Changed my mind

This morning I made my regular three hour drive to a client, using the time as I often do to write blog entries in my head. I was planning on taking a dare and writing about a seemingly provocative subject (although anything I write usually only has to do with me, and when I write I only speak for myself). Still, there was a pretty good chance that certain people, friends even, would be taken aback.

Then as my day progressed, I felt that I was just receiving one complaint after another. Complaints that were somewhat justified, yet petty enough that I felt compelled to offer a different point of view. Even though I've improved greatly throughout the years when it comes to expressing my opinions, especially when they're not shared by the recipient, it still takes a lot out of me.

So when I finally made it to my hotel, the merciful sanctuary that my yoga mat offered was greatly welcomed. And when I was done, I didn't feel like being self-righteous anymore.

Freedom and farting noises

As part of my Saturday decompression I am presently sitting on my couch, checking my FB and e-mails. In the background my son and his friend are sprawled out on the floor on the other side of the living room. They're in the midst of creating a fantasy world on paper, filled with unique vehicles, armies, weapons, along with an added touch of sound effects in the form of constant farting noises.

Their tongues and pencils move individually in constant motion without hesitation. Yet the two of them seem to be in complete harmony, perfectly synchronized, and totally oblivious to the three dimensional world beyond their IKEA paper-roll.

They've been at it non-stop for 50 minutes. They've just added a restroom to their building (even warriors need to use the bathroom), and now they're talking about sending their picture to The Guiness Book of Records.

I'm still trying to wake up, despite the fact that I've been up for two hours. My mind is still clouded, I'm in my pajamas, and my caffeine fix hasn't really had any measurable effect. I watch in dazed fascination as they unroll another meter's length of paper seeing as their hands can barely keep up with their imagination.

I have yet to hear them utter the words "no", "can't", or "shouldn't".

All I'm hearing, over and over again, is "Yes!", followed by a fart.

Wake me when it's Monday

I have a confession to make.

I suck at weekends.

When I'm in work mode, I am so much better at sucking it up, keeping it together, getting a move on, making it through the day so that I can bring home the bacon. On the weekends, I pretty much break down. But not in the way that I am lying in bed and recharging my batteries. Nope - I'm up early, getting the breakfast made while trying to figure out the logistics of the weekend.

What I want and wish for every weekend is a chance to work out and time to clean. That's usually not how it goes. It's easy to get caught up in seeing to that everyone else gets done whatever it is they need to get done first - after all, I can work out "anytime", and the cleaning "isn't going anywhere; it'll still be there..." The problem is that by the end of the day when it's MY turn, my MOJO is running on empty.

And it's gotten to the point where I don't even enjoy weekends anymore because they're characterized by anxiety, frustration, stress, and in the end, apathy. I would almost prefer just being allowed an extra hour's sleep in the morning, 7:30 would be perfect, then the rest of my day could continue on like a regular work day.

Because at least then I'd feel like I'm getting something accomplished.

And justice for ME!

If holding a grudge were an Olympic competition, then I would have more gold than Fort Knox. Sometimes it gets so bad that my ego voice (the one symbolized by a little devil on my shoulder) doesn't even register that in the real world millions have just been devastated by earthquakes and tsunamis; maybe being interrupted isn't quite as dire a situation?

no-no-NO... Little devil reminds my ego that this is just ONE of the many times I have been WRONGED! Then he proceeds to open in my mind a Pandora's Box of all wrongs past. And no good intention in the universe from angel-on-my-other-shoulder can diminish the dark shadows from hurtful memories.

I can almost see the little devil rubbing his knobby, little hands, as he thinks to himself, "Yes! I'll have won yet another weekend of misery, just you wait!" This being my first thought when I drowsily open my eyes this morning and am instantly reminded of yesterday's bad mood.

Then out of nowhere, Pride and Self-dignity step in like two, cool superheroes. They point out the obvious, which is that all these thoughts are disgustingly pathetic, and I should just get over it. Now let's get on with my life, shall we?

Prayers and thoughts to all who were affected by the tragedies of yesterday.

Thoughts about time and money

We talk about "making time" and "taking time" pretty much the same way we talk about "making money" or "making withdrawals" (as a way of taking money).

Tonight being case and point: I have put off for days now sitting down with my blog, and finally my yearning has gotten the best of me. Instead of doing the dishes, I am staying put on my couch until I get an entry done. Not that I even have a ready subject in my head... But hey, it's not like I need to buy anything in particular as an excuse to allow myself to go shopping, right? The same way spending money on a new top offers a nice, little high, just telling myself that I can take the time to blog, in spite of the pile of dirty dishes stacked in the kitchen, puts a smile on my face.

At night when the hamster wheel of thoughts goes spinning in my mind, I am probably fantasizing as much about having more time as I am about having more money. I can't honestly say that one is more vital to me than the other. Sure, if I were a real yogi, I would argue that material things are mere symbols of pain-inducing desire, while more time would allow me the opportunity to connect with my divine self. But even tantric philosophy encourages seeing beauty and divinity in all things, and I would be lying if I didn't admit to enjoying certain luxuries...such as finding a bargain on designer clothes, drinking the perfect latte, staying at nice hotels while travelling, etc.

I've tried more and more to curb my desire to shop and replace it with more meaningful activities such as working out, meditating, reading, blogging, or just plain doing nothing. And sure, I'll buy that I am probably more likely to connect with myself while delving in creative types of hobbies, but I must confess that I am still in the process of trying to get ahead. It's not even about winning the lottery; it's always that little bit extra I'm striving for; the same one that inherently has me longing for the level after that, and the next one, and the next one.

Fortunately for me, it's not all about paychecks and side jobs. I'm lucky to actually feel passionate about what I do, whether it's teaching aspiring yogis to realize their potential or to help OT's find a suitable seating solution that benefits their patients. I work hard, and I have yet to feel that I've reached my own full potential, so I keep on trying to develop and deepen my skills.

In order to get anywhere with my endeavors, I have to invest a lot of time: early mornings, long days, nights away from home. I use the money I make to make the most of the time that is left. Paying to learn yoga is one example of using money to find a way to stay in shape physically, mentally, and spiritually while on the road (both literally and figuratively).

When calculating my combination of these two sources of currencies, time and money, I find the bottom line is that I am able to rejoice in the blessings I've acquired within my home and family. That being said, I figure the value of my life as a whole is really paying off.

Cocooned

My own made-up word - cocooned. That's where I've been hanging. I've had to go inside myself, closing myself off from my social world, in order to keep myself in motion. I've had to prioritize: family, work, yoga, home, and there's been neither space nor energy for anything more.

Tonight, I finally feel that I can enjoy the luxury of simply being. At a hotel yet again, but I am more relaxed than I've felt in quite some time. Not that I've suffered, but gosh, nothing goes up against having time to do whatever it is I feel like doing.

My son greeted me this past Tuesday with a cheerful "Happy March 1st!" I couldn't have said it better myself. In Southern Sweden where I spend my workdays, the snow has completely melted. Brown, earthy fields bordered by leafless, brown trees are, for me, a breathtakingly beautiful sight for sore eyes this year. I welcome the return of daylight like a long, lost friend.

While I think I'm past turning into a beautiful butterfly, I'm more than happy to crawl out of my cocoon to once again greet my friends and with my heart and soul welcome the coming of spring once more.