tides and seasons of my secret life

Gartenfische and Kirsten both tagged me with my first meme ever.

I’ll be a good girl and play along

Four Things Meme

Four jobs I’ve had:

1. translator/interpreter;
2. nurse;
3. nanny;
4. secretary (this was only a summer job)

Four movies I can watch over and over:

1. All that jazz, 1979
2. The Matrix, 1999
3. Once Upon a Time in America, 1984
4. Hero (Ying xiong), 2002

But that was hard, I should be allowed to pick at least ten.

Four places I’ve lived: I’ll skip this one for reasons of anonymity. But I could replace it with:

Four books I love:

1. What I loved by Siri Hustvedt
2. Henry & June by Anais Nin
3. Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke
4. One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Four is not enough, definitely.

Four TV shows I love/d:

1. Grey’s Anatomy
2. ER
3. The L-word
4. Lost

Yes, I do watch TV. Shame on me

I’ll exchange the four places I’ve vacationed for my four favorite musicians/bands:

1. Pink Floyd
2. K’s choice
3. Tori Amos
4. Rosenstolz

I guess you all know who Pink Floyd and Tori Amos are

Four favorite dishes: (Please, gimme a break. I’m known as the world’s most picky grown-up eater)

1. Chocolate
2. Ice Cream
3. Water melon
4. Chicken

I know, these are not exactly dishes, but the best answer I can provide you with

Four sites I visit daily:

1. Yahoo Mail
2. Google
3. Bloglines
4. A poetry forum

Then there are four places I’d rather be, but there is none. I’m perfectly fine just here Well, okay, yeah, at the seaside. Anytime.
Umh, I’m supposed to tag four of you to do the meme. But I’ll be compassionate. Let’s say, you do it, if you like it

In other news, I’m exhausted. Practice went fine for most parts, except backbends really killed me today. I think I’ll write about that tomorrow. Now I’ll get a good night’s sleep. Hola!

Courtesy of myyogaonline and flickr under the Creative Commons License.

I don’t even know where to start on Castaneda (or rather Don Juan). I’m his girl, totally. I dare say he’s saved my life. Every sentence is a revelation. I was in 9th grade, when I read the books for the first time. And every single time I get so excited over them, I just lose all my coherent thinking Which may be a good thing, actually.

So, what is it all about? The Warrior’s Way. And given the stellium in Aries I’m featuring, it’s highly unsurprising. Aries is a sign, governed by Mars or Ares, the God of War. And as it comes, I have my Sun, Mars and Venus in that sign. You can guess I’m easily impressed by strength, stamina, power and fearlessness both in men and women and mostly, myself. It’s the path that has a heart for me. I’m passionate about it. It resonates within me and makes me a better person. It keeps me on-track and helps me overcome my weakness.

Often, I only need someone to kick my ass gentle reminders and my perspective changes in a second. I don’t need to read the whole teachings anymore, a little quote is perfectly enough.

If he gives in to fear he will never conquer it, because he will shy away from learning and never try again. But if he tries to learn for years in the midst of his fear, he will eventually conquer it because he will never have really abandoned himself to it.
Therefore he must not run away. He must defy his fear, and in spite of it he must take the next step in learning, and the next, and the next. He must be fully afraid, and yet he must not stop. That is the rule! And a moment will come when his first enemy retreats. The man begins to feel sure of himself. His intent becomes stronger. Learning is no longer a terrifying task.

~ Carlos Castaneda, The Teachings of Don Juan

It’s like someone clicked one’s fingers and Welcome to the Separate Reality. Strangely enough, I can compare Don Juan’s teachings to The Matrix. Neo is my hero. I see so much sense in every little detail, it would probably take me a week to explain it all. I think anyone, who has seen what I mean, will understand.

This is a rather inarticulate post, but sometimes I’m at a loss for words, because it’s ll so much b-i-g-g-e-r than my little brain can process. But coming back to Castaneda was such a great idea. I still have all my fear and anxiety, of course, but now I remember that’s not the important part about life. The important part is to face it and go through it, steadily. I sure as hell won’t give in to fear.

