Why is Everyone Trying to Sell Me Stuff?

Every time I look on Facebook (which I shouldn't do anyway because Facebook is the devil but I can't seem to stop) another person is advertising another thing that they are selling privately as their new amazing career.  Deals, kickbacks, job flexibility! Somehow everyone is making billions of dollars off this stuff without having to work at all.  Long gone are the days of Mary Kay and Tupperware parties, now you can pretty much get anything you want from these "independent sales representatives" who are your "friends" on Facebook: skincare, vitamins, jewelry, clothing, even sex toys!  I might be crazy, but I don't trust any of it. Not one bit. They all seem like a bunch of pyramid schemes to me.  And the scariest thing is that these aren't just random people trying to sell me this stuff. These are normal people, dare I say "friends", who I thought wouldn't ever be the type to get themselves wrapped up in some kind of pyramid scheme/weird business venture. But, who am I to judge? Maybe they really are making money, maybe the stuff is legit, maybe I need to get in on it myself...

Coffee on the Regs

I can't think of one thing that I do as regularly as drink coffee.  I mean every day, first thing, without fail.  No questions asked. 

 I wish I could remember to take a vitamin/echinacea/zinc/magic potion/something else "good" for me like I remember to drink my coffee. Honestly, I don't even have to "remember". It just is and shall be.  And I start to wonder/hope that the repercussions of a daily coffee intake are good and not bad because imma drink coffee either way. Perhaps someone should create a tincture which could imbue ones coffee with things that are undeniably  "good" for you. There's an idea.

Fashion Disaster

While driving to work this morning, I decided that the short sleeve turtle neck sweater is the most unfortunate and pointless piece of clothing in fashion history. It truly violates all fashion rules of comfort, practicality, and cuteness.  Here's why: 1) When are you ever warm enough for short sleeves and want to wear a turtle neck?; 2) Hello, matronly. 3) It's just not cute.

There. It's been said.

A Pet Peeve

If you're dirty, it means you need a bth

I don't understand why people think that they need to be flexible in order to practice yoga. A yoga practice is just that, practice. Just as you practice anything, you do it in order to get better at it. As a musician would practice his or her instrument, a yogi practices his or her yoga.

Additionally, with yoga the goal isn't to get better at doing certain postures but rather to get better at achieving flexibility, awareness, and stillness of the mind. So if you say "I don't do yoga because I'm not flexible", it means you need to do more yoga. The cause is the cure.

This Year's Pollen Post

I should probably have a special blog just for my posts about pollen, because I legit have posted about pollen every season since I began blogging. In lieu of saying how much I hate pollen (which I do) and how much it is rocking me (which it is), I will just leave these right here as legit representations of how I feel:

Pretty Much...

For when your friends are enjoying the lovely weather and you just want to hide

For when you're tired of your need to avoid pollen dictating your daily routine

For when you try to explain what's going on with your sinues

For that first day in late May when you can actually go outside again

On the Apple Watch

I'm extremely creeped out by the Apple watch. I can't quite say why except that it just seems wrong that you could have it on you all the time or that it could have you all the time (No pun intended). It's just too much for me. I don't want to constantly have acces to everything on my wrist at all times (I did it again). 

Anywho, that's my thought on it. But, who knows...maybe people were extremely creeped out by the iPhone when it first came out.

Love your body photo shoot

My yoga studio did a photo shoot to promote the idea that yoga is for every body.

Everybody and every body.

I like this idea since most of the media around yoga shows extremely skinny "fit" people doing advanced postures and when it's not that it's somehow deemed not as legit or not "yoga".  I'm just as guilty as everyone else, I suppose, in thinking this. I mean, I follow these people on instagram and am even inspired by them.  But I like to also keep an open mind about what is and isnt't yoga.

Yoga means union and yoga is everything. So certainly yoga is for everybody and every body need not look the same in a yoga posture. 

Here are a few shots from our photo shoot:

It's a beautiful day

Got a lot behind me and much more ahead, but for now...it's a beautiful day!

Never the Same Rock: A Guide to 2015

On our New Years Day stroll along the McKenzie River, I couldn't help but be reminded of a saying/story/idea/whatever you want to call it that I've heard a lot. I especially remember being told this ad nauseam at Bikram Yoga Teacher Training.

 It goes something like this:

A rock is never the same rock because every drop of water that passes over it changes it

I think there might be a story that goes along with this idea, something from the Gita, but I can't remember right now. 

