While the apartment is extremely cold these days, my mood has become heavy, low and hard to budge out of this. In the past I might have devoted myself to a yoga class each day, but the cost and the low quality of the teachers at the studio these days has caused me to just sit at home, on the couch, under a blanket. Doing nothing.
It doesn't help the xmas party was last night, a few drinks and the next day my serotonin levels are swinging on empty.
Chinese food and documentaries. At least I'm just eating non-meat grease right? Right?
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
and another thing....
that's J's television show name...if he had one. 2 guys sitting in chairs saying "and another thing..." and griping about life. Sounds good to me. He started a blog with this name I think, hard to know since he wanted to make a secret blog that I couldn't read to take vengeance on my blog that he can't read.
My mom is coming in today at 4pm, then flying out again at 1pm tomorrow. This stems from my wedding dress breakdown. Unfortunately, after a coworker felt sorry for me, I stepped up and dealt with it myself, getting her to take the dress back out an inch around my ribcage, as I couldn't breathe in the dress. I had thought I might be able to just breathe into my belly, but it is impossible not to use the ribcage, even with that intention. It was no big deal. The seamstress worries the dress will fall down, but I am okay with boobies exposed rather than fainting or ripping the dress in half.
So she comes to save me, after I've saved myself. It's so important to figure out how to deal with your problems on your own. J used to try and solve everything for me, we sometimes slip into that again. But he tries to let me find a way on my own. Mom forgets this important step sometimes.
And it's snowing, heavily. As in, it will take 40 minutes minimum to walk downtown to teach at noon. Oh well, I was going to be a lazy girl anyway. Last class downtown, and then I have to come up with something to tell them...will I continue teaching there, or drop all my classes? The hot studio never responded to my email and invoice. Oh, and another yoga teacher who owes me $130 apparently broke her knee (me and J suspect in a paranoid way that she actually broke it doing yoga!) and I am not certain I'll hear back from that invoice anytime soon either. Flaky yogis....
I taught last night, the registered class at small, incompetent studio that I've referred to before. A great class like last night makes me doubt so much quitting all the struggles of trying to gather people for a class. getting just 6 people to attend at times seems completely insurmountable, and then poof!! the library gets 20 daddies to come for daddies and babies storytime once a month at every branch in Calgary. Oh yeah, one is free.
Either way, last night was so fun because it was just us girls, and not the girls with the hot flashes. So I completely indulged in girly talk, from moon days (your period) to one girl asking me "so where is your wedding?" during a forward fold when I gently coaxed "are there any questions?" haha...I answered, but noted it was not quite what I was expecting as a yoga question. I used the Tibetan bells at the end of class, as I did for my other classes this week. I love doing something like that and asking "did anyone feel them?" and having a YES! We try so hard to get people to experience things in yoga, and when they do, it's like...well, it's like having my ego stoked! My teacher training, Indian teacher, told us that in the West, they try to stoke our egos as we have no confidance which is why we buy so much and put others down. In the East, they are always taking down egos. I believe it. So I'm not guilting myself, I'm using them today for the last noon class! On another guilty note, I think I forgot to include one person in my little gifts of candles and cards on Monday. The boss of the company. Do I bring him a late card today? Hmm...did he get a candle? It's so weird, I counted 3 times. How did I miss him?
Almost time to leave, maybe stop and buy a candle.
My mom is coming in today at 4pm, then flying out again at 1pm tomorrow. This stems from my wedding dress breakdown. Unfortunately, after a coworker felt sorry for me, I stepped up and dealt with it myself, getting her to take the dress back out an inch around my ribcage, as I couldn't breathe in the dress. I had thought I might be able to just breathe into my belly, but it is impossible not to use the ribcage, even with that intention. It was no big deal. The seamstress worries the dress will fall down, but I am okay with boobies exposed rather than fainting or ripping the dress in half.
So she comes to save me, after I've saved myself. It's so important to figure out how to deal with your problems on your own. J used to try and solve everything for me, we sometimes slip into that again. But he tries to let me find a way on my own. Mom forgets this important step sometimes.
And it's snowing, heavily. As in, it will take 40 minutes minimum to walk downtown to teach at noon. Oh well, I was going to be a lazy girl anyway. Last class downtown, and then I have to come up with something to tell them...will I continue teaching there, or drop all my classes? The hot studio never responded to my email and invoice. Oh, and another yoga teacher who owes me $130 apparently broke her knee (me and J suspect in a paranoid way that she actually broke it doing yoga!) and I am not certain I'll hear back from that invoice anytime soon either. Flaky yogis....
I taught last night, the registered class at small, incompetent studio that I've referred to before. A great class like last night makes me doubt so much quitting all the struggles of trying to gather people for a class. getting just 6 people to attend at times seems completely insurmountable, and then poof!! the library gets 20 daddies to come for daddies and babies storytime once a month at every branch in Calgary. Oh yeah, one is free.
Either way, last night was so fun because it was just us girls, and not the girls with the hot flashes. So I completely indulged in girly talk, from moon days (your period) to one girl asking me "so where is your wedding?" during a forward fold when I gently coaxed "are there any questions?" haha...I answered, but noted it was not quite what I was expecting as a yoga question. I used the Tibetan bells at the end of class, as I did for my other classes this week. I love doing something like that and asking "did anyone feel them?" and having a YES! We try so hard to get people to experience things in yoga, and when they do, it's like...well, it's like having my ego stoked! My teacher training, Indian teacher, told us that in the West, they try to stoke our egos as we have no confidance which is why we buy so much and put others down. In the East, they are always taking down egos. I believe it. So I'm not guilting myself, I'm using them today for the last noon class! On another guilty note, I think I forgot to include one person in my little gifts of candles and cards on Monday. The boss of the company. Do I bring him a late card today? Hmm...did he get a candle? It's so weird, I counted 3 times. How did I miss him?
Almost time to leave, maybe stop and buy a candle.
Monday, November 30, 2009
A car, a car, your head for a car!
I'm decided that teaching at the shit little studio around the block is crazy. It's stressful and a downer.
But when I taught at the far away studio yesterday, I found it to be a double downer. My commute is over an hour, which, by statistics, is 20 minutes too far for the average person. After that, people will trade in their housing situation for something closer. However, that stat is used for suburban car commuters going into the inner city. I have a feeling a lot of people below average incomes who take the bus or train or combination, are used to these types of long commutes.
The second downer was the clients. They did not want to chat, they didn't smile or say "good" when I asked how their Sunday was. It was like they wanted to say "Shut up and teach beyatch!" I felt insulted just by their demeanor, not included, not lovey dovey, just pure work. I'm guessing people teaching there are giving them such a hard workout that they get this egotistical shell going on, ready for this sweaty, hot yoga workout. Well, I gave them a tender loving yoga class. I planned it so much that I didn't sleep the night before (well, add in some nasty veggie ground round and this is why I didn't sleep). I went over it so many times, a combination of upper body strength and lower body flexibility. Upon leaving, most of the students thanked me for the easy class. So it confirmed my suspicions, as the class wasn't particularly "easy", it was just a well-rounded class for all levels. This wasn't an advanced class by name! One client told me it was "restorative" which was a shocker and I'm guessing he was using relative comparisons.
So along with a bountiful gift from J's mom of skiis (!!!), I find it hard to justify NOT having a car at the moment if I want to continue teaching these hard ass hot yoga clients. The question is "do I?" And I have trouble answering that one at all. I need money, I love my yoga, and I appreciate the studio being a little retreat amongst an industrial setting (yup, McD's is a stone's throw away, along with a hotel, timmy's, and 2 huge freeway type roads). I am appreciative of the absence of yuppies in this area, being composed more of the actual demographic of Canada's changing face : health-obsessed baby boomers and the children of immigrants. I rarely see any young white girls with huge rocks on their fingers here, while at the nearby hot studio in my yupppie area, it's nearly blinding looking at both their engagement rings and new highlights while in downdog!
True, I represent a demographic that is neither of these things, content to have a latte and time off from work to write about them, but also enjoying being the daugher of a healthy boomer and missing the diversity in people that my neighbourhood can offer. Honestly, I haven't had a friend who isn't white since I moved to calgary, and it wasn't for lack of trying. There is not only a geographical barrier here, there seems to be so many mental barriers between groups. I want to teach at this studio to feel a part of the larger community that is really Calgary, not the whitewash of sunnyside and hillhurst (sorry, it's true).
So would a car solve my problems? Would spending up to 20% of our earnings on a car be worth it? How often would we use it in the summer to go hiking? And skiing in the winter? And potential teaching jobs for me? When you analyze these questions, I accept that we would be essentially spending our money on entertainment, not transportation. Would I drive home, park it, then walk to groceries? Or would I become another driver in this city, justifying going further and further because I was "out anyway?" There would need to be clear rules about this car, to slow us down from the craziness. Do I want to be a part of the car culture again? When I know there are a million people, and potentially a million cars in Calgary, it feels awful to consider joining those ranks, to contribute one more ugly machine to a driveway, a road, a parking lot.
But when I taught at the far away studio yesterday, I found it to be a double downer. My commute is over an hour, which, by statistics, is 20 minutes too far for the average person. After that, people will trade in their housing situation for something closer. However, that stat is used for suburban car commuters going into the inner city. I have a feeling a lot of people below average incomes who take the bus or train or combination, are used to these types of long commutes.
