|
|
April 4th, 2012 Tonight I went to yoga, had a fantastic class, but on the way home decided I must finish this series. So here I sit, after a shower and dinner, while American Idol cranks away in the background (I’m only interested in Jessica Sanchez, because I think she’s the winner), and I’m making my way to the end of this story.
Without giving up any of the details out of consideration for those of you still catching up, I stand amazed at how the conditions in the story changed a character’s mind. The helplessness of trying to untangle cobwebs and reach someone who is closed off and mentally in another world is so frustrating. The author does a great job of drawing the reader into the situation. The story is picking up pace and I’m anxious to get back to it, so….
As another day goes by, I better stop before I say too much, and… I have written.
April 3rd, 2012 Last night’s yoga class was extremely hard for me because I was severely dehydrated from my weekend. In all the hustle n’ bustle of moving my daughter I was not conscientious of the amount of water I did not drink. Knowing I was going to have the same teacher today and was once again going to be pushed beyond my max, I made sure that didn’t happen again. In class this morning, my friend next to me quit some of the floor poses abruptly and the instructor asked if she was okay. She said she had a cramp in her calf. The instructor said it was not enough potassium. If you get leg and toe cramps, it’s a sign you need to replace potassium.
Lying there in savasana, it struck me how much everything we cannot do inside that studio points out something we are doing or not doing outside the studio, and vice versa. The panic attacks I get when the humidity rises show me just how much I let my mind get away with. As soon that happened last night, I immediately thought, practice gently, move very slow going in and out of each posture, waste no energy on extra or fast movements, and this resulted in normal breathing, and the panic subsided.
Over the weekend when we were all tired and still had much to do, I felt myself going to a place I always defaulted to – snapping at everyone and feeling sorry for myself because I’m tired and just want to quit. This time as soon as that feeling came over me, I reacted the way I do to panic attacks in the studio. I immediately reigned it in, regained composure, took back control of my mind and relaxed. It was a defining moment. It turned my night around and made life easier for everyone else. I ended up staying the night and taking the pressure off – which I would’ve ended up doing anyway. The result would’ve been the same, but only after a lot being upset and then wasting more time calming down.
Everyone says “Do yoga. It centers you.” What they don’t tell you is it takes over a year of working with yourself in a completely private place, away from the rest of your world, to even begin to know what that means. It takes a whole lot of self-study to have everything emanate out from within you, instead of being a defensive, knee-jerk reaction to everything coming toward you.
And so, as another day goes by, I find taking the time to learn who I am is sometimes uncomfortable, but it definitely is the road to a more peaceful existence, and….I have written.
April 2nd, 2012 This weekend was spent moving our Boston daughter into a new apartment. Last night, after being bent over an Ikea bed for four hours, I decided to stay the night because we still had a desk to assemble. I drove back today went to night yoga, dragging a bruised and broken body into the studio for some much needed repair. My teacher from the black lagoon was there to greet me and her class did not disappoint. I left thoroughly twisted, stretched, heated, and…feeling amazing…not only physically, but over the fact that I pushed through the whole class, took good care of myself, turning what could’ve been an “I’m giving up class” into a “This is exactly what I need class”. (I also had no idea the fan was on for the whole last half of the class.)
My persistence in the mirror had me thinking of the unwavering persistence of the daughter whose move left me in this achy condition. Switching careers from teaching to writing is like starting life all over again. I’m stumbling one day and strong the next. I was drawing on my daughters example of how, the moment she graduated from college, made up her mind she was going to be a graphic designer in Boston and nothing was going to deter her. She just moved into her third apartment in the city, and recently started a new job there – all improvements and steps up in both situations. And she’s only 26. Thinking back to her unwavering tenacity five years ago, and moving her this weekend, made think as I zeroed in on my own eyes in the mirror tonight, that I should take a lesson. Set my sights on what I want to do, focus, and don’t be deterred. Quite a kid I have here. Where did she get that from?
Then I almost fell out of standing bow laughing. I decided at nine years old that I was going to be a fourth grade teacher. I decided at twelve years old my husband was who I was going to marry. By thirty I decided I was going to retire to the cape and write. And NOW I’m questioning if I’m going to be successful at it?
And so, as another day goes by, I learn from my child to stop and take a look at just who I was….and still am today, and …I have written.
