That Devil in your Ear

A few preliminary comments before I delve into yoga topics.  First, this morning,  just wanted to wish my dearest Lorene a happy birthday.  Make it a good one, sissy.
Second topic on my list, my mate, Paul S (Pfiefferfilmsandmegmovies.com) stepped up to represent and welcomed me to the UK a few days ago, which was wonderful.  And I’m not complaining (just sayin’) it’s still just me and Paul.  Where are the rest of my peeps?  And, I mean, I love Paul S, don’t get me wrong, nothing against Paul, he’s a fabulous bloke, really.  But I’m feeling a bit gutted as I was just thinking it would be a larger turnout for my homecoming.
But you know the saying, when God closes one door, somewhere he opens a window (or in this case, when he only opens a door by a smidgen and you can’t seem to fit in because you weigh too much … okay, digressing again) well, my new yoga buddy and fellow blogger in Asia, yogafivefifty.com, on the other hand has brought me a few new friends, so thank you, and Namaste.
It’s all good, and I am so enjoying writing this blog.  I probably will say this a lot throughout my posts, but your comments and likes mean more than I can say.  I can’t respond during my work hours, but do try to follow up later in my day.  I tuck your responses away until I can spend some time, and they feel like tiny presents waiting for me at the end of my work day.  It feels almost tangible.  Amazing.
My hope is that amidst the joking, that we can connect on some of the serious topics I touch on, weight, health, stress, etc.  Your responses bring us all closer to realizing that none of us are alone, and that at the end of the day, we are all human, with strengths and weaknesses.  When we begin to let go of our fear of discussing a problem, we find that there are so many people with exactly the same issues feeling exactly the same way as we do.  For me, at least, that helps me take that deep breath and really look at the problem and begin finally to address it.  So, please continue to share your thoughts.
On to yoga. I attended class Wednesday night, one final class before our training starts.  Feeling a little like when I’m going to the dentist and I get so much better about flossing the two weeks before my appointment.  (Yeah, the dentist doesn’t notice, right?)
During class my anxiety about the training was definitely starting to kick in (or maybe that was just the yogi’s foot next to me, was a pretty crowded class.)  That voice in my head can be so negative.  (hey lady, you in the last row, can you put a cork in it!  We heard you the first five times you said it.)
I mean, really, I’m sure I’m not alone on this … when I start to obsess or stress about something, my inner voice just keeps repeating the same thing like in minute intervals, and it’s such a negative dialogue.  In class Wednesday night I got really tired, and I needed to rest.  Instead of being nurturing and kind like I would be to anyone else, that devilish dialogue starts in, “I don’t think you’re ready for this training.  Oh, yeah, the teacher must be looking at you thinking, sweetheart, you are NOT ready for the training class.   What were you thinking when you signed up for this class?  And aside from that, you really should floss more.”
I got to laughing at myself the other day because I was thinking, man, if I talked to my loved ones or friends (hopefully they are one and the same) like I talk to myself, repeating the same negative things over and over again A) they’d be having thoughts about my short-term memory problem, and B) they probably wouldn’t be my loved ones for long.
Ever since I had that comical visual, I’ve been more cognizant of that inner dialogue, and turning it off a bit sooner.  Bottom line, it’s usually just fear getting the better of me.  And if I can consciously bring a positive thought in disrupting the negative flow, it’s pretty effective.
So, on that note, I’ve prepared myself with some positive thoughts that I will keep handy beginning tonight.
Bloody good job, Sue.  You are blinding (not too sure about that one, bringing up a bad image)  but supposedly blinding is a good thing. Brilliant job!  What an Ace.  Cheers, you should be chuffed managing to do that pose.  Hunky-dory, little mate.
It’s just important that I show my peeps that I’m serious about being British.  And in the not too distant future I will be a lot smaller and I’m planning to slide through that crack in the door.  I just hope Paul S is not the only Brit welcoming me.
As always, thanks for sharing.  Send a positive thought my way the next few days.  Will be back next week to share my experience.  You all have a wonderful weekend.  I know I will.
Namaste

