Sometimes there is a formula for when you get a pose. You sense it coming, look up at the right time, know the teacher is talking to you, and you go for it--giddy, but prepared. Other times you can't believe it is here, can't really understand why (because you weren't "Yoga Journal" perfect), but soon realize it is because your teacher thinks you're ready, and just maybe your practice looks like it is your practice--you approach the asanas knowing what you're after rather than jumping into a body of water when you know you can't swim.
Today, I was surprised when I was told to jump forward after karandavasana. Let's be clear. I am not coming down and up on my own. But I am crossing on my own, I'm kicking with confidence. I've lost the picture perfect jump back, but I'm genuinely trying (most of the time to get it back). I really thought I'd be here until at least I could lower down by myself like a pro. But I guess I must have looked ready, maybe I just needed a break from the pressure, maybe Guy wants to show me poses so that I'm not dumbstruck in Mysore, or maybe he saw my pretty little flying moments and thought they looked promising. Who knows.
When I heard him say "jump forward" I knew the timing was spot on with my breath and I looked up like, "really?" I knew Mayurasana was a challenging pose, but as always, I was overwhelmed with how challenging it was keeping the vinyasa and in the "correct ashtanga" hand position. I went through the whole thing twice to remember the vinyasa and was gushing sweat.
I have to confess. I have maybe been sabotaging my practice just a little. There are some places where I know I could stick to the vinyasa and maybe be stronger, but I am holding back and entertaining the thoughts and the fears and the drama because I'm scared. I'm scared of what's coming of second series. I'm scared that it will be revealed that I'm a phony. That all along I've just been cheating and acting and never really that "deserving" or dedicated. They (don't know who this refers to) will know that I'm not flexible, that I'm not strong, that I think a lot. That I'm not good enough. It will all be revealed. I'm scared that I won't be able to perform day after day. (I know it isn't a performance, but I'm being honest here, so some compassion please.) And now, my bluff has been called. With all this business of trying not to get a pose and acting really tired after karandavasana and all the drama before back bending and I get a new pose. Grr. And yay!
Again through practice I tried to think "light" when I felt "heavy", I tried to jump high and focus on mulabandha, I tried not to think in back bends (unless the thoughts were positive and encouraging), and funny enough, I felt comfortable and even in my back bends and maybe even good again. I hope it lasts.
One last note on practice: my arms fall asleep every now and then in supta vajrasana making bakasana incredibly "unfun", however, not impossible. Some days I ignore it and go for it. Other days like today I make a big show (the biggest show yet) of making faces and waving my arms about. The pain is worse on the big show days. Interesting.
On Food:
On the way to the shala this morning I decided that the best practice for me in terms of my attitude toward food is this: asking myself "is this helpful?" Every time I want to eat or feel like eating or am around food, I will try to ask myself "is this helpful?" Inside this question are other questions like:
why do I want to eat this?
what are my motivations?
am I hungry?
does this food have a positive affect on my body and mind?
will eating this make me happy an hour or not?
Sometimes the answer will be "I am hungry, this is nourishing and will make me healthy and strong". Sometimes the answer will be "my heart is hungry, I need to eat this, I deserve this". And every variation in between.
Possibly more practical would be using the model I kept back in my macrobiotic vegan days:
Is it sattvic (calming)?
Is it whole, local, organic?
That was, all in all, a very boring time in my gastronomic history. I remember looking at my arms and feeling so frail. I want to feel strong!
I get back after practice and throw on "The View" where they are discussing this recent study on how women would prefer to have cancer rather than be fat. Yikes!
Yoga, food, and fat
But, really this is about dealing with control issues, body issues, emotional issues, non attachment, and learning to still the mind.
A while back I was at my boyfriend's parents' house reading Self Magazine on the couch while he rummaged around in the attic. There was this article about weight-loss (there always is) and they were discussing BMI, "ideal weight", and what they called "happy weight". The ideal weight was what the women wanted to weigh (not always realistic), while the happy weight was what was possible and healthy for their frame, lifestyle, etc. You can read the full description of the happy weight here. With nothing else to do, I figured I'd do the math and weigh in on my happy weight.
