It seems like everyday I wake up wondering what's going to be important for that particular day. And for awhile, I hestitated about writing about the newly elected Barack Obama, because most of me didn't even know what to say.
A couple of days after the election my aunt e-mailed some writings about her husband's death over three years ago. She wrote a hello and horay! for Obama and also attached some writings she thought I would enjoy. In her e-mail was the mention of a New York Times article on Albany, Georgia's celebration of Obama's victory.
I remember hearing about Barack Obama years ago from my dear friends who live in Chicago, how political consultants had told him to change at least part of his name in order to be remembered by the United States public. How inspired they had been by all he had done in Chicago. And how far I felt we needed to go in order have him actually elected as president. Actually, elected.
I think I was about twelve when my uncle confessed he had been arrested. In Albany, Georgia, he said. Like my young mind knew much about the civil rights movement and protesting and standing up for what is right. But over time I've learned the impact it's all had on everything. My aunt mentioned how much she wished my uncle had lived to see November 4th.
A couple of weeks ago I printed off my aunt's writings to read and placed them in my bag where I keep all my students papers and yoga books. And tonight, when I was all ready to play around on the internet for hours, I pulled out her writings and began to read. And it was so nice. She was finally sharing how she felt with me. Her writings are honest and refreshing.
I don't know if I'll ever really understand where my immediate family is coming from. I do know that all of these bits and pieces that I am collecting will someday come together to make sense. They have to.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
Dear Barack Obama,
I love the feeling of you being President. You are the same skin color black & white. Guess what else? We were both raised by our mom and didn't get to see our dad. We also have grandparent's who have passed on now. I am still young I am ten years old I'm sorry for not introducing myself. You being president elect makes me feel like I can be president someday. Because I am not going to be able to vote for you if you run again but I can vote in two elections. Then when I am 35 I will run. You are going to be great I know. I believe in you. You can do it.
Signed, one of my friend's 5th grade students, Covington, Kentucky, 11/06/08.
Signed, one of my friend's 5th grade students, Covington, Kentucky, 11/06/08.
Friday, October 24, 2008
GO GO GO!
It’s one of those rainy-cold days in Asheville, those days I used to daydream of when it hadn’t rained in months in Las Vegas. It’s all dark and gloomy outside and my office is cave-like today, keeping itself rounded against the rain.
I’m a student again, now. Yoga teacher training started last weekend and really it’s the beginning of something that will never end. And I really like it that way. We all lined up our sticky mats and blankets and learned about anatomy and yoga politics and downdog. At the end of the weekend I didn’t feel like a new person, but at the start of a new journey. Because it’s all one journey after another. Because this is why I moved to Asheville.
Carving out time to practice and meditate daily and read all the yoga books that are out there can be challenging. Sometimes it feels like everything is a means to an end rather than what’s in the moment. I find myself wishing the day away and then not being able to be present on my yoga mat. And that’s what it’s all about, right? Being present in the moment and creating that peace within…
Everyday we dedicate our practice to something. Whether it be to ourselves for healing or some higher power. Because in yoga, god is everything and everywhere. It’s whoever and whatever you want it to be. It transfers through languages and cultures. It recreates the idea of your world. When I was in Las Vegas healing a broken heart, I dedicated my practice to him everyday. And even though we weren’t talking at that point, and things seemed worse than they had ever been, I was finding peace within myself and sending it across the country to him. Because ever since I realized I loved him I couldn’t go back. That love radiated and for awhile, neither of us knew how to handle it. And when you finally do, it is amazing.
Obama spoke in Leesburg a few days ago and my mom e-mailed me that she was thinking about going. I wrote back GO GO GO! Now is the time to GO! When I asked her how it was she e-mailed me that they got there kind of late so he was already speaking but that it went well. Then she mentioned that she and my dad signed up for a yoga class together at the local recreation center. That they were trying to get some friends of theirs to join them.
There are many ways to heal the heart. People travel or meditate and do yoga. Sometimes it takes an amazing conversation over coffee or screaming in your car while driving home from a long day at work. Some people drink themselves silly or write everything out until their hands are sore. For me, it was getting that e-mail.
I’m a student again, now. Yoga teacher training started last weekend and really it’s the beginning of something that will never end. And I really like it that way. We all lined up our sticky mats and blankets and learned about anatomy and yoga politics and downdog. At the end of the weekend I didn’t feel like a new person, but at the start of a new journey. Because it’s all one journey after another. Because this is why I moved to Asheville.