The second downer was the clients. They did not want to chat, they didn't smile or say "good" when I asked how their Sunday was. It was like they wanted to say "Shut up and teach beyatch!" I felt insulted just by their demeanor, not included, not lovey dovey, just pure work. I'm guessing people teaching there are giving them such a hard workout that they get this egotistical shell going on, ready for this sweaty, hot yoga workout. Well, I gave them a tender loving yoga class. I planned it so much that I didn't sleep the night before (well, add in some nasty veggie ground round and this is why I didn't sleep). I went over it so many times, a combination of upper body strength and lower body flexibility. Upon leaving, most of the students thanked me for the easy class. So it confirmed my suspicions, as the class wasn't particularly "easy", it was just a well-rounded class for all levels. This wasn't an advanced class by name! One client told me it was "restorative" which was a shocker and I'm guessing he was using relative comparisons.
So along with a bountiful gift from J's mom of skiis (!!!), I find it hard to justify NOT having a car at the moment if I want to continue teaching these hard ass hot yoga clients. The question is "do I?" And I have trouble answering that one at all. I need money, I love my yoga, and I appreciate the studio being a little retreat amongst an industrial setting (yup, McD's is a stone's throw away, along with a hotel, timmy's, and 2 huge freeway type roads). I am appreciative of the absence of yuppies in this area, being composed more of the actual demographic of Canada's changing face : health-obsessed baby boomers and the children of immigrants. I rarely see any young white girls with huge rocks on their fingers here, while at the nearby hot studio in my yupppie area, it's nearly blinding looking at both their engagement rings and new highlights while in downdog!
True, I represent a demographic that is neither of these things, content to have a latte and time off from work to write about them, but also enjoying being the daugher of a healthy boomer and missing the diversity in people that my neighbourhood can offer. Honestly, I haven't had a friend who isn't white since I moved to calgary, and it wasn't for lack of trying. There is not only a geographical barrier here, there seems to be so many mental barriers between groups. I want to teach at this studio to feel a part of the larger community that is really Calgary, not the whitewash of sunnyside and hillhurst (sorry, it's true).
So would a car solve my problems? Would spending up to 20% of our earnings on a car be worth it? How often would we use it in the summer to go hiking? And skiing in the winter? And potential teaching jobs for me? When you analyze these questions, I accept that we would be essentially spending our money on entertainment, not transportation. Would I drive home, park it, then walk to groceries? Or would I become another driver in this city, justifying going further and further because I was "out anyway?" There would need to be clear rules about this car, to slow us down from the craziness. Do I want to be a part of the car culture again? When I know there are a million people, and potentially a million cars in Calgary, it feels awful to consider joining those ranks, to contribute one more ugly machine to a driveway, a road, a parking lot.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Ski my Life Away
Who were all those people who filled up the parking lot at Elk Lakes Saturday? We arrived noonish to one of the few areas with snow for skiing, and there were all these people there. It was wonderful actually. I felt like there was another world where people enjoy simple things, where they love being outdoors, even if it's cold.
Lately the mention of my wedding being Dec 29th brings all these criticisms about the winter. I keep saying that we're going skiing and later hottubbing outdoors, to embrace the winter rather than avoid it. This is again met with skepticism and eye-rolls. Seriously, do these people know they live in Canada? That must be a lot of denial, heat warmers and shopping in malls to pretend that we don't have a good 6 months of snow and cold. I have the most amount of disgust with my life when I don't embrace what it is throwing me, so this is a hard concept to appreciate in others.
It was wonderful and I felt exhilirated. It wasn't easy either. I was grateful for the groin stretching I do, snow ploughing down steep slopes and managing to stay on my feet. I was grateful for my level of fitness, my friend and her car, for the proximity to the mountains, to our wealthy lives that allows cheap gas, and free time. As soon as I woke up the next day to be "kidnapped" into a loooong, unhealthy and boring breakfast, I longed for another day of skiing. But it's good that I can keep that longing instead of feeling like it's too much. Thank you world for allowing me that beautiful day of x-skiing:)
Sick of Yogis
That's right. Just like entrenching myself in a hippie environment of garden people, community dogooders and organic food eaters, I am totally fed up with yogis.
I was looking for inspiration in my practise and teaching, so I decided to extend my mind and get out to some studios I was unwilling to visit previously. Watching an online yoga class with Kira Ryder, she blatantly said to her class "inspiration has to come from withIN, that's why they don't call it expiration." Thanks Kira. I'm still a little uninspired, but I think it's more an apathy to other yogis and studios, rather than uninspired. I still practise. In fact, my weekend jogs that end in a park to do asana are fantabulous still. So I needed to try to find external inspiration to realize I am inspired.
The byproduct of this lesson was to find deep flaws not only in my fellow yoga teachers, but even a massage therapist I visited. Ouch, it was a horrible massage, full of the same bullshit dogmatic crap that the yogis are spewing these days. Talking about realigning spines, "releasing" bones (I am not even sure what they mean when they say release muscles either, especially when that muscle feels exactly the same).
It all comes down to this "teacher" idea. The massage therapist wanted to talk shop with me, knowing I teach yoga. And the yogis who taught my class wanted to teach us about our bodies. Except. They were wrong. Their anatomical understanding was top-notch with terms like piriformis, sacral, extension, you name it. In other words, the same stuff I learned in Anatomy and Physiology. However. Both the yogis and the therapists seem to think that they know better what is good for me than I know what is good for me. The question "does this feel good?" is NOT an anatomical one, unless you don't know how to help someone feel the butt stretch. Then you need to isolate certain muscles, twist here, turn there, and viola, that person finds the same feeling the others are feeling. But instead, I get these over-arching themes of what must be good for the teacher is good for the student. Huh? When did yoga stray away from experimentation?
Paul Grilley talks about experimentation, he talks about teachers feeling insecure and using "alignment" to control their classes, so it's not a chaotic all-for-one. He's right. He also says that the most forgiveable sin is that of not understanding anatomy. Yes, but in the meantime, where can I go for yoga!? Oh, guess I have to do it all myself? Oh, I guess so.
My issue is then that I want like-minded yinsters to practise with. Not that I only do yin, I need some strength in my practise, as Paul would also prescribe, sometimes. But a 90 minute class, heated, full of pushups and vinyasas just seems like overkill.
I would rather now find some hippies to practise with, those who truly won't judge me for (god forbid) NOT bringing my shoulders away from my ears in Warrior pose. damn, it helps to reduce compression to shrug the shoulders, nevermind expanding the inhale by lifting that wittle lobe of the lung that hangs off the end of the collar bone. Yumm. More so, I want someone to teach my mom beginner yoga so that she doesn't quit (she has stopped going in this the 3rd week) because of some naive teacher telling her to do this, do that, then telling her she is close-minded if she doesn't. Therefore mom is going for a massage tomorrow for a weeklong neck pain. Caused by plough. Which isn't for everyone. Like my mom.
They say "do what you can" but when you do, where is the open-mindedness? Where is the compassion for your students? Enough with crowd control, let a 55 year old take a beginner yoga class without punishing her or belittling her. I'm ashamed to belong to this type of yoga world.
I was looking for inspiration in my practise and teaching, so I decided to extend my mind and get out to some studios I was unwilling to visit previously. Watching an online yoga class with Kira Ryder, she blatantly said to her class "inspiration has to come from withIN, that's why they don't call it expiration." Thanks Kira. I'm still a little uninspired, but I think it's more an apathy to other yogis and studios, rather than uninspired. I still practise. In fact, my weekend jogs that end in a park to do asana are fantabulous still. So I needed to try to find external inspiration to realize I am inspired.
The byproduct of this lesson was to find deep flaws not only in my fellow yoga teachers, but even a massage therapist I visited. Ouch, it was a horrible massage, full of the same bullshit dogmatic crap that the yogis are spewing these days. Talking about realigning spines, "releasing" bones (I am not even sure what they mean when they say release muscles either, especially when that muscle feels exactly the same).
It all comes down to this "teacher" idea. The massage therapist wanted to talk shop with me, knowing I teach yoga. And the yogis who taught my class wanted to teach us about our bodies. Except. They were wrong. Their anatomical understanding was top-notch with terms like piriformis, sacral, extension, you name it. In other words, the same stuff I learned in Anatomy and Physiology. However. Both the yogis and the therapists seem to think that they know better what is good for me than I know what is good for me. The question "does this feel good?" is NOT an anatomical one, unless you don't know how to help someone feel the butt stretch. Then you need to isolate certain muscles, twist here, turn there, and viola, that person finds the same feeling the others are feeling. But instead, I get these over-arching themes of what must be good for the teacher is good for the student. Huh? When did yoga stray away from experimentation?
Paul Grilley talks about experimentation, he talks about teachers feeling insecure and using "alignment" to control their classes, so it's not a chaotic all-for-one. He's right. He also says that the most forgiveable sin is that of not understanding anatomy. Yes, but in the meantime, where can I go for yoga!? Oh, guess I have to do it all myself? Oh, I guess so.