A warrior takes responsibility for his acts; for the most trivial of his acts. He waits patiently, knowing that he is waiting, and knowing what he is waiting for. That is the warrior’s way.

~ Carlos Castaneda, A Separate Reality

Courtesy of myyogaonline and flickr under the Creative Commons License.

Good morning, everyone

Yesterday at Now or Never I read about Kirsten’s 5:45 a.m. blues and it hit me hard with questions about my own life.

For the last year, I’ve been pretty much on my own, deciding when to go to sleep, when to wake up, what to do throughout the day. I had deadlines to consider, but I would spend a great amount of time on procrastinating and then rush myself to complete my tasks last-minute. It’s always worked for me that way. I put things off, until I no longer can and than use the adrenaline push to see through with them. Which leaves me pretty exhausted, but in 26 years I have found no other way to handle stuff.

But now there will be huge change, not only in my daily routine and the responsibility coming with it, but also in the effort required and the shortfall of my own private time for things like meditation, yoga, seeing friends or spending quality time with the darling man. Reading Kirsten’s post I realized part of my worries are caused by the anticipation of change and how I would handle it, what I would have to give up or sacrifice.

As up to now, if I didn’t feel like yoga or meditation practice (or just couldn’t make myself do it), I would always take the back-door exit and tell myself, okay then, I’ll do it later/tomorrow/first thing in the morning. And, eventually, I would really do it tomorrow or the day after.

But starting next Wednesday, I know I will need my practice to keep me safe and sane. Internship is like the limbo, if not hell itself. You are the youngest, so you get to do all the holiday shifts, as many night-shifts, as they can bestow upon you and you are always on call. Then, everyone gets to choose their vacation first, and you take what time is left.

So, if practice was optional until now, I pretty much know I will need it desperately in future. Motivation is part of the problem. Bed-time at 9? Really? This is how I reacted to Kirsten’s post. I like staying up late, doing nothing. Bed-time at 9 sounds like deliberate solitary confinement to me. But then again, that’s airs and graces, no? It’s a matter of priorities, my teacher would say and I would focus on my toe-caps and bite my lips.

As from next Wednesday, I’ll need to get up at 6 a.m. in order to be there at 7:30 with a clear mind and a body awake. So when do the yoga? Get up at 5:00 for an hour of yoga? Or do the yoga after work and meditate in the morning? How will I manage not to fall asleep? How will I bring up the motivation not to hit the snooze? Will I have any time left for private life?

Kirsten was gracious enough to write a whole post on How to Change Your Sleep Schedule. It might be useful for you as well, so drop by and give it a look. There is great advice and I am aware, now it’s pretty much up to me to give it a go.

I got up at 7:15 this morning and although I really, really intended to go to the park for my routine,  yeah… I ended up doing restorative poses and relaxation at home. Restorative poses are such a treat, but don’t you feel like you’re cheating? Like, it’s not really yoga, just a nicer form of lying around doing nothing? Awww… It’s still pretty cool outside, I think I’ll grab my mat and go

Have a great weekend, y’all!

wasn’t I? The Universe keeps sending me little signs that I’m on the right path.

Like this, over at Zazazu:

 

There may be more to learn from climbing the same mountain a hundred times than by climbing a hundred different mountains. ~Richard Nelson

And, just in case you wondered what I look like, I will satisfy your curiosity, courtesy of the wonderful Simpsons. She looks pretty much like me

Enough of whining!

Let’s have a real positive post today

I was really tense and mixed-up in the morning. Just thinking about the new job is hard on me. I want to be perfect and I know I’m not even close. I fantasize about possible mistakes in the future and educational negligence I committed in the past. I don’t even sleep nicely, although I sleep enough, but even in my sleep I’m all tense and frightened.

