something better

What could possibly be better than the OmSwing? (I really should get paid for all of these gratuitious OS posts…) I’ll tell ya what could be better —

Yogi Jamie.

Drew and I worked the front desk at The Dog last night (best job on the planet), and had the joy of flying with Jamie. Jamie teaches the last class of the night. He came out during the closing savasana for a prop and Drew was in the hallway so in she went to do “angel pose” with the class. She came out so happy to be included and I told her “Jamie flies people!” I flew her a bit and then she was too intimidated to fly with Jamie, so I jumped on his feet for a bit of aerial, therapeutic yoga.

OMG. What could be better than the OmSwing? Hanging like a bat while somebody else tractions your body in every direction and gives you thai massage at the same time. Ah, it felt so damn good. I’m afraid I made Jamie late for the airport, but it was definitely worth it.

Stay tune, we’re running a 3-part series on partner, aerial and therapeutic yoga with Jamie in October. Can’t wait!

Here he is in the park with a girl he met 30-seconds before. Jamie used his now-famous pick up line: “Hey, ya wanna fly?” If he uses it on you, trust him and say yes!

Ahhh

Lisa and I are spending a week at her parents house in Dana Point. This is the view from their kitchen:

So yes, I’m in heaven. We answer e-mails, go to yoga class, and hit the beach, feed the kids and go swimming at the neighborhood pool. Plenty of chocolate in the house, plenty of sand and sunshine. Heaven on earth.

Yesterday I went to Yoga works down the street and took “Power Yoga” with Geo. Lisa sent me off and said, “you’ve got to take class with Geo – he’s crazy!” She then added that she took class with him before she was the yoga master she now is – and she isn’t sure if he really is any good! So off I went. I thought, Geo sounded like a Pokemon character, what could be more fun than taking class from a pokemon-yogi? Geo didn’t disappoint. He’s a bit silly, and has a white afro and a very gentle way about him. He is fun, the Yoga Works studio is charming and the students were friendly. There was a lot of movement versus static poses – and that felt great. We did about 100 chatarunga push-ups, and you know how I love my push-ups.  His music was fun and I really enjoyed it. Nothing like hitting the beach after that kind of a good detox sweat.

I did notice a couple of things though. In comparison, I have to say that the students at Cosmic Dog have rockin’ form. Whenever I travel to other studios, I notice that many of the “advanced” classes include a lot of students who are there for the ego-trip of being advanced, whatever that means. Hence, they never really learn wise form and/or technique because of the pace of the advanced classes, or power label. I’m proud of what the teachers are doing at The Dog – it’s good, safe, effective yoga. We’re blessed. The other thing I noticed about the students there is that they chat during class. Seriously, during savasana, they tell the teacher, “you’re looking very fit!” and he tells them his latest eating regimen. Strange….. fun… but strange!

Climbing

Years ago, I read an article in the local paper about a woman who had run a marathon. She was a senior and if I remember correctly, she was in her 80’s. The race officiators extended the time limit of the race because she was determined to finish. The interview she gave the paper included a quote from her that I think of almost daily. She said, “Nothing could be easier than putting one foot in front of the other.”

I almost canceled the nature retreat I was leading yesterday. Only a few people had signd up, and I knew that preparing for it was going to be time consuming – and time is the one resource I just don’t have right now. I had already spent 3 hiking days looking for a good open, safe spot for the yoga portion of the retreat and couldn’t find anything that wasn’t crowded, full of poison oak, or hot and sunny. A little voice inside of me though, told me to hold it anyway. Then, my doctor told me to as well.

You know you’re not making things up when you explain where you’re at to your GP and she nods along and looks like she wants to give you a hug. My doctor was a great listener and I was reassured that she wasn’t just a meds only kind of doctor. We talked about where I was with my depression, and she said that the therapy, the yoga, the meditation, the stress-management was going along just as she would suggest. So here I am once more,  back on meds for a while.

