraged on the field. I admired his courage for doing this because it's obvious he has gotten flack for stating his opinion. I haven't seen our coaches encouraging this, but then again, I've also noticed that people don't seem to hear the put-downs the kids say to each other. One kid made a point of telling my kid how badly he plays...but it was no surprise given how that particular child, who is a good player despite his small stature, is yelled at to be better by his father at every game. I try to teach my child that a put-down like that has more to do with how the other child feels about himself. We were talking about swearing the other day, and I said that if someone really wants to offend another person with words, a way will always be found. I'm not going to get all upset about a swear word; that will only teach a child that a "word" is inherently bad. I would rather spend time teaching my child about respect.

We celebrated the evening with a trip to the bookstore, Noodles and Baskin Robbins. At the bookstore the bookseller got a bit confused. Gustav is 9, but because of the kinds of books he is reading, she tried to get him to join a book club that is for 6th, 7th, 8th graders. I couldn't help but be proud...

We want the best for our children/students/family members/friends...but sometimes their best is just waiting to bloom. We can help them by giving them room to grow by letting go of our expectations!

pura vida dreaming

2009-06-10T12:35:00.000-07:00

Today I am homesick for Costa Rica, which is funny because I don't think I have ever been homesick for anywhere other than Germany. I have also never been the beach-sun-ocean vacation type. I think that what I miss the most is the laid-back happiness and joy for life that I encountered...the lack of telephones...the loose plans...the enjoyment of the most simple things such as a glass of fresh juice or a plate of beans & rice with freshly baked bread.

After dealing with insurance issues and fighting/jockeying for power of others, I am ready to throw my telephone out of the car window while hitting the road to drive towards the south!!

TAGGED

2009-06-09T16:00:00.000-07:00

is an awful phishing site. I got sucked in by an email that said my friend Anna wanted to share photos. I didn't know what "Tagged" was, and then I forgot about it. I got yet another email indicating that Anna wanted to share photos. So then you have to create a profile in order to view said photos. But there were no photos to view. Within an hour I was getting emails from men in their 20's. Since I already deal with such men at work who don't seem to realize how "old" I am, I don't need emails like this in my in box. It took me a good while, but with great relief I figured out how to cancel my profile. After my successful deletion exercise, I had the funny thought that if I were a guy, I might not be complaining about 20-year olds of the opposite sex so much!

running log

2009-06-09T15:16:00.000-07:00

I took a break from work (and a meeting that really didn't require my presence) to check out a trail near the lake. I decided that I am ready to run on concrete...that I know enough to prevent injury. There is a little park by the lake, near the art museum and Discovery world, and a girl at a running store told me it's almost a mile to run around it. It was my first opportunity to take a good look at it, since I've only seen it from a distance, from the Summerfest grounds. It was quite beautiful to run around the area of native grasses that is being cultivated and to be joined by all the birds, or rather, to join them. There were even large geese walking around, cool as cucumbers. At first it was just me and the wind and the water...and then the distractions started up. Why is that couple letting the dog off the leash - isn't that against the rules (yes)? And isn't the dog going to run up to me (yes)? And why are those guys taking a car to check out this area? Where did that bike come from? Just then Cold Play's "Beautiful World" came on my mp3 player, which took me back into my run. It's not my job to worry about who is following the rules. Not all rules are good ones anyhow.

So I ran my 30 minutes, and I walked about 30 minutes as well. I've come to the conclusion that I need a little running purse. And running pants that don't fall down. Slick new shoes would be nice. And an iPod would complete the makeover. :)

I walked through another park on my way back to work and saw 3 men sitting on different benches. I thought to myself - why do I always assume strange men sit alone in parks. That's when I noticed one of them was passed out. Yet another was spitting into a puddle of spit on the ground next to him. I rushed past the third one. Sometimes parks are sad places.

the meat of meetings

2009-06-09T09:24:00.000-07:00

I'm digging deep for a good attitude today. I like this quote:

A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving. Lao Tzu

How often do I say it's about the journey itself? And yet I get frustrated when I feel like I am going in circles.

