God and Guns

I wanted to use this as my status on Facebook just now, but I second-guessed it:

"I'm already seeing the "pray for Paris" all over FB. Please understand that so, so many of these terror attacks are inspired by extreme religious beliefs. When secular folks like me see the words guns and God in the same sentences we are scared. We are scared for legitimate and undeniable reasons. I hope that more religious folks will see the danger in religious extremism and condemn people in the US and around the world for using their religious beliefs as reasons for hate."

See, I'm still a little brainwashed by my Christian upbringing. I don't want to offend or upset Christians because so many of them seem to think there is some sort of war on Christianity in the US. It's too bad because the truth about religion (not just Christianity) is hard and hurtful and painful and needs to be shouted from the rooftops as far as I'm concerned. Bad people using religion to murder, enslave, and terrorize is nothing new or modern. We just have better weaponry now to aid those folks dead set on inflicting terror around the world. Please excuse the pun.

I shouldn't be so hard on Christians because right now it seems that Islamic extremism is quite possibly our greatest threat to global safety. I only wish that the people in this country screaming for more religion and blaming society's perceived downfall on the lack of Jesus in school could take off the goggles for a moment and truly see what it looks like to live somewhere ruled by religious dogma. It generally isn't working out well.

Why? I don't think there is anything wrong with believing in a god. However, no religion is free from judgement. Most major religious dogmas teach their followers that they are somehow better and superior. Believers are encouraged to judge and punish the behavior of non-believers. In the wrong hands (or in the hand of someone who has a gun in the other hand) this belief becomes a pathological excuse for the destruction and massacre of others.

War, murder, persecution, and destruction happen for a myriad of reasons beyond religion. Let me make it clear that I don't believe all religious people are bad apples. They aren't; I know and love very many religious people. However, there needs to be constant awareness and vigilance about the power of religion and what it can do when it seeps into our government and law.

We must be careful about heading into conflicts and wars that only stoke the causes of religious extremism. However, we cannot be silent and allow any religion or religious group to force their beliefs onto others.

As I always say and will continue to say: Love is my religion. Kindness is my dogma. Gratitude is my alter. Peace is my prayer.

To those in Paris and around the world suffering because of violence: no prayer is enough to make it better. I don't have a solution to the problem of terrorism or violence, but I will continue to rally behind the causes of justice through tolerance (NOT acceptance). I will continue to firmly believe the motto of "Do no harm, but take no shit."

Where that leads us, who knows? Please, y'all, love your neighbors.

A Little More on Inspiration

I sometimes get requests for the list of songs on my yoga playlists.  The music I use in my yoga practice is a big deal to me, and I invest an abundance of time and thought into my playlists.  Even if my students aren't listening to the words of the songs, I hope they realize that my goal in planning a playlist is to inspire their practice.  I pick songs with a satisfying tempo to inspire our bodies, and songs with meaningful words to inspire our minds and spirits.  Some songs are, of course, just for fun.  I mean, The Pina Colada Song doesn't really inspire anything besides cringes, right?

What makes music inspiring for our minds and spirits? Music can trigger a memory from youth or from a special day.  My yogis will often hear me say things like, "This takes me back to 7th grade at the roller skating rink," or "Any other children of the 90's remember this one?"  There are times when I have students who weren't even born when I reference a song from the 90s, and I'm certain they think I'm insane.  

Sometimes you find pieces of people you know in a song.  We all have moments where we hear a song and are immediately reminded of a friend or loved one.  Some memories are joyful and some are somber, but no matter what emotions spring forth we are grateful for what these people mean to us.  I have cried more than once in yoga class because of a certain song and how it relates to the struggles I'm having or the joys I'm experiencing.  

Plus, I love to sing along to music while I practice yoga.  Sorry, yogis.  

Starting with this post I will from time to time share some of my favorite yoga playlist songs.  Obviously, you can listen to music outside the yoga studio, so I hope these songs can help carry you and inspire you when you need a little joy.  

The first playlist I'm sharing is one centered around friendship and love.  Forming bonds with others can bring both joy and sorrow.  Grief is the price we pay for loving, but how terrible would it be if we never had anything worth losing or grieving?  