Why is it so hard to talk about? So hard admit? I know where I’m at – I’ve been here before and I want to nip this in the bud before I digress too far. I’m not embarrassed to ask for help, or admit that I need it. Still, it would be dishonest not to admit that there’s a little part of me that feels like, “is there anything I can master? I’ve done this before, why am I back here? Why isn’t all of the management working?” There is definitely a part of me that is disappointed in myself for not being more of an optimist. And somewhere lurking down deep is the thought that I am supposed to be the teacher. Even though my conscious mind knows I am the eternal student, the tangible ego-ic world is quick to remind me that I should be the master. After all, I’ve helped many people through this before. I’ve managed my state of mind without medication for several years now.

I know how ridiculous that sounds. I know that I am one of the most positive people on the planet  most of the time. The big truth for me though, is that everything really is impermanent, and for me it’s humbling to note that nothing is more impermanent than my own state of mind.

I’m dealing with the internal and I’ve become pretty good at that. Dealing with the external was something I’ve learned to manage through boundaries and saying NO to doing too much. So here I am realizing that if I want to keep my life as dream-filled as it is, I have to do more than is ideal for me personally. That means that there is a lot more stimulus going on both externally and internally, more than I can keep up with.  Being mindful and accepting is really helping.

I say it to my students so much it’s become a joke. “Suffering is optional”. So this time around, as I notice that it’s really hard to make it through a day without yelling at someone, composing myself and apologizing, or I’m just not sleeping because I’m anxiously running over all of the things that need to be done, or I’ve just lost that desire to do anything – I know it’s time for help. I’m not going to suffer this time until my family is suffering with me. So, I’m trying a new medication called Pristiq. (I’m very skeptical of the name… terrible name!) As with most depression meds, there is an adjustment period. So for the next couple of weeks I’m dealing with a bit of nausea, being tired, and shaky hand syndrone. Kind of like being pregnant again. But, it’s all good – I feel like I’m climbing out of the hole again except this time it’s not scarry or overwhelming. It’s just is what it is.

Yesterday, the retreat was amazing, simply amazing. The six of us rolled out our mats on a wide stretch of cleared and packed trail. We were next to a creek-bed and huge trees wove overhead providing shade. I spoke as little as possible so that rather than worrying on form, we could move organically into our own natural expression of being. The birds chirped, the breeze sung through the branches of the trees, our drishti was a leaf, the spiders crawled around our mats and our feet rooted right down into the earth. Sirsasana (headstand) and Urdhva Dhanurasana (backbend) gave me a liberating new view of my world upside down with blue skies peaking though the branches of the big oaks. Those sirsana feet were reminded to reach up into the clouds just like the trees. It was downright magical.

Nobody cared that we had to shift plans slightly or that we started out a bit late. We all shared food and climbed through the beautiful foothills and canyons of Mt. Diablo, really enjoying a real connection with each other. I enjoyed listening to my friends and getting to know them better.  For a whole morning, I forgot how tired I was, and how I couldn’t keep myself from shaking during yoga and how I almost wanted to throw up, or about what I needed to do next or where I needed to be on time.  I felt so grateful to live in such a gorgeous world. We climbed up the last steep hill and it was so effortless for me.

Climbing out of this hole of anxiety and depression feels good.  There’s no fear or despair this time, just acceptance of where I’m at. Nothing is easier than just putting one foot ahead of the other.

me too!

Check out Drew’s Upa! It’s probably not a yogic thing to be jealous of your 4-year old, but check out that range of motion.

Today we were walking into preschool with her friends Sabina and Tony. They were all running to the door and Drew was straggling. I caught up to her while she sat on the stairs catching her breath. “Mom – my legs are BORED.”

Yep, me too. Maybe I can use this line on Dan, the personal trainer next week. Although, I don’t think I have the right to complain to him ever again after he gave me the news this week that I am not eating enough. That’s right, you’re reading correctly, I’m not eating enough. Maybe there IS a god after all. And, let’s say she like chocolate. I SO know already how I’m using those new-found calories. You are officially sworn to secrecy.

Do what you love

Seriously, what could be better than combining yoga and photography? I spent yesterday playing at the studio with Jamie and friends to help him create images for his upcoming book on Partner Yoga. Too much fun.