Weighing in with the Wayward Yogini

This post ought to have a lot of viewers (she isn’t really going to tell us her weight?  Bloody hell!)  Well, before I begin my class tomorrow, I do think it’s important to adjust … I mean document the numbers.  Throughout this class I will have numerous goals, and while losing weight is not my primary goal, it is an important one, if I want to lower my cholesterol levels and avoid taking medication.
As my stepson, Matt, puts it so well in his recent blog entitled Math at mferrera.com “You cannot bullshit math.  And you should not bullshit anything else.  Especially yourself.”  He’s right.
With that said, when I first went to the doctor a few months back, my weight was 148 (backspace backspace 3 8 backspace backspace L I A R backspace backspace backspace backspace breathe … deeper 4 8.)  148, there, I said it.  And truthfully, my tiny British frame should not be carrying around that many pounds.  It’s a reality.  And for some of you, 148 may not sound bad, but I’m exaggerating if I say I’m 5’1″, so this is not a healthy weight.
But here’s the good news, I began working to get ready for this class, going to yoga, hiking/walking and adjusted my diet somewhat.  Mainly just cut back on amounts, and tried to eat a diet with lots of fruits and vegetables.  And as I begin this class, I have dropped down to 141, so that’s a nice start.
We worked hard in our yard this last weekend, moving limbs and brush from a recent tree pruning, and also spent time collecting rocks to build a rock wall.  We had help from our amazing friends/houseguests, Janet and Lalo (not sure how we got lucky enough to have friends who actually love to work in our yard with us… must have done something right in a past life).
But what I have to tell you is that I was shocked at how much easier it was for me hiking up our hills, bending and stooping, than the last time I did this a few weeks back.  And that’s just 7 pounds, so how much better will I feel if it’s 17 pounds?  I was amazed at the difference in my energy level.  It made me think about the analogy of walking around with a weight in your hands while you are working, and the extra strain that’s putting on your heart, lungs, everything really.
The doctor I have been kidding about was just filling in for my doctor when I went to get my test results.  I had a conversation with my actual doctor on the visit before that one, and he was discussing taking medicine for high blood pressure which at the time we thought I might be suffering from.  Turns out it’s just white coat syndrome.  But at that time, it wasn’t clear.
But nonetheless, it was an interesting discussion because I said to him, ”I don’t want to start the medicine, because this is something I can correct. I haven’t worked hard enough to see if I really need this or not.”
His answer to me was, “well, probably about 85% of the medicine I prescribe is unnecessary … or would be unnecessary if people did what they needed to do to correct their issues.”
My answer was, “exactly my point.  I want longer to work on this before I accept that I need medicine.”
Obviously, there are many hereditary conditions that require meds, and no amount of working out or diet can change those.  But short of that, don’t we owe it to ourselves to try our best to do our part, before we put chemicals in our bodies, many of which solve one problem but create a new one?
I think Matt’s right, we shouldn’t be bullshitting ourselves into thinking we have no control in the instances where we actually do have the power to change and heal ourselves.
The body is a temple … my body … your body … a gift we are given to travel through this lifetime.   And given that my mom lived until 99, there’s a good possibility I might need this body to take me the for the long haul.
I have a few last things I am going to try to post about tomorrow, before our first class.
Namaste
 
 

The Past Repeating itself in a New Light

My meet and greet was awesome, and here we are, two days away from our first class.  I find myself in a mindful preparation for Friday … as well as, a readiness.
Yesterday I ordered my meditation pillow.  I actually love meditation, but have gotten so far from it in past years … let’s see, Lynn, how many years has it been?  (On second thought, let’s not talk numbers right now.)  Anyway, there was a day once upon a time I practiced my yoga and my meditation, and I loved every minute of it.  I can’t tell you how excited I am to make my way back.
But in that day, we didn’t have meditation pillows?  (just sayin’)   So I pulled it up today on Amazon, and there’s no shortage of meditation pillows.  (It’s a butt pillow, but I think they’ve come up with a much nicer name for them.)  They come in every shape, size  and color; but what I learned in my short Amazon drive-by is that you want it filled with buckwheat (not sure what that is, but it sounds like a character from Little Rascals.  Look it up, youngins’, great old show.)
And it’s preferable if it’s covered in organic cotton or hemp.  I browsed the hundreds of meditation pillows, but one caught my eye as it came with a bonus eye pillow.  I have no Idea what an eye pillow is, but if they’re throwing it in the deal and it’s made from buckwheat, then this I is on board.   (Will be an eye exam shortly following this post.)
Hopefully I’ve got this silliness out of my system for the rest of this blog.  (Sharon, you must have some responsibility for this personality trait, as you helped shape me from so young.)
Take a few long breaths before continuing, breathe in … hold for a count of ten … exhale (these are instructions I need to learn how to say in a rhythm that will not asphyxiate my students.)
The meet and greet was truly everything I expected it would be.  A gathering of peaceful souls looking to embark on a life-changing experience, one that will test each of us in ways we can’t even imagine at this point, but that we will remember and cherish for the rest of our days.  That, in a nutshell, is what I came away believing.
I didn’t take a head count, but I think there’s approximately 10-12 females and one male.   I’m definitely the Old Timer (thanks, Kenny, for that term) but I will embrace that role, and teach these youngins’ something in return for what they teach me.  I can’t wait.  I learned working for Virgin America, the position which I will soon be leaving, how rewarding it is to work with people much younger than I.  It makes you step up, not succumb to being lazy, and they have so much to teach us older folks.  They are, after all, what we were in our younger days, and we had a lot to share.  They do too, but exponentially speaking.  I love learning from them, but there will always be room for the wisdom of a generation or two before.  It’s what will help them build a foundation that will allow them to soar.  One generation builds upon the next.
Our two yoga teachers … Scott and Tess, www.eastwindyoga.com, were everything I was expecting and more.
I’d been attending Scott’s classes for a few months, but really not had too many in-depth discussions in that time, sign up for this and that, not too much more than that.  Take that towel, put it in the dryer, that kind of stuff.  But my time in class offered more than enough time to know that he was a true teacher, and one that would push for more at any chance, but make it fun all the while.  Great combo.
Tess, I’d never met, but had visited her website and spoken with her on the phone.  I loved her website, but it failed in comparison with meeting her in person.  What an amazing tiny powerhouse, so full of love and goodness … (these are my teachers?)
Two amazing souls teaching my yoga teacher training class,  I think my mom is up there pulling some strings.
Tomorrow approaching at light speed …
One chance at a life to give it all and get it right …
Endless second chances to take it one chance at a time.  (I’m going to need that to get some of these poses down.)
Will share a few last minute thoughts tomorrow.
Namaste