I feel like I spend a lot of time getting ready for meetings where little is accomplished. Some people schedule their lives around meetings while others spend time avoiding them. I feel like I spend an inordinate amount of time trying to get people to commit to meetings. I was just thinking about how the best meetings are those where people feel like they are equals with valued contributions and can find encouragement and support. But how many meetings are like that? And if I am part of a meeting, what can I do to make it the kind of meeting I would actually like to attend? I can't change the attitude of others, but I can certainly change my own. I'm realizing more and more how rare it is to find people who truly listen and engage with others for a true meeting of minds and hearts.

Sometimes I feel like I am at an ego dude ranch where my job is to tame the egos around me and put on a good show. People rely on me to set a positive tone, but there are times where that is truly a challenge. There is only so much complaining and griping I can hear before it gets to me. As a teacher I never questioned if what I was doing was worthwhile; there were constant reminders on the faces looking at me.

I've also been thinking about first impressions. Most people think I am confident and outgoing, and while that's certainly true, I can be quite shy. Adults don't pick up on the shyness, but children do. I remember one day when a child plopped herself onto my lap and then looked up at me to say "You are shaking". And the child I was holding also held me...what a gift. How often we take the first step in putting someone else at ease and forgetting to worry about what they might be thinking of us so as to meet them where they are at? First impressions can be nerve-wracking. But I have a new question. How do you meet someone for the first time when you already know that person in your heart? It's the sort of question that once spoken ceases to be a question at all.

yoga and meditation log

2009-06-08T18:56:00.000-07:00

I don't usually keep track of my yoga like I do my running...but why the heck not?

The day started off cool and dreary, but in the afternoon it had become a humid haze. I walked to my other job and started to get a headache. It felt like little men sitting on a bench in my head and getting ready to start hammering. A co-worker asked if they were like the Russian dolls that open to reveal even more men, and I said yes, the three men might well become thirty soon.

But I decided I needed some protein (flax-enriched peanut butter on crackers), some music (Blind Pilot), and to write a couple of emails which brought me into a different head space.

Then I headed to yoga, feeling like I had to go, but not entirely certain that I wanted to go. The tornado sirens may have had something to do with that feeling. When the weather is as odd and changing as it was today, I tend to react to it by being out of sorts myself. I felt quite sore at the beginning of class; I think that means I need to do more stretching...and perhaps that I need to move more when I am sleeping We did a more intense pigeon than I think I've ever done, and the teacher kept using the word "surrender", and something within me loosened.

I went outside, and instead of continuing on to my meditation group, I skipped it without any guilt. I went to one of my favorite stores, Anthropologie, instead. I love the part of town that my yoga studio is in. So perhaps it was a shopping meditation...at any rate, I decided to surrender to a happy feeling and stay with it. They were about to close, and I usually have trouble finding things that I like, even if it's a store I like. I found many things that I liked! There was something very inspirational about that 10 minutes...the colors, the textures, the patterns, the shapes.

The weather was so amazing when I emerged from the store that I went to a nearby cafe. I decided to have turtle cheesecake and decaf coffee for dinner. When I asked the guy behind the counter if I could eat outside, he said he would welcome the excuse to get out and wipe the tables. After the odd weather all day, we'd finally reached the perfect weather. It really was incredible to sit outside while the sun set and I felt the lake effect from the distance. I had my new book with me and read for a while. I almost didn't buy this book because it's about excuses and how we can change the way we think. I really believe this, and as I read, I noticed a number of things that I agreed with. There were 18 excuses, many of which I've observed people making on a daily basis. And while I try not to use most of those excuses, I did find 2 big excuses that I use myself. I also read about awareness and alignment. Meditation is not always comfortable. It is not about going to a distant happy place. It is about being more aware in the moment and being in one's body. The yoga teacher was telling us about how he used to spend hours trying to get his feet behind his head, thinking that the roof would open up and the Dalai Lama would appear. When that didn't happen, he realized that putting his feet behind his head was a good bar trick.

