A Pause is not a Stop

So yesterday didn't go off, yoga-wise. I got up (almost) when intended, but when I got outside, I realized the grass was actually too wet to do yoga without a mat that early in the morning, so I brought my practice inside where I quickly remembered that I must use a mat inside. By that point, The Man was coming down, time was getting short (I worked yesterday), and I also felt hungry, so I aborted until after work, which would have been fine, really, except that I didn't realize I was working until 1:30, not 11:30. So after six and a half hours of wrangling special needs kids and getting home during the hottest part of the day, yoga just didn't happen.

And that's okay. Lesson number one for starting a new habit is believing that missing one time doesn't "ruin" anything or mean that you've failed, or that you have to start over. Of course, with anything physical too big a break does mean you'll have to go back a few steps, but that's okay too. It's all about the process. And not giving up.

Today, even though things didn't go off quite as planned schedule-wise, I did my practice. I'm concerned about making my morning practice work with having a "real" job (I came in and sat down at the computer to blog immediately post practice, long after I would have been at work), but that will come with time and...practice (see what I did there?). I'm also concerned about convincing myself to do sun salutations before the sun is up (I'm a pedant...sue me). Right now, that's generally fine, I could work my morning schedule around Lugh's appearance, but what about in the fall and winter? On days when I have to be at work at 7:30 and sunrise is at 7:28 practicing at/after sunrise isn't going to happen. I think I just need to get over that one.

Doing four rounds of Surya Namaskara felt about the same fatigue/effort-wise as doing two. Laying in Savasana I felt like my heart rate actually returned to normal a bit more quickly, although trying to keep my mind still whilst three flies buzzed around me in what sounded like quite the mating frenzy was difficult. I am rather excited to do my six tomorrow and see how it feels.

I also need to look at an evening practice... But enough speculating, my intention for my practice today was productivity. Time to go make that happen.

Namaste'

Sharing my Yoga Journey

I have done yoga sporadically for at least 15 years. You know how there are those things in life that you deeply enjoy when you are actively doing them, but somehow when you fall out of the habit, you dread getting back into it? Yoga is like that for me. I think (like many things in my life) I have some fear/anxiety wrapped up in it. Someday I'll figure out just where that comes from.

I do classes at a wonderful, accepting studio in Arvada. No matter how long I go between classes, they are always happy to see me back. I am not the only curvy yogini there, which I also love. The instructors are lovely and always willing to help with accommodations.

But...right now it is summer, therefore I am poor. :-) I have two or three classes left on my "punch" card, but I know that there may not be another until October, so I am hoarding those last few classes. I also know that I am happier and healthier when I practice, so...completely against my nature...I am actually starting a home practice. And I'm blogging about it to give myself incentive to actually keep on track.

I am a great starter, but a terrible finisher (hello fellow Aries...you know what I'm talking about, don't you?). That is why I love having classes to go to and love having a buddy to go with even more. It keeps me honest. You, my fellow netizens, get to be my yoga buddies and help keep me honest with continuing my practice.

Today I started doing Surya Namaskasra (Sun Salutation) in the mornings. I started with two (since any flow that doesn't itself repeat poses should be repeated leading with the opposite side of the body). Tomorrow, I plan to do four. Assuming that goes well, I will continue to add on by twos until I am struggling to finish my series, then I'll stick there until I can complete the series with ease. I haven't decided how long I want to go. Realistically, I think I need to also set a time limit based on reasonable expectations of getting my morning routine done once I'm back to work in the fall. I suppose the piece will come naturally once I have to be somewhere by some specific time.

Another thing about this new phase of my practice...I'm doing it outside. At the moment, our house backs onto an open space (we have the option to fence our very little piece of heaven at some point in the future). Practicing outside is what I want and need for the spiritual part of my practice whenever possible. I need the sun on my body and the ground under my feet. It also means that any neighbor who happens to look, shoot anyone who glances out of their car on the nearby street at the right time, can see me in all my fluffy glory doing yoga in my yard. Does this make me nervous? You bet. Am I doing it anyway. You bet.

Today was good...and hard... I didn't get out there until almost 9am (which clearly won't work when I'm working). Tomorrow, I think I'll get up with The Man (at 5am) and skip down and do my practice while he's showering.

It's all a process, right?

Namaste'.

A Hole in my Heart

My son is moving away from home. To New York. Imminently.

It’s a good move. He’s moving with a family we've known for years in part so one of his best friends can live away from home since his second Job Corps trade he was expecting to be able to take got sequestered out from under him. The original plan had been for him to be at Job Corps until he was 18, but now he’s going to be out at 17 and needed a roommate over 18 for his mom to be comfortable with him not living at home. The boys get along quite well and I believe my son will benefit from having the added responsibility of a younger roomie.

