Saturday, November 28, 2009

What's the point?


Occasionally, and I mean OCCASIONALLY as in once-in-a-great-while-but-absolutely-not-too-often, I appreciate my husband kicking me in the butt so that I don't destroy my Saturday by procrastinating. The reason I procrastinate is that I am so worried that I'll make the wrong decision as to what I should be doing with my day off that I never get around to deciding anything, and before I know it - day's over!

Today was no different. P had spent the morning with his horse while the kids and I took our sweet time before I got down to the regular weekend-pickup-laundry-beds-lunch chores. After eating lunch and delivering our daughter to a friend (where I gratefully made sure I was offered some coffee), I tried to decide if I should go to the sauna? Or should I just jump on the crosstrainer? Or should I go for a walk along the sound? Or should I just hang out with my husband? Or should I check out the new fitness center that's opening this winter? Or can I do a combination of said activities? Which ones? In what order? Or do I just screw it all?

This is the way I am, and luckily my P knows it all too well. So he does what needs to be done; he tells me, loud and clear, "Go now!" So I did.

I drove to the sound and decided to go for a walk along the water before going to the sauna. My immediate thought when I climbed out of the car and saw the white caps was, "What's the point of me living this close to the water if I don't take the time to come here?" What's the point of having eyes if I don't take the opportunity to enjoy the beauty around me? What's the point of having ears if I don't allow myself the pleasure of listening to the waves as they hit against the rocks?

I got to the sauna as dusk was falling. The southeastern wind had changed the water that usually caresses the shore softly to more powerful waves that rhytmically rubbed against the rocks as though the wind were giving the shore a deep tissue massage. The moon shone on the water, and evening sky's dark canvas was lit in the distance by flickering Christmas lights and stars alike.

What's the point of feeling anything if I can't let the invigorating sensation of ice-cold water encase me only to be followed by feeling a sea breeze's drying touch to naked skin, soon to warmed by the welcoming heat of a wood-furnace?

What's the point of having a family if I don't make it 100% clear to them what they mean to me? Now it's time to join my son who is dying to get our Christmas decorations up. Just seeing his eager expression is enough to make me smile.

Pictures from Google

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Giving thanks


Today is Thanksgiving, and I'm not even sad to be sitting alone in the company apartment with a laptop and FB to keep me company. On the contrary, I feel pretty good. Just reading all the FB comments with everyone wishing everyone else a Happy Thanksgiving is enough to get me into some serious holiday spirit.

What I'm most thankful for on this particular day is the phone call I received from my friend B, the one who is being treated for liver cancer. I had spoken to him on Monday, the day before he was going to go for yet another chemo-session, something he's been doing for the past 2½ years. However, since the worst of his tumors had shown some signs of change his doctor planned on adjusting his treatment to something more aggressive. And aggressive is exactly what they got. B told me that if he hadn't been at the hospital, then I wouldn't have been talking to him today. He was literally poisoned and this close (minimal space between thumb and forefinger) to dying.

But he didn't. And today, two days after the whole ordeal, we could talk, and even cynically, morbidly joke about it. Because that's what we do. We laugh together. Afterwards, when we had hung up, that's when I felt shaken. Once again I realized the mistake I'd made of taking life for granted.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

The present


This morning I went to class; it was the first time I tried to do yoga since injuring my knee two weeks ago. It was also the first time I would be attending one of Oscar's classes. Oscar started doing yoga för me about 1½ years ago and before I knew it, he had decided to become a Virya yoga instructor as well.

And that's exactly what he did and succeeded with flying colors. I got chills just listening to him as he explained what we would be focusing on for class. His theme for today was inspired by a quote from my kids' favorite movie (this week): Kung Fu Panda. In it the old, wise Master Oogway teaches, "Yesterday is history; tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That's why we call it 'the present'."

For me, who had once again found myself starting over, I couldn't have been offered a greater gift. Rather than complain about my limitations and allow frustration to fog my mission, I repeated to myself with each move and each breath, "This is a present." And the words rang true to me, even though I had to adapt my positions to the easier modifications; even though I wouldn't have been able to flow through either level 2 or 3; even though I could only yoga for 1 hour. So when I was done, I was filled with joy and gratitude for that which I had been able to accomplish, for that which this wise yoga instructor had given me in form of encouragement and support.

Oscar was my hero for today. I will never grasp how this 18-year-old (yes, Oscar is young enough to be my son...) can do what he does, and do it so well, but I am so grateful I was able to take part in his magic.