I knew I had gained about 10 pounds in India last year and had lost about 7 of them since being back in New York. I was a bit surprised to find that my happy weight was a couple of pounds lighter than my pre-India weight, which I had found to be comfortable. I wasn't "dieting" at all, but was eating very particularly. Strict vegan, organic, local, and gluten-free. Post-India, I am vegetarian and more relaxed about the gluten. My philosophy has been that I'm eating to be strong, whereas pre-India, I was eating to feel light.
Curious about this new found "happy weight" I thought I'd give it a try and see what it felt like. I really thought I'd be really hungry and bony even though it was just a couple of pounds lighter. It took a couple of months of being very mindful of how, when, why, and what I ate, but I did it. I felt really good! I felt healthy, strong, beautiful, light, energetic, and who doesn't love compliments? But then something happened and I stopped being mindful and started eating my way out of the fog. I didn't put on a bunch of weight--maybe 1-3 pounds depending on the day--but I feel different.
Again and again in the philosophy and theory discussions, the topic of food comes up. It is such a basic element of existence, it is no wonder that one's habits around it are a critical piece of the "enlightenment" pie. I don't want to be skinny or bony. I don't want to fast and live in a cave. But if I am very honest with myself, I can admit that I do have some "mindfulness" issues surrounding food and when I am not mindful, I sometimes end up eating food that has negative affects on my body and mind. I know this is a sticky topic. Am I a control freak? Am I a skinny-obsessed ashtangi? Is this an eating disorder? Am I obsessing over nothing? Or is this really even a healthy issue to be analyzing? Maybe a little of all of it. Who knows? What I do know is that I have to take responsibility for my own happiness and no matter what I tell myself, the answer is not at the bottom of the peanut butter jar.
Okay okay and bikini shopping is on the horizon. Happy now?
Why I am interested in looking deeper at the way I eat and what I see as problematic:
1. Binge eating
2. Irregular eating schedule because of work
3. Eating when not hungry or out of habit
4. Emotional/stress eating
5. Social eating
6. Boredom eating
7. Reward eating
Why these are unhelpful:
1. I'm not dealing with what is really bothering me when I emotionally eat
2. Ill-fitting clothing sucks
3. Less confidence
4. Feeling uncomfortable
5. Being overweight isn't healthy. Not that I am, but I feel like even thinking you feel that way causes stress which isn't healthy
6. When you feel like you're overweight, "you suffer"
How to turn this around:
1. Less dairy. Although I don't really eat much to begin with. But do I really need to tax the cheese when I'm making a meal?
2. Not making any exceptions for refined grains
3. Avoiding packaged food
4. Smaller portions
5. Eating when hungry
6. Avoid multi tasking while I eat.
Should I workout or something too? I don't think so. It isn't about losing weight as much as it is about not letting the eating monster take over sometimes.
So the "goal" is to be more mindful. How will I know it? I'll feel it. And maybe I'll lose the 1-3 pounds to get to the "happy weight". Why not?
Helpful tools:
I threw "yoga" into the caloric calculator and it said that I burn 612.68 calories in one session. If I ran instead, I'd burn only 548.67 calories. Ha! Take that runners!
Apparently I'm supposed to take in 1890.91 calories to maintain my current weight at my current activity level. But if I want to lose weight, I have to burn more calories or eat less calories. I am already very active, so that isn't going to happen. But again, do I really need the TV snack? Or the second piece of toast? And actually, I don't even know how many calories are in what I eat...
So how is this a yoga practice? It is tapas. It is being mindful. It is actively moving toward understanding what is going on internally and how that can manifest externally. It is about moving away from suffering and toward my true self. Is my true self hungry? What doesn my true self want to eat for lunch today? Or is that my other self talking?
Currently reading: "The Red Tent"
No expectations: lessons learned from India and the New York experience
There is a plaque on the wall which reads "Best place to renew your drivers licence" by New York Press. There is an award for this? What exactly were the criteria? At this point, I'm thinking this MVD "Express" won because it has truly captured the New York experience.
