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November 3rd, 2010 (wait – this for Ashley if she reads this – I did it! I did it! I did it! – a complete standing toe pose! Far cry from just trying to stay in the room six weeks ago!)
Standing toe pose is very challenging. You hold one foot on your opposite thigh, bend forward til both hands touch the floor, then sit down balancing on one foot. (see pic of Buckram doing it perfectly)
After six weeks, fighting heat and humidity, racing heart, and sheer exhaustion, today I decided to go for it. Six weeks ago I decided it would be spring before I even attempted that. Our teacher always said not to get anxious about the poses we cannot do yet. Be patient with ourselves. Move slowly each day, maybe pushing one tiny increment further each day, and one day it will just happen. It did it just that way to me today. I did not go to class planning to try that pose today. For six weeks I just stood on one leg, holding up my other one, balancing until everyone else was done. For some unknown reason, when it came time to bend over and touch the floor today, I just did. Then the teacher, knowing it was my first attempt, gave me guided instruction and down I went. I amazed myself. It felt good. Good to have something happen that I didn’t plan. Good to just lean into my body, my own strength and breath, and complete a challenge.
Maybe tomorrow don’t wake up with expectations – good or bad. Just wake up and open yourself up to the day and see where it takes you. Many times we wake up expecting a great day, only to be disappointed, setting ourselves up for failure. Or, we wake up expecting a bad day, depressing ourselves before we start. Maybe tomorrow we just wake up. Stay open. Don’t expect either way.
Another day goes by, this yoga connects me to the real world once again, and I have written.
November 2nd, 2010 Short n’ sweet tonight because I have to get back to the book ….
Pick up “Water For Elephants” by Sara Gruen….profound on aging.
Another day goes by, I have written, but now back to the book!
November 2nd, 2010 It felt good to have Monday come and know it was Monday! Going to yoga every morning at the the same time all week has not only organized and settled my life, in general it’s made me happier. I feel a little bit like my old self before retirement. Weekdays are weekdays and we have work to do and weekends are weekends and we spend time home. Right now in my life, where I am, this couldn’t have come at a better time. The loss of my mom and worry about my dad was too much as I floundered around without a schedule to ground me. Granted, no one but me is telling me I have to go there, but I know it’s the best thing for me to go everyday and I will never skip unless I’m out of town or really sick. Besides, now I’m up at 6 am and raring to leave the house by nine!
It’s an amazing thing, this Bikram yoga, and I wish I listened to my daughter a year ago.
So, another day goes by, I look forward to tomorrow, and…I have written.
(this was written yesterday, bur I changed my passwords and didn’t know my blog wasn’t posting)
November 1st, 2010 But now I am mostly at my window….
My window is the place where alot of change takes place. It is where I see each season melt into each other. My window is a place of peace as I gaze out at the landscape below. It is also a place for anxiety as I wait for a loved one to return home in a storm. My window is a picture frame that depicts how my day is going to go as it shows me the fog out on the ocean – means a cool walk this morning , driving rain means a day spent indoors by the fire. The daekness of night ends my day by my window. Time to rest and wonder what my window will say tomorrow. My window means many things to me. Mostly it means I have arrived – I am home safe and sound.
October 30th, 2010 I posted yesterday on Facebook that my husband was on his way home and I bought some wine and paint. A friend of mine came back with some comments. First he said “wine and paint? What are you doing?”
I said, “Redoing the bedroom ?”
He said, “Wine and paint, you’re an artist. Paint and no wine, you’re just a painter.”
I loved it! But I still can’t figure out how I am an artist when I was drinking wine AND painting my bedroom? Maybe because I’m still drinking wine, the painting is done, and I am writing this.
Another day goes by, wine and paint are both good, bedroom looks great, and I have written…..may not have said much, but I have written!
October 29th, 2010 Soooo today the cape morning temps were in the 40’s – humidity gone! So how did my yoga class go today? PERFECT! Absolutely perfect! No breathing trouble at all. I actually got to pay attention to each movement and work on each pose. Thank goodness it wasn’t JUST about losing focus. Today I didn’t even have to think about my breath. The sweat dripping and the heat meant nothing. I didn’t drink water or fidget with my clothing. I was able to get the full benefit of each rest pose.