Monday, November 23, 2009

POP QUIZ!



Once again, I firmly believe that Life will keep dealing out the lessons I need to learn until I have learned them...

...and even if I'm making progress, all of the sudden - POP QUIZ!

The progress I have made has had much to do with making a conscious decision to being present for my family, soulfully as well as physically. So for us I am so grateful that we decided to invest about $100 a month for a cleaning service so that P and I neither need to feel constantly drained from housekeeping (from when we actually do get down to business) nor do we need feel frustatingly anxious (from when we know we should, but we just don't have the energy to clean).

Even my involuntary sabbatical from physical yoga has provided me with more time and less stress, so this weekend my kids and I could enjoy being creative together at a Parent-Child Fantasy Painting Workshop. Talk about being able to spend some focused time with your kids! And I can only admit that even though I've always dreamed of being able to paint, I've been afraid to try since I don't know where to start and I have a habit of avoiding any activities I suck at. After 1½ hours, I didn't want to leave. I felt so incredibly free.

My "Control My Fuse Campaign" continues to move forward as well...well, at least where the kids are concerned. I still have to work on disarming the explosive buttons my husband has an uncanny ability of activating when my threshold is at its lowest. And other things: for example the cleaning service hadn't cleaned our house today since I had forgotten to leave a key, which of course is my bad. On the other hand, after apologizing emphatically for my mistake, it dawned on me: Why hadn't they called me on my cell? I was in town and could have driven back to the house. Irritation warning...disappointment growing....thoughts fixating....

A-ha! POP QUIZ!! How much time and energy do I plan on wasting while I obsess on about a stupid key and a missed cleaning day? On a scale of 1-10, are we even on the scale? How much is this irritation costing me emotionally; what other things have to step back so that I can fuel the flames as I vent internally? Oh, it's tough to break bad habits!

Then again, Life offers me hints, helps me along, you know, with the not-so-subtle sledgehammer method: Today I met with a colleague, a woman I've become well aquainted with over the past 7 years. She's in her early fifties, yet she looks ten years younger. She's slender, has great hair, and always looks gorgeous. I asked how things were, and she answered, "Not so good." And she then told me that in a few weeks she will be having a masectomy since finding a lump that turned out to be a malignant tumor.

So what exactly was it I had to bitch about? Instead, it's time for me to go sit with my kids who are presently laughing together as they watch Kung Fu Panda.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

What? Already?

The stitches are out, and the pain only makes itself known occasionally. We decided (that is my husband and I) that all four of us (meaning we would be dragging the kids along) needed some fresh air, and together we took a long "Bingo" walk around the village. My knee was not a problem at all.

I still have trouble bending it, though. It hurts to apply pressure by kneeling, and I can't squat. Still, I could have probably done some hip openers or pilates tonight, if I had put my mind to it. Instead I treated myself (together with my husband) to a clandestine binge with a pint of Ben & Jerry's Half-baked ice cream.

I swear I'll set my alarm early and start my morning with a trial run on my crosstrainer... My goal is to be able to teach my last yoga class of 2009 on Sunday.

Can you believe that this year is drawing towards an end? That in less than three weeks I'm going to be 40?

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Mirror, mirror, on the wall....


I try to pretend that it's no big deal. I read the "right" books and magazines in an attempt to transcend my egoic tendencies. I find it easy to accept my students no matter what abilities they have. But then there's the other side to my personality...

I make no secret of admitting that what got me to start doing yoga from the very beginning was my desire to have a nice body. If I could achieve that while sitting on the couch eating Ben & Jerry's then this blog would be named "Ice-cream-mamma indulges...again!" And I realize that the same is true for a lot of people, even those who take up yoga. In that sense vanity is a great motivator. And I think a healthy dose is good for our marriage in the sense that I WANT to look good for my husband; I want him to think I look good; and I definitely enjoy looking at him when he's looking good... That's when I feel like I'm 22 again and seeing him for the first time.

But then there's the downside, my dark side of the moon. The anxiety brought about by my imagined detoriation of muscle tone and flexibility. The sense that a week of not exercising is immediately resulting in my jeans fitting too snugly around my hips, waist, and butt. My nervous restlessness awakening my taboo sweet tooth, coaxing me, promising me comfort.

Not at all yogic, I know. I've thought a lot about this during this week in convalescence. I've challenged myself with questions like, "Could you go a year without buying new clothes?" "If you switched jobs and took a huge pay cut, could you still be happy not being able to consume as much as you do today?" I hate to admit it, but I'm not there yet. And it's getting apparent that I better start learning. It's not like the wrinkles on my forehead or the hairs on my chin are going to be any fewer. I know this in my head, but...