People are standing in lines, sitting around, leaning against walls, running to counters when they hear their numbers. Everyone seems so know where to be except me. Like any good consumer, I head to the right and behold--the information desk. I get my paperwork, find no pens in the "pens box" and see too much hostility and self imposed isolation from those surrounding me to ask to borrow. So I walk out the doors (but they haven't beat me) no, I go next door to the HSBC and use one of those pens on a chain to complete my forms, and then head back in. Do I need a number? A line? Should I just sit and wait? I decide to stand in a line. Turns out to be the right choice. I finish my book. I thank myself for remembering my ipod. As I crank up the volume I wonder how people survived without them. I look around and fantasize about being in that Stone Temple Pilots video "Everybody Hurts" and singing out loud and we all riot and get the fuck out of the there. We overthrow the system. I smile to myself and swallow that.
Why are we here and what on earth are we doing? We are waiting in lines to get licences to drive. We think we have to. We think we are contributing to order and safety.
Why does this suck? It is hours in and I'm pissed because it says "Express" in the title and it is everything but. What did I expect? A fast food "drive thru" window? When I was in India, I carved a place in my heart for experiencing situations like this. "This is So India!' I'd think. And now I'm realizing that this is so New York. Evil civil servants with bald spots (even the women) and bad skin. Angry citizens in tacky outdated clothing like sweat suits. No pens in the pens box. Broken toilet (I've had to pee the entire time). An old man that looks like MR. Magoo and has a half smoked, unlit cigar stuck to his lip the whole time.
This is my first New York licence and it will have my New York address. I've lived here for 6 years and I am only just started to really be here. And now I am leaving.
Tips on surviving the New York MVD:
1. Bring a pen
2. Bring an ipod
3. Bring water
4. Use the toilet before
5. Eat before
6. Bring a fun read
7. Sudoku
8. Wear comfortable shoes
9. Have no expectations
10. Stay positive
11. A smile goes a long way.
Abre tus ojos
This is ridiculous. I can't speak for the whole western world, or for the whole world. But for me, a US resident and national, I am sickened and blown away by how fucked up our lives are. It isn't everything, of course, but there is enough of it to warrant a furrow between by brows and widening eyes.
I watched "The Business of Being Born" yesterday. Nothing new for a young, idealistic, tree-hugging liberal, but disconcerting all the same. Not just the statistics either. Merely witnessing all those squirmy and slimy babies squirting from vaginas was enough to make me cry. Ah, the miracle of life. My "childhood" friend is having a baby in December. I really should be there. I really want to tell her to see the movie. That may be a bit selfish and "crazy, tree-hugging liberal". How do you not come off as nuts?
And then there is the "staycation". Just saw this clever term being used on one of the morning "news" programs. It is a pleasant way to say that our economy is going quickly down the toilet, we have no money, we work our asses off, and now we can't even afford to utilize our god-given right to drive massive vehicles vast distances across these vast lands to start fires in forests and eat packaged meats on white bread. So what are we supposed to do? Pitch a tent in our backyards. Watch more TV. God forbid--have a conversation? I don't know if I can handle it. My need to consume will surely consume me.
So what will I be up to this fabulous Memorial Weekend? Enjoying some fabulous sales? Giving in to the new trend of a fabulous staycation? I'm working. I'm practicing yoga. I'm trying to keep the momentum going with the whole "getting my life prepared" thing for the move in July. I'm trying to not think about what might or might not happen between me and my significant other and instead enjoy all the time we have together. And I'll probably eat a soy dog in someones backyard.
Stress Test
How do you know you are stressed out? Perhaps this is a funny question in that most people that I know would answer with "how do you know when you're not".
For me there were some very clear signs from the last week:
1. Falling over in Tittibhasana C (mental/physical exhaustion).
2. Barely making it up the stairs to my apartment.
3. Losing my monthly unlimited subway card four times in two months.
4. No period.
5. Constipation.
6. Unexplained anger and hostility toward others.
7. Loss of appetite/strong desire to eat.
8. Back pain and tension.
9. Vivid and traumatic dreams.
10. But this is the best one. I had a dream where I was going on this hike through the wild west and I was kidnapped and sold into slavery. I thought it was sex slavery as I waited down in a dingy basement on a dirty old cot. But no. It was yoga teaching slavery. The basement was below a highend yoga studio/spa where I was expected to teach "whatevery the clients ask for dammit". Amazing.