My issue is then that I want like-minded yinsters to practise with. Not that I only do yin, I need some strength in my practise, as Paul would also prescribe, sometimes. But a 90 minute class, heated, full of pushups and vinyasas just seems like overkill.
I would rather now find some hippies to practise with, those who truly won't judge me for (god forbid) NOT bringing my shoulders away from my ears in Warrior pose. damn, it helps to reduce compression to shrug the shoulders, nevermind expanding the inhale by lifting that wittle lobe of the lung that hangs off the end of the collar bone. Yumm. More so, I want someone to teach my mom beginner yoga so that she doesn't quit (she has stopped going in this the 3rd week) because of some naive teacher telling her to do this, do that, then telling her she is close-minded if she doesn't. Therefore mom is going for a massage tomorrow for a weeklong neck pain. Caused by plough. Which isn't for everyone. Like my mom.
They say "do what you can" but when you do, where is the open-mindedness? Where is the compassion for your students? Enough with crowd control, let a 55 year old take a beginner yoga class without punishing her or belittling her. I'm ashamed to belong to this type of yoga world.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Handstands Schmandstands
I asked a friend who does artistic photography to help me create a "head shot" photo for a yoga webpage. Of course, this company turned out to be less than ideal for having a studio, nevermind needing the head shot. Which was good, because B doesn't shoot people, and this handstand shot was the best one of the bunch, not exactly a head shot.
the better photo was the attempted handstand, where you get a great crotch shot, and I hope to add this one too, just had the more scenic one on this computer.
If you're curious, this pose is not as beautiful as you think. I was probably up for 3 seconds, and you can see by the curve in my arms, it might be hard for me to ever balance in handstand, which is great, cuz I like using trees for support better. It's more intimate with the squirrels, and rabbit shit.
wedding anticipation
J called to ask me my shoe size today in preps for skiing in Waskesiu during our wedding week. This made both of us SO excited as we really love to x-ski and just renting the boots made our simple hearts soar. We talked about reading in front of the fire, watching trashy tv to make up for a lack of television at home and of course, skiing.
We've booked an extra night at the hotel to keep us together after the wedding for as long as
Photo of waskesiu's trails from www.waskesiu.org website
possible. So we have the wedding on the 29th, then the 30th and New Years Eve at the hotel, hoepfully enjoying some groomed ski trails. We head back to Saskatoon on the 1st where we will help sort out the last details for the reception at the Western Development Museum Jan 2nd.
The dress is the saddest thing I've ever seen, but I realize the material, consumer world of finding happiness in "things", even a wedding dress, is full of disappointment. So I will do my best to shine from the inside that day, besides, Justin wouldn't notice if I walked down the aisle in my lulus I think.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Nothing to Do Anymore
So I have worked so hard for the last year to rid myself of things to do.
That's right, I have retreated into my most reclusive self.
I work 3 days a week from 8-4pm. Besides that, I teach about 5 classes a week.
In all that is about 26 hours of work each week. Most people work 40 minimum. I also gave up most of my volunteering and any other extracurricular activities.
My question. Is this a sign of impending depression, knowing the days are getting shorter, and each night I sleep more and more hours (last night was a hefty 11)? Or am I doing what I need to do to get my head on straight? What does that even mean?
I've noticed that in my life, I tend to view depression as Not Doing. I view "happy" as doing. But half the time, I start Doing something, only to find that I hate what I am doing, have no idea how I got there, and I feel stuck to get out.
So there. I have nothing to do. I am doing Nothing. Old Jackie would have said, this is a state of unhappiness, because our happiness (apparently I refer to myself as more than one person) has always come while Doing. So ergo, nothing means no happiness.
I am out to prove me wrong.
I am keeping myself company in these extra 13 hours.
This girl I hang out with (myself) is a lot like this, from my point of view:
She is really sad sometimes.
I like her the most when she takes us outside to play. She really knows what she likes, everyday is a different adventure, playing in the park, running, pushups, sometimes handstands against the trees. This makes her really happy. She smiles from the inside.
When we come home, I notice she gets aggravated. I don't know why, but she seems to have trouble breathing indoors, in her home. Like she wants something more, something to do, to feel worthy, to feel she is contributing.
She doesn't get along with her cats sometimes. She gets tired easily.
She likes to be quiet.
When we go out with people, she talks a lot. I don't know why, it seems odd given how quiet she is with me all day long. She seems to want approval from people, even from people that she doesn't like.
She likes to be hugged, quietly, firmly. She has trouble saying love.
She is really happy to have time alone after too much company. To cuddle up with a blanket and a book or a movie. This is when I like her a lot.
It's hard to watch someone like her, and not feel a lot of emotions about all the above, like a sense of sadness, as though she feels she is worthless or that no one cares. But I care for her a lot, and I want her to know that. I think she might feel better if she had a God that reassured her of being loved, but this is a silly thought, to both of us. I think she wants a friend, someone to share secrets with and to love. It has always been her pen and paper in the past, and she has this fiance who loves her. But something seems amiss. Weird.
That's right, I have retreated into my most reclusive self.
I work 3 days a week from 8-4pm. Besides that, I teach about 5 classes a week.
In all that is about 26 hours of work each week. Most people work 40 minimum. I also gave up most of my volunteering and any other extracurricular activities.
My question. Is this a sign of impending depression, knowing the days are getting shorter, and each night I sleep more and more hours (last night was a hefty 11)? Or am I doing what I need to do to get my head on straight? What does that even mean?
I've noticed that in my life, I tend to view depression as Not Doing. I view "happy" as doing. But half the time, I start Doing something, only to find that I hate what I am doing, have no idea how I got there, and I feel stuck to get out.
So there. I have nothing to do. I am doing Nothing. Old Jackie would have said, this is a state of unhappiness, because our happiness (apparently I refer to myself as more than one person) has always come while Doing. So ergo, nothing means no happiness.
I am out to prove me wrong.
I am keeping myself company in these extra 13 hours.
This girl I hang out with (myself) is a lot like this, from my point of view:
She is really sad sometimes.
I like her the most when she takes us outside to play. She really knows what she likes, everyday is a different adventure, playing in the park, running, pushups, sometimes handstands against the trees. This makes her really happy. She smiles from the inside.
When we come home, I notice she gets aggravated. I don't know why, but she seems to have trouble breathing indoors, in her home. Like she wants something more, something to do, to feel worthy, to feel she is contributing.
She doesn't get along with her cats sometimes. She gets tired easily.
She likes to be quiet.
When we go out with people, she talks a lot. I don't know why, it seems odd given how quiet she is with me all day long. She seems to want approval from people, even from people that she doesn't like.
She likes to be hugged, quietly, firmly. She has trouble saying love.
She is really happy to have time alone after too much company. To cuddle up with a blanket and a book or a movie. This is when I like her a lot.
It's hard to watch someone like her, and not feel a lot of emotions about all the above, like a sense of sadness, as though she feels she is worthless or that no one cares. But I care for her a lot, and I want her to know that. I think she might feel better if she had a God that reassured her of being loved, but this is a silly thought, to both of us. I think she wants a friend, someone to share secrets with and to love. It has always been her pen and paper in the past, and she has this fiance who loves her. But something seems amiss. Weird.
Towards floaty feelings
I am in need of inspiration.
In yoga this can translate as needing "rajas", which is the fiery hot energy that gets us moving, gets us from a state of claylike heaviness, to a state of change. This reminds me of physics, where the static friction is always greater than the kinetic friction. In other words, it takes a greater force to start an object moving than it does to keep it rolling.
Okay, so I need something to push me. However, from what I know of rajasic states, this often involves HEAT.
Here are some rajasic things in our everday life. For me, having just walked out of the mediclinic this morning with a diagnosis of Rosacea, meaning once more, all advice points to "no more heat in your life Jackie!", you can see how these things go against what I need.
Active Movement - jogging, hot yoga (yum), ashtanga yoga, dance dance dance, biking downtown in unfriendly cycling traffic, shouting, hysterical laughter, loud, crazy music, playing with your pet vigorously, becoming passionate about a cause, learning exciting news, having a deadline.
So you get the point. But for me, I tend to go way overboard with these hot things, and that makes me angry.
So my question to the universe is this. If we are in a tamasic (heavy, blank slate) kinda mood, is it possible to skip all that rajasic stuff and go straight to the sattvic form (which is full of light, feeling weightless, relaxed, I like to call it "floaty")?
Sattvic activities are supposed to follow the rajasic, but since I find rajasic to time and again be uncontrollable in my body and mind, I want to skip them all. So can I go from feeling depressed and mopey in the morning, and without having to go for a jog or listen to hiphop, go straight to floatey? So like, instead of hiphop (cmon, I don't really listen to it), could a Jack Johnson song make me feel good?
Other sattvic things?
Eating popcorn (cuz it's light and full or air hehe)
Jack Johnson and Norah Jones' songs (they just do it for me, sorry)
Praying (well, count that one out)
Meditation (ahh yes, back to this thing I keep avoiding) (sidenote, I did so-ham in the waiting room at the Dr's, for like 25 minutes and I did feel marvellous, even with the odd stares)
Yin yoga (maybe too much of a tamasic thing though)
Massage (only because I want a massage all the time)
We will see.
