Sunday, January 31, 2010

Would you have stopped and listened?


This weekend I received an e-mail about this experiment the Washington Post did with violin virtuoso Joshua Bell (whom I'd never heard of earlier, so that you don't think I'm trying to impress anyone with cultural namedropping). This guy, dressed in jeans and cap, who plays his $3.5 M violin for soldout houses with tickets costing $100 each, agreed to stand in a Metro station an average Friday morning, and simply do his thing, incognito, just to see if the average passerbyer could perceive beauty in an unexpected enviroment at a random time of day.

How many musicians have I walked by without taking notice? Have I ever deposited money? Am I capable of distinguishing gifted musicians without having to dress formally and sit myself down in a concerthouse with a glossy program in hand telling me that what I am about to listen to is fabulous?

How do I act when going to and from any of the following, where I might find myself in the vicinity of such a musician: subway? mall? train station? town square? Here's how: head down, no eye contact, hurry on by so as not to feel pressured to make a donation.

Thus, I would more than likely been one of the approximately 1050 people (out of approx. 1070) who just rushed past, had I been at that particular Metro station that particular morning.

The article linked below is REALLY long, but you can skim through it and still get the opportunity to explore and ponder the question: Just how mindful are you in your everyday life? Because isn't that exactly what this is all about? Being in touch with your enviroment, your circumstances, your macrocosmos as well as your microcosmos? All that stuff we yogis love to read and recite about? Anyhow, it made for a really great theme in today's class. And I myself, as I prepared for this specific theme with my own mat session, only proved even more so to myself how easily distracted I at times become, and therefore found myself having to stop and start several sequences over, simply due to the static in my brain as well as my foggy perception.

How did Joshua fare? After an hour he had received $32. Something to think about.

Here's the link to the actual Pulitzer Prize winning article (and there's even some video footage along with the article). And if you just want to see a clip from YouTube:

Thursday, January 28, 2010

In Defense of One's Ego

Yet another week between entries. And despite these longer intervals between writing I have yet to uncover or offer any new personal reflections. In fact, when I finally landed in my hotel room for an hour long break (before heading out again into the freezing cold for dinner with my boss and coworkers), I immediately knew that I would use this fractional timeframe to open my blog and just write whatever popped into my head - whatever I felt like writing.

And being the natural born goodie-two-shoe that I am I naturally had an almost immediate reaction as though I would be doing something daredevilish, like a true renegade, because we all know that we shouldn't be so egotistical, right? It seems that just admitting to having an ego is something that induces a cringing effect in those "others" we so hopelessly aim to please. Throughout life a lot of girls, who had a traditional Catholic upbringing like me, have within their psyche the feeling that if we're just good enough souls, then maybe we will be worthy of love and above all, approval. And within yogic philosophy: anything that distinguishes you from everything and everyone else causes separateness, desire, and pain.

And then there's little 'ole me, sitting alone in the an old, yet comfortable armchair, still wearing my hat and with my feet up on the table, in a quiet room laced with the slightly musty odor signifying the somewhat rundown state of this hotel, can't help but feel (selfishly) satisfied for these ever so fortunate circumstances - to be ALONE, to hear the QUIET, and have the OPPORTUNITY TO DO WHAT I WANT TO DO, without having to take everyone else into consideration - and all I can wonder is, "Is it really so bad to just take care of one's self for a while?"

Or is solitude simply a modern day sin? I vote not.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Report from Clontarf Castle


My mind's been a blank for the past week, a condition that regretfully is becoming more and more common. I don't know if it's because of age, brain overload, or a general lack of lucidity. Right now I am sitting on a bed fit for a queen, suitably enough considering that I am at the moment staying at a castle hotel in Dublin.

I wish I could come up with some incredibly creative and keen observations about my experiences here, albeit brief and extremely limited since I will have no time to explore Ireland, that could act as metaphors to some broader, philosophical truth, but my mental fuel guage is reading empty. So in this neanderthal state, I am able to focus only on my basic needs, and I can only take note of what I am feeling here and now.