But I have those great friends, who are sane, when I am not So one of them talked me down and we agreed definitely upon having a good sleep, maybe a good yoga session, maybe a good glass of wine, maybe a good book. Remember the “Rhythm. Persistence. Patience.” post a while ago? Right back there I am. When do you know you mastered a task to a degree of satisfaction? Well, I guess, when you stop coming back to it at a regular rate and when you need no reminders. In other words when it comes to you naturally, when you have woven it into the fabric of your being and it radiates from you. Until then, however, it’s a matter of practice. Similar to meditation practice, when thoughts disturb the blankness of you mind and you gently put them aside, it happens in life that you state of awareness is often disturbed and you start drifting. Then, gently, something reminds you of where you started in the first place. It can be a word, almost anything, actually. So then, go back to the point, where you felt steady and at peace, and start all over again. I know, anger can emerge. Anger at the world for putting you off-track so easily, anger at yourself for being easily distracted. Let the anger pass and hold on there for a minute. Feel the safe place, feel the calm, breathe and go on.

Giving up feels so tempting sometimes. Just turn your back and forget. Just “be normal”. Just care about ordinary things. Just… be like “all the others”. But when you give it a second thought…? Yeah, I knew so. “All the others” were no touchstone for me even in kindergarten.

And having said that, although we have a choice, actually we have none. Except, repeating all the steps in a state of awareness, until we find where we went astray.

Of course, it can be annoying. But we’re slow learners, I’m no exception, right? And beating myself up about it brings me no further. It rather gives me an excuse. Like, I beat myself up, now I can go back to procrastinating/denial/playing the pretend game. I don’t think that’s a wise idea, either. So I have to restrain myself from giving in to self-pity or self-accusations and just feeling the calm. It’s hard, especially when you need to overcome the habits of many years, but it’s manageable.

What was it today, that brought me back on track? A friend, who mentioned “rhythm”, just the word in a different context. Or was it the same context… You all, who visit and comment on this blog, have become so valuable to me, such a source of immense inspiration. And as it comes, strolling over you latest entries, I found exactly what I needed. Small pieces suddenly fitting together. Honest, straightforward words. I am so incredibly humbled to have found you out there. Often, you make my day.

C.G. Jung calls it Synchronicity, when you tune yourself in to a certain vibration, you start attracting just what you need to make your picture become complete. Or at least, to get a broader view at things. It’s the Law of Attraction kicking in.

Let’s spread the good news. Overwhelming Podcasts on Yoga and Zen, all courtesy of YogaGuide, together with this amazing post.

Wise and humbling, but also ultimately amusing words by Gartenfische.

As we well know, being able to laugh at yourself, being able to acknowledge your own weaknesses with a grin, is a virtue, which makes life so much more bearable.

Thank you for being there for me, at the right moment, with the right words.  I’m feeling all better now. I’ll have my rest and gather strength to go on. Because RPP is much better that exhaustion. The effort you need to make to overcome exhaustion is such a superfluous thing. A steady pace, which comes naturally, seems much more sensible to me in the long run.

The list of things I’m not afraid of is definitely going to be shorter than a list of all my fears. Talking to strangers on the phone, for one. I’ve been really challenged lately. First, I had lots of paperwork to do for the insurance company, which included repeated calls and e-mail exchange with my former university, leading to a certificate, stating that my name is not my name and I am of a different nationality. Whatever. Some more phonecalls and e-mails later they got it right. Then I had to meet an extremely nice (just kiddin’) employee of the insurance company to certify I had no pending financial obligations.

Now I need to cross the whole city again to pick up a form and then chose a primary care doctor. Involving more phone calls to strangers than I’ve had in my whole life previously. Each one of these takes half a day, because I only need 3 hours to gather all my courage. Then I will stammer my name and request. Two and a half minutes later I will hang up the phone, relieved.

I don’t know what it is about talking to strangers on the phone, which gives me the creeps. I’m a pretty social person, I communicate nicely, although it’s always somewhat of a challenge, since I want to display myself to the best advantage. Which leads to displaying a serious amount of stupidity, anyway. But it’s the crippling sensation of talking to a bodiless ghost, a person I cannot control. I cannot look them in the eyes and be all Miss Charming. I cannot act like a helpless puppy and make them treat me all nice.

So, much to the surprise of my darling man, it took me over 3 hours to finally call his primary care doctor and make an appointment. He didn’t help much, though, constantly asking “Did you call her yet?”. As if.

(… to be continued…)

“How come you walk around and bump into things, but when you swim, you have the gracefulness of a nymph?”