Anyway, on our snowy walk I kept thinking about how I'd been on this trail many times and maybe even seen these same river, rocks, trees, etc... but that it was all different every time I'd seen it. 

In this way, we are just like the river rocks or even the river itself, changing and being changing by the things around us. In 2015, I want to remember this. I want to hold it close. Because if we are never the same rock or river or whatever, then every moment is different. Every moment is the first and last of its kind, and therefore should be noticed, even revered.

This is my guide to 2015, and 16 and however many 20-whatevers I get to have after that.

Leggings..

are not
could be pants.

There was a time in my life not too long ago during which I had a firm stance on the whole "leggings are not pants" issue.  I had seen just about one too many young girls flashing their undies through a poor quality see-through legging a la exhibit A.

I can't believe I am about to say this (perhaps it is the fact that I am a yoga teacher, or maybe just because I always want to be comfy this climate) but I've changed my opinion on this topic.  Drumroll please...

Leggings can sometimes be pants. But only when adhering to this set of rules:

1) Said leggings must be of the thick material variety.
2) Wearer of said leggings must wear a shirt, sweater, or jacket that at least covers 1/2 or more of the wearer's bum.
3) Said leggings must be part of an ensemble conveying a message such as, but not limited to,  "I am going to yoga", "I am going on a run", "I woke up like this", "I stayed up all night studying",  or "I work at a leggings store".

See exhibit B

exhibit B

And there you have it folks, the new stance on leggings as pants. Have a field day!

Stillness

I've been re-reading a great yoga book lately:

Yoga: The Spirit and Practice of Moving into Stillness
By Erich Schiffman (1996)

My favorite longtime yoga teacher, Ti, read this book to us during class over the course of a year. It's a great yoga philosophy book. One to savor. One to read again and again.

I'm rereading it now through a new lens, finding old and new nuggets of wisdom.

Here's one from today's read:

Stillness is not the absence or negation of energy, life, or movement. Stillness is dynamic. It is unconflicted movement, life in harmony with itself, skill in action. It can be experienced whenever there is total, uninhibited, unconflicted participation in the moment you are in--when you are wholeheartedly present with whatever you are doing. (p. 3)

Chew on that, ya'll.

Ups and Downs

It's amazing how amazing I feel. And that's amazing.

I had a pretty bad yoga class on Thursday night. I was dehydrated, cramping, over-heating and psychologically driving myself nuts with fear and anxiety about all of the bad things I was feeling.  Friday morning I dragged myself out of bed and begrudgingly went to class only to have an amazing class both Friday morning and Friday night. Today, I feel great. I feel more awake and alive than I have felt in a long time.

That's the wonderful thing about this yoga: even though it's the same 26 postures and 2 breathing exercises taught with the same dialogue, every class is different. Every day is different. There are ups and downs, twists and turns, gains and losses but in the end it's yoga (or your life) and it's an amazing thing.

*And, yes, at this point I have most definitely drank the Kool-Aid. It tastes pretty good.

No-Things

I love doing nothing.

Like, seriously. I really like when I have nothing to do.

I suppose this is why people love the weekend, vacations, and the like.  But I think those people like to do nothing for a bit, and then get back to doing stuff. Those people say things like "I'd go crazy if I had nothing to do".

I wouldn't.

I suppose that makes me lazy, directionless, and destined for failure.
Oh well...

Exhibit A- me doing nothing in a hammock at the lake a year ago.

Awakening

How can you buck the system if you are "the man"?

Today I got to thinking about the world and how I want to be a part of it.  I'm not exactly sure of the answer to that question in total yet.  But what I do know is that I don't want to be "normal".  I don't want to go with the grain. I don't want to be a rule follower.  And, I most definitely do not want to be "the man".

I know, I know...systems and rules are put into place to organize people and  minimize chaos.  Well, I'm all for that.  I don't want people running around killing each other and rioting in the streets.  But I also don't want to be a drone. An empty void of a person passing the time by satiating with a myriad of worldly addictions.

You might be thinking...

How did you start thinking about this?
Are you some kind of an anarchist criminal?
What's wrong with you?

Well, I'll tell you.  It all started on my run yesterday.  I was running and feeling truly satisfied.  And wondering why it was hard for people to find satisfaction. The Stones had it right when they said "I can't get no Satisfaction".   I was thinking about satisfaction and how people (myself included) are so numb to being able to tell whether or not they are actually satisfied.  Why can't we get no?