April 1st, 2012 It’s exactly 1:47 am and I am the only one awake, huddled in my bed, electric blanket keeping me warm, the TV quietly humming HGTV, and I am so engrossed in Mockingjay that I just can’t put it down and go to sleep. Never mind that I have to be up at 6am, on my A-Game, ready to drive to Boston and finish my daughter’s move.
That’s how good this series is. Now, I know the big conflict of this series is how can we let our kids read a book about killing each other to survive. Well, I’ve read over a thousand books in my lifetime and I’ve never come across one like this. The author definitely has come up with a concept to rattle all of our brains, tug at our hearts, and send our thinking into overdrive.
I must admit this third book moves slower than the rest. At first I thought it was a flaw of the writing. Now I think it was intentional. Most books start with a protagonist having a problem, build to a crescendo, resolve the problem, and then gently end. I think this author did all of these things, but did it over three books. I feel like I’m in the ending. It’s still so hopeless. It’s still so hard to move from event to event, so unlike the first two books that moved so quickly, I read them in a matter of hours. Book three is taking days.
And so, as another day just begins to go by, I’ll read a few more pages, and then I’ll have to give in to sleep to survive moving in Boston tomorrow, and…I have written.
This one has me in a tailspin…
March 31st, 2012 This week a huge black fan appeared on the back wall of the yoga studio. On the first day the teacher turned it on and the sound of a jet engine approaching, but never landing, unnerved me. She turned it on and off a few times and I just shook it off as an annoyance that will go away. The second day she used it again, although not quite as long. I began to become aware of the air flow. It took a long time for any of it to reach my corner opposite the black monster. Then, the teacher opened the window next to me while the fan was on and it seemed to take any air that was coming in from the window and scoop it up to the ceiling.
On the third day, I went to the 6pm class and the teacher was a visiting teacher and she didn’t use it. It was nice in the room and I don’t think there was any need to move any air. The fourth day the teacher used it only briefly during the savasana and I had a chance to think about this whole fan idea. Knowing myself, in time I won’t even know its there. I’ll become accustomed to it just as I have with everything else in the room that I can’t control.
That’s when the lesson of the fan hit. I realized that I will never have a say in whether or not the fan is used, so it will quickly became a non-issue. On the other hand, moving my mat and changing my spot is something I can control and it, just as quickly, became an issue. Have I finally learned to accept the things I cannot change and wrangle with the things I can? And, am I growing the wisdom to know the difference? One can only hope hope to master the Serenity Prayer in their lifetime.
And so, as another day goes by, the appearance of the fan revealed some more of myself to me, so, yes, I am a “fan”, and…I have written.
March 30th, 2012 After all the reading and writing I’ve done since I started this blog, I found worrying is the topic that most worries us. Just this morning I found myself reading the the ticker tape running along the bottom of the screen while watching the news. The Dow closed above 13,000 yesterday, therefore, I thought, my day will be good. My bills are paid, so my day will be good. My taxes are done so I don’t have to worry about the outcome of that anymore, so my day will be good.
But what if any of these things were not as they are? What did I do before I paid my bills? Worried. What did I do before I did my taxes? Worried. What did I do when the Dow fell 200 points in one day? Worried. And now my new set of worries:
Boston daughter is moving this weekend and we all know how challenging moving anything, even our body to work, in Boston is. My book is being reviewed tomorrow by the Cape Cod Children’s Writers – need I say more about how that makes me feel? My air conditioner on my car cut out last week for a short time – $$$? The second floor eves of our house need attention – more $$$? And the list goes on……
My usual line of thinking, the way I lived my whole life, was “as soon as I solve all these problems my life will be perfect and I can stop worrying”. I made my daily goal to solve all my problems, get my ducks in a row, and then I will have peace. This daily goal soon took over my life and fixing things in a quest for rest and peace quickly became a life mantra. How bad is that? I lived to stop worrying. Once again I go back to what Dr. Phil asks me so often from the TV: “So…how’s that workin’ for ya?”. And, once again, the answer is the same: “Not very well”.
This past week I was searching YouTube for something else and I came across an Andy Stanley video on worrying. I love Andy Stanley. No other speaker ever reached me like he does. He speaks my language. He makes God real to me. He makes things out of the Bible that I’ve heard for years and deemed redundant, jump out and make me say “Wow!”. So you can imagine how excited I was to find out he had spoken about worrying. I quickly muted the TV and spent the next 20 or so minutes listening to the podcast. What was the striking truth I came away with? He said, “Jesus said, “Why do you worry? Do you think I don’t know you need food and a place to live? The pagans worry about these things. If you, too, worry about them, then you are no different than a pagan.”. Andy translated perfectly and I came away with the phrase locked in my head: “If you worry, you are acting like there is no God. Do you really think He doesn’t know about your needs?”. Wow. Yes, another “Wow, ah..ha” moment. I could tell Dr. Phil this works much better and once again he, too, is right – change your thoughts, change your life. Keep going down the same road, pounding on the same wall, – go insane.
