Boyfriends, Partners, and Housemates

Tonight, I taught my first official totally solo yoga class.

Through a series of events involving the teacher suddenly being unable to teach and her not being able to find a sub, I ended up being the sub for the class.

I spent close to an hour preparing everything for class and myself, and then headed downstairs and taught a great class.

I messed up the same little thing I’d messed up in the past with classes, but I noticed it within possibly one minute of my having made the error, and, though it was too late to do anything about it, the fact that I noticed it son immediately is something that I consider, in its way, a win.

Being oblivious to my errors would have been loads worse of a situation.

Fortunately, I noticed it, and almost immediately.

Even with that, the class went really well.

And I actually enjoyed myself.

I wish I had had more time to prepare, but I used the time I had available to me, and I created and taught a great class.

Everyone left in a very positive state of mind, with a sort of cozy smile on each of their faces… gratitude for my teaching.

There was one new person who left right after class ended, and so I wasn’t able to gauge her experience so much… and that might rest in my mind a while…, but I know it is okay and everything was perfect exactly how it happened.

If she did not like the class, then she was meant not to like the class tonight – it does not mean that I am a bad, unlovable person.

It means I was meant to do exactly what I did, and there is something for us all to get out of the experience… just as it would mean if she had totally loved the class.


Oh, I also earned some money by doing this class, which was a delightful and much-appreciated financial bonus.

Sharing all of this is great.

And I really wanted to share it with someone I know…, but I don’t have a someone who listens to all of my sharing and talking… I don’t have someone who wants specifically to hear from me about these many things in my life… I do not have a partner, a someone special, a boyfriend…., or even housemates…

And it left me feeling rather overly spacious tonight, spread out, solo in a group culture… alone.

And not necessarily in a positive way.

So, I figured I would share here – just like how I learned the value of a diary – someone always willing and desiring to hear my every thought and word, if I wish to share them – I can see that this space of sharing and writing is a space that is always waiting and open and interested in what is on my mind… even if I have no one concrete with whom to share…


Post-a-day 2019

Gal Pals

In a comical and slightly intoxicated – truly only slightly on the one side, and then sober on the listening side – conversation between two girls (women) this past weekend, I heard the following line, delivered slightly like a five year old’s declaration of wanting her own birthday cake at someone else’s birthday party, from the girl who has a boyfriend:

I want a boyfriend who does the sex to me every day.

She then proceeded to say, “I really do,” in an effort to convince the sober, single friend who was laughing deeply beside her.

And no, English was not a foreign language for either – they were all too clearly native English speakers.

I think that’s part of what makes the silly statement so wonderful.

I am still laughing at the whole thing today, days after the fact, it was so odd and goofy…


Post-a-day 2019

Pants at home

Tonight, a few friends and I got on the subject of housemates and the comfort of being pant-less at home (US pants, not British, of course).  It reminded me of my first flatmate.  When we lived together, it was a quickly-known thing that I ditched my pants almost immediately after I walked in the door after work.

Truly. ¬†It was part of my ‘arriving home’ routine, really. ¬†I would walk in the door (and shut it, of course), set down my stuff, take off my shoes, shove off my pants, toss them to the side, and then put my shoes on the shoe rack. ¬†Some days, I even would collapse forward onto the carpet after the pants-removal step, and sigh with exhaustion and relief. ¬† We live in Houston. ¬†It gets hot here, but the insides of buildings do not. ¬†At my job at that time, my classroom was guaranteed winter temperatures, so I was extra overdressed for the outside weather. ¬†Sometimes, I would be more peeling off my pants than sliding them off of me, it was so hot outside.

Since it was a well-known fact that I was pant-less almost the instant I arrived home each day, slight precautions were taken. ¬†One day, I received a message from my flatmate’s boyfriend, asking if I were home. ¬†He said that he was told he should text me before coming over, because I might not have any pants on. ¬†I think I let him know that I was home and all was appropriately dressed. ¬†He then added that perhaps he should have just¬†not asked, and just shown up and caught me off guard. ¬†I chuckled hard at that one. I knew it was a joke, and he knew that I would understand it to be, so the comment was actually quite funny, instead of terrible, as almost any other person in the world would have caused it to be.