Luckily enough, I can honestly say that I am feeling pretty content at the moment. The bed I am in is the most comfortable bed I've ever slept in. The wind is howling as the rain batters against the window. And since the maid had opened my window earlier, my room is filled with a certain dark dampness that seems to fit perfectly in this type of enviroment, allowing my comforter to "comfort" me all the more.

The people I've met since arriving yesterday have been, to use their most common term, "brilliant". I think they would have no problem striking up a conversation with a lamppost. They excuse themselves for crowding even when they're not even close to nudging you, but a word of caution: I saw the customs officer rip into a passenger like a lion simply because she wondered why he was asking her about her studies. Looking back at my own upbringing, their need to maintain a certain level of decorum (great word, huh?) makes me feel right at home.

After a long day of lecturing I am basking in the opportunity to just zone out, space out, and completely relax. And funny enough, I don't even feel the least bit guilty, despite the fact that I am presently in the country that turned otherwise turned Catholic guilt into an art form. So if you don't mind, I am now going to go down to the Knight's Bar so that I can order a pint of Guiness (this coming from a girl who can't even drink an entire beer). Cheers!!

Sunday, January 17, 2010

The (surprise?) party

How connected I feel to my husband at any particular moment varies, and hopefully I am not the only half-of-a-couple that at times wonders, "How did we get here?" It's not my love is erratic. I guess if you compare the outlook (not the strength) of our bonds to the weather, then some days it's sunny with clear skies and 100% visibility, while on other days the fog comes in, and you can't even see the hand in front of your face. I won't even go into what happens when a hurricane hits; I figure you get the picture.

Anyhow, we were invited to a party to celebrate a good friend's successful disputation. Neither P nor I are the partying kind. We weren't even altogether shocked at the realization that the last occasion where we had to "dress up" was my mother-in-law's funeral six years ago. I know; that's pretty bad. But I always feel like a fish out of water any time high heels are required, and I have a hard time hearing what's being said if there's loud music, and I get so tired in the evenings, and I don't know so many people, and if I try to drink some wine then I will end up with a hangover before dessert is even served: I assume you're getting this picture, too? Let's just say I'm more a small gathering with a few good friends, good food, and lots of laughter kind of person - you know, lazy and comfortable...

Going through my closet wondering whatever posessed me to buy 90% of the articles of clothing that laid there gawking at me, I finally found a skirt (given to me by my shopping goddess of a friend) with a top that oddly enough matched perfectly. All I needed to buy was a pair of stockings. Nice. Hubby tried on his pants with jacket and a new button down shirt from Tiger that he had purchased while we were in Florida last month. Gulp - very nice.

My husband was granted the honor to serve as toastmaster for this dinner; it would be the first time he ever did something like this. But as he started to welcome the guests, all of the sudden I was transported 18 ½ years back in time to the first time I heard him speak. Despite his height (6' 4") he stood with his back fully erect, yet his words were so natural and full of warmth and humor that it just hypnotized everyone, especially me. We weren't seated by each other at dinner, but as soon as the music started he pulled me onto the dancefloor, and we danced the only way we know how - slowly. In short, it was an awesome party.

Picture from Google

Saturday, January 16, 2010

My need for santosha

My absence from my blog is usually a pretty good barometer of: a) how little free time I have at the moment and/or b) how little energy I have to do more than I absolutely have to for the moment. Still, there are some advantages to my line of work which entails long hours of driving in my car to and from clients. I have gotten into the habit of listening to CD-books and this week I finally finished off one of the most beautiful books I've ever read(?), "The Story of Norea (Noreas Saga)", by Marianne Fredriksson, the final book from her Children of Paradise trilogy.

Throughout her life the character Norea embraced her innate ability to transcend time and exist in the moment. Since she neither compared her present circumstances to the past nor wondered what life could be like in the future, she was more or less fearless, fearless and free. This got me to start thinking about the yogic principle of santosha, which means contentment. I have always struggled with admitting to others when I have felt content since I've been afraid that that would automatically mean that I would have to settle for that and never get more.