Trouble by Ray LaMontagne 

Song for a Friend by Andreya Triana (gosh, I've shed more tears over this song than I'd like to admit)

Never Quit Loving You by Jill Barber

Umbrella by Rihanna 

Rather Be by Clean Bandit 

What You Don't Do by Lianne La Havas

You Make Me Feel Good by Satin Jackets

Lean on Me by Bill Withers 

Lucky by Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat

Your Song by Ellie Goulding 

You are the Best Thing by Ray LaMontagne (yeah, I kind of love his voice)

If I Ain't Got You by Alicia Keys

All of Me by Postmodern Jukebox

Just Breathe by Pearl Jam (seriously, if you can listen to the lyrics, "I'm a lucky man to count on both            hands the ones I love," and not be filled with boundless joy then you may not be a human                    being.)

Thank You by Dido

There are probably a hundred more songs I could add to this list, but this is a good start.  Have a song that inspires you?  Please share it with me!!  

 

You're the Inspiration

A friend mentioned a few months ago that, ahem, why am I not blogging?? My response was simple: I lost my inspiration.  And not just for writing.

Inspiration ebbs and flows in all of us.  Sometimes we are excited by new challenges in life, and sometimes we are overwhelmed by "adulting."  I'm constantly telling my yogis to find joy in every day, even in the mundane.  I've mastered finding folding laundry and washing dishes pleasant, but finding joy has been a bit more difficult.  I love baking and cooking, but I hate cleaning up afterwards.  Why cook or bake only to leave myself with piles of dirty dishes and a messy floor?  Ugh.

I've started teaching more yoga classes; I'm up to more than 10 per week on average.  I'm teaching little kids, which is new.  I'm teaching in different spaces, like onstage at a high school auditorium.  I've met new, interesting people with gripping life stories and hilarious personalities.  Yet, I've lost my own yoga practice.  I spend 10+ hours a week teaching yoga, and all teachers (no matter what you teach) know how much planning goes on behind he scenes for just one hour of class.  Plus, I have to travel to each class.  It's exhausting.

One of the reasons why I took on some extra classes was because my fellow yoga teacher RH delivered her daughter prematurely at 25 weeks this summer.  I took over two of her classes while at the same time losing one of the main "substitute" teachers I have in case I need a day off.  RH's baby girl thrived despite arriving early, and RH came back to work.  Here she is with me on her first day back in September.

A few weeks after RH came back to work, she got the news that her baby was ready to come home from the hospital!!  So, back I went teaching her classes for her while she was off being supermom.  I along with her students missed her but knew she was where she needed to be: home with her toddler and newborn.

About the same time RH was bringing her new baby home from the hospital I was also bringing my new baby home...only my new baby has four legs and fur.  His name is Archie.

Just a few weeks after bringing her baby home, RH was diagnosed with Stage 2 breast cancer.

Yes, I said the same thing out loud that you just said in your head when you read that: What the fuck? This vibrant, easy going, beautiful new mom is about to have her life turned upside down.  Again.  Unlike pretty much everyone else who was filled with tears and expressions of sympathy, RH has henceforth decided to carry on each day with this attitude:

So, what is one to do when it feels like life is just a cycle of work, pay bills, die?  What is one to do when the fountain of inspiration has dried up because adulting is just too taxing and mundane?

Let's start here: October is breast cancer awareness month. I'll be damned if I'm not fully aware of breast cancer after having two very young, vibrant female friends diagnosed in 2015.  Of course being the person that I am I immediately start fighting imaginary battles of my own: got a cough this morning? Cancer.  My stomach hurts? Cancer.  Joints achy? Cancer.

But what would my friends fighting real battles say? Cancer? Cancer ain't got nothin' on them.  Cancer can attack their bodies; chemo can leave them tired and hurting and hairless.  I type these next words with all seriousness and admiration: when I look at these women I don't see the cancer hiding inside them.  I see their spirits cheering everyone on and saying, "Don't be sad for me! Be joyful with me!"

Excitement does not always come in the form of vacations or a new car or a new project at work.  Sometimes excitement comes as cancer. That saying, "same shit, different day" isn't necessarily a bad thing, right? That mundane life you have, those dishes you have to wash, that morning commute to work, those endless days of running kids around to practice...that should be where you find your inspiration.  Why expect inspiration to come knocking at your door?  You may not like what knocks.
PS: Fuck cancer.

Irony

Life, it is so funny.  Sometimes we laugh, and sometimes we don't get the joke.  I'm assuming I'm misusing the context of the word, but life is ironic.

Like how I make a commitment to help others be happy and healthy but end up breaking my ankle.   I've spent the last four weeks hobbling around and gimping my way through teaching yoga.  It's been a great test of learning to appreciate my body. 

Practicing child's pose with a gross black and blue ankle.  