 I think most of us are this way because society is set in a way in which humans are bombarded with distractions.  We have to distract ourselves from the banality.  This is how we become addicted.  Addicted to food.  Addicted to drugs and alcohol.  Addicted to sex.  Addicted to television.  Addicted to shopping. Addicted to exercise.  Addicted to surrounding yourself with people.  These addictions provide temporary satisfaction which we highly evolved 21st century beings have confused for real happiness, or santosha, contentment, if you will.  Our confusion and displacement of contentment allows us to float along through life, through the systems which were set up to contain us, unaware of our own oblivion.

I don't want to be a slave to the distractions anymore.

I hear people around me saying things like "We're all just finding ways to pass the time".  And maybe that is true.  Maybe we all need to find a delicate balance between our spiritual fulfillment/pursuit of contentment and our worldly distractions because we are only human.  And what about things like art, music and literature?  Couldn't these things be considered "distractions".  I don't know the answer.  But I do know that I can't ever hope to find my way to the surface for a breath of fresh air and reality if I continue to be "the man" participating in a system that condones the exertion of some kind of power over others. A system that is based upon power imbalances, control, and oppression is a system that breeds tendency towards a need for diversion and beguilement.

I want to be awake.

Artistic License

A friend emailed me yesterday informing me that she had shown my blog to her 10th grade English class as an example in a lesson about blogs (Yikes! Sorry, guys.). She then commented on my post about the empty fridge and asked if Jason and I wanted to come over for dinner since we didn't have any food (Double yikes! Not about coming over to hang out, but about people thinking that we are starving or something). I explained to her that our fridge was not literally "empty" but close and that I had exaggerated a bit for the sake of the post and to better emphasize my point about teacher salaries.

This got me thinking about artistic license and the lines between fiction and non fiction. How much artistic license can a writer take? And, where can I get one of those?

This has been a debated issue in the literary world. We all know about the Oprah/James Frey drama. A Million Little Pieces is released as a memoir, Oprah gives it her stamp of approval, James Frey makes a million little pieces of money. Later we find out, many of his accounts were a million little pieces of bullshit.

Greg Mortenson, author of Three Cups of Tea, tops the non-fiction charts and is touted in humanitarian circles for his amazing work setting up schools in a war torn Middle East. Later we find out many of his accounts were exaggerated to heighten the conflict in the story and perhaps to depict Mortenson as bolder than he really was.

Ishmael Beah, memoirs about about growing up as a child soldier in Sierra Leone in A Long Way Gone, only to have his credibility disputed because some of his stories were not properly corroborated.

And, I could go on, but you get the point. All of the examples beg the questions: Where does artistic license stop and lying begin? Who determines the answer? If literature is another form of art, then who really cares? Isn't art supposed to blur lines and break rules? Memoir: fiction or non-fiction? Can anything ever truly be non-fiction if it's all just someone's account of something that happened?

Sometimes fact can be enhanced with fiction. It's all for the sake of story-telling; hence the saying "spinning a good yarn". If I told you that my fridge was not empty, and that we did in fact have some Food Lion brand spaghetti noodles, tomato sauce, Brussels sprouts and blah blah blah...see you're already bored.

So, yes, actually the fridge was empty AND there was a lion in the freezer.

Peeing on the Wall

Every year, without fail, a 5th grader at our school gets in trouble for peeing on the wall in the boys' bathroom. I'm always baffled as to why someone would do this and why it happens every single year. Well, today I cracked the case.
As I walked out of my classroom on my way to the bathroom, I suddenly had the urge to do something crazy just to shake things up a bit. And, for a split second peeing on the wall crossed my mind. Now, I am an adult. I have self control and a sense of perspective, so I was able to contain myself. Then, I remembered how when I was in 5th grade I used to sit on the windowsill of the second story girls bathroom at my elementary school and dangle my legs out the window. Some girls were scared by this (rule followers!), others thought I was crazy for doing this (robot children!), but for me it was a small way that I could carve out a moment for myself in the rote routine of my public school day. My thoughts went to the bevy of misunderstood boys from the past 5 years. Then, I realized it: the boys are so bored out their minds that they must do something to break the monotony of the day. Peeing on the wall is an outlet for them...literally. It may seem disgusting and necessary to you and I, but to a 10 year old it is the perfect way to exercise one's independence and control of their situation. It says "Even though I'm stuck in here all day, I can do what I want for a couple of minutes and man, it's thrilling!"