I wasn't supposed to have this week off, but it worked out that way. Boy did I need it. Bowels like clockwork, a visit from Aunt Flo, return of healthy appetite, time to cook yummy meals, release of body tension/pain, dissapearance of dreams, compassion and patience for others, renewed stamina, and a reeestablished joy for my happy little life.
I'm reading this book called "The Cure Within: A History of Mind-Body Medicine" by Anne Harrington. I admit, I'm not reading it cover to cover, but I have landed on some interesting discussions regarding stress such as the relationship between what we call "stress" and exhaustion.
Was I feeling stressed our exhausted or both? Humans have always been exposed to stress, yet some might argue that the demans of modern life are "fundamentally unnatural". Even, that perhaps what uniquely defines modern man's dilema is the notion that our stress manifests from situations where we are unable to solve them, leaving us feeling frustrated. Or maybe it is that we just have way too much on our plates.
Teaching yoga can be physically and mentally exhausting. "Career" yoga teachers, I've heard them called. Those who teach yoga to pay their rent. I guess that's me. I don't know how it ended up that way and for some reason, I have a hard time admitting it. It just kind of happened. Recently, someone was complaining to me about their job and then said how much fun and breezy it probably was to be a yoga teacher. Hmm. I never really thought of it as a career and perhaps that was why I was taken off guard. But in order for it to be a career, one must either be really lucky and have some high paying gigs, be independently wealthy, or work one's tail off. I'm working my tail off and dreaming about it too.
Okay, so there is that. Then there is New York City. Oh, and isn't public speaking like the biggest fear? Well I do it about three times per day. Then there is this move to India.
In researching "the cumulative effects of stress on individuals over a period of a year or more", researchers Thomas H. Holmes and Richard H. Rahe designed the Social Readjustment Rating Scale. Basically, it is a list of "stressful events" with their stress point value. You add up your points and based on that, you can figure out how stressed you are (and hopefully work to balance your life out). Here is a link to the modern version: SRRS. Interesting changes compared to the 1967 version.
"Change in sleeping habits" lost one point
"Single person living alone" is added
"Other" is added
"Give appropriate points to yourself" is added
"'Spouse' begins or stops work" instead of "wife"
"Mortgage over 40,000" instead of "10,000"
According to both scales, "if your score is 300 or more, statistically you stand an almost 80% chance of getting sick in the near future. If you score is 150 to 299, the chances are about 50%". At less than 150, about 30%.
My number: 395. Or at least it was last week. Good thing I do yoga. And spend a day eating homemade apple pie and watching romantic comedies.
My Favorite Moments
There are two places in my practice that I think I can call my favorites. Maybe I experience "pratyahara" (a withdrawal of the senses), maybe I experience pure bliss, weightlessness, or just a feeling of overwhelming calm. I'm not sure how to describe the feelings because they are so strong and pungent and rich that I can't really put my finger on exactly how to define them. And yet, they are so simple it is silly.
The first moment is in Prasarita Padottanasana A. I feel like I'm crawling into a 2 x 2 cave, head first. I feel like an ostrich with my head stuck in the sand. All I can see is the tip of my nose. There is nothing else. And I want to stay here forever. Time stops, gravity stops, sound stops, thoughts stop. I am not me, or 23, or fat, or skinny, or hungry, or smart, or rich, or poor, or in NY, or wearing black pants, or practicing. Nothing exists. I am just there. And it feels very safe and calm. It feels like I stuck my head up in the clouds to soon and I was invited to stay--but only for a few minutes--before being thrown back down to the earth. And then I finish my fifth breath and try to hold on to the feeling, but lose it every time.
The second moment is when exiting uthplutih at the end of practice. Yes, in theory I should lift up in lotus and swing right back into chaturanga without touching the floor. But until then , I am swinging forward onto my knees, rolling forward onto my elbows, launching my tail into the air and stretching my legs out behind me before lowering into chaturanga. Same feelings as described above but also like the flying dream where I am floating above oceans and cities and houses and trees and mountains and clouds and then I slowly loose altitude and crash into the sand.
I've got a ticket to ride
I bought my ticket to Mysore this past week. Another step toward becoming official. It won't really feel real until the apartment gets emptier. Although now that I think that thought--"the apartment gets emptier"--I had the feeling of standing in this apartment when I first moved in. How completely empty it was and how quickly it can be that way again. How real everything feels in this moment, how heavy every object is around the house, and in a few months, it will all just be a memory.