Then let's add in some acid reflux that lead me to believe I had a tumor (hey, I already admitted my problem with being a hypochondriac).  Turns out I just have h pylori, a bacterial infection in my stomach that that cause reflux, ulcers, and if left untreated can cause cancer.  So, I'm on some super strong antibiotics with some unfriendly side effects.  I have a lovely vomit taste in my mouth all the time.  I'm sure the diarrhea can't be far behind.  I spent a lot of time trying to restore my gut flora to a decent balance, and now all that hard work is about to be flushed down the toilet.  Literally.  

Enter in probiotics and kombucha my new best friends.  I'm even going to try making my own kombucha drinks thanks to a friend who is acquiring a SCOBY for me.  Hopefully I don't kill it.  

I'm sure you can see the irony in championing a health challenge and then becoming a gimpy sicko, right??  

Oh well.  You know what they say?

I Am Woman. Hear Me Roar.

The wise words of Helen Reddy (3/4 of you don't have any idea who she is):

I am woman, hear me roar
In numbers too big to ignore
And I know too much to go back an' pretend
'Cause I've heard it all before
And I've been down there on the floor
No one's ever gonna keep me down again

Oh yes, I am wise
But it's wisdom born of pain
Yes, I've paid the price
But look how much I gained
If I have to, I can do anything
I am strong
(Strong)
I am invincible
(Invincible)
I am woman.

You can bend but never break me
'Cause it only serves to make me
More determined to achieve my final goal
And I come back even stronger
Not a novice any longer
'Cause you've deepened the conviction in my soul

 Being forced to take it down a notch thanks to my broken ankle provided me time to read.  I'm not a voracious reader by any means, and I have been known to start a book and never finish it.  One that really impacted me is Pro: Reclaiming Abortion Rights by Katha Pollitt.  I understand that abortion is a touchy subject, and you don't have to agree with me to understand why this book awakened something in me.

I am part of a generation of women (I was born in 1979) who reaped the benefit of decades and decades of struggle not just for reproductive rights, but for human rights in general.  Marital rape wasn't a crime when Roe v. Wade was decided in 1973, and in fact it wasn't until 1993 that marital rape was illegal in all 50 states.  Until 1978 a woman could be fired simply for being pregnant.  Hell, women weren't legally allowed to serve on juries in all 50 states until 1973.  If you don't believe me, Google it.  

In 2015, women still have a long way to go.  The government and our employers get to decide what medical care we can access.  Let that sink in.  The Supreme Court says that your employer can decide what medical services will be covered under your insurance.  Women should be yelling from the rooftops, "WHAT IS GOING ON!??"  Instead, we hide behind misunderstood "religious freedom."  Don't even get me started on religion being used to marginalize and persecute people.  Here's some advice: stop using God, Allah, Jehovah and any other god as an excuse to make your position in society better.  

But I digress.

Women, though expected to care for each and every egg we allow to be fertilized, are not given paid leave when babies are born.  FMLA does not protect a woman's job unless she has (usually) worked in the same place for a year.  Society claims to value human life but undervalues mothers every single minute of every single day.  Women don't make as much as men for the same work.  

Women both young and old are judged and valued according to their appearance.   Girls and women are told that being raped is their fault (because of their clothes, or maybe they were out too late, or maybe she should've known what he was after, or he was owed something).  

Feminist is a dirty word.

Boys are called "pussies" and ridiculed for running/playing/throwing "like a girl."

Men are told to "man up" because obviously showing emotion is weak. 

Corporations are people.  Fertilized eggs are people.  Women? Meh.  

Ladies and gentlemen, we have work to do.

Where do we begin??  Well, as with any many problems the solution isn't simple.  I hope to elaborate more on solutions in later blogs.  My purpose here is to get you thinking critically about the complacency of our generation.  I want y'all to start thinking about solutions.  Until then  Susan B. Anthony has an idea:

I know, she's ancient history, so let's hear from a more recent feminist:

Lessons from the Couch

Yes, friends, I broke my ankle.  Technically, I have an avulsion fracture in the fibula of my left leg caused by tripping over the sash between my basement and my garage.  This marks the second time I've broke a bone by tripping.  In fact, I broke a bone in my left foot the same way eight years ago.

I've learned so much more this time from being "grounded," maybe better defined as "couched."  Eight years ago, I stepped off my front porch on a lovely Spring day and rolled my ankle.  At that time my hubby was three hours away working in another city.  I was pregnant and had three other kids to take care of, but I got them all loaded up and we headed to the doctor.  My husband had to come and get me and the kids and drive us to my dad's so that someone would be around to help out the gimpy pregnant lady.  I was so busy trying to care for everyone else that I didn't really worry much about myself.