Maybe this is what karma is trying to teach me this time? Maybe the shift in why I work out should be in an effort to keep my body healthy. Because what I learned last week was that while everything looked okay on the outside, my knee is degenerating. And if that weren't enough, the message of my folly really hit home when I read my favorite blog, Börja Om, this evening. In it the author writes about her child, a 6-year-old boy whose father died this past March, as he explains for his teacher that he didn't feel like adding his father to the family portrait he had drawn. He said he didn't need to, since he carries his father "here" (points to his heart).

Need I say more about what really matters? Get with the picture, Judie, and screw whatever the mirror says...

Saturday, November 14, 2009

The obituary

At the risk of seeming insensitive I have to say that I've read the coolest obituary I've ever seen in today's newspaper. Can you believe it made me smile? The first thing that caught my eye was the image of a pair of lips, like when you blot your lipstick, in red. The same red color was used for the deceased's name (what a horrible term -strike that!), I mean for what obviously must have been a really lively lady with a lot of "pizazz". As I continued reading I realized that this woman had prior to her death chosen to write her own death announcement:

A kiss for you all from
XXXXX
And especially to:
XXXXX (family members)
XXXX
XXX, etc
Now I've gone and will not be returning
and it will only be worse, my dears, if you cry
Nothing can change the destinies we are given
so I ask that you remember me as I was
As you stand here now, perhaps missing me
I want for you, my dears, to awaken and embrace your lives
and live your remaining days to the fullest
Welcome to my final party!
Information about the funeral

For some reason our consumption-ridden culture teaches us to fear death. I am no different. Those who have succeeded in taking the lessons of yogic philosophy to heart do not fear death and claim to have thereby unlocked the secret to a life in bliss. My own shortcomings won't even allow me to grasp the idea of being able to think about death without discomfort.

But wouldn't it be great to have enough grace, integrity, and acceptance to leave such a heartfelt message to your loved ones before making the final passage, just as this fantastic woman did? To compose an obituary that made people smile?

Picture from Google

Friday, November 13, 2009

Late bloomer


In certain areas I am, always have been, and probably always will be a late bloomer... Even biologically I was the last girl to develop physically, hell, both of my little sisters beat me in that race!

As far as the rest goes:

I didn't buy a cassette Walkman until CD's were everywhere.

Even though I liked sports, I didn't start working out until I was twenty. The first time I tried jogging I couldn't even run a ½-mile.

I just bought my first, private cell phone less than a year ago.

By the time I discovered Facebook (thanks to a friend!), everyone and their brother had already joined (except my husband who refuses!).

It took me three years to even check out a blog, much less start one myself.

And what got me started on this theme...

Being at home I had the opportunity to discover "Project Runway" which has been on TV for, what, 5 years?!

But it rocks!

Report card


My nephew just got his report card and with a B+ average made his mommy proud (Go, Spencer!). It makes me wonder what my report card in the school of life would look like this semester?

Last week I promised myself that I would make a conscious effort to curb my temper and raise my threshold for irritation. For that I give myself an A. I have had an incredibly harmonious week with my kids; it's been fanstastic. My 6-year-old Alex has been spoiling me by giving me spur of the moment massages since my leg hurts, and he feels sorry for me.

As far as accepting my circumstances, yeah I'm worth an A there as well! At another point in my life I might have found myself crying in selfpity over my loss of control. Studying yoga has really helped me to understand that we will never be able to be in control of everything that happens to us. If anything I am thankful for having found out that I have osteoarthritis since that gives me the opportunity to do something about it. I can't cure it, but with the right kind of exercise I can hopefully keep myself together for years to come.

Stress managment? A. I think I'm too tired to freak out about having to juggle my work schedule. When has my work schedule ever not needed juggling? Try never. When will my work schedule ever be normal? See previous answer. When work no longer works for me (and my family) then it will be time to find a new job. Period.

Phys Ed (sv=idrott)? C What can I say? Doc said I had no restrictions, after all, "You're a P.T.; you know what to do..." And I just wanted to say, "Yeah, and you're an orthopedic surgeon, but I don't see you treating cardiac patients or delivering babies!" I guess the knee is OK, but it's pretty stiff and sore, and I caught a monster of a cold at the hospital.