I also think my kid needs to get away from home. He’s trying to stretch his wings and fly, but coming from a broken home, he has two very different sets of ideals coming at him. I think some distance will allow him to find the parts of his father’s and my philosophies that speak to him without us right there on top of him while he does it. Distance =perspective, right? I think he needs some freedom to screw up without us right there to save him too. I like that he’ll get that with the safety net of near-family to catch him…it’s not a no-net situation, but the net may be farther away and looser knit that the one here.

I’m excited for him. I am: but the implications of him being gone really hit home this weekend as he packed up his belongings and put everything he wasn't taking with him into storage.  Seeing boxes full of my child’s belongings scattered through my living room made him no longer being in arm’s reach real in a way it wasn't before.

I am not a sheltering mom. I am nurturing and (sometimes) compassionate, but I also believe there is no greater teacher than experience. I am the mom who says, “Hey, I wouldn't do that if I were you. Really, if you do that you could hurt yourself. Oh hey, you hurt yourself; look at that. Come get some snuggles and calm down and let’s talk about how you got hurt. Did I say that was a bad idea, yes I did.”

But…I am so in love with this kid. He was my second born, the first child of my second marriage, thus the eldest of my second family. He’s funny and charming and, yes, a bit of a butt-head (damn kids…you raise them and then you know what? They ACT JUST LIKE YOU! Sheesh). To me, no matter how much taller than me he gets (he’s 18 1/2 he’ll grow more), or how old he grows (I was just expressing to The Man recently that I’m looking forward to seeing my kids as they get old), he will always be the chubby, jolly baby I let gnaw on frozen carrots to ease his teething pains, the toddler who taught himself to read a clock so he’d know what time things should happen and woe betide me if I told him I’d do something in five minutes and then take longer than that, the first grader who took the new kid under his wing, the middle schooler who fell in love with classical music, the high schooler who lived, ate, slept, and dreamed marching band.

He is my little boy…and he’s leaving home.

*sob*

This is My Blog Being Dark Today

Because I didn't think ahead and make sure I knew how to make my blogs dark for today to protest the legislation that is being considered by congress today, let this serve as notice that I stand with the internet community protesting today.

SOPA is the equivalent of The Patriot Act. Taking away our freedoms makes no one safer, it only makes us afraid.

On Loss at a Distance

When Death comes for someone you know, you can feel the icy edges of his robe sweep past you.

Yesterday, one of my children's cousins died unexpectedly. I am estranged from my ex-husband's family, so I hadn't seen him for several years. Still, the news came as a shock. He was between my two oldest boys age-wise (in his early 20s). There was no lingering illness, no warning. It is a terrible blow for their family and I am so sorry for their loss. The thread of his life was not worn or fading, just cut cleanly short by the sharp scissors of fate.

As horrible and tragic as the situation is, I feel no personal sense of loss; only the deep and profound sadness one feels on behalf of others. Without that sense of loss, it's difficult to reconcile that he's not just "away from me and no longer in my personal world except in a peripheral way." That boy is gone forever, never to be seen again in this life. He will never get married, raise children, attend my own children's weddings, etc. And that...is profoundly sad.

My heart breaks for my former sister-in-law. I can't imagine losing any one of my own children and now she's buried her two youngest. I cannot begin to comprehend her grief. I will extend condolences and pray for her. The hem of Death's garment has brushed past me. I feel that cold caress and the whisper of dry, ancient fabric, "It could have been one of them...it could have been any one of them..."

Then, earlier today, I read this post from The Houston Chronicle. I love Jenny, aka, The Bloggess... when she isn't being screamingly, scare the cat I'm laughing so loud funny, she writes in a way that speaks to me viscerally. In a sense, she writes like the voices in my head sound. So when she wrote about the accident at her daughter's school, I felt it. I felt the touch, heard the rustle, but this time it whispered, "It could have been you...it could have been you..." Maybe that second pass wouldn't have happened had Death not already been near, but it did and again I was chilled.

My heart just breaks for the family of that woman. They have to move forward and through what seems impossible. My heart breaks for the children who witnessed the accident. My heart aches for the poor woman who was behind the wheel of that car.

The last of the trifecta was a Facebook post from my daughter-in-law saying that one of her grandparents had died today. She's lost two this year.

Today the world seems like a bad and dangerous place. On days like today, I have an inkling of the fear my mother felt every time I walked out the door or down a flight of stairs. I try not to live in constant fear of losing my loved ones, but I'm genetically wired to worry and was reared in a culture of fear.

Days like today make that struggle a little harder.

Movie Review: “The Secret of Kells”

“The Secret of Kells” is a beautifully envisioned animated film from Ireland.