And then after the good food for my thoughts, I decided to get flowers for dessert. I usually prefer to enjoy flowers that are still living, but sometimes I make exceptions. :)

Monday Meanderings

2009-06-08T05:20:00.000-07:00

The weekend ended on a good note. It seemed like it would be cold and rainy, but the sun made a valiant attempt to come out. While I was tempted to build a cozy fort under my bed (yes, I am kidding), I seized the moment and we headed to Target and the organic grocery store. At Target I had to get razor blades, but does anyone ever get just one thing at Target? I certainly don't manage that... At the grocery store I debated getting a cup of coffee since it was 4:00, and I usually stop drinking coffee in the morning. So I decided to get a cup of decaf, which they'd just run out of. The guy said I could come back, and they would probably have some made. I said that I really wanted the real stuff so why not get the real stuff. He said, yeah, what's the point of decaf anyhow? It just gives you the illusion that it's different. And I thought about that...how often do we play it safe like that, just because we think we "should"? If I think that drinking a cup of coffee will keep me up all night, it probably will, whereas if I don't think about it, it might just not matter so much.

But I accidentally put Stevia in my coffee. Yuck.

On the way home I scoped out bike trails that someone had told me about the night before. My mother told me a while back that I could use hers, so I just need to get the tires looked at. It's not so easy to see bike trails from a car!

My son wanted to watch "Marley and Me", so we finally watched it at home last night. I thought it was a comedy. I suppose it is. But I was crying the last 10 minutes or so! The main message was that dogs can teach us quite a lot about love. Nice movie...I just didn't expect to get so caught up in it!

I also started the Wayne Dyer book "Excuses Begone" after Gustav went to bed. I've been a Wayne Dyer fan for years, and I heard him on a PBS special that I caught a few moments of...I liked what I heard, so I got the book.

He writes that he has been called a Pollyanna (how often have I been afraid of that very thing), but that he embraces this, saying that he finds it an honor. He says we're here to create our own music and we don't need to die with that music still in us. I read this quote this Monday morning:

You elevate your life by taking responsibility for who you are and what you're choosing to become. You can transcend the ordinary, mundane and average with thoughts of greater joy and meaning; you can decide to elevate your life, rather than have it stagnate or deteriorate with excuses. Go beyond where you presently are.
Wayne Dyer

the stories we tell

2009-06-07T11:28:00.000-07:00

Summer is the time when one sheds one's tensions with one's clothes, and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief that all's right with the world. ~Ada Louise Huxtable

The above quote was a Facebook status that I saw today.

This weekend is anything but summery, so it feels the opposite of the above quote!

Last night I saw the Moth, which is a storytelling non-profit performance group from New York. It was great fun to hear the stories, which all have to be true and cannot be scripted. Some of the tellers had better delivery than others. I think that my favorite was either the fake eyeball story or the one where the storyteller told of how he came back to life, so to speak, after being stabbed in New York City. My guest was my boss from my other job, a storyteller and artist in her own right.

I am fascinated by the stories we tell about ourselves...I feel that there is great healing to be experienced through the creative process of storytelling. I remember telling one of my German classes a Good Samaritan story: I had helped a young mother with a stroller and a dog get a cup of coffee so that she wouldn't have to deal with the steps into the cafe. The cafe owner remarked that I was being a Good Samaritan and how we need more of those sorts of moments. Upon leaving, I fell on a patch of ice and the hand holding my nice Italian wallet went plunging into the dirt of a flower pot while my favorite pants ripped at the knees. I was glad I was still near home and could change clothes. I told my students that instead of deciding that it would be a "bad day", that this meant it would be an especially good day.

And it really was a very good day. There is great power in the things we tell ourselves about how our lives are. If we tell ourselves that our lives are especially stressful, our lives will indeed be stressful.

I love the stories one of my co-workers tells about the inner city children in her art/fashion classes. She was telling me the other day about how her father always told her that she could live the life of her own choosing, that skin color is not a limitation. And I see how she strives to teach kids to think about the slang that they use, how they can work a bit harder at how they present themselves to the world by believing in the inspiration they can find within themselves.

I've only known this co-worker for about a year. She told me the other day that the only kind of guy she could see me being with is someone who also must have music in his life. She notices and celebrates my new shoes with me. She is perhaps the only co-worker who enjoys the creativity of fashion like I do, except she can actually sew and make her own clothes. She even made me a hat for my birthday last fall. She notices if I am walking into the room with any tension and looks right at me and tells me to slow down and let it go. She always makes me laugh. She told me the other day that I've inspired her to wear skirts. She'll call me on a dare.