This week I made “If you worry about that, it’s as if there is no God.” my new life mantra. So just now when the Dow floated along the bottom of my TV screen, I actually laughed. Imagine, the Dow predicting if I was going to have a good day. The Dow predicting if I was going to attain peace. Haha….that’s an “ah…ha” moment in itself.
To listen to Andy, put Andy Stanley Why Worry in the YouTube search. There are three parts. Part 1 is really funny, part 2 sets the concept, and part 3 drives it home. (Andy is non-denominational and speaks to all. His premise is that it’s not about religion – it’s about relationship.)
And so, as another day goes by, change your thoughts, change your life, and…I have written.
March 29th, 2012 Yesterday I read an interesting blog posted on our Bikram Yoga Cape Cod Facebook page. It was entitled Move Your Mat. Anyone who practices yoga regularly, knows you acquire a favorite “spot” in the room. You also know the room is divided into “regions”. There’s the “hottest spot” not near any door or window. There’s the front row right smack up in front of the mirror. There’s the back row where no one can find you. Then there are numerous rows in between. There’s the window side. The door side. And finally, the middle, right in front of the teacher. The gist of the blog was encouraging yogis to vacate their favorite spot and take a trip around the room.
When I started practicing 18 months ago, I began in the far right hand corner in the last row. I stayed there for four months before people started talking about not getting attached to one spot. I was so busy just trying to stay alive back there, I didn’t realize I had a “spot”. But, what they were saying made sense. I moved up to the third row and hung out there for about a month. People were talking more and more about moving, so I moved up to the second row. The mirror was getting awfully close. I was kind of scared of the mirror. I liked being hidden with bodies in a jungle in front of me and focusing on the ceiling light in the top part of the mirror. But the movement was on and I eventually ended up in the front row. I got comfortable with the mirror and remained here for a good month. Then it was time to venture to the left side of the room. I went to the last row, left hand corner. Then the third row in the middle. Finally, trying to find a new spot every day or even week became tedious and was taking the fun out of coming. The last thing I wanted was for this to become “not fun” because I desperately needed it. It was saving my life. I couldn’t let anything make it “not fun” or not desirable to come to.
I went back to my front row in front of the mirror on the right hand side. There are three spots up there and any of them is fine with me. I prefer the wall just because I’ve learned to navigate within 6 inches of it, standing on the extreme left side of my mat so the three people behind me get a shot at the mirror. Now when I arrive at class, if my “spot” is available, I just go there. No tedious decision to make. Some days it isn’t and I find it fun to move a little, without the pressure of “having to”. I want nothing about going to yoga to become “pressure” of any kind. I can’t afford it to.
Now, after reading that blog post yesterday, I decided to think about my own trip around the room. No spot ever changed my practice. Even the new perspective from each spot I tried only mattered for the social time before class. Once the fingers go up under my chin and the first breath is taken, I begin the decent in my own private cylinder-like elevator. The instructions being given by the teacher echo in the background. My body obeys them easily because it’s heard them for close to 500 days. My mind goes to it’s place behind my open eyes and resumes the healing of the spirit. For 90 minutes I remind myself to practice gently. Breathe slow and normal. Sink slowly into each pose until my limit is reached, and if the humidity isn’t a problem, push past that point. The total mind, body and spirit connection is made and you know what? It doesn’t matter if I’m practicing hanging from the ceiling, my practice would be the same from any spot in the room. That’s what I learned on my trip around the room. That, and the fact that I can’t let choosing a different spot become a priority over what I do there everyday – or worse yet, destroy what I do there everyday.
And so, as another day goes by, once again, what seems to be good for everyone else, is not what’s good for me, and ….I have written.
March 28th, 2012 The warm weather came and teased us a bit last week. The 70 degree temperatures brought thoughts of garden centers and patio pots – but wait, put the brakes on that thought – it’s only March.