The more I think about that whole "getting more" attitude, the more apparent the negative effects of desire become. Sure, one should strive for development and self-improvement, but most often my desires are linked to my ego, to simply wanting more than I have. And the energy I waste concentrating on what I don't have diminishes my ability to appreciate and embrace that which I do have.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

From optimism to confusion - from anxiety to responsibility - and then some sushi...

That pretty much sums up my week, the first week of 2010. During the first few days I was wrought with jetlag, but at least I was still off from work and surfing on the post-buzz of having spent our Christmas vacation in Florida. So basically I went around in a dazed state of feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. However, the fog in my mind slowly started to thicken after a couple of days, and fatigue started to set in. Random thoughts flashing like lightning bolts began ricocheting through my brain, neither giving me a chance to decipher them nor comprehend any type of coherence.

On Monday it was time to return to work mode, still I was lucky enough to not have to take any business trips. Plus, Wednesday was a holiday. Yet at this point my mind was thick and sticky like syrup, and I felt like I was trapped in one of those dreams where you have to run but you can't move your legs. I felt completely drained. I tried to meditate, but my thoughts, albeit distant, stilled bounced around without offering the least bit of insight. When it was time to go to bed, I had a hard time falling asleep and an even harder time getting up in the morning.

Of course it could very well be that I was still experiencing the aftermath of my jetlag. This being the coldest winter in years wasn't helping. I used to enjoy the contrasts of the seasons, and while I found the winter wonderland-scape to be beautiful, if given a choice between that and the warmth of Southern Florida - well, it would be a no-brainer at this point! What got to me today, though, was that I just couldn't come up with a theme or figure out what kind of yoga class I should put together for this afternoon's class. I surfed the Internet in search of inspiration and ended up pulling out my old notebooks in the hopes of discovering that perfect, a-ha idea.

Nada... In the end I toyed with the idea of repeating an earlier theme, and while I was in the car driving to the gym my ego pleaded with me to ask my group if we could just repeat the flow class from New Year's Eve; I could just explain to them that I was low on energy and just wanted to yoga with them. When we gathered for the introduction of today's class, I immediately rejected that idea. As a teacher, my students rely on me to offer them food for thought and help them on their journeys. As a teacher, I must put my students first, and most often their positive attitude and dedication both energizes and inspires me. (God, they were fantastic tonight!) So after class I ended up rolling out my mat in order to do some yoga on my own in a last attempt to get myself back on track.

Halfway through my flow I received a spur of the moment text message from my husband and laughed out loud as I read the words: "Treat yourself to some sushi." It made me remember that I am loved. And suddenly continuing on wasn't so difficult. Afterwards I heeded his words and enjoyed Kalmar's best sushi and miso soup before returning home.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

I solemnly swear (maybe)...

Am I the only one who feels that the pressure's on to figure out some kind of New Year's resolution? That it's mandatory, because if you DON'T have a New Year's resolution by now, then obviously you aren't willing to further develop and/or improve yourself. Oh, the hubris!

Yet isn't it even worse to have announced to the world that you've decided your New Year's resolution (like giving up your overpriced-calorie-bombs-courtesy-of-Starbucks (right, Patty?!)), only to discover on January 2nd that you really need your drug-of-choice so you tell yourself that one last treat is OK (sort of like me only eating half a chocolate chip cookie), and by January 4th you're like, "What resolution?" before quickly changing the subject.

Isn't life hard enough with so many promises rendered worthless due to the attachment of invisible strings in the form of conditions that can only be found in the fine print? How many people do I trust unreservedly? Can I be trusted? What's the promise of my dreams like? Can I trust that any of them will come true? Am I living up to my own promise, living my life to the fullest? ...offering as much as I can to those dearest to me ? Dare I resolve to do so? At this point I had to go back to this last paragraph and change the subject to all the previous questions from "you" to "I". God, it's hard to turn the mirror towards oneself, sorry, I mean MYSELF.

So basically I'm right back where I started - do I make a resolution or not?