In yoga this can translate as needing "rajas", which is the fiery hot energy that gets us moving, gets us from a state of claylike heaviness, to a state of change. This reminds me of physics, where the static friction is always greater than the kinetic friction. In other words, it takes a greater force to start an object moving than it does to keep it rolling.
Okay, so I need something to push me. However, from what I know of rajasic states, this often involves HEAT.
Here are some rajasic things in our everday life. For me, having just walked out of the mediclinic this morning with a diagnosis of Rosacea, meaning once more, all advice points to "no more heat in your life Jackie!", you can see how these things go against what I need.
Active Movement - jogging, hot yoga (yum), ashtanga yoga, dance dance dance, biking downtown in unfriendly cycling traffic, shouting, hysterical laughter, loud, crazy music, playing with your pet vigorously, becoming passionate about a cause, learning exciting news, having a deadline.
So you get the point. But for me, I tend to go way overboard with these hot things, and that makes me angry.
So my question to the universe is this. If we are in a tamasic (heavy, blank slate) kinda mood, is it possible to skip all that rajasic stuff and go straight to the sattvic form (which is full of light, feeling weightless, relaxed, I like to call it "floaty")?
Sattvic activities are supposed to follow the rajasic, but since I find rajasic to time and again be uncontrollable in my body and mind, I want to skip them all. So can I go from feeling depressed and mopey in the morning, and without having to go for a jog or listen to hiphop, go straight to floatey? So like, instead of hiphop (cmon, I don't really listen to it), could a Jack Johnson song make me feel good?
Other sattvic things?
Eating popcorn (cuz it's light and full or air hehe)
Jack Johnson and Norah Jones' songs (they just do it for me, sorry)
Praying (well, count that one out)
Meditation (ahh yes, back to this thing I keep avoiding) (sidenote, I did so-ham in the waiting room at the Dr's, for like 25 minutes and I did feel marvellous, even with the odd stares)
Yin yoga (maybe too much of a tamasic thing though)
Massage (only because I want a massage all the time)
We will see.
Phony
A cook is someone who cooks.
A painter is someone who paints.
A dancer dances, and, well, you get it.
A yoga teacher....teaches yoga, meaning...
As part of dealing with my quick temper, I picked up and read Marshall Rosenberg’s book called NonViolent Communication. In this book, I realized that labelling someone under their occupation is akin to labelling someone who gets angry as an “angry person” of course. A few months later, I had a very violent encounter with a best friend. It was time to test these concepts I had read.
After the initial, repulsive feelings had passed, I began to think about my thoughts, bringing the all-important awareness to what had happened for me.
My first thought, after the friend following me from yoga class to yoga class, teaching lunch hours and evenings, was that, as a “yoga teacher”, I should not have got so angry. And secondly, since anger is part of the samskaras of my life, a history of patterning, I saw this event as more reinforcement as my existence as the scary “angry person”.
Can a yoga teacher have flaws, especially ones that are in direct conflict with the ideals of ahimsa (non-harming)? Based on the evidence of my own experience with teachers being flaky, lying, doing harm to themselves with alcohol and drugs, it is most obvious we can be hypocrites.
But I know all this.
So the second wave of thoughts about my thoughts is that my ego, wanting to appear as flawless, is getting in the way of me continuing my path down ahimsa. Instead of accepting what happened and making whatever amends I could, my ego would rather bash me over and over again, making sure that I know how “bad” my actions were, that I am a total phony.
So now, I wonder how to bring these lessons to my class, to my life.
First of all, I realize that although counselling and reading has helped me at the most difficult moments to feel that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, I don’t feel those tools are the answer to anger and self-harm. I think meditation is, as we have to be in the here and now rather than dwelling on the past. I have to admit then, that I am not ready for meditation in the setting I imagine it involves, and I’m not fully ready to spend hours on this.
Instead, I’ve started a simple practise of breath awareness and “so-ham” repetition, especially when my hurtful thoughts are at their peak. I’m not sure this helps, or if I am doing the right thing, but like all yoga, experience will tell me.
A painter is someone who paints.
A dancer dances, and, well, you get it.
A yoga teacher....teaches yoga, meaning...
As part of dealing with my quick temper, I picked up and read Marshall Rosenberg’s book called NonViolent Communication. In this book, I realized that labelling someone under their occupation is akin to labelling someone who gets angry as an “angry person” of course. A few months later, I had a very violent encounter with a best friend. It was time to test these concepts I had read.
After the initial, repulsive feelings had passed, I began to think about my thoughts, bringing the all-important awareness to what had happened for me.
My first thought, after the friend following me from yoga class to yoga class, teaching lunch hours and evenings, was that, as a “yoga teacher”, I should not have got so angry. And secondly, since anger is part of the samskaras of my life, a history of patterning, I saw this event as more reinforcement as my existence as the scary “angry person”.
Can a yoga teacher have flaws, especially ones that are in direct conflict with the ideals of ahimsa (non-harming)? Based on the evidence of my own experience with teachers being flaky, lying, doing harm to themselves with alcohol and drugs, it is most obvious we can be hypocrites.
But I know all this.
So the second wave of thoughts about my thoughts is that my ego, wanting to appear as flawless, is getting in the way of me continuing my path down ahimsa. Instead of accepting what happened and making whatever amends I could, my ego would rather bash me over and over again, making sure that I know how “bad” my actions were, that I am a total phony.
So now, I wonder how to bring these lessons to my class, to my life.
First of all, I realize that although counselling and reading has helped me at the most difficult moments to feel that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, I don’t feel those tools are the answer to anger and self-harm. I think meditation is, as we have to be in the here and now rather than dwelling on the past. I have to admit then, that I am not ready for meditation in the setting I imagine it involves, and I’m not fully ready to spend hours on this.
Instead, I’ve started a simple practise of breath awareness and “so-ham” repetition, especially when my hurtful thoughts are at their peak. I’m not sure this helps, or if I am doing the right thing, but like all yoga, experience will tell me.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Assiniboine
Fate had me and Justin ski 30 km into Assiniboine Mountain, Canada's 6th largest peak, without proper equipment nor knowledge of the challenge.
We left excited and naive, with enormous falls causing bruises and near impalement, but also laughter and fun. We skiied on, enjoying a mild winter day, with few others as we continued our journey deep into a snowy landscape. We stopped for food and tea, but our clothes being so wet from our falls kept us moving.
As daylight waned and water bottles became empty, we started to realize our journey was perhaps impossible. Yet we were too far in, and we knew we needed shelter that night, without cover, without shovels, and with our bodies becoming colder as the falls into snow became slower more often and more time-consuming.
We did not speak of our fears, of being alone at night on our skiis without lamps, without beacons, without warmth. We kept skiing, we were in this together.
As we went up another steep mountain shoulder, I realized that Justin's wish of seeing the sunset was coming true, only we were far from our cabin. I turned to wait for him to share the irony, but I did not see him coming. Knowing he had the larger pack, I walked back to him, sinking at each step up to my thighs. I saw him struggling to get to me, so I sat and waited. I yelled "come on, it's not far". The look on his face told me everything. He was terrified and exhausted. But when he started to apologize for the mistakes he had made, I would not hear it. We had to look to the goal, we had to keep going. I told him we were capable of so much more, that we would make it. I believed this then and I was right. What we mistakenly did without brains, we could make up for with brawn.
So we skiied, we walked, we sank, we fell. As the moon became hidden by clouds, we lost our trail completely. We had to keep moving, and after a few full out shouts for help, we knew that we were the only ones who could help us. We talked of staying outside, but with a short discussion, we both knew without shelter we had to get inside.
Justin took out a highly inaccurate map and a compass. With one light between us, he went in front, and kept moving us towards the direction we knew our cabin was in. I followed him, putting my ski exactly behind his. I was hypothermic and I knew it, so I let him think for me, guide me and my job was to keep my skiis moving.
Suddenly he found the trail, even through the wind blown valley and the covered moon. We howled at the night and used our adrenaline to get over the last hump to a mountain lodge that was 200times more than the cost of our cabin. We asked them for help and they fed us soup and tea. I started to cry, I started to bawl. They gave us a free room in their unheated top floor, covered with the weight of huge quilts and full of potato soup.
Since that night, Justin makes soup often. We sleep under a warm quilt with our cats cuddling us in the too often unheated apartment. The mocassin he almost dropped and had to go back for at one point sits beside our bed, and we laugh about almost losing it.
At times we have fought and thought about leaving each other. But we have thought about that night, at what we did for each other, how we perfectly complemented each other with strength, hope, faith and trust. There was one goal, and we both knew the truth of our situation. We acted as the best human beings we could be, never losing it, never giving up. When we had to make decisions, we did not blame each other nor let our emotions get away. Yet we were there for each other, emotionally and physically.
This is the person Justin makes me and the person I want to be for him and the world.
We left excited and naive, with enormous falls causing bruises and near impalement, but also laughter and fun. We skiied on, enjoying a mild winter day, with few others as we continued our journey deep into a snowy landscape. We stopped for food and tea, but our clothes being so wet from our falls kept us moving.