Today driving up 6A in a gentle spring rain, I was thinking about my awful impatience with things I know need time to work themselves out. Patience has never been a virtue of mine when it comes to getting things done, problems solved, or ducks in a row. (I always have a stray duck that tries my patience so you’d think I’d be used to this by now.)
Suddenly tiny seed pots filled with rich black soil came to mind. I thought of how carefully my kindergarteners used to plant three sunflower seeds in those pots. They would water them and place them on the window sill. The next morning they’d rush in to check their plant, fully expecting a flower to have sprouted overnight. I used to laugh and then sit down and map out a life cycle chart to ease their anxiety that their seed surely died.
Back in that day I knew without a shadow of a doubt that there would be no flowers in the pots the very next day. Yet, in life, I sow seeds in many forms and expect a flower the very next day. Nature is nature, whether it’s a flower seed, a word seed, or a picture seed. Water, sun and time are needed for all growth to take place. Ideas and feelings, like sunflower seeds, spend time softening and pushing open the seed case underneath the dark, black, moist soil in the heart. It’s takes time to push itself through to the surface to finally find the sun in the mind.
When we planted our seeds in the classroom, even the children understood that we were going to leave them alone over on the window sill and go back to our work. We were not going to stand wait for them to grow. Once we watered them each day, we would leave them to their silent germination. So it is in life. We sow seeds in hearts and we must go on our way and tend to our work. Leave them in silent germination. Trust God to water them and soften the seedcases.
Tomorrow I’m going to Agway and get seeds and soil to plant something. I’m going to place the pot where I can see it every morning. I will call it my patience pot. I’m going to grow a patience plant to remind me of how nature and God work in the soil and the heart. (For certain my family will be chuckling here, as both plants and cooking, for me, result in a lot of dry, shriveled, black things.) But, as the yoga teacher said today, we shouldn’t say “Why me?”, but “Try me! Bring it on!”
And so, as another day goes by, yes, you can grow patience – just don’t forget to water it, and….I have written.
March 27th, 2012 Tonight I’m starting the third book in the Hunger Games trilogy. So far, The Hunger Games left me feeling strong. Good triumphs evil …I think. Yesterday when I started Catching Fire, the second book, I was revved up and ready to go. Today as I got into the second half of the book, my mood darkened. I was not just identifying with the protagonist, but I was really feeling dread. Heavy, plodding, dread. I just finished the book feeling so empty. I couldn’t figure out why.
This whole story takes place in a totally newly created apocalyptic world. The characters and all they do are not too paranormal, so it’s pretty believable. I had no trouble being part of the story. These are the first books I ever read like that because I was not a Harry Potter fan. (I tried, but just couldn’t do it). Yet I was head over heals with Twilight, but that setting was in our world. This story, in this strange, new world was filled with a lot of love and emotion, but I had such a sense of something missing in the total society.
Then it dawned on me. There was no hope. Why? Because there was no Higher Power in this world. The people only had themselves to depend on. They had no where to go in their darkest moments. What was there, was there. This just made me so, so sad. A book with so much death, and not once did it mention what happens when you die. Maybe that’s the symbolism in this domed arena? One thing I do know for sure, this series evokes a lot of emotion and gives the reader a lot to think and ponder. If you haven’t started these books yet, fire up your Kindle and get ready for an interesting ride.
And so, as another day goes by, I’m spending the evening with Mockingjay, and….I have written.
March 26th, 2012 Today I drove back to the Cape, arrived mid-afternoon, and jumped in my chair to resume reading Catching Fire, the second book in The Hunger Games Trilogy. As usual, the TV was on and The Talk was playing in the background. They did a whole Hunger Games theme today, even dressing like the characters. I wasn’t really paying attention until I heard Julie Chen say something that concerned me.
One and a half books into this Hunger Games thing, obviously one of the big reasons the protagonist fights so hard to win is that if she does, her whole district gets food for a year. The reason we are on earth, to help others, is the baseline theme in this killing movie. I was thinking that this is the main reason teens should see it and have an opportunity to discuss it. What a wonderful venue for this message to reach our youth, right? Then, out of one ear, I hear Julie Chen say that it is never really made clear in the movie that the winner’s district gets fed for a year. What? I can’t believe they wouldn’t give due diligence to that fact in the screen play. Of course, I’m only going on what Julie had to say, since I’ve yet to see the movie myself.
And so, as another day goes by, off to a board meeting, then back to my chair for more “Catching Fire”. I fear a late night, and….I have written.
|
|