Carving out time to practice and meditate daily and read all the yoga books that are out there can be challenging. Sometimes it feels like everything is a means to an end rather than what’s in the moment. I find myself wishing the day away and then not being able to be present on my yoga mat. And that’s what it’s all about, right? Being present in the moment and creating that peace within…
Everyday we dedicate our practice to something. Whether it be to ourselves for healing or some higher power. Because in yoga, god is everything and everywhere. It’s whoever and whatever you want it to be. It transfers through languages and cultures. It recreates the idea of your world. When I was in Las Vegas healing a broken heart, I dedicated my practice to him everyday. And even though we weren’t talking at that point, and things seemed worse than they had ever been, I was finding peace within myself and sending it across the country to him. Because ever since I realized I loved him I couldn’t go back. That love radiated and for awhile, neither of us knew how to handle it. And when you finally do, it is amazing.
Obama spoke in Leesburg a few days ago and my mom e-mailed me that she was thinking about going. I wrote back GO GO GO! Now is the time to GO! When I asked her how it was she e-mailed me that they got there kind of late so he was already speaking but that it went well. Then she mentioned that she and my dad signed up for a yoga class together at the local recreation center. That they were trying to get some friends of theirs to join them.
There are many ways to heal the heart. People travel or meditate and do yoga. Sometimes it takes an amazing conversation over coffee or screaming in your car while driving home from a long day at work. Some people drink themselves silly or write everything out until their hands are sore. For me, it was getting that e-mail.
Monday, October 13, 2008
I Mean Silly Awesome Great and Gay
If I were sixteen, I would be jumping up and down with them. My feet would be sinking deep into the floor as it stretched below me. And the smile on my face wouldn’t be so hidden by adulthood and awkwardness. Because when you see Of Montreal in concert, there’s a little kid in you that can’t help but dance.
And today I’m tired. But I can’t help but think about how hilarious it is that my best friend woke up to a Jesus fish carved into the side of her green jeep. And that she noticed it on the way to the vet to make sure her cat Delicious was okay. And that now the cat has a cone on her head and keeps running into the wall at her apartment.
After the lead singer of Of Montreal (they are from Athens, GA) dressed in nothing but tight, gold shorts, was painted all red, and then came out in a box covered in foam, he called out: thank you for letting us be ourselves. And it sounds so fucking corny but I really loved it.
I hadn’t been in one place where so many people were so happy and full of energy in a long time. I’m getting a little too used to my day-to-day work and yoga mode where I find myself hidden in lunch breaks in my office and singing in the car on the way from one school to the next. And on top of it all I am starting to freelance career counsel here in Asheville. Because the idea of creating my own career has always appealed to me I’ve just never had the guts to do it.
And even when things aren’t beginning to slow down and I start my yoga teacher training a week from tomorrow, I know that it’s all meant to be chaos. Folded on top of each other and around and never knowing when anything is going to end. And every time I try to stop this motion it cuts me short like a revolving door. Like I should just step in and go, instead of fearfully sticking my fingers out only to get slammed back into me.
And all I can picture is my best friend’s cat in her tiny apartment in LA running around that hardwood floor and sliding into the walls. And then just bouncing right off and back up onto her feet. And it’s hilarious.
Thank you, Delicious, for being yourself.
And today I’m tired. But I can’t help but think about how hilarious it is that my best friend woke up to a Jesus fish carved into the side of her green jeep. And that she noticed it on the way to the vet to make sure her cat Delicious was okay. And that now the cat has a cone on her head and keeps running into the wall at her apartment.
After the lead singer of Of Montreal (they are from Athens, GA) dressed in nothing but tight, gold shorts, was painted all red, and then came out in a box covered in foam, he called out: thank you for letting us be ourselves. And it sounds so fucking corny but I really loved it.
I hadn’t been in one place where so many people were so happy and full of energy in a long time. I’m getting a little too used to my day-to-day work and yoga mode where I find myself hidden in lunch breaks in my office and singing in the car on the way from one school to the next. And on top of it all I am starting to freelance career counsel here in Asheville. Because the idea of creating my own career has always appealed to me I’ve just never had the guts to do it.
And even when things aren’t beginning to slow down and I start my yoga teacher training a week from tomorrow, I know that it’s all meant to be chaos. Folded on top of each other and around and never knowing when anything is going to end. And every time I try to stop this motion it cuts me short like a revolving door. Like I should just step in and go, instead of fearfully sticking my fingers out only to get slammed back into me.
And all I can picture is my best friend’s cat in her tiny apartment in LA running around that hardwood floor and sliding into the walls. And then just bouncing right off and back up onto her feet. And it’s hilarious.