But that is exactly why it has to be now. That is exactly why I have to go and uproot and begin this journey--because this life can very quickly disappear and will.
I once went to a Jivamukti class taught by my friend, Heather. There was a lot of talking at the beginning because it was after all a Jivamukti class. And as resistant as I am to sit and hear someone yap (a small price to pay for some fun and challenging sequencing), Heather always talks sense and gets me to soften up to the experience for what it is. That day in particular, she was talking about death. How every time you exhale you are dying. Absence of air, the end of breathing is death. Every time you exhale, you are jumping off a cliff. Every time you inhale, you are carried right back up to the top only to jump again. A chance to start all over again.
I'm taking the pranayama and philosophy course that my teacher, Guy, is offering. When we hold all the air out and retain, what is that? It is like dying and then floating there just because you can. Retaining the inhales and inhaling in general tends to be much more challenging to me. What is that all about? I've always considered myself a bit of an optimist. I suppose I've also been a bit manic depressant as well. Maybe I'm just like my former boss said-- "You are a sensation junkie." And she didn't even know the half of it.
Or maybe going to India will only feel real when I'm sitting on the plane watching the city get smaller below me.
If you like horror movies, I just saw "Teeth". Two words: vagina dentata.
Last day of blog break
http://mysoremusings.blogspot.com/2007/09/flying-dreams.html
On learning how to fly in Mysore.
Mysore 2007 re-run
http://mysoremusings.blogspot.com/2007/09/miracle-goop-in-all-glory-yesterdays.html
on chywanaprash and what to do the rest of the day in Mysore
Bright Eyes Playlist
(Music to clean the house to)
(Also helpful for trips to the laundry and general accomplishment of to-do lists)
Pull My Hair
(Also helpful for trips to the laundry and general accomplishment of to-do lists)
if winter ends...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vgMm-lF2eBEPull My Hair
Reincarnated Post
an oldie but goodie from Mysore last year.
http://mysoremusings.blogspot.com/2007/09/working-your-edge.html
You are what you eat
So maybe I take things just a little too seriously sometimes.
Food. It all comes down to food. What you put in your body. And although I think I live a healthy lifestyle, I admit that I've been relatively reckless since Wednesday. The result, feeling like crap (but not being able to) before practice. But today I got up early with plenty of time to sit in pasasana, do nauli kriya, kundalini stimulation exercises, breathe through my left nostril, drink a cup of hot water, and sit and simply try. All to no avail. I was really pissed off when I finally rolled out my mat. I think I was mad because I felt out of control. It wasn't really the fact that I was born without a "poop now" button, so much as I suppose I wasn't being mindful yesterday or the day before. My mind turned to mush and so did my inner chef.
The one thing that this all keeps boiling down to is what are you eating? Why are you eating like a maniac? Why are you sleep walking to the kitchen and force feeding yourself? WHY!?
I don't know! And I kind of do.
Anyway, back to practice...I was really pissed off and kind of lethargic feeling. Then Christina, Guy's Sunday assistant (bless her heart), tried to assist me in pasasana and I don't know why but I just wasn't having any of it. It was probably a lot like changing the diaper of an extremely unruly toddler. I just felt like my practice was poop and didn't want anyone to touch me and tell me its alright or help me or whatever. I was being really mean. "Oh you can't do this and you can't do that because you can't even take a shit before practice." But turns out I could. I was doing all the things that bring up drama even on a good day with less effort. I even crossed and lowered in karandavasana (for one second) all by myself. Even grabbed ankles in back bending when I thought I couldn't suck more.
Funny.
Funny how thinking all about my anus probably helped keep my awareness there and made the practice very grounded and centered. I mean, I REALLY knew where my pelvis was because I was telling it what a good for nothing...it was.
Okay. Laughing time now.
Saw "Point Break" last night. Amazing. "Young, dumb, and full of cum."
Back Bending the "Right" Way
Where do you feel it after practice: your thighs or your back?
Both.
Hmm.