A Chatty British Yogini

Wait for it … you ready for this? I have been welcomed by my peeps!  At 10:10 a.m yesterday morning, I was viewed 10 times in (drum roll) Great Britain.  If I can do that in one day, what might I accomplish by the end of this blog?
I decided I better do a crash course to be ready for my British followers, so I did some research, read an article on the internet called “50 Awesome British Slang Terms You Should Start Using Immediately” (brilliant, right?)  I will be trying them out on my readers from time to time to get used to the jargon.
Feel free to correct me if I become a bit of a damp squib.  See, if I had to guess what that meant, I would have said something from the sea.  Turns out that’s it’s something that fails ignominiously to satisfy expectations; an anti-climax, a disappointment.
I was thinking on my short hike after work, this blogging is right up my alley.  I come from a long line of (apparently British) talkers.  I travel back to my earliest memories of school, kindergarten to be precise.  They used to lay out towels for us kids to take a “nap.” (Seriously that wasn’t happening, at least not on my towel.)  I remember finding my towel slowly sliding away from my little pal, Joannie, to some remote spot in the room as far away from her as possible.  Bye “Jod.”
And remember those report cards, you either got a  + or – in the box, and then there were the comments, mine usually was a minus and said “needs improvement” in the citizenship category.  As an adult, I take exception to that, as I was being social and friendly.  Isn’t that what citizenship means?  Apparently not in second grade.  It means you talk too much.  Giving me flash backs to my doctor telling me I weigh too much.  (not for long, Doc)
Let’s get back to my topic, long line of talkers … (that’s right.  I remember now)  I was going to tell you about my mom.  My mom could talk anyone under the table, maybe except her brother, Ken.
In her younger days … before we had to remove the phone from her room because she insisted on calling 911 every time she hiccupped (I wish I was exaggerating) seven hours later returning from the emergency room with a clean bill of health in hand, along with the ambulance bill, we decided the next time we changed her room, it just did not come with a phone.  We had a few discussions about that, but I assured her she could use the home’s phone any time, and that seemed to do the trick.  Problem solved.
Breathe, Sue, and finish your original thought (ADD makes for interesting conversations, it stretches the listener’s abilities.  Trust me, I’ve been stretching Rick’s abilities for years). Years before when my mother did not have dementia and lived on her own, she would call and talk “at me” as opposed to “to me.”   There is definitely a difference.  These one-way conversations would go on for anywhere from 30-60 minutes.  My mom obviously needed to talk, and as hard as I tried to interrupt her at 15-minute intervals to say there was something I needed to do, make dinner, drive the kids here or there, work, whatever, she simply wouldn’t hear it.
So I figured out a system that worked pretty well.  I would lay the phone down for 10-15 minutes intervals and get my work done.  I would pick up the phone, say “uh-huh” and put the phone right back down.  She never skipped a beat, and we both were the winners.  So when I say I’m a talker, I guess I truly do come by it naturally.
Life certainly challenges us in so many ways with our loved ones.  But as I tell this story, it makes me smile and miss my mom.
And see, here’s where I should have been starting to actually finally tell you about my yoga meet and greet, but instead my writing time is coming to an end tonight.  It’s a more serious topic anyway, so today just needed to be a celebration of my visit to the UK and a nod to my mom.  Thanks, Mom, and Namaste.
 
