I woke up very early today. 7:30 am for a Saturday? That's early. But I was wide awake. Cleaned my room, organized my closet, and STILL had an hour before I needed to be at my 10 am yoga class.
I decided to do something I ALWAYS wish I have time for but never actually DO have time for. Sit in a cafe and read. Yes! I'll take my book, sit in a cafe, read a little, get some mind stimulus before I cleanse my body and my spirit through my yoga practice. Proud of this decision, I set off to Pillow, a cute cafe down the street. I'll even have something civilized like a decaf latte while I read. Maybe even some fruit. So civilized.
Dreams get crushed as I see a thick chain round the blue gates of Pillow Cafe. Shoot! There isn't another cafe for blocks. I don't have much time.
I keep walking. And then the smell hits my nostrils and the sound fills my ears. It's the greasy Mexican food smell of my Tucsonian childhood. The mariachi music that would fill my ears as we all crammed into Losbeto's late at night for nachos after a night at the clubs. I walk in and it's all there. The colorful blankets strewn about, the posters on the wall announcing a 5,000 dollar reward for the arrest of Francisco Pancho Villa, and the smell of tortillas and refried beans. Blinded by nostalgia, I barely notice the large yoga mat tucked under my arm as I find a seat. Before I know it I have ordered the Huevos Rancheros and my mouth waters as the chile verde enters my mouth.
It is only then that I realize what a completely bad idea this actually was. In 45 minutes I'd be doing downward dog and Lord KNOWS that beans and cheese are not a good combination for any kind of bodily cleansing.
As I made my way to yoga my belly hurt. And I spent most of my yoga hour praying that I don't get sick rather than focussing on how far my body could stretch or long I could hold a pose.
Ya, huevos rancheros and yoga - not a good combo. But it was damn good.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Preparation.
It's this strange time of year dangling between the humid heat of summer and the harsh winter months to come.
The leaves change - bright yellows, reds, and orange. And there is the smell of apple cider in the air, everywhere. Hot apple cider and cider donuts. Hay rides. Pumpkins. Apples.
And just plain cold.
I don't know how it happened. I feel like it just suddenly changed. All of sudden it was like, well - hello winter chill!
I refuse to give in though. I refuse to believe that in October I have to wear a heavy coat. In fact, so much in denial am I that I spent all day today in sandals. Yup, covered every other inch of my body, but remained in sandals. Because, really? Who can accept that those days of summer are over? Who can accept that cold bitter winds are in store for the next 6 months!?!
I'm mentally preparing. This is me. Mentally preparing.
The leaves change - bright yellows, reds, and orange. And there is the smell of apple cider in the air, everywhere. Hot apple cider and cider donuts. Hay rides. Pumpkins. Apples.
And just plain cold.
I don't know how it happened. I feel like it just suddenly changed. All of sudden it was like, well - hello winter chill!
I refuse to give in though. I refuse to believe that in October I have to wear a heavy coat. In fact, so much in denial am I that I spent all day today in sandals. Yup, covered every other inch of my body, but remained in sandals. Because, really? Who can accept that those days of summer are over? Who can accept that cold bitter winds are in store for the next 6 months!?!
I'm mentally preparing. This is me. Mentally preparing.
Monday, August 31, 2009
a fledgling bike rider
I have not ridden a bike years. I mean literally, years. A few weeks ago I decided it was time to not only ride a bike, but become a bike owner. So my wonderful cousin built me a bike. The day I got it I tried to ride it and fell a bunch of times. Then I carried it up 3 flights of stairs and set it ever so neatly against the wall in my room. Knowing that I would eventually need to succumb and purchase all the necessary paraphernalia needed to own a bike in New York City, I began by finally buying a bike helmet last weekend. The heavy chain needed to lock my bike to posts around the borough will probably be the last of my purchases, and will only be done after I have convinced myself that I am, and will be, a biker in this City.
And today, determined to practice this thing that I used to do so effortlessly when I was 7, I carried that bike downstairs and got on it. At first, just getting going was hard for me. Making sure not to wobble too much because I could very well just get hit by a car. But today I did it. I got on, and I pedaled. And it was smoother than it has been.
And then I experienced the inclines of Brooklyn streets. They look so unassuming, all tree-lined and beautiful. Don't let that brownstone facade fool you. At one point I was going SO slow, and had such a pained expression on my face that the people zooming by on their bikes actually asked if I was OK. Ya, two of them. "You OK?!?" They yelled as I trudged on by. One guy passed me on his bike and was talking on the phone the whole time! I tried it. I lifted my hand up to my ear JUST to see if I could possibly ever do that. And, no. The answer to that was, no.
Although I should have come home feeling defeated - instead I felt proud. I was conquering my fears. Trying something new. It will take me a while to be, myself, zooming around the streets. But the fact that I'm trying is enough for me right now. It is nice having something so tangible to overcome.
I have to remember to tell my new incoming class this story. I think they would completely relate.