I'm thinking about her because of what happened with my friend from out of town the other day. That friend said to me that I should trust her because she has known me for so long. I don't think you should trust someone if you can't trust your instincts at the same time. I had an ex who told me I should trust him - that he should never have to call to tell me what he is doing, but that he should always know what I was doing. I don't think that the definition of trust includes the word "should".

I think one form of trust comes when you share stories. You don't have to see a person every day to pick up the thread of their unfolding story. You don't even have to be in the same place at the same time. My friend from out of town hasn't known for quite some time what my life is like. I am not even sure that she knows me all that well because sometime when she says something about me, it sounds like she is talking about a character from a different story.

I love hearing the stories people tell about their days...it tells me so much about where they have been and the snapshots they took from those moments...what conversations they heard...what they saw that gave them pause. To me this is openness. And yet not many people will readily answer the question "How are you?" Or the question "How was your day...really?" Sometimes the stories we tell about ourselves are so old that we don't realize that we are repeating them without learning much of anything. I've decided that the story of my life is one that changes with each new day. I don't mean that it is a new story every day. I mean that there is room for the stories of others. A bit of authentic life improv, if you will.

making life lesson lemonade

2009-06-06T05:54:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a very difficult day. I'm not entirely sure that I should be writing about it here, but I think that these are very human lessons to learn, especially as they continue to unfold.

The day started with a visit to my brother's. I stopped by Starbucks on the way to get him the decaf vanilla latte he wanted (he had drunk most of it before I realized that I forgot the decaf part -oops!). This is certainly not my favorite place, but people were in a sunny mood that was infectious. Or perhaps I was the one in the sunny mood...I'm not entirely sure. I listened to Jack Johnson on the way because I had this feeling I needed to keep my spirits up. I tend to think that if you think it will be a difficult day, your thinking will contribute to making it so...

A little boy came in with his mother and paused in the doorway of Starbucks, staring at me. I couldn't help but laugh and said it was nice to be the object of fascination for a moment. The best part about visiting my brother was how my nephew smiled and laughed and calmed down for me. And he fell asleep before my hour was up and I had to get to work, which made my brother very grateful. My brother and he are still getting used to each other as they embark on the journey of paternity leave together. He was talking about how the baby picks up on his anxiety as he tries to figure out how to do things. I think the baby picked up on my calm and peace...but once I left their house, I started to lose sight of that feeling.

Work was non-stop crazy chaos, whether I was dealing with people who were rushing around or people wanting information that I couldn't yet give because other people hadn't gotten back to me. There was also a riverfront festival getting started in the area. Things finally got resolved that evening in a mall parking lot, oddly enough. I did have a break when I went to boot camp. It felt like an especially difficult session because we will be off for 2 weeks and we had a finisher. As we were finishing up, someone from class walked in with a new person. This is a woman I used to work with, someone from a hurtful time at the school I left. It was because she didn't take the time to talk to me before spreading something to the other teachers that wasn't quite true. And I thought about how much of a challenge it would be for me to have to share this class with her. I think it would be awesome for her self-esteem. And yet I would have to be open to changing my opinion of her.

At that point I visualized a picture someone had sent me of wild daisies in his yard. The thought of the simple beauty of wild flowers caused me to dig deep and find a moment of peace before the day took off yet again with a wild lurch.

How often do we get caught up in things that really aren't all that important? How often is it the most simple things stop us in our tracks and remind us of why life is worth living?

I had been dreading an evening with friends out of town. I decided I should change my attitude. And then I got a call from them at 2:30 when they were heading into town. I asked when they were picking up my son from school, which was the original plan. I was going to try to leave work early and meet them for dinner. This was so the two older boys could finally hang out and play. But my friend exclaimed that there was no longer room in her car because she'd invited the other friend and her 2 children. And that's when I lost it. I tried to be flexible and understanding of each change to the plan, but this went too far for me. All I could think about was how my son was counting down the days until they came. How he thought he was being picked up by them. How she called me several weeks ago to suggest this visit for our boys' sakes. How she changed the plan just last week. How she was changing the plan in mid-air.

She said that the whole reason for the day was to see us, but her actions told me otherwise. I don't think that what happened was personal or had much to do with me at all. I think that more than anything she needed to sit down and talk and get my support. Sometimes we get so stressed out that we create more stress...because it's more comfortable and familiar than stopping long enough to make a change and give ourselves what we really need.