Set during the time of the Viking invasion the story follows the adventures of young Brendan, an apprentice to his uncle the Abbott Cellach in a walled abbey. Brendan dreams of being an illuminator but is thwarted by his uncle’s obsession with reinforcing the walls of the Abbey against Viking invaders. Brendan finds himself in the company of refugee from the island of Iona, Father Aidan, who fosters the boy’s artistic gifts against the will of the Abbott. Encouraged by his new mentor, Brendan ventures outside the walls of the abbey and finds not only a new friend in the form of a fairy named Aisling, but danger in the form of Crom Cruach.

The characters are not particularly deeply explored, and they don’t need to be. This is a simple hero’s journey and coming of age story, the depth of which is appropriate for a 75 minute children’s movie and quite typical of the Irish hero tales. Where the movie goes beyond this theme is the commentary on Pagan vs. Christian Ireland. There is balance between the two and good and bad in both the pagan world outside the abbey and the Christian world within. The message is that faith of any flavor is what saves us, not walls and reinforcement and keeping what is frightening at bay. To make the Christian manuscript, Brendan needs the aid of pagan magic.

The real star here is the amazing artful animation. I heard or read a review at one point before I saw the movie that swore that the colorists made up new colors for this film. I believe they may have been correct. The amazing deep saturation of color is truly beautiful and makes a lovely setting for the simply story. Much of the background scenery of the film as well as the deeply saturated colors are inspired by the Book of Kells and other medieval illuminated manuscripts, making for a lush land it is quite easy to lose oneself in.

There are no plot twists here, no unexpected turns of event. Those are not needed here. This is a simple tale exquisitely realized. If you get an opportunity to see “The Secret of Kells” I highly recommend you do so.
www.thesecretofkells.com

It's the End of the Year as We Know It...

Clearly, blogging did not hit my priorty list this fall. I love to write and want to write, but making time for things I want and love to do seems to go by the wayside...a lot...

I just got turned on to a blog I'm excited to read into the new year, www.comfortqueen.com. The fabulous Crescent Dragonwagon (www.crescentdragonwagon.typepad.com) posted her Yule/end of year post on Facebook and I was immediately hooked. She looked back on lessons learned in 2009 and I thought I would do the same.

(an aside...it's funny how even though me leanings are toward Celtic Wheel of the Year practice, Yule still feels more like the end of the year to me than Samhain...)

This has been a year of BIG CHANGE. Looking back, I have learned the following:

• Depression is nothing to mess with and alters your perceptions of reality.

Being someone who is generally very in tune with her physical being and knowing what is going on with her body, realizing that what is going on with my mind is a much harder thing was difficult. It took three auto accidents in four days for me to realize that there was something wrong. I also learned that I am prone to the, "I feel fine, maybe I don't need my anti-depressents any more," trap, which sadly has been fed by my primary care physician. I'm not keen on pharmeceuticals for better living, therefore I'm going to try being off one more time in spring when the depression won't be coupled with seasonal affective disorder and my divorce will be final, and if that doesn't fly... I'll believe that I need them et perpetua.

• No matter how much I love someone, I can't fix other people and I am responsible for no one's behavior but my own.

I know this should be a no-brainer, but I spent ten years trying to convince my ex he had a problem that needed to be addressed, gave up, and am now watching him get involved in a new relationship and it sure seems that he's making the same mistakes. I really, really hope I'm wrong. I really like his new girlfriend and truly hope they'll find happiness together. Meanwhile, I'm still struggling with, "if I'd done things differently-itis," but recent events have pushed me over the edge to fully moving on. I have my own relationship and am working very hard at being fully cogniscent of my shortcomings (and his) and being responsible for the mistakes I made in my marriage and learning from them and doing my darndest not to repeat them.

• I have limits.

I tend to forget this and completely overburden myself. I feel like I'm capable of anything and don't realize I'm not until I'm in way over my head. This year this has caused my grades to suffer as has my musicianship in both Chorale and Take Note! and has kept me from doing any writing. All this when I've already given up acting for the time being! It's all I can do to get through school and work and parent and build a new life. I'm still failing at doing all of these things as well as I'd like. I know, however, that I can find the balance and build my new life to be healthier than the old one.

I am not a patient woman. I hate for things to be in flux and this year has been nothing but transitions. I am moving into the new year with the knowledge that I create my own reality and that by this time next year I will be preparing for my senior experience in college, be living in my own place, and have been legally divorced for at least as long as I've been separated this Yule. I will have stability where now many things are in unstable. I will no longer feel like I am walking on a funhouse floor.

This year I will also...

• Cook more
• Bake more
• Write more
• Adjust to my new financial situation
• Get the kind of grades I expect of myself
• Make time for yoga, hiking, biking
• Create the change I want to see in my life, if not the world

Wish me luck, folks. :-)