Lessons Learned: Students need ways to feel independent.
Students need to break out of their routines sometimes.
Students need to go against the grain sometimes, constructively of course.
But for cleanliness and safety reasons, we need to find alternatives to peeing on the wall.

Remember who you are

While deeply "relaxing" in hanumanasana, a story and some wise words inspire and remind of the truth.







Hanumanasana is named for Hanuman, a divine character in Hindu philosophy and the true hero in the Ramayana. Hanuman was a monkey who was born with divine powers. He had great wisdom and great strength and as with all youngsters with advanced intelligence and talent he had a propensity towards mischief. He would play tricks on his teachers, and constantly bothered the sages by moving their deities, and rearranging their alters. He would jump from tree to tree and startle his family. Among his favorite pranks, was sneaking up upon the sages while they were meditating and juggling them to get their attention. Eventually, the sages grew tired of Hanuman and his pranks and made a decision to mildly curse him until he was old enough to understand his powers. His curse would be that he no longer would have control of his powers; he would only be able to use them in a time of great need.
Fast forward to Hanuman as an adult monkey, where he becomes a key player in the Ramayana. Hanuman becomes close friends with king Rama whose beautiful wife Sita is kidnapped by the evil king and taken to an island (what is now Sri Lanka). All of the Rama's animal freinds are trying to figure out how they can save Sita. Many of the monkeys can swing from the trees and jump very far but none could clear the distance from the beach to the island where Sita is being held captive. An old gorilla-bear who grew up with Hanuman says "Hanuman, you can do it. Remember?".






Hanuman is confused he knows he is only a monkey like the others. He can not make the jump, there is no use in trying. The old bear looks to Hanuman again and says "Remember who you are". Hanuman remembers and leaps across the ocean to Sita's rescue.






Thus, Hanumanasana is born. A split, resembling the great leap Hanuman took after remembering who he was.







And, therein in lies the wisdom of this story, something so simple and yet so jarring: Remember who you are..

Safety First

You wouldn't think that a yoga teacher would use these airplane safety instructions as a metaphor to assure and encourage students to take care of themselves first and foremost in their lives. It happened. Today.
I was surprised considering the fact that a large part of the yogic journey is about humanitarianism and selflessness. Once I overcame my initial shock at hearing this, I was delighted! I mean, I've been secretly singing the song of primary self-preservation for years. Always wondering if being an only child had turned me into a selfish asshole. But it really makes sense. I began to think about how much of the yogic journey is about the self. In order to become one with the SELF, one must know the self. And to know the self, one must first propagate a healthy self. Cultivating a healthy self isn't just about doing your treating your body as a temple through yoga practice, meditating and eating well; it is also about honoring yourself psychologically. Only then, can you truly begin to give of yourself unto others. To be a good person, you must be good to yourself.
The yoga sutras reinforce this idea in the mention of the first yama, Ahimsa, which is non-harming. Non harming of the self primarily, and then non harming of others.
Before you can give to others, you must take care of yourself. Otherwise you will be an empty shell only to eventually fill with resentment and umbrage.

So, remember: Make sure YOUR oxygen mask is securely affixed before helping other passengers and children

Wishing I could play the guitar

There was a brief time in college when I tried to learn how to play the guitar.

Actually, no, strike that. Before that, there was a brief time in 4th grade when I tried to learn how to play the guitar. I went to guitar lessons in the basement of a strange house (probably not that strange, but it seemed quite strange to 9 year old Blaine). My teacher was also a wierd man, who vaguely resembled Gary Busey in Point Break, named Decatur. I eventually fought to quit the guitar based on the aforementioned weirdness associated with it and the intense finger pain that it caused me. Oh yeah, and I hated to practice. I thought that if I just went to my lesson every week, I would somehow become a guitar aficionado. This did not happen. I became frustrated. Decatur was also frustrated. I quit.

Then, during a brief time in college I tried again. This time I practiced. I wrote little ditties. One of which I remembered today:

I like, I like mmmmm salvation Through my, through my My vegan chocolate chip cookies and my hair hanging down hanging down all over town

Quality stuff. I wrote a lot of these. I still do, only now sans guitar.

I wish I had really learned to play the guitar. I'd be a sexy little folk/alt. country/R &B singer. I'd travel all around and perform my ditties.

Sigh.

OLD school

Crows feet and saddle bags aren't the only signs of aging.

You'll also know that you are old when your students begin to

1) Grow up, go to high school and show up on your husbands high school roster
2) Drop out of school and have babies
3) Think that you are lame
4) Not remember you