Thinking about all of this tonight had me notice how rarely I am pant-less nowadays. ¬†I guess I’m just not so hot outside anymore, that I want to strip the moment I arrive home. I also have little space of my own, in which I am even able to be pant-less. ¬†Though, I don’t recall being without pants/shorts very often in Japan… ¬†You know, I think I have moved to a slightly different style of pants/pant fit. ¬†The other bits are valid, too, to a certain degree, but so is this one. ¬†I found a pair of pants that I used to wear to school, and wore them tonight. ¬†It was warm out, but not hot. ¬†I remember peeling off these guys regularly in the afternoons. ¬†Yet, now, I can hardly imagine being¬†able to peel them off, they are so loose on me. ¬†Have they stretched with the aging of sitting around? ¬†Have I lost weight in my legs? ¬†Both? ¬†This would not be the first pair of pants that has seemed oddly large on my legs lately, however, I still weigh what I have weight the past two-ish years. ¬†And I haven’t done enough exercise since moving back (I¬†think, anyway) to have had such an impact on my body yet… have I? ¬†I don’t know, but, if I am losing fat in my legs, it’s for the better – my body needs it. ¬†Now just to trade that loss of fat with some gain of muscle and tone.

Anyway… this has gone a bit of a ways from being pant-less at home. ¬†I will leave this open for further consideration, and I will go to sleep now. ¬†Goodnight, world. ¬†Sweet breathing.

Post-a-day 2017

Trading Good for Great

One of the hardest things for me in life is giving up something good. ¬†And I don’t mean just giving it up, in any sense. ¬†I think I really mean giving up something good, when the only purpose is to make space for something better. ¬†‘What I already have is wonderful. ¬†Why do I want to give it up, and risk having nothing in the end?’ ¬†For whatever reason, I believe that a sort of fairy tale is in progress in my life. ¬†Anything is possible, and I am determined to have an amazing life. ¬†Perhaps I have a separate sense for this kind of feeling, and perhaps I’m just filled with a sort of wishful thinking, likely inspired by film and novels. ¬†(Pride and Prejudice¬†is one of my favorite books, after all.) ¬†I don’t know. ¬†I do know, however, that every time I have let go of something that has been “good” or less, something better has just shown up for me. ¬†The newer, better something is almost effortless in having it become part of my life. ¬†The hard part is letting go of the former, not-as-good something.

For clarity, imagine, well I don’t know right now. ¬†I can’t seem to think of anything specific from my life right now. ¬†(I am rather exhausted from having stayed up late for a friend who needed a place to stay last night, and then ending up chatting together, catching up, until way into the morning hours of nighttime. ¬†It was great finally seeing this particular friend again, but it has left me wiped tonight!) ¬†Well, let’s talk generally, then, on a common matter. ¬†Just watched Sleepless in Seattle again. ¬†If she had stayed with her wonderful Walter, life would have been nice; she could have gotten on just finely with her Walter for the rest of her days. ¬†But, she had a sense of there being something more, something even better than her Walter out there for her. ¬†By letting go of her Walter, she created the space in her life for Sam. ¬†And, frankly, it seems Annie and Sam were MFEO (made for each other), just as the young children had somewhat declared. ¬†So, Annie let go of something good, and something spectacular arrived in the space created by Walter’s departure from Annie.

Does that make better sense? ¬†I think it’s still iffy on my description tonight, but we’ll let it stand for now, so I can go to sleep. ¬†ūüėõ

Anyway, I’m terrified to let go of what I know is not the best for me, but that is currently “good” and “decent” for me in my life. ¬†Absolutely terrified. ¬†And I know that I must first let go of it, in order to create the space for something amazing to come along. ¬†Deep breath, Hannah. ¬†Deep breath. ¬†ūüôā


Post-a-day 2017

A Memory

Shortly after I turned 18, my mom and I went to stay at my aunt’s house (perhaps for a weekend or something), which is in a small town about two hours outside of our city, and in the semi-middle-of-nowhere.

My cousin Shawn, who is not quite a year older than I am and was/is also my Confirmation sponsor, decided for us to go out for a bit, late one night.  He was reminded of the fact that I had recently turned 18, and so declared that we needed to have cigars to celebrate.  I shared my being not into it, but went along to the gas station, where he bought two small cigars (which smelled nice, actually).

We ended up at a park down the street, play complex and all, and I don’t remember if Shawn smoked his cigar or not, but I know that I did not smoke mine, and ended up just giving it back to him. ¬†Nonetheless, we hung out at the park for a couple hours, I recall, just walking around, talking as we played on the various playsets. ¬†I remember specifically mentioning how I loved that Jesus has fabulous grammar in the Bible (I think it was as I was walking across the shaky bridge thing, and then slid down a pole at the end). ¬†Somewhere, I had been discussing with girlfriends the idea of husbands and boyfriends and such, and we had come to the idea that Jesus just needs to be a real person right now, so he can be one of our boyfriends. ¬†And I just loved that he had perfect grammar (at least from what I recalled having read), making me wish even more that he could be my man. ¬†Haha.

So these are the kinds of things I did with my cousins growing up.  Harmless, somewhat silly activities, filled with goofy yet incredibly honest and open conversation.  I miss Shawn a lot, and all the ridiculous love he has to share (and shares) with the world.

He’ll be in India for a while soon. ¬†Just a fun fact. ¬†ūüôā


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