Fast forward eight years to me once again rolling my ankle on yet another lovely Spring day.  Curses!  This time I drove myself to the doctor all alone while my oldest babysat the other kids.  I may be stuck in a boot, but my kids can pretty much do all the chores.  No one needs a diaper change.  Sure, I've still been cooking the meals, but they can make a sandwich or get a bowl of cereal.  In other words, this time around I can actually rest.

Rest is medicine for a broken ankle.  Resting is so difficult for me; I can't even sit through a movie without getting restless.  I know that others have bigger problems than a broken ankle, but for me this injury is pretty devastating.  I can't teach yoga.  I can't go for a run.  I can't spend the day running errands.  I can't help anyone.  I can only rest.  (and eat cookies)

This time around things are much different.  This morning as I hobbled to the post office I wasn't chasing after a toddler and hoping to just get in and out as fast as possible.  No, this morning I could hobble and limp and take my sweet time.  I had time to notice the man walking with a cane.  He wasn't wearing a boot; he was just handicapped.  Life had thrown him a permanent "boot," one which he doesn't get to take off in a few weeks.  I was grateful to limp along today knowing that my boot is here to help and support me through a temporary injury.  Thank you, boot.

Last time I broke my ankle I wasn't yet practicing yoga.  This time around I'm not just practicing, I am teaching.  The bottom line hit me pretty hard: I can't teach yoga.  I can't, and that hurts more than the ankle.

But I can still practice.  My practice doesn't look the same right now as it did a week ago.  I have to remember the one thing I tell my students all the time: your yoga doesn't have to look like everyone else's yoga.  Your yoga, no matter what it looks like, is still yoga.  Will my yoga look like this?

Not for awhile.  Right now, my yoga looks like this:

And that's cool because it's still my yoga.  Friends, I've had to learn to take my own advice many times in the last few years.  That in itself is a pretty tough lesson.  In the next few weeks I'll have to follow another piece of my own advice: listen to your body.  What my mind wants will be irrelevant for the next few weeks.  My ankle is the boss of me, and I'm going to let it rule.  I'm going to be grateful for the time to heal and for the lessons I'm learning.

Thanks, boot.  Thanks for the lessons.

Handy

I blame the Girl Scout cookies.  

You know what I mean.  I was doing so well reducing sugar until cookie season.  I can't blame the cookies for all the pasta I've eaten this month, but I cannot be held responsible for the sugar.  Curse you, cookies!!  

Honestly, I absolutely do have control of what I put in my mouth.  I've made some bad food choices in February, but this week I am working on rebooting the diet plan.  I was talking to one of the trainers at the gym where I work, and she started following a diet called "intuitive eating."  Basically, you eat whatever you want focusing on nutritionally dense food and "junk food" in moderation with the understanding that some things you eat aren't actually food (Fruity Pebbles, Totino's pizza, Cheetos, Girl Scout cookies...).  This diet plan assumes that you can be intuitive as to what foods are nutritious or not.  The problem is that there are so many people who think (thanks to advertising) a Hot Pocket or a Lean Cuisine meal meet the definition of food.  They don't.  Intuitive eating is definitely something to explore, though, because it allows you to eat what you want when you want it.  There isn't any denial of food, but intuitive eating demands some conscientiousness about what exactly food is.

She also mentioned how she was using My Fitness Pal and had the same problems with it cursing her out for eating too much fat or eggs, etc.  I felt better about ditching My Fitness Pal after talking to her about its shortfalls.  Again, counting calories is important in weight loss, but I strongly believe that eating whole, nutritious food is much more important than dwelling on calories.  

Enough food talk.  More fun talk.  This is good stuff right here:

I always say that our bodies are really amazing things, and our fingers are no exception.  I mentioned earlier that I have a young friend battling cancer.  If you are able, please consider using a finger to clink this link to read her story and donate to her Go Fund Me campaign.   Jenn is truly kind and bubbly and smart and beautiful and strong; I really don't have enough adjectives in my vocabulary to complement her.  

Our hands are one of the most impressive tools on Earth.  Their dexterity is unmatched in nature.  Our hands are expressive and warm (or cold, like mine).  They hold the ones we love.  They change our babies' diapers and lovingly stroke our pets.  My favorite thing that hands do?  High fives.  

What will your hands do today?  Whether you type an email or bake a loaf of bread, take a moment to appreciate how great your hands are.  And remember to give a high five or two while you're at it.