I realize that selfpraise, especially in a public forum, is a huge breach of womanly conduct. But this isn't about seeking approval from others. Ever since I turned 30 and had one of the worst periods of my life I have been searching for ways to live life to the fullest. I have wanted to change my faults. And like any report card, my grades only reflect my status as of this moment. It's a lot easier to fare well when you're not in the middle of a major crisis. And for that I am most humbly thankful.

Things to work on - start by getting off of my butt (I'm not that handicapped) and get some work done. Although I have to admit that it is nice to just zone out while looking at the sun shine on the apple tree outside of my window.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Good news. Bad news.


The good news: The operation went well. I managed even to "surprise" the surgeon who was convinced that I had torn my meniscus. But as soon as I was under (the anethesia) they were able to reposition my knee which meant that it had simply been locked - REALLY locked. They went in and could conclude that my meniscus was fine and in tact. That means that I don't need any rehabilitation, sick leave, or restrictions other than to wait for the incisions to heal.

The bad news: While examining my knee the surgeon discovered that my cartilage is damaged which is a sign of osteoarthritis. While I don't need to do anything about it now, I will probably be needing to have a knee replacement done some time down the road. Now it was my turn to be surprised. I have NEVER had any problems with my knee! I've never been on crutches! And I can't even begin to spell the term "double-jointed". But there it was, my verdict, exactly one month before my 40th birthday.

So for all of you who don't have enough time to exercise (myself included), rethink your priorities (myself included). It could very well be that hour you give yourself 2-3 times a week which is holding your body's glue together, whether you know it or not.

Now it's time to increase my glucosamine supplements as well...

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Beware of what you wish for...

That girl standing on the corner could be me right now. Dark hair, pony tail, standing still while the whirlwind traffic flies by. Funny, too, because that's also the only way I can stand right now - supporting my weight with my left leg while my right leg is bent.

It's not like I want to sound like a martyr since everyone I know is busy, busy, busy. But this fall has been for me much busier than usual. Still, I got a break when I caught a stomach bug a few weeks ago, which, honestly, came at a perfect time. Now that I was done with my travels outside of Sweden I was ready to really focus on getting my life's puzzle back together. And knowing that we would be going on vacation in December, well, I couldn't say that I was feeling particularly sorry for myself.

So this "break" from work, housework, working out, etc. wasn't anything I felt a real need for at this point in time. And usually I am more than happy to find some hidden meaning in unexpected setbacks. Not wanting to seem as though I'm delusional, still life is a lot easier to handle if you open yourself to inspiration even in the most unlikely of situations. But I guess sometimes sh** just happens. And with a laptop, newspaper, cell phone, coffee mug, and remote control within arm's reach...and with my family out doing their thing for the moment, well, it's not like I'm exactly suffering. The peace at home right now reminds me of the quiet you experience when you're outside during an evening snowfall, dampening all noise and bustle while blanketing you with solitude.

I'm expecting it to be a lot worse tomorrow with my bandaged, newly operated knee. Sometimes things have to get a little bit worse before they can turn around for the better.

Pictures from Google

Monday, November 9, 2009

The Verdict


7:45 A.M. Telephone lines at the medical center are scheduled to open.
7:55 A.M. Someone who works at the center decides that maybe it's about time someone opens the phone lines.
8:10 A.M. Nurse calls and offers appointment at 1 P.M. Since I know I'm going to end up being sent to see an orthopedic surgeon I ask if there's possibly an earlier opening? OK, hesitantly I am offered an 11 A.M. appointment with Dr. "Kenneth" (his real name).
10:50 A.M. I get to see Dr. "Kenneth" who doesn't make eye contact, who sprints down the corridor with me haggling after, who knows as much about knee injuries as my cat, who says he'll notify the hospital that I'm coming while walking out of the room without so much as offering to pick up my crutches that have fallen on the floor.
12:00 P.M. My neighbor/heroine of the day serves me lunch, coffee, and then drives me to the E.R.
14:00 X-rays - I try to use all that I've learned from years of watching Top Model about taking direction, using lighting, and finding angles.
15:00 I'm given a piece of paper and sent off to the orthopedic clinic. There I'm found guilty of 2nd degree assault and battery to my knee and ordered to return to the court, I mean clinic, the day after tomorrow to hear my sentence. The sentence will depend on what they find upon opening my knee surgically.

The irony is that all I ever do when I teach yoga is demand that my students follow all the biomechanic guidelines I can give them, to treat their joints with respect, and remember the vital importance of proper alignment. In life, work, and play, I constantly find myself for various reasons almost always on the floor. I am constantly going from sitting on the floor to getting up to sitting on the floor to getting up and so on and so on.