Today I also noticed more changes. I noticed extreme changes in my hips. As I lay on my back and touch my hipbones all of a sudden muscles that were hidden all my life by fat are now appearing. I was like- what are these? The next change was no coffee afterward. All week I drank less coffee each day than I poured out after I got home. My caffeine craving is way down. Today I didn’t even want to stop for the coffee. As far as food goes, instead of needing an immediate meal or snack when I get home at 11:30, I find I can do other things and not really crave food til almost 1:00 – from 7am. There is definitely something to this Bikram yoga. It’s now been 5 weeks and the changes are evident in my daily life. The jury’s still out – but I think we got a winner here.
And as another day goes by, and my breath was good to me today, I say good night and…I have written.
October 28th, 2010 Today's yoga class was my toughest one in the four weeks I have been going. My heart gave me a run for my money today and no matter how hard I was focusing on my breathing, I found myself either on my knees or laid out flat on my mat for many of the standing poses. At one point I felt an actual chest pain and decided right then and there this was not a day to push myself. Each time I got up and got into the pose, I just held it there and didn't try to push further. This seemed to help, although I could still feel my heart on the verge of launching itself into panic mode. Then the instructor opened the windows wider and more frequently than normal. Next she opened the door all the way (which she never does – we're lucky if she opens it a crack for two minutes at all), so I knew it wasn't just me or my heart. As soon as I felt the humidity drop in the room, I was renewed, and able to move easily into the floor poses. After class, talking with the teacher, she agreed it was the humidity and said at one point it was 60% in there. Optimum is 40%. Again, I felt validated that I had no more problems after she addressed the humidity, and felt victorious that I didn't panic and leave the room as I had done in my beginning days. (Those memories always linger in the back of my mind.)
Reflecting on this after class, I began to think of next summer – uh oh – how am I going to do this during a hot humid summer? The word goal sprung into my mind. I'd work all winter building up my heart muscle to be able to tackle next summer's humidity. I realized my heart is the muscle I need to pay the most attention to. I can do 40 min of interval cardio at the gym, bringing my heart to 162 for two minutes, then down to 130 for two minutes, and the top heartrate for my age is 163, so I'm good, right? Wrong -apparently I plateaued at that and have been sitting there for years, not really strengthening my heart.
The cardio in Bikram yoga is far more rigorous than any workout you could devise, so I guess I'm in the right place. The funny thing though? I thot about the doctor, but quickly put that thought out of my head. I have an annual physical with a cardiogram annually, and all is fine. I am in the place that cures whatever ails me and right now, it's the screws loose in my head, as Bikram says, that need the attention.
And so, as another day goes by, both heart and mind exercised thoroughly, I bring you a gift. Today, I have written from the beach on a warm late October day….join me and enjoy…….
October 27th, 2010 …think you can't – either way, you're right, so says…Henry Ford, my yoga teacher, and my best friend.
Getting up to go to yoga this morning was tough before I even got out of bed. I didn't get many hours of sleep and have been navigating my way through an emotional jungle lately, so right from the get-go I had it in my mind that this was not going to be good. A little voice kept telling me "You don't HAVE to go you know". As I was driving there, I just knew today I was going to lose focus and breathe myself right into a panic attack. Then I remembered we were supposed come to class each day with no expectations. Don't look back. Today is a different day. Ok. I just thought getting myself there was good enough, but as the first few poses started, I was already looking for my breaking point. When would the pixeling that preludes passing out, begin? I swear it was hotter in that room today. Ahh, the focus fell away and my heart began to race – here it is, gonna have to lie down after this one.
During the rest period the instructor says "If you think you can, you probably will, if you think you can't, you probably won't, so either way, you're right. What are you thinking today?". Hmmm…. I was pretty much in the "can't" camp today. Contemplating not getting up after the 20 second rest. Suddenly I changed camps. Told myself to stop, get a grip, and focus on the breathing and get back in the game. I did. I completed every pose and though it was extra difficult today, I made it to the end. I'd never felt so pushed to the extreme before, and when I opened my eyes to get up, I found I was the only one left in the room. Yes, I guess it was an extra tough class…l am never the last one out of the room – I always have something or somewhere else I'm anxious to get to (even if it's only after yoga coffee).
