Thursday, 23 September 2010
Thursday, 1 July 2010
Wednesday, 30 June 2010
Tuesday, 29 June 2010
It has been with me through at least 8 apartments, a handful of boyfriends, a lot of weird acting auditions, many different countries, and various jobs. It has been there through my skinny wardrobe and my not so skinny wardrobe. Feeling good and feeling bad. Being happy and being, well, hormonal.
Yoga is like my houseplant, Palmy. He, being named for his attribute of being a palm tree, has been with me through thick and thin. He has even driven across country with me…twice. Palmy is just a part of my life. One day you wake up and realize that you’ve spent a third of your life with a houseplant. So too, I am starting to get used to having yoga around. It is like the song, “I’ve grown accustomed to her face”. Yoga is like that. It is the Eliza Doolittle to my Professor Higgins. At first it seems like a good project. And then you can’t imagine life without it.
It doesn’t mean that one day you get it, or you master it, or it becomes easy. It just means that practice makes practice. Yes, that’s right, you heard me. Practice makes practice. And that is yoga. And that is why yoga. Yoga is a mirror for life and it is also the leveling stick. I do yoga until my bubble comes up in the middle. And I have to do that over and over, day after day, because the stick is always moving and that bubble is always floating away.
I’ll never “get it”. I’ll never own it. I’ll never master it. I will always be chasing it, like a butterfly, content, sometimes, not to catch it. And like my Palmy, or Higgins’ Eliza, I realize that my life is better for having yoga in it. There would be a little tear in the fabric of my existence if yoga weren’t there.
So, for as long as I get to do yoga, God-willing that will be a long time, it will be a gift in my life. I don’t get to keep it, but I get to enjoy it, and give it away, perhaps to continue the gifting of the gift. Yoga, like all of the best things in life, is beautiful because it reminds us that the greatest things cannot be owned. Great things will grace our lives if we appreciate them, share them, nurture them, and let them go when it is time.
Kids will grow up and leave the nest, parents and loved ones will pass away, eventually our own bodies will fade. Fact. The things that mean the most to us will all have to be let go of one day. It makes me wonder why we hold on so tightly to things that don’t really matter at all.
Monday, 28 June 2010
If I can’t stop staring at my engagement ring, will I fare the same fate as Narcissus?
I feel I might be so drawn into the sparkles that now grace my left hand that I might fall into a pool never to come out again. It’s not quite as bad as staring in the mirror though, right?
Aren’t I rather staring at the expression of love? And not love of myself, and not even really the love of another person, but the love that comes from two people truly committing themselves to one another? It is the love that one only dreams of finding in all their lives, the love that is talked about, the love that eludes your life until it reveals itself. It is the love that can’t be known until you feel it. For this, I will fall into the pool.
And I have.
And for now that pool seems to be ice blue and sitting on my finger. But it merely teases me. It whispers in my ear and tells me to wake up from this dream, which is why I can’t stop looking at it. I am still pinching myself. I can’t believe I met him. I can’t believe he really exists. And I can’t believe it feels this good.
Narcissus was cursed to scorn the love people gave him and fall in love with himself instead. Isn’t this the plague of dating in our 20’s? If we just took the time to pull our own heads out of our own asses long enough, we might treat the people who love us a little better.
You live. You learn.
You find The One. You forget yourself.
You see yourself through your love’s eyes. You meet yourself for the first time.
When someone gives you this gift, of awakening your life, the world never looks the same. The colors change, the noises fade, the clocks ticks to a different schedule. You fall into a new pool. And I might just bathe in this pool for a while. Soak. Swim. Surf. Sip. Saturate for sixty-six years.
Go ahead. Take the plunge.
Saturday, 26 June 2010
The job search titles might as well read “slow death”. Because really that is how this feels. And not only does it feel like that now, but I am quite sure that it will feel like that in the interview and for every day that follows after I accept the position. Perhaps I should take up smoking and shorten my sentence. I thought a job was supposed to be some sort of expression of who you are. It is something interwoven with the very fabric of one’s personality and inner purpose, which of course was gifted from God. I actually do believe that God granted us all a purpose and a gift to call our very own. And when we are working in alignment with that gift we are in the act of serving God.
But then there is the directionless meandering that happens after college. I will not pretend I am the only one with this gift. Most of my friends have also enjoyed this skill since getting a diploma. It’s not for lack of drive that we can’t pull it together. It is the fluorescent-light laden cube death that steals our spirits. It is the promise of “secretary spread” or “desk-ass”. It is the faint dark circles under our eyes that tell the world we aren’t completely happy. And if you aren’t completely happy it is your fault after all. Because you should be able to have the perfect job that fulfills you and plays off your God-given talents.
Slow death. The pace actually quickens when you are searching for a job because you realize how short your life really is. How precious every moment. How loved, every loved one. The job you take is what you are trading your time for. Money is worth only what someone will give you for it. And most of us are giving our time for money. Yes, now I’m confused as well.
In my job search, to keep it fun, I like to try and decode the titles of positions. Just about everything translates into “sales”. There is “consultant”, that sounds awfully important. “Advisor”, yes, I must be an authority on the matter. And let us not forget “team member”, give me a name tag so I can make your day.
I will try not to see job-hunting as the beginning of the end, but rather the beginning of the beginning. Wish me luck.
Friday, 25 June 2010
Who sits and watches the world go by? It is the smoker at the café. It is the job seeker at her laptop. It is the man who has retired, having worked too hard all his life, slightly broken now. Watching the world is what you do when you stop feeling like you need to be somewhere else. Perhaps it happens in fleeting moments. Perhaps it comes as one day in many. But if you have never stopped to watch the world go by you live in a constant state of reaching. And reaching implies that you have not attained. And if you have not attained then perhaps you live in a constant state of discontentment. What happens if you accept that there is nothing to attain? Do you stop endeavoring?
There is a new wrinkle on my forehead, a crease that marks one long line of worry. You cannot get rid of those lines with creams containing retinol. The only thing to do is release the furrow in ones brow. The tension must be let go of. I find myself rubbing my crease to encourage my brow to relax. I find myself breathing a little more slowly so not to get anxious. I find myself releasing the need to attain something that I can’t even quite define, but that I know keeps me up at night. But I can’t release it.
Once I think I have let go, I rediscover the need to strive again, to reach, to attain, to achieve, to be something more by definition. The crease on my forehead is still there. Maybe I will buy the retinol cream. But it is not the wrinkle, it is the cause of the wrinkle. And thinking about my wrinkle makes it worse. It feeds it, giving it power.
Return to being a Zen cow. Master the art of non-attachment. Take more yoga classes. Start to become obsessed with the new muscles in my shoulders. That looks nice. I will go more. This is not non-attachment. This is not being unlinked to the result. This is not being in the moment. This is not anything close to enlightenment.
Sit and watch the world go by.
I sit and watch the world go by. One minute, one cup of coffee, one yoga class, one day, one week, one paycheck, one month, one season, one quarter, one birthday, one holiday, one death, one birth, one year, one life, at a time.