Hey, Karma! I don't turn 40 for another month! How about a break?! No, wait, don't take that literally!!

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Who's to know where the wind will take you?



Today's theme - kite flying. Physically: using uddiana bandha (your core muscles) along with mula bandha (your pelvic muscles) to anchor yourself in order to let your chest and heart open and fly (get it? like a kite!). And as far as the mind goes: like the song says, "Who's to know where the wind will take you?". I reminded my students to remember that when you fly a kite, sometimes you catch the wind and soar, and other times you're bound to have trouble getting off of the ground. It's all part of the package.

So I'm thinking to myself that I believe in this metaphor and thinking that naturally I accept that our journeys seldom move forward in a straight line without any obstacles. Then suddenly, right as I was about to stand up from the floor to dim the lights before the final relaxation, I accidentally twist my knee... It didn't really hurt, but all of the sudden I couldn't straighten my leg, and I couldn't apply any pressure on it.

Fast forward...yoga student drives me home...I take a shower (thank God we have a shower stool)...and now I'm in bed with a body pillow supporting the leg that I still can't straighten. I'm all for karma teaching the lessons that we need to learn, but damn(!), I thought I already got this one. And me who had finally just started getting my exercise regime back on a regular schedule and was really feeling motivated to getting into better shape!

Tomorrow morning I'll call the doctor. I'm guessing that I've injured my medial meniscus meaning I will probably need to have an arthroscopy done. I've been in bed for 1½ hours, and already I'm bored and my butt is killing me. Give me grace to deal with this!

Picture from Google

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Early New Year's Resolution

Like many others, I try to be personal without being private in my blog. Tonight, however, I have chosen to write an entry that reveals some unflattering chinks in my armour...

This past Thursday I was passing through Vienna Internat'l Airport towards my transfer flight to Copenhagen. I had forgotten that I had been there a few years earlier until my eyes met something that caused me to remember.

Psychics claim that certain places inhabit energy from memories of actions which have occurred in the past. So when I saw a row of seats across from the Swatch boutique, I stopped dead in my tracks. The last time I had been there I witnessed an overstressed and probably sleep deprived mother who saw no other way to quiet her hysterical 3-year-old son other than to start dealing out slaps across his face. All this while his older sister, who was maybe five, looked on in silence. I approached her and picked up her son and told her that she needed to calm down; that her type of behavior is illegal and could get her arrested. Flustered, she explained that she needed to get her son to calm down. I told her that I could help her; I asked her where she was heading and that I could help follow her and her children to whatever gate they needed to go to.

She wouldn't accept my offer, and since she had snapped out of her anger, I gave her her son back. As she walked off holding his hand; I said a silent prayer that that kind of behavior wasn't an ongoing thing. Because that's what I always fear when I hear children crying: that their parents are going to lose it and take their frustration out on them.

So there I was, at the exact same place again years later, and still my stomach had turned to ice. Earlier that week I had spent a lot more time than usual by myself in my hotel room. Not really feeling like flipping through what I'm sure must have been a potpourri of fantastic Cypriotic TV-channels, I used the silence to reflect upon how my heart could bleed for all the world's children, yet at the same time I all too often expect too much from my own two babies. Not that I would ever lay a hand on them (which is strictly illegal in Sweden, and wouldn't it be nice if the U.S.A. at some point could pass a similar law?!), but I snap at them too often, too easily. Usually because they don't realize how much energy and skill it requires to keep all our damned hamster wheels in motion.

And now it's becoming more and more evident to me: So what if the hamster wheel slows down? or even stops? Is it worth getting irritated with them just because we might be five minutes late? Is it unnatural that they try to get by doing the bare minimum just because they don't share my standards as far as housekeeping goes?

Already on my flight to Vienna I vowed that it was time for me to improve my behavior starting immediately. I would stop choosing irritation as a FIRST reaction to whatever my children would do. Then seeing those seats in the terminal only reinforced that decision. And as though Karma was really trying to drive the point home, as I climbed on my elliptical crosstrainer this morning, I tuned into Dr. Phil, and of course the subject was "Angry Moms".

Just so no one gets the wrong idea, I utterly adore my children, and I think I'm doing a pretty good job raising them together with my husband. I can happily say that we are a happy and extremely fortunate family. But still, there's always room for development and this is one thorn I want to try to remove for good. And what better way to do that than to go public and expose my shortcomings?

The past two days have gone really, really well I might add!