Thank you, Delicious, for being yourself.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Out of Gas
I like myself. I like myself. I like myself. I like myself. I was talking with a friend from Las Vegas last week about how recently I’ve felt really negative. That when I go to yoga I’m only scratching the surface rather than digging in deep. I told him that I was missing Las Vegas and yoga and that hot desert heat.
My classes are cancelled at the local community college here and I’m walking to work at my second job for the rest of the week. It’ll be about a 45 minute walk and I plan on doing a lot of thinking. I’m looking forward to it. Because even though my gas gauge is at about a quarter of a tank and the gas shortage in this area is supposed to clear up by early next week, I figured I would take advantage of a crisis.
In Boston, I used to take the T and walk 20 minutes to work. I’d put my IPod on and listen to music and think about my day. It was nice and refreshing. And now in Asheville it’s officially fall and even the trees are starting to change. And I like being back in that place.
My friend from Las Vegas sent me some motivational CD’s that we listened to as part of training at lululemon. He’s recently re-listened to them and talking to him made me realize what a slump I’ve been in lately. How I need to move and stretch my way out of it. I feel terrific. I feel terrific. I feel terrific.
The truth is, with yoga teacher training in three weeks, and my classes going really well and my career counseling picking back up again, I feel like the world is in a great place. And every time I think about what’s going on outside my mountain bubble, I want to pass what I’m thinking on to them. At least, that’s how I want to believe things are going. And as a result, that’s the truth of how they are going.
Seeing Obama speak in Charlotte this past weekend while visiting him gave me hope again. Even though all weekend I wrestled the idea of another long distance relationship, of driving down the mountain to see him and knowing things are amazing and that we’ve worked our differences out (even though I love a good fight), my habits take shape underneath it all and I can’t help but feel anxious about things. And maybe it’s because my parents haven’t e-mailed me or called since I’ve told them the news, or maybe it’s just an old habit that I tell myself. Because even when you know you deserve love, it doesn’t always feel great when you have to constantly explain yourself to your family. To realize that they’ve never really trusted you to make your own decisions. It’s isolating.
Everyday is new. And what I moved here for, what I’ve been looking forward to, is finally coming up in three weeks. In my yoga classes I keep concentrating on my hips (where emotions are stored), thinking that if I let it out in class that I won’t have to deal with it later. That as soon as I work on my tight hips I’ll be able to have a better relationship with my family. That working on changing that attitude will change things. It’ll open things up…
My classes are cancelled at the local community college here and I’m walking to work at my second job for the rest of the week. It’ll be about a 45 minute walk and I plan on doing a lot of thinking. I’m looking forward to it. Because even though my gas gauge is at about a quarter of a tank and the gas shortage in this area is supposed to clear up by early next week, I figured I would take advantage of a crisis.
In Boston, I used to take the T and walk 20 minutes to work. I’d put my IPod on and listen to music and think about my day. It was nice and refreshing. And now in Asheville it’s officially fall and even the trees are starting to change. And I like being back in that place.
My friend from Las Vegas sent me some motivational CD’s that we listened to as part of training at lululemon. He’s recently re-listened to them and talking to him made me realize what a slump I’ve been in lately. How I need to move and stretch my way out of it. I feel terrific. I feel terrific. I feel terrific.
The truth is, with yoga teacher training in three weeks, and my classes going really well and my career counseling picking back up again, I feel like the world is in a great place. And every time I think about what’s going on outside my mountain bubble, I want to pass what I’m thinking on to them. At least, that’s how I want to believe things are going. And as a result, that’s the truth of how they are going.
Seeing Obama speak in Charlotte this past weekend while visiting him gave me hope again. Even though all weekend I wrestled the idea of another long distance relationship, of driving down the mountain to see him and knowing things are amazing and that we’ve worked our differences out (even though I love a good fight), my habits take shape underneath it all and I can’t help but feel anxious about things. And maybe it’s because my parents haven’t e-mailed me or called since I’ve told them the news, or maybe it’s just an old habit that I tell myself. Because even when you know you deserve love, it doesn’t always feel great when you have to constantly explain yourself to your family. To realize that they’ve never really trusted you to make your own decisions. It’s isolating.
Everyday is new. And what I moved here for, what I’ve been looking forward to, is finally coming up in three weeks. In my yoga classes I keep concentrating on my hips (where emotions are stored), thinking that if I let it out in class that I won’t have to deal with it later. That as soon as I work on my tight hips I’ll be able to have a better relationship with my family. That working on changing that attitude will change things. It’ll open things up…
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