As daylight waned and water bottles became empty, we started to realize our journey was perhaps impossible. Yet we were too far in, and we knew we needed shelter that night, without cover, without shovels, and with our bodies becoming colder as the falls into snow became slower more often and more time-consuming.
We did not speak of our fears, of being alone at night on our skiis without lamps, without beacons, without warmth. We kept skiing, we were in this together.
As we went up another steep mountain shoulder, I realized that Justin's wish of seeing the sunset was coming true, only we were far from our cabin. I turned to wait for him to share the irony, but I did not see him coming. Knowing he had the larger pack, I walked back to him, sinking at each step up to my thighs. I saw him struggling to get to me, so I sat and waited. I yelled "come on, it's not far". The look on his face told me everything. He was terrified and exhausted. But when he started to apologize for the mistakes he had made, I would not hear it. We had to look to the goal, we had to keep going. I told him we were capable of so much more, that we would make it. I believed this then and I was right. What we mistakenly did without brains, we could make up for with brawn.
So we skiied, we walked, we sank, we fell. As the moon became hidden by clouds, we lost our trail completely. We had to keep moving, and after a few full out shouts for help, we knew that we were the only ones who could help us. We talked of staying outside, but with a short discussion, we both knew without shelter we had to get inside.
Justin took out a highly inaccurate map and a compass. With one light between us, he went in front, and kept moving us towards the direction we knew our cabin was in. I followed him, putting my ski exactly behind his. I was hypothermic and I knew it, so I let him think for me, guide me and my job was to keep my skiis moving.
Suddenly he found the trail, even through the wind blown valley and the covered moon. We howled at the night and used our adrenaline to get over the last hump to a mountain lodge that was 200times more than the cost of our cabin. We asked them for help and they fed us soup and tea. I started to cry, I started to bawl. They gave us a free room in their unheated top floor, covered with the weight of huge quilts and full of potato soup.
Since that night, Justin makes soup often. We sleep under a warm quilt with our cats cuddling us in the too often unheated apartment. The mocassin he almost dropped and had to go back for at one point sits beside our bed, and we laugh about almost losing it.
At times we have fought and thought about leaving each other. But we have thought about that night, at what we did for each other, how we perfectly complemented each other with strength, hope, faith and trust. There was one goal, and we both knew the truth of our situation. We acted as the best human beings we could be, never losing it, never giving up. When we had to make decisions, we did not blame each other nor let our emotions get away. Yet we were there for each other, emotionally and physically.
This is the person Justin makes me and the person I want to be for him and the world.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
gangs
Shot in the street, his brother is dead.
He is injured, but not in the head.
No, he remains, controlling my friend,
Who keeps hoping she can contend,
With his chaos and gangs, raising their baby.
I know she will stay, but i wish she would leave.
"Take Back the Night", when inside I grieve.
Cuz our homes are not safe, I worry for them.
I didn't leave, I waited for him
He had to leave before I spoke,
To show all the bruises, and the rib that he broke.
How can I hope that she'll be unique,
When I held on long, when I was too weak?
She says she'll be strong,
But it's been that way too long.
I blame myself for the danger she's in,
I feel defeated, that she will not win.
When women fight wars,
We lose even more,
Guns are for men, we have more in our seed.
When women have power, their softness will lead.
So this war she is fighting, I can't hope she will win,
He must leave first, or die like his kin.
One day she might rule, but she'll never win.
He is injured, but not in the head.
No, he remains, controlling my friend,
Who keeps hoping she can contend,
With his chaos and gangs, raising their baby.
I know she will stay, but i wish she would leave.
"Take Back the Night", when inside I grieve.
Cuz our homes are not safe, I worry for them.
I didn't leave, I waited for him
He had to leave before I spoke,
To show all the bruises, and the rib that he broke.
How can I hope that she'll be unique,
When I held on long, when I was too weak?
She says she'll be strong,
But it's been that way too long.
I blame myself for the danger she's in,
I feel defeated, that she will not win.
When women fight wars,
We lose even more,
Guns are for men, we have more in our seed.
When women have power, their softness will lead.
So this war she is fighting, I can't hope she will win,
He must leave first, or die like his kin.
One day she might rule, but she'll never win.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
black and white
If you were to inform me that you have taken up some one-train way of thinking, i'd be disappointed. To say that you are human, that you are experiencing things (sexually, alien or otherwise) only heightens my appreciation for you, to give me insight into how you teach others. Those who break things into parts and enjoy a simple black and white view of the world
(can I blame those who see in black and white?
Laying on my side, in half light,
i saw through the black and blue of bruises,
And at once the world was so scary in colour.
My eyes, now open, to the dark shades of my life.
So I too created a cut,
Killed off colour and made a map
Guiding me over the wretched questions i had
Easier this way, easier to heal,
my head laying softly once more in his guilty lap.)
might be highly adverse to knowing a person is 3-d. To me it is like "ahh, yes, he is also a man, he is also creative, he is also a woman and a explorer" means you are normal.
(can I blame those who see in black and white?
Laying on my side, in half light,
i saw through the black and blue of bruises,
And at once the world was so scary in colour.
My eyes, now open, to the dark shades of my life.
So I too created a cut,
Killed off colour and made a map
Guiding me over the wretched questions i had
Easier this way, easier to heal,
my head laying softly once more in his guilty lap.)
might be highly adverse to knowing a person is 3-d. To me it is like "ahh, yes, he is also a man, he is also creative, he is also a woman and a explorer" means you are normal.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
My fiance
"I'm becoming depressed" she says, again, once more.
And I say again "what do you mean?" not knowing, not caring.
"I dunno" then the sounds of her snores.
I roll over, turn my back on the peaceful exit into dreamland.
What about me? Am I depressed? Was I ever?
"I hate my job" I tell her at coffee.
"Me too" she says.
I pay for her latte. I get a coffee. It's slightly unequal.
"You make more" She had said. With logic, and firmness. Always making sense.
"You argue better than me" I tell her at times, times when she's in my face, pointing and accusing.
"I know" she says, but nothing changes.
I send her emails all day, she replies. We hate our jobs, we go for jogs at lunch, coffees in the morning. Then we ride our bikes home together. I feed the cat and she stretches on our rug, doing some form of yoga that she has largely made up, suited it to herself. She says it is supposed to 'balance' her. She can accuse me of something while doing the yoga. I worry what the unbalanced her would be like.
"I love when you sleep without your shirt on" I tell her.
In a minute, she takes her shirt off.
"yesss" I hiss, moving over to wrap around her.
"mmm..." and then snores.
I lay awake again. Something is unequal here.
And I say again "what do you mean?" not knowing, not caring.
"I dunno" then the sounds of her snores.
I roll over, turn my back on the peaceful exit into dreamland.
What about me? Am I depressed? Was I ever?
"I hate my job" I tell her at coffee.
"Me too" she says.
I pay for her latte. I get a coffee. It's slightly unequal.
"You make more" She had said. With logic, and firmness. Always making sense.
"You argue better than me" I tell her at times, times when she's in my face, pointing and accusing.
"I know" she says, but nothing changes.
I send her emails all day, she replies. We hate our jobs, we go for jogs at lunch, coffees in the morning. Then we ride our bikes home together. I feed the cat and she stretches on our rug, doing some form of yoga that she has largely made up, suited it to herself. She says it is supposed to 'balance' her. She can accuse me of something while doing the yoga. I worry what the unbalanced her would be like.
"I love when you sleep without your shirt on" I tell her.
In a minute, she takes her shirt off.
"yesss" I hiss, moving over to wrap around her.
"mmm..." and then snores.
I lay awake again. Something is unequal here.
Stuck in the middle
After extensive reading on the subject, I've deemed having a baby to be ridiculous for people like me. if you are someone who enjoys the type of work involved with having a baby/infant, like repetitive, hands-on work, I think having a baby would satisfy the urge to procreate but also the feeling of doing some meaningful work. I don't mean to look down on those who like this type of work, for the other work, the abstract, ever-changing type of work that others prefer is no better in that it can be just as mundane, just as meaningless in the grand scheme of life.
For me, I can't handle the daily chores of cleaning, tying shoes, doing dishes and preparing food. I enjoy each of these things in moderation, but I feel bored and worthless doing too much of any of these tasks. Of course, we should consider the fact that this work is helping to raise another human, but that argument doesn't fly with me, as little as it does when you tell an employee that they are doing this or that to help the world function. It is the work itself, the physical work, of raising a baby that I am not sure I can handle.
So that brings me to the current occupation, and I am deeply unsatisfied here in this occupation. The only upside is the paycheck is brings, but I feel alone, purposeless and completely uninspired. I think the problem is that i love motherhood. I love taking on a project from the start, raising it, nurturing it, stressing over it, as much as a mother would fuss over her newborn. I am a natural mother in this way, but i am not so convinced that this mother would do well with a baby. Teenagers I'm excited about, but babies, not so much....
The reading I did on this said that mothers become virtual slaves to the child, and the rich, at every opportunity, get hired help to make up for the enormity of work a mother to a baby must do. So I have recently convinced myself that until I have the cash for a full time nanny (let's say 4 years to assume I would be better at the stuff once they've hit school), I'm convinced I can't have a baby.
the other problem is that, as a burgeoning mother, I want to be pregnant. I want not only the respect it brings, that wisdom assumed to a woman with belly, but I want to actually experience large breasts, freedom in an enlargening belly, and I want 10 months with an excuse to do little exercise. I am glamourizing the experience, but at least I am not glamorizing what follows the pregnancy, the exhausting work of a mom.