The kicker was when she angrily said this is my life with 3 kids when I said something about how she had chosen to add another family to the day, which made things crazier. (There were 5 kids and all of them were screaming.) It sounded like a mantra that she has been saying to herself, and I can only imagine how overwhelmed she must be. But there comes a point where we have to stop using excuses. We could get competitive about who is more stressed because of kids or jobs or situations, but who really has the most stressful situation? We can choose to believe that our lives are incredibly stressful and watch them get more stress-filled by the day, or we can do something to change this. I know people with no children who are incredibly stressed. People with 5 children who are some of the most chilled out people around. It's not really the circumstances of our lives that make us more stressed. It's how we deal with those circumstances. I really believe this. But the choices we make about how we deal with stress shouldn't be used to judge others for making different choices.

I had good evening with my son. He is such an awesome little person to talk to. Of course we were both disappointed, but this was an opportunity to talk about how we are human and disappoint each other.

The really confusing part was when my friend got angry because I somehow couldn't see that the day was about me. The people at work with me said that something wasn't quite right with the whole situation. I thought the day was about the memorial service she attended earlier in the day. About the support she needed for all the grief she has been carrying for months. Our mutual friend seemed to think the day was about her. That friend was in my living room just a few nights ago in need of a pep talk, showing no signs of knowledge that she would see me a few days later.

How often do we get resentful about what we are supposedly doing for others? I have certainly been guilty of this, more times than I care to admit. I think we say this to our children, to our parents, to our colleagues, often without realizing it. The problem is when we expect others to realize what we are doing for them, when we are really neglecting to take care of our own needs. So we really aren't in a position to give what we are actually withholding from ourselves. If we are resentful of the fact that they are not seeing what we are doing for them, perhaps we are not doing it for the right reasons. Or perhaps we just have the order of things mixed up. It's part of our human condition, I think!

Sometimes we have to say to a friend that we cannot join them on their crazy train. It might be time to say I'll meet you at another stop, at another station in life. I will even pick you up in the middle of the night. But I cannot join you on this crazy train right now.

That's very hard to do because the friend may think you are not being a friend at all. But sometimes the most loving thing is to let that person go through whatever it is they need to go through without adding your own feelings to the mix...and wait for them to get to the other side.

When my son went to bed, I opened a box my brother had found in my mother's basement and given me earlier in the day. It was a box of letters from when I lived in Germany as a grad student. The letters and photos were from many different people who were from all over the map...I'd forgotten how many interesting people I met then. Of course I know even more cool people now. But no one writes letters any more. Somehow I happened upon the ones where people were letting me know what I'd meant to them, and this was such a gift to me at the end of a day of profound disappointment. It was an uplifting reminder of how important it is to be real with people, how often we don't see the ways in which we touch the lives of others in the moment. It's certainly not something we can control, not in the ways we think we can. I am reminded time and time again of the importance of stopping and taking the time to be grateful for the people in my life. But of course I forget and need to be reminded over and over again!

I took one of those stupid facebook quizzes the other night. The question was - what inspirational word are you - and mine was Peace. If someone asked me what religion I follow, I'd have to say that it all boils down to Love. And my commitment is to Peace. A friend of mine who is working in South Africa made a comment that he is grateful for how I share peace.

Yesterday felt like it was about anything but Peace. But sometimes the best teacher is the opposite of what we strive for.

thoughts about "The Shack"

2009-06-05T05:27:00.000-07:00

Today is a day for digging deep. I truly believe in setting an intention for the day at the beginning and keeping a positive attitude throughout. But some days are especially harder than others...requiring constant maintenance...and chocolate! I'm thinking about a pep talk I gave this week...and giving myself one.

I finished the book "The Shack" earlier this week. It's essentially a journey of forgiveness. The main character has to dig deep to forgive in order to understand the power of love and grace. He had a bad relationship with his father, which is never really explained, and he feels like a terrible father because his youngest daughter was murdered. Because he has trouble with the whole father concept, God appears to him as an African-American woman. I especially liked this bit. He visits the beautifully chaotic garden of his spirit with the Holy Spirit, the gardener. He walks on water with Jesus.