I had a chance to talk shop with my favorite local Iyengar teacher, Cory Washburn. Before everyone starts to panic, rest assured, I'm not drinking the kool-aide, just gleaning another perspective on practice. And when I say another perspective, I don't mean Iyengar versus Ashtanga, I mean another yoga practitioner who happens to care a lot about precise alignment. I really feel that a little insight here and there can go along way. When there is too much info, I start to short circuit with all the many things to think about. However, once in awhile, I'm ready to take something new in.
My homework this week: Think about lengthening my hamstrings away from my calves, opening the backs of the knees. So actually, I should have sore hamstrings. I'll need some time to figure out what this feels like. Will certainly report back.
Took yesterday off and practiced primary today. Felt so tired and heavy. Maybe I'm eating too much? I just feel off. I think part of it is PMS. Where does it talk about this in Yoga Mala?
Just begun reading "Enlightenment for Idiots". Three things that bother me about this "genre".
1. Why are only women writing? (Holy Cow; Eat, Pray, Love, Fear; and Yoga in New Jersey)
2. Why all this emphasis on relationships? (Fear and Yoga in New Jersey; Eat, Pray, Love)
3. Why is it that main characters as yoga teachers have to be flakes that can't get anything together? (Fear and Yoga in New Jersey; Eat, Pray, Love)
Why does this bother me?
1. Am I a cliche?
2. Does my life revolve around men?
3. Am I a flake that can't get anything together?
Skinny and Sweet (There is an exception to every rule & NYC made me skinny)
There are a couple of new women practicing at the shala (doing second series). One of them is practicing full second plus part of third. I spied (post practice of course) her pincha and karandavasana and the woman totally had a Manju-as-a-child-pincha-photo banana back. And she could bind her legs by herself and she could come down and almost come up (you could tell she can come up on days when she is up to it). And her back was flat--almost even back bending--when she was resting on her arms. *shrug* Just goes to show that a)its not about the poses b)its about practice c)it takes patience d)every body is different.
Post-India Notes:
While getting dressed in the shala today I noticed that my big bra (the biggest size post-India) is too big. India made me fat. New York made me thin. Ha ha.
Life/practice notes:
Had the WORST allergies today. Could barely open my eyes this morning as they were so swollen. Thought I had pink eye or something. Yuck. Felt so ill that I really thought I wouldn't make it to practice. Low back is bothering too but I think its from adjusting people while I have bad posture. In back bending I took it easy--just ankles. (That is so ridiculous. I am now really praying at the end of eka pada. "Dear God, thank you for blessing me with legs, legs that work, legs that are able to do this crazy shit. Thanks!)
Things I like/don't like:
Couldn't get through the first three pages of "Midnight's Children". I must be a bad person. Laughed my head off last night at "Nine-to-Five". Absolutely infatuated with Amy Winehouse.
Spring in New York
Has it officially begun? Not sure, but I love it! It is on days like this that walking down the street is a pleasure. The city is so full of people--and so is the shala. It has been positively packed lately. I really like it that way. Having so many possible distractions helps me focus. And when I get to poses like pincha mayurasana, it makes me face my fears of falling over onto someone. (Haven't hit anyone yet, but have scared a few unsuspecting practice neighbors.) The only drawback for me is that it gets very hot and humid. Not unbearably so, but enough to make it more challenging for me to breathe. I have a tendency toward exertional asthma and used to carry an inhaler as a kid. With the high pollen count this year pre-practice and the humidity in practice, I have quite an opportunity to work on my breathing.
I find that, on days like today, it is helpful because I don't feel 100% and am less apt to get competitive with myself. Instead, I just tell myself to breathe and focus on bandha and it all just kind of unfolds on its own. And then I kind of fold into karandavasana! Well, the first part anyway.
In the short time that I've been working karandavasana, I feel like I've learned some big lessons. To come down (for me at least) it is essential that I am able to hollow out my belly first. This is practically impossible on days like today where I cross on my own and then lose my balance and shift too much toward my elbows (like I'm going to fall on my belly). I think Guy took this as a cue that I was ready to come down, so I came down, flexed my belly like crazy, and then muscled back up. I have to have my hips over my head and then inhale. In this position, I am not gripping my belly like death and am able to hollow it out on the exhale and then fold down into the pose. This part is tricky. If (when I hollow and come down) my hips aren't leaning toward my hands and shoulders moving forward, then I crash down on my butt. I am not some bulky guy that can just hover. I have to be able to build architecture that will work. Its coming...