So I feel stuck in existential angst, that feeling of knowing too much about the decisions available, and not knowing which way to turn. i also realize that too much angst means I will delay a decision, perhaps until it is too late, though realistically I can't forsee myself waiting 12 year until trying.
Doing a lookover on this post makes me see how many times I used "I" in this post. I feel guilty using it, from some ridiculous talk we had at yoga training on avoiding it, and some book based on this. I (hehe) am not convinced "I" is a bad thing, but the perspective that I'm completely wrapped up in my own life is interesting. With perhaps only this one life to live, that shouldn't be a bad thing, but the religious among me are good at getting me to feel that guilt!
For me, I can't handle the daily chores of cleaning, tying shoes, doing dishes and preparing food. I enjoy each of these things in moderation, but I feel bored and worthless doing too much of any of these tasks. Of course, we should consider the fact that this work is helping to raise another human, but that argument doesn't fly with me, as little as it does when you tell an employee that they are doing this or that to help the world function. It is the work itself, the physical work, of raising a baby that I am not sure I can handle.
So that brings me to the current occupation, and I am deeply unsatisfied here in this occupation. The only upside is the paycheck is brings, but I feel alone, purposeless and completely uninspired. I think the problem is that i love motherhood. I love taking on a project from the start, raising it, nurturing it, stressing over it, as much as a mother would fuss over her newborn. I am a natural mother in this way, but i am not so convinced that this mother would do well with a baby. Teenagers I'm excited about, but babies, not so much....
The reading I did on this said that mothers become virtual slaves to the child, and the rich, at every opportunity, get hired help to make up for the enormity of work a mother to a baby must do. So I have recently convinced myself that until I have the cash for a full time nanny (let's say 4 years to assume I would be better at the stuff once they've hit school), I'm convinced I can't have a baby.
the other problem is that, as a burgeoning mother, I want to be pregnant. I want not only the respect it brings, that wisdom assumed to a woman with belly, but I want to actually experience large breasts, freedom in an enlargening belly, and I want 10 months with an excuse to do little exercise. I am glamourizing the experience, but at least I am not glamorizing what follows the pregnancy, the exhausting work of a mom.
So I feel stuck in existential angst, that feeling of knowing too much about the decisions available, and not knowing which way to turn. i also realize that too much angst means I will delay a decision, perhaps until it is too late, though realistically I can't forsee myself waiting 12 year until trying.
Doing a lookover on this post makes me see how many times I used "I" in this post. I feel guilty using it, from some ridiculous talk we had at yoga training on avoiding it, and some book based on this. I (hehe) am not convinced "I" is a bad thing, but the perspective that I'm completely wrapped up in my own life is interesting. With perhaps only this one life to live, that shouldn't be a bad thing, but the religious among me are good at getting me to feel that guilt!
Thursday, August 13, 2009
SICK at work
So when I start a new job, which is often, I seem to find that the first week involves excruciating mental anxiety, but for the most part I am pretty content and feeling good. With time, about 1 month down the road, I start to get ill at work. Let's call it a mix of having a cold and having IBS (ugh, Irritable Bowel Syndrome need I point out). But then, I never get truly sick, as though I'm carrying around this half-hearted attempt and killing myself from the inside out.
So today is one of those days. Coincidentally these "symptoms" coincide with jobs where there is a high pretend quotient. In other words, very little happens, which makes for a dull girl. Is it the dissonance of wanting to work but having none? The guilt that I should be making a difference in life but instead I am wasting my life away sitting on my ass? I'm not sure, but I decided, after actually getting sick with gall bladder issues, that I would only work part time. This, I thought, would cure me as most of my week would be *not* spent wiling away the hours behind a screen.
But I'm still wiling away my hours behind a screen, this blog point in fact. I start with a coffee, thinking a little high will compensate for a wasted life, but this just makes my already wavering focus a little more wavery. Sometimes I think I need a second coffee (let's be honest, I'm into lattes not coffees, but you get the point). The second coffee usually induces an unpleasant physical reaction, so this is not the solution.
Is it quite possible that my mind, rebelling against all motivation I have to stay seated and waste my life paying off student loans little by little, is truly trying to kill me? I have to think yes. Because when I really start to consider it, life here is not much different from being on life support (oh it burns to say that knowing some people actually are), and me being a compassionate soul would want, instinctually, to do the right thing and put the girl (me) out of her misery. Yes, it's all relative to what is happening in your life, but to sit behind a desk without interaction, without a window, without so much as needing to stand for even one minute of the day, is my personal idea of Hell. Get a new job? I cannot say this changes from job to job, I have 1 good month then wham, straight to the pit.
Enough complaining.
So today is one of those days. Coincidentally these "symptoms" coincide with jobs where there is a high pretend quotient. In other words, very little happens, which makes for a dull girl. Is it the dissonance of wanting to work but having none? The guilt that I should be making a difference in life but instead I am wasting my life away sitting on my ass? I'm not sure, but I decided, after actually getting sick with gall bladder issues, that I would only work part time. This, I thought, would cure me as most of my week would be *not* spent wiling away the hours behind a screen.
But I'm still wiling away my hours behind a screen, this blog point in fact. I start with a coffee, thinking a little high will compensate for a wasted life, but this just makes my already wavering focus a little more wavery. Sometimes I think I need a second coffee (let's be honest, I'm into lattes not coffees, but you get the point). The second coffee usually induces an unpleasant physical reaction, so this is not the solution.
Is it quite possible that my mind, rebelling against all motivation I have to stay seated and waste my life paying off student loans little by little, is truly trying to kill me? I have to think yes. Because when I really start to consider it, life here is not much different from being on life support (oh it burns to say that knowing some people actually are), and me being a compassionate soul would want, instinctually, to do the right thing and put the girl (me) out of her misery. Yes, it's all relative to what is happening in your life, but to sit behind a desk without interaction, without a window, without so much as needing to stand for even one minute of the day, is my personal idea of Hell. Get a new job? I cannot say this changes from job to job, I have 1 good month then wham, straight to the pit.
Enough complaining.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Sightings of Exes
Do you ever walk down the street, up to your normal shenanigans, and suddenly, out of the blue ,you are seeing your past relationship walking in front of you? At first panic ensues, you think you should sprint away or jump into a shrub. Then, with shaky legs, you want to continue walking, just play it cool. But then, is that really him? Why would he be in this neighbourhood, a place that is so non-ghetto, so yuppie, so filled with happy people living happy little lives...? But then again, he IS dressed all in black, maybe some ill-fated Saturday night brought him to your little haven, and he is only here to get on the train and get back to his 'hood.
This happens so rarely that when it does, it sends me into some shock. My relationships, really like everyone's past relationships, bring up so many old feelings of unworthiness, intrigue and embarassement that I truly would like to do the shrub jump, if any North American city was kind enough to build large shrubs capable of fitting a crazy lady. Hmm...I think that's why all the shrubs ARE cut low, because inevitably not women like me, but drunks and crackheads fill their recesses. Okay, but still, what is the correct way to avoid or confront an ex in the street?
Once, a few years ago, I swore I saw him by SAIT. I got home, feeling shaky, deciding I could carry on my day without rehashing old scenarios on replay. But then, amazingly, he calls me on the phone. No, he didn't see me, he just felt like calling after 2 years of never seeing, talking or emailing. The weird thing was that I felt so out of it, that I convinced myself that it wasn't him on the phone, and preceeded to have a strange conversation with someone I thought I should know but couldn't place. I think they call this high-level denial or something. At last, I admitted something way too personal for the convo and he was like "It's So and So!" and I went into a blubbery state of blame, shame, and apologies for not knowing. It was like "Oh, I'm so SO sorry I didn't recognize your voice....I guess I was so used to our screaming fights that I didn't recognize your calm, almost human timbre. Oops, sorry, sorry, just out of sorts here, I thought I saw you today, this is all too strange." So eventually I hung up on him. Then I called him back and his response went like, "I knew you would call back, you always did!" So in a fury I hung up again, and this time didn't phone back.
The invent of facebook seemed to make things a little more akward for this. You add an ex, a person you could basically be okay with if they fell off the planet, but you never wall each other, phone, see each other. Eventually I saw I wasn't on his FB anymore, and I truly felt a little offended, as though he wanted me to drop off the planet. Hmm....
This happens so rarely that when it does, it sends me into some shock. My relationships, really like everyone's past relationships, bring up so many old feelings of unworthiness, intrigue and embarassement that I truly would like to do the shrub jump, if any North American city was kind enough to build large shrubs capable of fitting a crazy lady. Hmm...I think that's why all the shrubs ARE cut low, because inevitably not women like me, but drunks and crackheads fill their recesses. Okay, but still, what is the correct way to avoid or confront an ex in the street?