This is Jenny. She teaches at HotBox – and she is FIERCE.  Or maybe this is Karen, she’s about to immerse herself in teacher training in SF – I can’t tell them apart when they’re upside down!

Move over Anne Geddes…

OK now folks, no more comments about how “interesting” the photos are. A little maturity please!

Cock-a-doodle-doo

I never really understand those people who decide which way to vote on the morning of the election. Until now. I just keep wavering on Prop 2. I’ve done a fair amount of research and I’m really torn.
Years ago, pregnant for the first time, I did all of the research about natural childbirth, and the statistics involved with intervention versus natural labor. I was adamant that natural was the only way to go. I was judgmental and opinionated. Then, I gave birth! I clung to my principles and managed to go natural (with a lot of support from my good friend Julie M) and had two more babies sans medication.  After pain like that, I will never pass judgment on anyone choosing the ever popular epidural. I get it.
Same with meat. I’ve committed. No meat for me. This process isn’t easy, but I’m not making that decision for anyone else. I’m also fascinated with the book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, the local food movement, and just generally exploring alternative relationships with my food and all things holistic.
Within the last few days, as my mind has been wandering around these issues, I found Emily’s blog. Emily is Lisa’s BFF and I enjoy my friendship by association with her. All of Lisa’s friends are super-fascinating, and Emily is no exception. So, below I stole one of her great posts for your reading enjoyment. It seems to me that we could all use a little introspection into what we’re eating, where it comes from, and more personal involvement with it. Emily is a great example of this. I don’t know what I’m most impressed with, Emily’s honesty, her sense of adventure, or the fact that she killed, plucked, gutted and butchered 10 roosters while her husband was gone. She also documented and wrote about it. You go girl. I hope you enjoyed your rooster dinner – you certainly deserve it.

Meat II: Eating My Words

Our first backyard ‘rooster’ dinner.

So, in a previous post I exposed my sentiments of, what Dustin and I like to call, skeptical environmentalism. In other words we are environmental because it’s practical. It makes sense that you should eat meat that comes from one animal and is raised in your backyard. Just as it makes sense to use “real” plates, instead of paper, because you have a dishwasher and paper plates cost money. So, to eat my words we bought half of the neighbor’s steer and to further make my point (and to get rid of half of the enormous monthly chicken feed bill) we slaughtered a dozen of our chickens (all roosters) on Saturday. It was, to say the least, an amazing experience. Katrina, the famous localvore blogger of Kale for Sale, came to join in the fun. I was grateful for her presence because she did bring a sense of order to the whole operation that Jeremy and I would have probably botched. Dustin suddenly had to “work” and so I was left to oversee operations on my own. The little kids were always near and interested, but not totally aware of what we were doing exactly, except that it must be fun because we were adults and seemed to be ‘playing.’

We started off with a prayer. It somehow seemed appropriate as we were about to extinguish living beings. I prayed that we were grateful for this experience, for the chickens who would provide sustenance, and very grateful that we didn’t necessarily have to rely on this as our only options for meat (read: COSTCO). I truly felt like Ma, only lacking an apron and a bonnet. Jeremy was the non-contested self-appointed chicken killer and did a great job. This time he held onto the chickens until they stopped moving…this was much less dramatic than watching them flip around without a head. We then blanched them in some almost boiling soapy water and Katrina and I began plucking. Whew, what a job. Nobody was kidding when they said that it’s time consuming to pluck a chicken. I was REALLY glad that Katrina was there then. She was great and even had a system to the plucking madness. The plucking was done in the heat of midday with our backs scrunched, most uncomfortably, over a plywood table. We had a great time visiting as we worked and Jane was good to help out. She really wanted to pluck her own chicken.

Here are the chickens–plucked but not yet gutted.

After all twelve of the chickens were plucked we began the cleaning and gutting process. I was a little nervous about this part, I haven’t opened up any kind of animal since the crayfish in seventh grade. Jeremy began with a tutorial and showed us how to cut the chicken open to pull out poop (by far the worst part), intestines, stomach, liver, heart, esophagus, to finish by scraping and cleaning any other residue that was left. At the end, they were looking like true “freezer” chickens. Katrina delved right in and was marvelous…I followed and soon began to like this process. It was kind of fun to be able to recognize the organs by touch as you’re pulling them out. Katrina and I had an easier time because our hands were smaller to get into the chicken. We then bagged and froze them. It was an exhausting, yet rewarding day.