 

I've Got Mail

This may sound crazy, but I missed you these past two days.  Blogging is amazing.  I knew I would enjoy writing the blog, as writing is always something I love doing, but what I didn’t anticipate was how much the connection with others would affect me.
I’ve reconnected with old friends I haven’t talked with in years, so nice.   People I’ve never met have sent encouragement or confided something of their own, amazing.  And then there’s my friends I do keep in touch with regularly, but not on a daily basis, and it’s just so phenomenal enjoying your camaraderie and support. 
Truly, I’m like a kid. If I pass my phone or the computer, I just can’t help myself, I’ve got to take a peak.  Has anyone else read the blog since I last passed by my computer (five minutes ago)?  Do I have a new follower? 
Oh, and can I just tell you when there is something in my inbox, whatever form it takes, I feel like Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail (actually one of my favorite movies.)  Remember the AOL ring, air sound, and familiar male voice saying “You’ve got Mail.”  The updated version is much quicker, a little number in the corner of your computer screen or on your telephone.  A simple little number, but boy, it raises my heart rate, puts a smile on my face and leaves me walking on air. 
Unlike the doctor visit, this story isn’t so much about the numbers, but what that number represents, and that’s you, whoever you are, reading my blog at this moment.  The uniting of souls is powerful stuff.  If we ever find a way to harness it, we will surely light the world. 
So let me tell you, I’ve done some traveling this past week.  My blog has been to China, Peru, Canada, Mexico, Ireland, and France.  Amazing, right?  But I just have to ask, where are my peeps?  (England, no warm welcome for your new little Brit?  Is that an okay term or is that politically incorrect? I’d hate to start off on a bad foot.  So much to learn about being British.) 
Abi, if you’re out there, you need to share my blog on your FB page and then tell your sister and father to read it.  I need to make my way home to my peeps.
And speaking about sharing my blog, the blog site does break down my stats, referrals, etc., and I can see that it isn’t only Rick who shares my posts on his FB page (God bless him) but others have as well, which is probably how I’ve made it to such distant places so quickly, so thank you for that. 
One quick side note, today we went to Lodi to our favorite winery,  Klinkerbrick.  On the way down as we passed the Lodi airport, the sky was littered with brightly colored parachutes, probably 12-15 brave souls sailing down from the heavens.  It was an amazing sight and made me smile.  (Universe can be so persistent when you are trying to ignore its messages.)  I have to say seeing the number of people in the sky made me think, I can do that.  It’s what I’m talking about in this blog … connection with others.  Makes all things seem possible.
I did attend my meet and greet Friday night, and I am excited to tell you all about it. Tonight I’m tired from a wonderful weekend spent with some of the best friends one could ask for, and the idea of my followers tucked in my pocket … life was good.  Will write tomorrow when I’m rested and fill you in.  Lot to share.
 
“You’ve Got Mail”
“I hear nothing, not even a sound on the streets of New York, just the beat of my own heart … I have mail”
 
Namaste

Navigating the Learning Curv(Y) Trail

One day into blogging, I must confess when I pressed send for the first post, I felt sheer terror followed almost immediately by exhilaration.
While I’m still afraid of parachuting with my son ( his 21st birthday wish was for us to go parachuting, he’s 26 now, he’s still waiting) a few more exercises like pushing send agreeing to offer up my underbelly both literally as well as figuratively, I might just find myself one of these days sailing down from the heavens right behind my son.
Posting my first blog did present a few technical issues.  I’m not saying user error, but it seems I sent a few invites to friends with my username as the sender, a female name no one would connect with me, Rickiesue.  (It’s cute, right?  Good luck name Rick and my name combined.  Well, anyway)  When you receive an email saying “check my stuff out,” from someone named Rickiesue, it can be misconstrued.   Depending who you send it to, there are some who might avoid opening the email.  (understood)
And then there might have been a few who did open it, and ended up quite disappointed with a sunset and blogging about yoga.  It’s all in the details.
Apparently I also titled it “Y”, and ended it with an “I” followed by nothing.  (Why Y? strange title, must be some deep meaning) 
The good news is I’ve found navigating the site that there’s an extremely convenient edit button that lets me change my blog even after it’s been published.  Brilliant … (Oh and I recently found out by DNA testing that I’m 66 percent British, so I’m liking the idea of using the word brilliant more as well as Namaste.)
I concede this will be a bit of a learning curve, but hey, we’re on an amazing path, hiking boots on, water bottle in hand.
It’s time to hike.
 
Blog photo is on a hike from our house down to the American River.