Even more 'Jo' to my world....

I was late, but gratefully P offered to park the car so that I could run up to our room and quickly change before rushing over to the fitness center for an afternoon Pilates class. Even though it was ready 4:05, when I got there I could see through the plate glass windows that they hadn't even started. I could also see that there were only three older women in there so I paused, but the oldest one spotted me. With her vanilla-colored hair, handsome wrinkles, and bright pastel-blue eyeshadow, she opened the door and said with a genuine New York accent, "Honey, you want to take a Pilates class?" Like, what am I supposed to say? I quickly closed my mouth and put a smile on and said, "Sure!" She answered, "OK, go in the locker room and get a big towel; these mats are so dirty." I did as I was told.

After that, it only took seconds for me to be completely sold by my 74-year-old Pilates teacher, Jo. She was one of the best instructors I had ever come across, the kind of instructor I aspire to become. We were 4 ladies total with me being the youngest by at least 15-20 years. Still everyone was at a different training level, yet Jo had all of us under her radar. Her instructions were clear, and I love how she incorporated a "breathe in through the nose, and out through the mouth" in between each exercise. She got up and offered feedback and encouragement to each participant and was quick to note that doing the corkscrew move was a good preparation to opening a bottle of wine that evening. For the next hour I had a silly smile on my lips the entire time. When was the last time you had a silly smile on your lips throughout an entire workout?

At the end of class, she pointed out her girlfriend who was wearing a pair of telltale white, sight-impaired glasses as she started up the treadmill. "That's my girlfriend, Edna," she said, "Yeah, she's here every day. She's 87." Then she proceeded to finish our class by reading an inspirational quote since we were now done "training our core, and it was time to train the core of our mind."

Respect.

Joy to MY world...

At the risk of seeming egotistical...I am so in seventh heaven in that chilled out, hazy-eyed, shoulders-finally-closer-to-hips-than-ears sort of way. Just to prove how laidback we are at the moment, today was marked by my husband's and my ability to for once just be spontaneous as we let the day unfold without following any sort of schedule. We never just let the day unfold. Usually P and I will sit and plan out the following day down to the hour before going to bed the night before.

Today we all woke up at 5:30 A.M. (thank you, jetlag). By 9 A.M. P had already been to the gym, and we were out the door headed towards the beach. The temperature in the Atlantic is the warmest I've ever felt. After swimming for a couple of hours, we headed in search of lunch and bought Chinese food at the first place we could find. Then we just continued on down A1A towards Ft. Lauderdale. Suddenly we turned right to get a closer look at some of the enormous yachts when it dawned on me that we could take a water taxi to do some sightseeing. Very unlike me - first, me do something on a whim?! That costs money without creating a budget?!!! Not possible.

But that's exactly what we did - for the following two hours we basked in the sun's warm rays, the soft ocean breeze, as we gazed open-mouthed at the breathtaking tokens of insane affluence that line the serpentine river all the way to Ft. Lauderdale's downtown. What struck me as funny was some of the names on these boats (ships?) that dwarfed our own home back in Ljungbyholm, things like: Tranquility and My Bliss... Even though we're supposed to be able to create everlasting joy within ourselves, apparently I'm not the only one who finds it easier to be harmonious when one is fortunate enought to be able to treat oneself to some relaxing in the sun.

Now if you don't mind, there's a quiet balcony in the dark just waiting for me so that I can listen to the symphony of crickets and bristling palm leaves.

Been where? Done what?

My day of reckoning has soon passed, in 15 minutes to be exact (in my time zone, that is). Perhaps I have not agonized about turning 40, but I can admit that the thought hasn't exactly offered much in the form of comfort. Up until now, I've never minded growing older; I've even enjoyed the feeling of becoming more mature and gaining more stature for each passing year. That's all changed now.

Change is however inevitable, the yogis teach, and nothing in this life is permanent - NOTHING. So it's up to me to deal with it since hiding under the covers (my first reflex) won't do anything to stop the hands of time. Questions arise that I have yet to answer, if I ever figure out how to answer them at all: Where have I been? What have I accomplished? Where am I now? Is this where I should be? Where am I headed? Is this the right direction?

Last night, I woke up at 2 A.M., and realized that my thirties were now over - no turning back. I tossed and turned and gave up long before my alarm clock rang. I wasn't upset or depressed; I was mainly uncertain (and still am) as to what I was (am) feeling about this latest milestone. On the other hand, some things I do know for sure: nothing beats having your family celebrate you on your big day. My breakfast never tasted better, and seeing the excitement in my kids' eyes as I opened their presents was about as good as presents can get!

What shocked me, though, was opening my present from P. It must be love when someone knows you better than you know yourself. He has unbeknownst to me signed me up for a week long painting/meditation course by the sea on Öland this coming summer. I would never have dared to do that myself - as much as I would love to learn how to paint, I would be too afraid to try something this cool mainly because I fear doing anything I suck at. I was speechless; then my throat got knotted as tears filled my eyes.

It was the best present imaginable. I am so freaking lucky. I may not be sure of where I've been of what I've done, but at least I know that in July of 2010, I will be sitting by the sea doing something I've only dreamed of so far. Me like.

Pictures from Google

The laugh factor

After a crappy day (which I knew was going to be crappy) I came home, stressed like a maniac, and was pretty much a walking tropical storm until the kids got to bed. My mood was so tangible that even my husband backed down when I more or less dared him to provoke me...that's saying a lot. OK, OK, I am being pretty melodramatic here, but this week has been more than a handful. I am trying to cram three weeks of work into one before going on vacation next week.

What I didn't realize was just how stressed out and strained I was until I saw a cheezy tv commercial for a supermarket chain guest starring Jamie Oliver. Suddenly I was laughing out loud. I couldn't believe how good it felt.


Note to self: must laugh more often.

Here's the commercial:

Prescription for stress relief...

...even if it's only a temporary escape.

Do yoga using a flow you're well familiar with so you don't have to think too much.

Put on some Asian spa background music - the cheesier, the better.

Dim the lights and light a few candles.

Face something that will make drishti effortless. For me it was the yin-yang window.

For each move take an extra breath while moving as slowly as possible.

Concentrate on the complete stillness that naturally arises in the pause between inhalation and exhalation.

DO NOT attempt strengthening challenges or demanding backbends; focus rather on the releasing effects of forward folds and twists.

Use as many props as you like.

Think as little as possible.

Afterwards, lie yourself down alone in the sauna with water and clementines.

Pictures from Google

Sorry...

I know I shouldn't be apologizing, so let me start by saying, "Sorry." It's not like I feel as though I've necessarily done anything wrong; I just feel that I'm sorry:

- sorry for being so rusty when I taught Body Balance tonight.
- sorry for not being able to perform at my regular level since being put out of commission 3½ weeks ago.
- sorry for coming home too late to read comic books to my son.
- sorry that my son feels crushed that he'll be missing a b-day party since that's our travel date.
- sorry for not blogging, e-mailing, fb-ing or doing anything else of a social nature as of late.
- sorry for not getting any laundry done this week.
- sorry for not having hung up the Xmas lights outside.
- sorry for not being Maria Von Trapp in the morning when I have to be on the road by 6:30 A.M.
- sorry for only managing two out of three:
* Bring home the bacon (it's already in the fridge)
* Fry it up in pan (no problem)
* Never let you forget you're a man (how about some coffee with that bacon instead...?)