Once, a few years ago, I swore I saw him by SAIT. I got home, feeling shaky, deciding I could carry on my day without rehashing old scenarios on replay. But then, amazingly, he calls me on the phone. No, he didn't see me, he just felt like calling after 2 years of never seeing, talking or emailing. The weird thing was that I felt so out of it, that I convinced myself that it wasn't him on the phone, and preceeded to have a strange conversation with someone I thought I should know but couldn't place. I think they call this high-level denial or something. At last, I admitted something way too personal for the convo and he was like "It's So and So!" and I went into a blubbery state of blame, shame, and apologies for not knowing. It was like "Oh, I'm so SO sorry I didn't recognize your voice....I guess I was so used to our screaming fights that I didn't recognize your calm, almost human timbre. Oops, sorry, sorry, just out of sorts here, I thought I saw you today, this is all too strange." So eventually I hung up on him. Then I called him back and his response went like, "I knew you would call back, you always did!" So in a fury I hung up again, and this time didn't phone back.
The invent of facebook seemed to make things a little more akward for this. You add an ex, a person you could basically be okay with if they fell off the planet, but you never wall each other, phone, see each other. Eventually I saw I wasn't on his FB anymore, and I truly felt a little offended, as though he wanted me to drop off the planet. Hmm....
Saturday, August 8, 2009
YOGA BOLSTER
Sewing a yoga bolster hasn't been as easy a task as I've assumed it to be.
Among major complaints:
Fabric - okay, it is next to impossible to find fabric in Cowtown, and don't even get me started about "organic", "bamboo"....the list goes on.
So the pattern I have from Fabricland has muslin as a interior and any fabric as an exterior. Being lazy I skip the interior and go straight to a zipper cover. So I figure that the best fabric would be a stiffer fabric, like a linen. Fabricland has a limited diversity in fabrics, and I'm not the best at finding what I need in their maze of fabrics, so I think I have linen, but I'm actually not sure. What I do know is that it frays and almost spews its threads at me, so I'm guessing it's linen...?
One is Strawberry Shortcake, or whatever the cutesy cartoon for girls was named in the 80s. I had a themed birthday when I was 2 I think. But obviously a bolster of all SS would be overkill, so I'm pondering appliques, or a mix of SS with something more racy...this is where design would come in handy, having the instinct to know how to match these juxtapositions.
Foam - besides the outrageous cost, I look at Half Moon's bolsters (by cleverly unravelling it's pieces bahaha) and there seems to be some market out there, selling rubber cores for yoga bolsters, but a google search does not reveal this market. uh..."rubber"...yeah, that's a little broad for a meaningful search. So I bought the rigid $$ foam from Fabricland on Labour Day last year, knowing it's half off, which led to an overabundance of foam in the tetris stack that is our front closet. Now I'm using it, but you need something to go around the foam, just like Half Moon does on their bolsters.
An obvious question would be "Why not just buy the Half Moon bolster?" but they are $70-$80. I figured I could make them cheaper, but I'm seeing that it is the quality of their foam and batting that leads to this pricepoint, and actually, the price might be a very low margin for the makers, I can't see much profit in it. So the next justification comes in the form of aesthetics. Half Moon only does plain beige, navy or army green covers. The users of the bolsters are mainly young women, often in prenatal classes. So my assumption is that they might want something a little cooler, they are doing yoga to begin with, obviously outside mainstream exercise and prenatal care (or is it anymore???).
Batting - A wool, eco-type batting seems to fill the Half Moon bolsters. Where they get this, like the rubber, is completely unknown. I have tried Fabricland, Walmart (puke), and Michael's, the big art store around here (another puke, too much craft stuff is like a clothing department store, I get overwhelmed and depressed). Either way, no one has anything like this. It looks post-consumer, but again, what do you google to find this??? So I used the foam, then regular, high density quilting batting, still $$ for what my use is. And my final consideration in all this is how tight I sew this batting on to the foam. HM's seems to be just sitting in the cover, while I am making up for a lack of a rubber core so I sew it tightly, hoping it holds up to a fatty prego laying on it for an hour. It seems even me putting my weight on my first bolster caused mucho sagging and not enough cushioning. So the search continues. I am so astonished at the lack of textile and manufacturing materials in this city. But then again, we're no Montreal, no history of making clothing or just about anything involving high processing or manufacturing. That's what we ship it overseas for of course:(
Among major complaints:
Fabric - okay, it is next to impossible to find fabric in Cowtown, and don't even get me started about "organic", "bamboo"....the list goes on.
So the pattern I have from Fabricland has muslin as a interior and any fabric as an exterior. Being lazy I skip the interior and go straight to a zipper cover. So I figure that the best fabric would be a stiffer fabric, like a linen. Fabricland has a limited diversity in fabrics, and I'm not the best at finding what I need in their maze of fabrics, so I think I have linen, but I'm actually not sure. What I do know is that it frays and almost spews its threads at me, so I'm guessing it's linen...?
One is Strawberry Shortcake, or whatever the cutesy cartoon for girls was named in the 80s. I had a themed birthday when I was 2 I think. But obviously a bolster of all SS would be overkill, so I'm pondering appliques, or a mix of SS with something more racy...this is where design would come in handy, having the instinct to know how to match these juxtapositions.
Foam - besides the outrageous cost, I look at Half Moon's bolsters (by cleverly unravelling it's pieces bahaha) and there seems to be some market out there, selling rubber cores for yoga bolsters, but a google search does not reveal this market. uh..."rubber"...yeah, that's a little broad for a meaningful search. So I bought the rigid $$ foam from Fabricland on Labour Day last year, knowing it's half off, which led to an overabundance of foam in the tetris stack that is our front closet. Now I'm using it, but you need something to go around the foam, just like Half Moon does on their bolsters.
An obvious question would be "Why not just buy the Half Moon bolster?" but they are $70-$80. I figured I could make them cheaper, but I'm seeing that it is the quality of their foam and batting that leads to this pricepoint, and actually, the price might be a very low margin for the makers, I can't see much profit in it. So the next justification comes in the form of aesthetics. Half Moon only does plain beige, navy or army green covers. The users of the bolsters are mainly young women, often in prenatal classes. So my assumption is that they might want something a little cooler, they are doing yoga to begin with, obviously outside mainstream exercise and prenatal care (or is it anymore???).
Batting - A wool, eco-type batting seems to fill the Half Moon bolsters. Where they get this, like the rubber, is completely unknown. I have tried Fabricland, Walmart (puke), and Michael's, the big art store around here (another puke, too much craft stuff is like a clothing department store, I get overwhelmed and depressed). Either way, no one has anything like this. It looks post-consumer, but again, what do you google to find this??? So I used the foam, then regular, high density quilting batting, still $$ for what my use is. And my final consideration in all this is how tight I sew this batting on to the foam. HM's seems to be just sitting in the cover, while I am making up for a lack of a rubber core so I sew it tightly, hoping it holds up to a fatty prego laying on it for an hour. It seems even me putting my weight on my first bolster caused mucho sagging and not enough cushioning. So the search continues. I am so astonished at the lack of textile and manufacturing materials in this city. But then again, we're no Montreal, no history of making clothing or just about anything involving high processing or manufacturing. That's what we ship it overseas for of course:(
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
5 Considerations on Marriage
1. Why are you getting married?
Like the atrocities of other Western symbols, weddings as a symbol of a couple's birth into society, have become overblown and commercialized. My intention on marriage was idyllic (as an idealist this is true to my form). However, when faced with the full blown wedding details, I cannot help but want to elope, making this an intimate celebration between J and me. With each new challenge, like booking a facility, I find it harder and harder to separate out the commercial crap and what is meaningful to me. So that brings me to the second consideration...
2. What are your beliefs and rituals?
For the nonreligious, we tend to borrow rituals from different religions. Hold up, I AM religious, I was baptised and confirmed as an Anglican. Well, just as many weddings seemingly occur outside the awareness of the couple getting married (we'll just ladeda down the aisle and go along with whatever someone tells us to do), many religious people seem to be religious by implication rather than by practise. I do not practise Anglicism, besides feeling the Anglican influence on some firm foundational beliefs of what is moral and righteous. And from time to time using this to my advantage when certain religious people or questions come up where it would seem easier and maybe beneficial to just go along with the "Oh, I'm Anglican" label.
So how does one get married outside the context of their religion without stealing another culture's ceremonies? Isn't this the North American way? At certain mental moments, I have considered starting over in trueblue NAmerican fashion, with a diamond ring, a knee proposal, and a big ole Church full of family, friends and of course, your standard strangers that someone had to invite. That would be so much easier than figuring it out for myself. But it is too late, we cannot redo a lot of this (sorry J, no second proposal, I'm sure you were wanting that anxiety once more). So I am faced with researching potential rituals, and then pondering how they make me feel. Yet, as a purist when it comes to religion, I don't want to steal anyone's ceremonies and be left explaining to my children how white man stole many other things, why not some other culture's traditions for my own symbolic wedding? How about just borrowing..sigh.
I am a yogi, true. But unfortunately, where yoga was predominantly practised and taught, in the East, their relgious beliefs, be them Taoist, Hindu or Buddhist, where wrapped up in their yoga practise. So taking any yogic influence would inevitably be taking some Eastern Religion influence, and leave people pondering whether it was Krishna or Buddha who was presiding over our special day. Of course, yoga in the West is naturally influenced by the West's dominant beliefs, and that would be beauty and aesthetics. Oops, no ceremonial ties there, unless we wanted to follow our vows up with a hearty set up leg presses or crunches. Mmm...not so cool.