Spent the afternoon with Rachel soaking up sun in Central Park, debating universal health care systems, and giving each other yoga tips. Rachel asked to see karandavasana. Everything is easier on the grass.
Junk drawer post
Think so you can learn how to stop thinking. This yoga stuff is funny. Between all the thinking about my relationships to people and things and philosophy with Guy and everything I was thinking so much about the sound of white noise that the thinking became white noise and then I wasn't thinking because I was thinking and I crossed my legs by myself in karandavasana--and I held myself there...away from the wall! The thing is, I didn't really notice until after practice.
This is my favorite time of year in New York. It is just so...optimistic. Baby birds try flying prematurely, fall to the pavement, and then get crushed under shoes. One moment you smell blossoms on your way down the sidewalk and the next moment it is hot pee. The weather is beautiful and flesh is exposed for the first time (its a scary white/green/grey color). The catcalling is back and starts out sweet ("god bless you, princess") and sometimes ends up sour ("you got me so hard--come back baby").
And now the dream sequence:
I had this dream last night featuring Sherri Shephard, Oprah Winfrey, and someone else whom I can't recall at
the moment (let's just say it was Diane Keaton). They were drunk in the basement lounge of a Staples. I was very disappointed with Sherri because Oprah is a bad influence on her. She put on a bunch of weight, and all three of them were behaving ridiculously, their clothes were falling off, just melting
off them from the drunkenness. Then my Mom showed up and poked Sherri, asking her why she let herself get to this point. And then of course, in come Lucy Liu in Kill Bill and she's threatening to chop heads off if anyone mentions she is part Chinese and American (not just Japanese).
Hey Adam, how's that for a bit of self absorption and inexpensive therapy? :) I think you're right. Sometimes it is hard to see it, but "I don't know how, but some way, it always works out in the end".
PS- Congratulations on solo handstand sans wall! Knew you could do it!
Sleep on it/creating an exit plan
I went to bed last night at 8:45pm. That's early. I looked at the clock and thought about how when I was a teenager, I'd still be getting ready to go out, how this was the beginning of what would be the greatest night of my life--every night. And now I'm covering my head with a pillow, walking from room to room in our railroad apartment in my mind, thinking about what I am going to do with all this stuff. How can I escape? I start in the kitchen on the far end of the apartment.
The plants. I can give them away.
The glass jar drawer. recycle.
The oven mitts. They aren't mine.
The silverware/knife drawer. Here I pause. That's my flatware. That was the flatware from my mom's house growing up. I can store those. Yes. What about the knives? Some of them are mine. I can put them in a stoop sale. No. I pack them too. I already have knives whey do I want to have to buy more knives? (I think of my grandparents) You should only have to buy knives once.
The pot and pan drawer. That's easy. Yard sale. But wait, what about those two pots from college? And the pressure cooker? What about the salad spinner? I love that salad spinner!
Then I get pretty upset. How can you break up with a salad spinner?
I have one foot here and one foot is already gone as I recall how I'll forget. I had this journal I kept when I walked the Camino de Santiago in Spain. I lost it sometime last year. I was really upset, but then was able to let it go. Now I think about how it existed but I don't panic at the fact that I can't hold it. Will I panic over the salad spinner a year from now on a beach in Thailand? Perhaps a little. Will I not be able to leave? No, that's not a problem. I might procrastinate though. Will I not be able to give it away. Maybe. No. I have to keep the "goal" in mind. I shouldn't really store anything. Why? What do I really need to save for later?
My eyes dart around the bedroom. At all the things. I think about the linen closet and how a tiny fraction of the contents are mine. I feel like I signed a contract with the stuff. I feel like I said "thank you, how generous!" when the things arrived, and now they've buried me alive.
Where is the back door? How can I just slip out? I don't want to deal with any of it, I just want to leave. I look at flights. Can I afford to leave earlier? Is that fair? #$@%!
I've got a light in my chest and belly, anticipation for what's to come and a cold feeling deep in my gut--the feeling of impending doom. And all this is happening with this other "I" smiling, laughing, compassionate, as it watches "myself" scramble around trying to figure it out.
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We aren’t finished here
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