Month: September 2018

Being a Teacher

I watched tonight a lecture from Yogi Bhajan on the matter of being a Teacher, as part of my yoga teacher training.

It really got to me, down deep and all throughout…

The meditation at the end was 11 minutes of a certain exercise and mantra, which began as easy and became very difficult by the end of it (as is often the case)….

… but I broke down in tears for the first few minutes of the meditation, as my body and mind began to process further and to accept what Yogi Bhajan had said in the lecture.

It was so powerful for me, I think, because I am not only just doing this yoga teacher training, but have found myself already being a school teacher these past several years… I am not just here to be a yoga teacher, it seems, but to be a Teacher through and through.

And that scared me.

I think it still does.

Post-a-day 2018

But I love to sleep

It’s almost midnight, and I’m waking up at 3:40am…

My Sunday went from too much to empty relaxation to beautiful difficulty and relaxation.

Actually, today was quite similar…, I just wish now that it had wrapped things up sooner this evening, so I could have slept some more tonight.

Perhaps I can nap tomorrow.

(Mmm, naps…)

So, it’s a total yikes for tomorrow, but I expect it to be really good, and on many accounts.

Post-a-day 2018

Sleep

The importance of sleep has never evaded me…

I just forget about it from time to time.

And then I am brutally reminded of it in situations like tonight, when I am practically breaking down in tears over my first assignment in grad school, which happens to be one that really is not a big deal, but that I just dislike and don’t want to do, and my tired brain cannot cope with the task at hand combined with exhaustion and dislike and rustiness of subject.

Sleep is a blessing, and withholding it (i.e. not being responsible about it to where I have enough of it) is somewhat self-destructive.

Post-a-day 2018

Freshly Sliced

I am the epitome of sliced white bread, as I enter campus.  I have on my dance top and shorts and my hipster tie-dye Oakley sunglasses.  I am eating a Trader Joe’s snack bar and holding a large bottle of cold Trader Joe’s electrolyte water, and am walking with a cool green backpack on my back, and my dirty blonde hair in a messy bun on top of my head.

Two black guys are walking towards me.  The larger of the two, a very large and very dark guy, asks me how I’m doing and what I do here.  I tell him that I go to school.  He asks if I do any sports or anything, because I look like I do long-distance running; I look very thin and fit.  I say that I did.  He says that ‘you see there, I was right – you look like it’.  I notice that I’m also wearing running shoes – the ones I used to wear for all my walking and bike riding at my Japan job – and that I haven’t just been doing exercise, despite my complete outfit for it.  He hands me a flyer while saying that they hope I can join them on the 20th, and then I continue onward.  Based on the flyer, it looks like some sort of DJ dance party with stereotypical black advertising and expected attendees.  Not that I’m opposed to the party, but I’m not exactly the target audience of the flyer, making it surprising that this guy would have stopped to invite me…I mean, did he see me?  Again, not opposed to it.  I’m in full support of it.  I’m just a little surprised by it.  However, I recall that this is a college campus, so they’re probably inviting just about any girl they can find (who doesn’t look like a total nerd, that is), and my surprise lessens significantly.

After a few hundred yards of walking onward, I see what I originally think is a dead snake on the ground.  As I approach it, I see that it is a strand of weave, of false hair.  A gurgling chuckle rises within me.  This is definitely not my typical territory, and I feel as though my thoughts of being stereotypical white bread have just been proven by my surroundings of very much black culture  – not to mention the fact that almost everyone I can see is black to some degree – showing up in stark contrast to me.

And then I remember that I also am wearing a drape-y scarf, despite the fact that it is still technically summertime.  I’m even more white bread than I had thought.

Post-a-day 2018

Dirty Dancing Magic

Have you ever seen the film “Crazy, Stupid, Love”, with Ryan Gosling and Steve Carell (among other familiar faces)?  (If you haven’t, you can watch it on Netflix!)  ***If you don’t want anything ruined from the movie, do not read this next part.***  Remember the scene where Emma Stone’s character asks Ryan Gosling’s what his line is for getting girls to sleep with him?  So, he finally comes out with the fact that he does the “Dirty Dancing” lift.  She doesn’t believe him, but they do the lift anyway, and, of course, she totally falls for him at the end of the lift.

So, why is this relevant?

You see, I do acro-yoga – at least, I have re-started doing acro-yoga again, after a three-ish-year break.  The other night, at a sort of practice/hangout session (called a “jam”), one of the guys offered to test out a certain standing lift with me.  It was not the most basic option, so we agreed to do the simpler option first.  And what was that option?  The “Dirty Dancing” lift.

It definitely takes effort from both parties to make it work properly, so the “Crazy, Stupid, Love” version makes it look too simple.  “Dirty Dancing” is definitely closer to the kind of effort it actually would take a newbie flyer/follow to pull off the lift.  I’ve done lifts in dance routines before, and even a throw/toss, so I’m practiced in the concept of lifts, but I’ve never done that particular lift in a routine.  Anyway, so it took a few almosts, and then we had the lift down perfectly.

And it felt like flying… or something.  I’ve never actually flown (I think), so I can’t actually compare anything to flying, but it definitely felt magical and like I was more than just physically ‘above’ everything around me – I felt like I was on a higher plane of life.  And, of course, that I was utterly beautiful in this specific position, muscles flexed beautifully, like a fairy zooming overhead.

And this guy helped me to be in this position – it was because of him that I was in such a place of wonder and beauty…. I suddenly totally could get why girls would want to ravish the guy who did that lift with them.  Fortunately, I knew the guy and the general activity well enough to keep him and the actual task separate from one another in my head.  Otherwise, I would have been a total mess full of goo-goo eyes for him for weeks.  But I fully understood what could be so attractive, so sexy, so desirable about doing that lift.  I mean, how often do people normally put me into a place of magical wonder, and make me feel more beautiful than the whole world?  (Perhaps your life is different from mine, but I’ll let you know: It is extremely rare for me.)  😛

That being said, I have two things: 1) Totally try out acro-yoga, because it’s a blast and is totally easy, even if you aren’t super fit or anything.  2) I recommend giving the “Dirty Dancing” lift a try at some point in your life, guy or girl, because it is magical and awesome (as I have already mentioned multiple times).  🙂

Post-a-day 2018

Never settle…?

My family is so amazing, I wish they lived closer together and to me… no one compares to them and to our relationships with one another.

It’s no wonder I always feel like I have almost no friends – none are the kind of friendships I really seek, ones like the bonds with my family members… and the few who are close like family, mostly live extremely far away, not even in a neighboring state (let alone country for some).

It seems I’ve really taken the whole ‘never settle in life’ concept seriously – it’s either spectacular friends or no friends.

But is that really best?

Post-a-day 2018