When I go for a swim, the moment I leave behind the beach, kids running around, parents chasing them with the sunscreen, the moment I leave behind the shallows and enter the depths of sea, everything, every thing, fades away.

I am at a loss of words to describe, but for the time being, all was good.

I slipped and fell in the bathroom. What is wrong with me? How am I supposed to intubate tiny little tracheas with a f*ckin’ laryngoscope, when I can’t even hold scissors and not cripple myself. Ok, I’ve already done the intubation thing. I never messed up badly. But still, most of the time I’m breathless with fear.

I hate change. I keep convincing myself that change is really good for me, but it makes me wanna scream. I like having a plan of the days to come. This year, I have already accepted that there will be no vacation for me. I won’t see the sea. I won’t lie in the sun or go for a swim. This was already hard enough on me. I cried, I had a meltdown, but eventually I had to accept that we just don’t have the money and I don’t have the time. So I swallowed hard and put up with it.

Now, how do you think I would react to a suggestion like “Let’s travel to the sea over the weekend”? Right, it’s pure panic. I can’t just pack my bag and go, because I HAVE THINGS TO DO. I have stuff to learn. I have doctor’s appointments. I have to sign the contract. We have not become miraculously rich. There is enough change in my life already. I can’t bear any more of this.

I’ve become a bit oversensitive to other people’s voices, to sharing a space with strangers, like, let’s say, a train or a bus. It makes me uncomfortable. It makes me wanna scream and hide. It’s too much input at the moment and I think I may burst. Being a university student was good. I knew what I had to do. I had to study, I had to pass those exams, than I would come home, pack my bag and explore the world. But back than I was on vacation. I was free. Life went by at its usual pace. It felt a safe place to be.

Growing up makes me wanna curl up in the embryo pose and scream a bit.

Running up the staircase to the 9th floor in a hypoglycemic rush for ice dream accounts as sports? No? I’d think so.

After several hours of sitting in bed, underlining important facts about children’s diseases with three different colours of neon markers, none of them yellow,  my immobile body squirmed and ordered GET. ON. THAT. MAT. NOW!!!

And I obeyed. Even if only remaining in a pose for a fleeting minute or two, I ran through my whole routine.

I seem to have adopted resistance as a basic method of copying. It’s a way of holding back, closing up, protecting myself. I just don’t know when exactly it took over my whole attitude towards life. My brain can’t seem to make the difference when to hold back and when to embrace the new. I’ll have to rely on my body to remind me of its needs. And to be persistent (read: annoying) enough to overcome resistance.

I bruise easily. I have weak connective tissue or something. You poke me, I get a bruise immediately. Which wouldn’t be a problem at all, since at the tender age of twenty-six, noone is poking me at a regular rate anymore, nor do I get in the crossfire of my brothers’ pretend play anymore, where they pretend to be the Ninja Turtles.

And still I am always embellished by bruises at a different stage. There are the almost black ones, the purple ones, the fading away greenish and yellow ones. Dress me in a skirt, I look like Pippi Longstocking, who fell of her horse.

I bump into things. Absent-mindedly I run against door-frames, walls and various pieces of furniture. I don’t even notice, unless I find a new bruise. After years of exercise, my gross motor skills are still rather weak. Most of the time I feel like Nearly Headless Nick, or to be precise Nearly Bodiless. I have a brain, which I’m extremely aware of. Then, if I don’t focus hard, there’s no body attached to it. I’m a mind afloat in space. Now, how cool is that. Yeah, not at all.

This is why yoga makes me feel better, it sharpens my senses, it shifts my awareness to bodyparts that I never even knew existed.

Yesterday I went on a walk with S. and his Golden Retriever. She’s 7 months old and as adorable as chocolate cake! We were strolling uphill and I was talking, when he asked, “Why are you out of breath?”

Something must be done.

How do you motivate yourselves to get on that mat?

It should be a no-brainer, like Gartenfische wrote:  I practice, I feel good, I don’t practice I don’t feel good, therefore. . . . But no.

Why am I resisting what is good for me?

I thought I was getting over that whole “I like to feel miserable and complain about it”-thing…