I am trying to remember the parts that spoke to me the most.

"Is that why we like the law so much - to give us some control?" asked Mack. "It's much worse than that," resumed Sarayu (the Holy Spirit). It grants you the power to judge others and feel superior to them. You believe you are living to a higher standard than those you judge. Enforcing rules, especially in its more subtle expressions like responsibility and expectation, is a vain attempt to create certainty out of uncertainty. And contrary to what you might think, I have a great fondness for uncertainty. Rules cannot bring freedom; they only have the power to accuse."

This reminds me of Pema Chodron's book "Comfortable with Uncertainty", where she writes about embracing uncertainty and going with the flow rather than working against it.

More at another time.

support

2009-06-04T20:29:00.000-07:00

I'm facing a bit of a dilemma. I have a dear friend coming in from out of town tomorrow night. She asked me about getting together several weeks ago, saying she is really looking forward to talking to me one-on-one. She has been having a very tough time this past year, but it just seems like she keeps piling on the stress. Now she has changed the plan and invited a mutual friend, who needs to be the center of attention. That friend has been calling me for advice lately because she is going through some big things right now. I kind of feel like tomorrow will end up being about the second friend, especially now that I just read on FB that she is looking forward to her day tomorrow with the other friend. No mention of me. And I am the person who lives here. It's kind of bizarre the more I think about it. I'm not really sure why my presence is needed. I could really use a relaxing evening, but this feels like it will be anything but.

I want to continue to be supportive to both friends...without all the drama. And yet I cannot deny my friends when I have been blessed in so many ways. There are many ways to show support. Perhaps this is an opportunity for me to find a new way? I'm just really not sure what my role in the situation is. It's kind of like when a friend tells you he/she wants to talk, but then you spend the evening doing something else entirely wondering what on earth they wanted to talk about.

I'm reminded that you can know people for a very long time. I have some really old friends that I don't need to see often in order to feel a sense of closeness. You can know some people really well and travel through all kinds of changes with them, from afar and up close. And some people you can see every day without ever scratching the surface. You can spend hours with a person without listening or seeing. And yet you can see and be seen by someone you have never even met in person. What a wonderful thing.

all in day's work

2009-06-03T11:04:00.000-07:00

Today is one of those days where I am reminded that I am not following my life's calling. Yet I like my jobs, and I feel quite fortunate to have them. I enjoy the opportunities that come my way on a daily basis, and it feels like I am learning quite a lot for the future. I just don't yet know/see how these things will be applied. I miss teaching more and more as the year progresses and I am reminded of the fact that I am no longer on a school calendar. I cannot remember when I haven't been living on a school calendar if perhaps ever. Last night I was visited by a friend who is going through a divorce and needs a teaching recommendation, and we were talking about the "job market". There was also an interesting conversation about teaching on the soccer field recently. One dude was talking about the money to be had as a teacher, and I kept thinking to myself, yeah, that's why people get into teaching...the money...NOT!

I am pondering the pros and cons of working with men. They are more laid-back, while also being more action-oriented. I feel uncomfortable when I am the only woman around, and there is subtle flirting to contend with, for that makes me feel more like an object than a valued colleague. I just don't like that vibe in a work situation. I find that I am wearing shoes with heels as a bit of a self-defense mechanism, as well as humor to hold others at bay. I was supposed to go out with people from work the other night and chose to stay in. When I heard about the club and what the women were wearing that night, I was very glad that I didn't go. Men also deal with power differently. I dealt with a VIP yesterday, not knowing he was a VIP. He didn't bother to introduce himself. He personified arrogance to me, so I had a feeling about who he might be, and then I confirmed it with one of the cleaners. It was interesting to see how the demeanor of the other men in the situation changed. I would rather deal with the cleaning staff or waitstaff any day of the week!

One of my dreams is to work with at-risk youth...kids who get pregnant, hooked on drugs, caught up in a crime. I worked at a juvenile prison as a librarian and learned quite a bit about this population, and that only scratched the surface. I'd love to teach movement and language...give kids something to grasp onto that would give them a different feeling about themselves. I would like to do some yoga teacher training, but I don't know how I'd find the time/funds. I have some ideas for the gym where I work, but I need to start thinking about grants and partners.