So, I decided that we should eat a few of them for Sunday dinner. I made a brine of salt and water and let two chickens soak in it overnight. The next day Lily and I went out to the barn with some red potatoes, carrots, and red onions drizzled in olive oil and ranch seasoning. We stuffed the chickens with onions, rubbed butter all over them and sprinkled with salt and pepper. We placed the chickens on top of the potatoes and roasted them for almost two hours, rotating positions every 30 minutes. The barn smelled delicious and…the chicken was the BEST I’ve ever tasted. It just fell off the bones, was so tender and flavorful. I was so glad that, after all that work, the chicken wasn’t disgusting. We are definitely going to have roast chicken for Thanksgiving and you’re all invited. So far my experiment with eating meat out of my backyard has been successful. I’ll let you know how our first steer steak turns out.

Dustin got home just in time to see the chicken neatly lined up in the freezer, the kitchen scrubbed and disinfected, and all bloody remains carefully buried in the back. He only participated in the eating…I feel a bit like the “little red hen.”

The vegetables were delicious cooked under the chicken. The chicken drippings added so much taste.

The chickens prepped and ready.

Lily, rolling up her sleeves. She was a great helper. This is her stuffing the chickens with onions.

POSTED BY EMILY AT 12:48 PM

LABELS: CHICKENS

talent among us

Our yoga friend Amy is releasing her first spoken word CD. She has some interesting projects on her website, check it out: www.anamyofone.com 

Livermore evolves

Our yoga friend Sandy Gutierrez has transformed the old firehouse on First Street into a beautiful bistro-bookstore. It’s right across from the new theatres and it’s called Firehouse Books and Bistro. I took my seven-year old out on a date yesterday for lunch; he had the mac ‘n cheese and I had the veggie-grilled sandwich. Yum! The place is beautiful, the food is great and you get to read while you’re there. What more could you ask for? If you’re looking to try something new, stop by, grab a bite, and give our friend Sandy a big yoga hug.

Halt!

Wow. I really needed the night off. Thank you for all of your kind e-mails as I shuffle things around in an attempt to take care of myself. Your understanding and support mean a lot to me.

For me, being sleep deprived means being very raw. It sounds rough, but throughout the last week, I’ve often found it a beautiful thing. I cuddled up in bed with a good book and realized it has been far too long since I was quiet and still.

Today marks the end of my 108 days of yoga. I did it. What an amazing experience to really be committed. Interestingly, it didn’t change that much for me. The biggest benefit was that I kept my committment to really live my yoga in the forefront of my mind. That was the biggest transformation.

After I gave birth to Drew, my wise yoga-teaching friend, Carol Atkinson came over to visit and see the baby. She brought gifts and a little bit of wisdom. Carol is old enough to be my own mother, she has raised two beautiful children of her own and has had a big influence on the yoga community of Livermore. I remember as I was feeling so post-partum and a bit frustrated and she said, “Oh Laurie, the beauty of yoga is that there is always something new right around the corner. You will never grow out of it.”

I’m reminded of her words tonight as I enter this new phase of life. It’s been one year since I started working for Be Well. That project ended quite differently than I planned and so has my whole life situation! I’m left in this beautiful space of open possibilities and rebirth. It has been humbling, disorienting and powerful all at the same time.

As I end these long, challenging 108 days of consecutive yoga, feeling tired and physically drained, I am immediately propelled forward. It’s just like kapala-bhati breathing technique… the inhale is coming without any effort.

I feel compelled to keep learning about yoga, truth, spirituality, energy and transformation. I fight the urge to leave my life, shave my head and put on the metaphorical orange robe, so I do the only responsible thing I know how. Jump back in and provide a structure for the swirling spirituality that is too fluid to hold.

So here I go, committing to 30-days of meditation practice for the month of November. Anyone with me?