If I do make a resolution, then I want nothing short of me having to be hooked up to life support to stop me from achieving my goals. With that said, all I need to know is what my goals are. Just one problem: I have no freaking idea what my goals are.

Great, I've just turned 40, and it's dawned on me that I have no idea what my goals are... My thirties consisted of me starting a family, taking charge of my career, and developing my interests. I am, to say the least, pleased with the results - Hell, I'm thrilled with the abundance my life has brought me! But my thirties are over, and I'm thinking perhaps my new era needs a new sense of direction.

So my New Year's resolution for 2010 is: figure out whatever it is I should resolve to do with my life from this point forward!

Picture from Google

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Airing of grievances...

I realize that I just wrote in my last entry that I can only look ahead, but, hey, that was like two days ago; things change, right?

So here goes: Damn, that yoga (written with a healthy dose of sarcasm and just a pinch of candor)! Leave it to a session on the mat to jumpstart the process of peeling layers, opening up, digging deep, stripping defences, and removing veils. Left is emptiness, all save that black clump lodged in between my stomach and heart, the place that I imagine inhabits, among other things, my soul.

OK, once again, I get carried away with the melodramatics, but if it's (almost) Festivus, then it's (almost) Festivus. That, and when my mind quiets, and my body's been worn out physically, I can sense a feeling of dark emptiness within the clean emptiness that otherwise replaces the regular bustle of everyday thoughts and actions. It's like all the insecurities from my past, all my misconceptions, all the times I felt I was either in the wrong or wronged, past hurts, feelings of wishing I had done things differently, they resurface longing to be set free.

In my favorite book, "Eat, Pray, Love", the author describes a couple of accounts where she cleanses her soul and mind of her own mental baggage through meditation. At one point she even experiences pure bliss. I wonder what that must be like? How much lighter would my step be? How much more energy would I have? How fewer sighs would I release?

No sadness here, just thoughts from the heart. The baggage has been around for so long, it's like second nature. I've made some progress throughout the years. I haven't gotten rid of my load, but for the most part at least I have wheels on my luggage, so it's not as hard to pull it along to wherever it is I'm going. Still, it would be nice if I could get the light to some day reach all the way through to my core; then maybe I could air my grievances and be free of them once and for all.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

A new year, a clean slate...


Jetlag has me up at 1:30 A.M. this January morning. The fireworks from last night have been replaced by a soft blanket of snow, and the silence is only broken by the sound of tangent keys being pressed as I write. Up until now I haven't reflected much about the fact that we have now all entered a new decennium, but with me being a child born in the final breaths of the sixites, I realize that every new, decennial transition marks the next age-oriented phase in my life: the past decennium represented my 30's while the 2010's are going to mark my 40's. When 2019 draws to a close, I will be turning 50.......

OK - no need to get depressed (!); on the contrary I have noticed that for the past couple days I have for some reason felt a sense of warm optimism. I am feeling the same kind of anticipation I felt every year on the first day of school when everything was new from the clothes I wore to the teacher and classmates I would receive; it was just as exciting every year. The past week P and I have discussed (as much as one can when the kids are around constantly demanding our undivided attention 24/7) what changes we may or may not choose to make in our lives. At any rate, we both seem to have come to the realization that time is ticking, and life offers no guarantees. And while we can do our best to make informed decisions, at some point we have to take risks if there ever is going to be a "some day". Maybe it's time for some transformation? or perhaps a change of climate??

I am also curious as to what lies ahead in my career. The past few months I have been reflecting on what route I need to take: the "forward-march" in my career so that we can afford to live the life we desire for us and our children (in the hopes that all desire doesn't have to be o-yogic desire), or is it soon time for me to live more simply so that I can search for more soulful riches?

In one of the books that changed my life, "A Simple Abundance", the author opens by explaining that in the beginning of our journey one is not expected to have any answers; it is however a good time to start asking the questions. Maybe I should be looking back at the year that has past, but for whatever reason I can only look forward from where I am right now at the moment. The slate has been cleaned, and I hope and pray that the 2010's will be the decennium I gravitate even more towards my authentic self.