I am also thinking about what my new yoga teacher said to me. He said he feels that yoga and running are on opposite ends of the spectrum. To my mind's eye running is hard and yoga is soft, and I like the balance that the two activities bring to my life. Boot camp incorporates a lot of yoga, as well as cardio and strength training, and I am attracted to the balance therein. My boot camp teacher was saying that one thing that turned her off about yoga was that some yoginis seem to think that yoga is all there is. I've noticed this too...and while it's the foundational activity in my life, I want to do more.

More to ponder.

running log

2009-06-02T15:17:00.000-07:00

So I am not feeling so great. Stomach a bit wonky. PMS clouding my brain. But today was the day. Three. Bloody. Miles. It's been years since I ran three miles. I have hovered at two miles for months now. I've told myself I have only 15 minutes anyhow. That's as long as I can last. I'm busy. Two miles are enough with everything else I am doing. Walking is good too. And yet the decision to quit martial arts to pursue something I am more passionate about allows me to push past my limits. Sometimes you have to say no in order to be able to say a more resounding yes to something else. Tonight I realized that it really does get easier the more you run. So much of it is mental. I realized the treadmill is not so different from the rectangle of my yoga mat. The meditation cushion. When I reached 1.5 miles, I started to think about how two miles are really enough. I can stop there if I want to. I don't need to prove anything to myself. I did a difficult boot camp session yesterday. But then I remembered that I can do six hours of yoga in one day. I can meditate for an hour. So why can't I run for 30 minutes? Ah. I can.

belly flopping

2009-06-02T08:15:00.000-07:00

It's cold and rainy today, but I've decided it's a Jack Johnson kind of day. I might even have a new favorite song...here are some lyrics from "Better Together":

There's no combination of words
I could put on the back of a postcard,
No song that I could sing
But I can try for your heart,
Our dreams, and they are made out of real things,
Like a shoebox of photographs,
With sepiatone loving,
Love is the answer
At least for most of the questions in my heart,
Like why are we here? And where do we go?
And how come it's so hard?
It's not always easy,
And sometimes life can be deceiving,
I'll tell you one thing, its always better when we're together

And all of these moments
Just might find their way into my dreams tonight
But I know that they'll be gone,
When the morning light sings
And brings new things,
But tomorrow night you see
That they'll be gone too,
Too many things I have to do,
But if all of these dreams might find their way
Into my day to day scene
I'll be under the impression,
I was somewhere in-between
With only two,
Just me and you
Not so many things we got to do,
Or places we got to be
We'll sit beneath the mango tree now

I had to go to the bank, and after I made my deposit, I went and got a skim latte. While I was waiting, I was looking at a cocoa tin with an image of an elephant wearing swimtrunks and belly flopping in mid-air. What a silly image...and yet it brightened my day to imagine elephants doing belly flops from the clouds.

here comes the sun

2009-06-01T12:10:00.001-07:00

I woke up feeling a bit off on Monday morning. Sort of out of sorts. It was looking cold, gray and rainy, but the sun came out after all. It was also a humid sort of day, which used to mean the potential for sinus headaches. I seem to be doing something right because that isn't the problem it used to be. I fared quite well in the rain forest, so I have a better attitude about humid weather now!

People tend to laugh at me if I say I am having a crabby day because I don't stay crabby for long. And I'm usually laughing when I say it. Once I notice the mood, I consider it a challenge to change it. I started the day with an email that made me smile because it started with the words "Magnificent Monday"...certainly has a better ring than "Manic Monday". Why do we assume that Mondays will be bad?

So I went to Trader Joe's to get some board meeting snacks. I ran into a new friend, who has the cool job of doing signs for Trader Joe's. I really like her artwork, and she will be making a wallet for me. I always seem to run into the right person at the right time, but that seems to be a matter of paying attention. We were talking about being drawn to a more laid-back lifestyle and how some people are so used to stress that they get more stressed being around someone who is relaxed and then they try to hand off some of that stress, saying they simply cannot relax. Not long ago someone told me that I make things look too easy, and I didn't know what to say to that. It's not that things are any easier. It's attitude.

Speaking of things I find difficult...