3. Ring exchange (Soap box moment)
If I get one more person glancing down at my hand to see the big rock, I'm going to go insane. I realize this is part of life, and when I'm pregnant for the first time I will likely make the same remarks about my body becoming a public forum free for all, but I think it is note-worthy to address our complete inability to express joy in a way that doesn't involve searching for some thing to confirm that what I'm saying is actually happening. Rather than a joyous hug, my friends would rather stay a foot away, looking for a ring, asking about concrete details like dates, places, dresses. Like being vegetarian and buying a veggie hotdog, then feeling I want to yell to passerbys "It's a VEGGIE dog!" I have the impulse to tattoo Canada's Diavik diamond mine on the back of my hand, with a note "I chose not to buy in to commercialism and environmental disaster". A cute little arrow pointing to my ring finger would top this whole image off, don't you think that would be just so cute? Us purists seem to be constantly justifying our choices, but more to ourselves than others I think. Maybe if our society kept its thoughts to itself more often than not, I wouldn't be feeling this need for justificaiton, but this is my culture, where everything is up to scrutiny, where people can say whatever they want, and I think I have internalized a lot of the comments.
4. The age old question of who to invite
Okay, I know this sounds old-school. But honestly, should my intimate, weird, dryad ceremony be open to friends who will want to mock, question and cajole me? When I mentioned "potluck" for a reception, I was greeted by many testimonials of those who had heard from a bride whose family chose to boycott their wedding just at the insinuation that they would have to bring a potluck dish to a wedding! And what about family? I have this devilish urge to invite half of some families, like the mom and son, but not the dad and daughter or other various combinations. Cherry-picking would be an appropriate word here. Okay, i have no solution for this, just wanted to complain.
5. Place and People
To reiterate on the people question, I want my wedding to be a celebration of our life together. It is not to rehash old haunts from my childhood. The little girl dream I had of marrying at the Saskatoon Berry Barn would be great, if J had I had happily gone there even once together. But we didn't. Now I have an understanding fiance, he would marry me on Venus if I convinced him that it meant a lot to me. But the point is for me to actually engage him in these decisions, so he feels the solemnity and intent of getting married too! They always say in books "don't forget, this is your wedding." So why would we get married in a place we've never been together? Or for that matter, in our hometown of Saskatoon, when we met in Calgary, live in Calgary, and the people we have chose to have in our lives (friends) are in Calgary and those who have to be in our lives (family from SK) will likely make their best effort to go wherever we choose?
As for the people, I truly hope that this ceremony makes it clear to those present that they are there to see the culmination of their support for us as a couple. Of course, some will be on the Bride's side (Aunts who encouraged me to keep looking for Mr. Right, somehow never telling me how wrong my Mr. Wrongs were) and some on the Grooms (J's friend shutting his mouth everytime I opened mine to criticize his lovelife, knowing how much J loves me). And hopefully we will have a few people who helped us along as a couple (oh the colorful neighbour who seems to see me and J as some sort of beacon of light for what is right in life). And all of those present will be asked to continue their support for us as a couple. I personally see this as a chance for those present to act as Godparents, knowing that if something should happen, they might very well be asked to step in and act as faith harborers for me and J, reminding us of why we are blessed. Wow, what a big question to ask of people, but isn't that why your wedding should be slightly more intimate than 350 people? Do they really feel responsible for you, or are they there to check out the chicks at the dance? Do people still say "chicks?"
Like the atrocities of other Western symbols, weddings as a symbol of a couple's birth into society, have become overblown and commercialized. My intention on marriage was idyllic (as an idealist this is true to my form). However, when faced with the full blown wedding details, I cannot help but want to elope, making this an intimate celebration between J and me. With each new challenge, like booking a facility, I find it harder and harder to separate out the commercial crap and what is meaningful to me. So that brings me to the second consideration...
2. What are your beliefs and rituals?
For the nonreligious, we tend to borrow rituals from different religions. Hold up, I AM religious, I was baptised and confirmed as an Anglican. Well, just as many weddings seemingly occur outside the awareness of the couple getting married (we'll just ladeda down the aisle and go along with whatever someone tells us to do), many religious people seem to be religious by implication rather than by practise. I do not practise Anglicism, besides feeling the Anglican influence on some firm foundational beliefs of what is moral and righteous. And from time to time using this to my advantage when certain religious people or questions come up where it would seem easier and maybe beneficial to just go along with the "Oh, I'm Anglican" label.
So how does one get married outside the context of their religion without stealing another culture's ceremonies? Isn't this the North American way? At certain mental moments, I have considered starting over in trueblue NAmerican fashion, with a diamond ring, a knee proposal, and a big ole Church full of family, friends and of course, your standard strangers that someone had to invite. That would be so much easier than figuring it out for myself. But it is too late, we cannot redo a lot of this (sorry J, no second proposal, I'm sure you were wanting that anxiety once more). So I am faced with researching potential rituals, and then pondering how they make me feel. Yet, as a purist when it comes to religion, I don't want to steal anyone's ceremonies and be left explaining to my children how white man stole many other things, why not some other culture's traditions for my own symbolic wedding? How about just borrowing..sigh.
I am a yogi, true. But unfortunately, where yoga was predominantly practised and taught, in the East, their relgious beliefs, be them Taoist, Hindu or Buddhist, where wrapped up in their yoga practise. So taking any yogic influence would inevitably be taking some Eastern Religion influence, and leave people pondering whether it was Krishna or Buddha who was presiding over our special day. Of course, yoga in the West is naturally influenced by the West's dominant beliefs, and that would be beauty and aesthetics. Oops, no ceremonial ties there, unless we wanted to follow our vows up with a hearty set up leg presses or crunches. Mmm...not so cool.
3. Ring exchange (Soap box moment)
If I get one more person glancing down at my hand to see the big rock, I'm going to go insane. I realize this is part of life, and when I'm pregnant for the first time I will likely make the same remarks about my body becoming a public forum free for all, but I think it is note-worthy to address our complete inability to express joy in a way that doesn't involve searching for some thing to confirm that what I'm saying is actually happening. Rather than a joyous hug, my friends would rather stay a foot away, looking for a ring, asking about concrete details like dates, places, dresses. Like being vegetarian and buying a veggie hotdog, then feeling I want to yell to passerbys "It's a VEGGIE dog!" I have the impulse to tattoo Canada's Diavik diamond mine on the back of my hand, with a note "I chose not to buy in to commercialism and environmental disaster". A cute little arrow pointing to my ring finger would top this whole image off, don't you think that would be just so cute? Us purists seem to be constantly justifying our choices, but more to ourselves than others I think. Maybe if our society kept its thoughts to itself more often than not, I wouldn't be feeling this need for justificaiton, but this is my culture, where everything is up to scrutiny, where people can say whatever they want, and I think I have internalized a lot of the comments.
4. The age old question of who to invite
Okay, I know this sounds old-school. But honestly, should my intimate, weird, dryad ceremony be open to friends who will want to mock, question and cajole me? When I mentioned "potluck" for a reception, I was greeted by many testimonials of those who had heard from a bride whose family chose to boycott their wedding just at the insinuation that they would have to bring a potluck dish to a wedding! And what about family? I have this devilish urge to invite half of some families, like the mom and son, but not the dad and daughter or other various combinations. Cherry-picking would be an appropriate word here. Okay, i have no solution for this, just wanted to complain.
5. Place and People
To reiterate on the people question, I want my wedding to be a celebration of our life together. It is not to rehash old haunts from my childhood. The little girl dream I had of marrying at the Saskatoon Berry Barn would be great, if J had I had happily gone there even once together. But we didn't. Now I have an understanding fiance, he would marry me on Venus if I convinced him that it meant a lot to me. But the point is for me to actually engage him in these decisions, so he feels the solemnity and intent of getting married too! They always say in books "don't forget, this is your wedding." So why would we get married in a place we've never been together? Or for that matter, in our hometown of Saskatoon, when we met in Calgary, live in Calgary, and the people we have chose to have in our lives (friends) are in Calgary and those who have to be in our lives (family from SK) will likely make their best effort to go wherever we choose?
As for the people, I truly hope that this ceremony makes it clear to those present that they are there to see the culmination of their support for us as a couple. Of course, some will be on the Bride's side (Aunts who encouraged me to keep looking for Mr. Right, somehow never telling me how wrong my Mr. Wrongs were) and some on the Grooms (J's friend shutting his mouth everytime I opened mine to criticize his lovelife, knowing how much J loves me). And hopefully we will have a few people who helped us along as a couple (oh the colorful neighbour who seems to see me and J as some sort of beacon of light for what is right in life). And all of those present will be asked to continue their support for us as a couple. I personally see this as a chance for those present to act as Godparents, knowing that if something should happen, they might very well be asked to step in and act as faith harborers for me and J, reminding us of why we are blessed. Wow, what a big question to ask of people, but isn't that why your wedding should be slightly more intimate than 350 people? Do they really feel responsible for you, or are they there to check out the chicks at the dance? Do people still say "chicks?"
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