Sometimes we have to take some time with ourselves, but not be gentle. Learning to kick your own butt back into focus is an art in itself. Looking within yourself for strength and concentration and not depending on people or your environment to right your world, is a valuable skill to possess. Kind of helps you head off making mountains out of molehills, so to speak, and drive yourself even further off track.
All in all, as another day goes by, looking to the breath, finding focus in your own eyes in the mirror, once again saves the day, and…I have written.
October 26th, 2010 Saving Jemma is a book, written by my friend, Pamela Lowey. It is her first published novel and it’s a great story. It is available on Amazon, Borders, and Kindle. As soon as it was out, I got it on my Kindle. I was enjoying it so much, halfway through I had to stop and email her to tell how awesome her writing was. If you are a fan of Kristin Hannah and/or Elin Hildebrand, you will love Pam’s book.
Now I’m not only blogging about Pam’s book tonight because I loved it so much, I am also telling you about it because Pam is an inspiration to me as both a friend and a writer. She has courage. Now you might think that is a funny word to use to describe a writer. After all, what’s so scary about pencil and paper? Tonight renown author Anne LeClaire spoke at our Cape Cod writers Halloween get together. She began by asking if there was anyone in the room that was never afraid or fearful of anything in their life. Of course, no one raised their hand. Fear is every author’s nemesis. Fear of rejection. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of ridicule. Fear of even taking that big step and actually beginning to write something. She once heard a college professor instructing her writing students about overcoming fear. When asked to present their work, the voices started. I’m nervous. This is a really rough copy. This needs alot of work. She told them to stop. She told them whenever she hears the voices of fear starting in her head, she imagines a Mason jar. She puts the voices in it, screws the top on tight, and let’s those voices of fear screech and scratch inside the jar where she can’t hear them. She told her students to put their voices in such a jar and just get up there and present their work. Anne herself told of her fear of a bad review – then she got one. She said she did the whole curl up in bed, suck my thumb, and I’m never gonna write again thing – then she sat up, said “Fuck you!” and moved on. She left us with the message that we can’t take the criticisms, rejections, and ridicules personally. We, new and experienced writers alike, have to exercise our courage and stand up to our fears, put them in the Mason jar and screw that lid on tight.
And that is why I write tonight about my friend Pam. First, she had the courage to believe she COULD write. Then she had the nerve to actually sit down and begin writing. Finally, and this is the big one, she had the courage to put her writing out there.
I applaud you, Pam. You are an inspiration to me, a hero. I’m happy for you that your book got published, and I’m happy for me, because I got a great read. Hope they’ll be more where that came from.
As another day goes by, fears go in the jar, a new author is born, and thanks to courageous inspiration like Pam’s…..once again, I have written.
PS- Get Saving Jemma by Pamela Loewy
October 25th, 2010 …someone comes along and knocks a block out from under you, and you land face down in the “humble pie”. Or as my dear husband put it to me in a beautiful letter the other day, you think you have all your ducks in a row, and suddenly one becomes dinner. I loved that analogy.
I am usually not a vulnerable person, but in the last few months I’ve had a few of what I call “smackdown moments”. You think you got it covered. You absolutely are confident you can do it. You did your homework and know all there is to know about it. You’re not afraid to put yourself out there and venture into a new territory. You think you are invincible and that which brings others to their knees, can’t touch you. Then wham! Out of no where, your not even one tenth of who or what you thought you were.
At first, it feels like a sucker punch to the gut. First instinct is to run away and hide. Quit trying. Shield and protect yourself from this awful feeling again. Though the “sucker punch” feeling keeps resurfacing in the coming days whenever you think back to the incident, you put it away and resolve not to be brought down. You’re not sure you’re ever going to try again, but you know you’re not going to fold up and die of extreme embarrassment either.
Thoughts of inadequacy bubble to the surface. Are you important to the people you love? Do you have anything worth saying? You start stumbling through thoughts and going down roads you should stay away from. Add a couple glasses of wine, and the road now becomes a ride along the edge of a steep cliff. Thank goodness all of this useless soul searching takes a few hours, and, after the wine, you are now tired and head for bed.
How does this end? It ends in the morning. It all looks different in the morning light. Instead of trying NOT to go through it, I now plunge into it headlong, feel it completely and then, trust in the morning. It always comes. It always saves you. And so, as another day goes by, another glass of wine empties, I place my trust in the morning, and I have yet again, written………
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