Boot camp was especially difficult in the vintage humid gym. At the end the trainer told us that she had been at a retreat with other professional trainers, and many of them hadn't been able to finish a simpler version of the workout we did. Somehow that didn't help, but I am looking through the lenses of PMS this week. Later in the afternoon I got an email from a yoga instructor about a yoga for runners' class that I'd decided to go to and then decided not to go to. So then...I decided to go. I actually felt better after the class. The teacher walked me out saying that he prefers to teach yoga to athletes because they are capable of more, and he went on to say that everyone in the class is obviously an athlete. Ha! I felt like a bit of an imposter. I especially liked the guided meditation and what he told us about protecting our back when we run.

From there I went to meditation group, of all places. I like this group because it's so informal, with discussion and psychology and book study mixed in. And it ended with someone doing a beautiful Native American chant that touched me so deeply that I couldn't find words.

When I drove home, the first song I heard on the radio was "Here Comes the Sun" by the Beatles...I'd been thinking about it the day before but not because I'd heard it. What a way to end a day, while driving into the sunset. I was glad I persevered and didn't give up on the potential for it being a Very Good Day.

dreaming of africa

2009-05-31T07:35:00.000-07:00

It's been a weird and wacky weekend thus far...

On Friday I went in to work at noon. I saw one of my colleagues, who was with one of his colleagues, a choreographer/dancer. I was a bit embarrassed because she kept exclaiming about my improved shape. I don't really know this woman, but it was quite a compliment because she works with dancers. But I was also thinking about the fact that I have been dressing differently. Recently I sorted out some clothes to give away and noticed how frumpy and shapeless my teaching clothes were!

That night I went to a show by myself...my friend didn't show up until I'd been there for 2 hours. But it was a nice evening...I'd gone to the restaurant where I work because they'd asked me to open up the elevator. I realized I was hungry so I asked for some cheap bits of fish...I get embarrassed because they don't let me pay. But instead he gave me a plate of grilled salmon...which was so good, especially washed down with the Guinness he also gave me. I headed to the show with my book, feeling foolish for going so early, only to find a huge line. But I saw someone I knew, and he let me jump the line, thank goodness.

I don't know why these little perks make me feel so funny. Perhaps it's because I should earn these things...I always ask myself what I did to deserve that kind of special treatment. Or perhaps it's because I don't want to feel like I "owe" someone. I'm not entirely sure. I knew the sound guy, so I didn't feel too funny about being there by myself. Later there were 2 rather drunk women standing in front of me having a loud conversation (why go up closer to hear the music if you are just going to talk during it?!) and mentioning someone who works there, someone whom I know also. They were talking about getting backstage or something like that, and while I understand the impulse to get closer to the band, why are those people more special than others? When I went to the bathroom, I saw the cleaning guy...I know him from where I work, and he's the nicest guy. He got me a drink, and I thought about how he is just as much a VIP as the people in that band.

I got an email this weekend from the people I went to Costa Rica with...they are talking about going to Africa next year. I'm intrigued because they are talking about working in an orphanage in Tanzania for a week and then spending a week climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro or going to Zanzibar. So I'm dreaming about Africa and wondering how to afford a trip like that. Where there is a will, there is always a way! Africa is on my bucket list, and I don't want to go as just a tourist to a place where help is needed.

It's my brother's birthday, so we got to hang out for a bit this weekend. My bro is so funny...he complained that I haven't written on his Facebook page lately. That's very funny because he never writes on mine, but I am supposed to write on his? I really enjoy being an aunt. My nephew Liam was a bit fussy yesterday, but I had great success amusing him. It's funny how I am not self-conscious singing to a small child.

Lots of soccer this weekend...the season is almost over. Looks like it's our last season with this group. We've learned a lot over the last 4 years, but now the kids are at an age where they are looking to get into "select" groups. My son made an interesting comment as we walked to the field yesterday. He said, "I know why my team is having so much trouble, Mama. They have two problems. They don't know how to work together, and they don't know how to respect each other." Wow. I noticed later that he was the only kid who made a point of high-fiving his teammates when they left the game so that others could take their turns. When the game was over, my son was saying "good game" to his teammates as we left...and they barely took notice of his words. Probably because they didn't win. I think it's important to play a game for all you are worth...but if you don't win, isn't that an opportunity to dig deep for the next time?