And today, determined to practice this thing that I used to do so effortlessly when I was 7, I carried that bike downstairs and got on it. At first, just getting going was hard for me. Making sure not to wobble too much because I could very well just get hit by a car. But today I did it. I got on, and I pedaled. And it was smoother than it has been.
And then I experienced the inclines of Brooklyn streets. They look so unassuming, all tree-lined and beautiful. Don't let that brownstone facade fool you. At one point I was going SO slow, and had such a pained expression on my face that the people zooming by on their bikes actually asked if I was OK. Ya, two of them. "You OK?!?" They yelled as I trudged on by. One guy passed me on his bike and was talking on the phone the whole time! I tried it. I lifted my hand up to my ear JUST to see if I could possibly ever do that. And, no. The answer to that was, no.
Although I should have come home feeling defeated - instead I felt proud. I was conquering my fears. Trying something new. It will take me a while to be, myself, zooming around the streets. But the fact that I'm trying is enough for me right now. It is nice having something so tangible to overcome.
I have to remember to tell my new incoming class this story. I think they would completely relate.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Lucy Caulkins is a well known figure in the education world. She created a philosophy for the teaching of reading and writing to children.
This morning she opened up the Reader's Workshop training with an address to the teachers, principals, learning specialists, superintendents, and all 700 of us who were gathered there to listen. I have to say, she is inspiring. Most of all because of her use of stories in illustrating a point. This morning she shared a story about her 88 year old mother. I tried to write down as much of the story as I could so as not to lose the meaning of it as told in her words and from her perspective, but it was difficult. She told it so well.
'My mother is a strong woman. One of the strongest women I know. So to see her age has been difficult.
The other day I was at my parents house and we were in the kitchen. She was lifting up a cup of water to put into the coffee maker. She missed it and the water spilled all over the floor. My father and I continued to talk, pretending that we didn't see what had just happened. Mom slowly walked over to the towels and and picked one up. As she did, it dropped. She kicked it all the way to the stove and then mopped it up using her feet. She tried again. Took another cup of water and lifted it up to put into the coffee maker. Her hand moved higher, higher up still, and then spill. All over the floor.
At this point we couldn't ignore the fact that my mother was having this difficulty. My father sprang to his feet. Rushed over to the coffee maker, yanked it out of the plug and proclaimed: I am sick of this thing. It never worked quite right. We are getting a new one!
And with that, he threw it away.
The next day there was a whole new coffee maker in the kitchen. One with a hole big enough that you couldn't miss.'
This is love.
This morning she opened up the Reader's Workshop training with an address to the teachers, principals, learning specialists, superintendents, and all 700 of us who were gathered there to listen. I have to say, she is inspiring. Most of all because of her use of stories in illustrating a point. This morning she shared a story about her 88 year old mother. I tried to write down as much of the story as I could so as not to lose the meaning of it as told in her words and from her perspective, but it was difficult. She told it so well.
'My mother is a strong woman. One of the strongest women I know. So to see her age has been difficult.
The other day I was at my parents house and we were in the kitchen. She was lifting up a cup of water to put into the coffee maker. She missed it and the water spilled all over the floor. My father and I continued to talk, pretending that we didn't see what had just happened. Mom slowly walked over to the towels and and picked one up. As she did, it dropped. She kicked it all the way to the stove and then mopped it up using her feet. She tried again. Took another cup of water and lifted it up to put into the coffee maker. Her hand moved higher, higher up still, and then spill. All over the floor.
At this point we couldn't ignore the fact that my mother was having this difficulty. My father sprang to his feet. Rushed over to the coffee maker, yanked it out of the plug and proclaimed: I am sick of this thing. It never worked quite right. We are getting a new one!
And with that, he threw it away.
The next day there was a whole new coffee maker in the kitchen. One with a hole big enough that you couldn't miss.'
This is love.
empathy
The word 'empathy' came up a lot today. Almost every hour actually. By different people. So I thought it worth while to explore.
Webster would define it as "the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another..."
One of the keynote speakers in a class I was in today described it as the ability to put yourself in another persons shoes and feel what they feel. Apparently a few years back at a commencement speech, when asked what his wish was for every college graduate, Obama stated, 'that they all have empathy'.
We are the only creatures on this planet that have the capacity for this emotion. And through conversation and reading and experiencing and being - we can feel it. It is what draws us all closer together. And what allows us to understand that we are, essentially, one.
Webster would define it as "the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another..."
One of the keynote speakers in a class I was in today described it as the ability to put yourself in another persons shoes and feel what they feel. Apparently a few years back at a commencement speech, when asked what his wish was for every college graduate, Obama stated, 'that they all have empathy'.
We are the only creatures on this planet that have the capacity for this emotion. And through conversation and reading and experiencing and being - we can feel it. It is what draws us all closer together. And what allows us to understand that we are, essentially, one.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
It was an awesome day in San Francisco. There were 5 of us in the car for most of the day. Some of the best people I know.
We saw sights, we ate good food, we had ice cream, we looked over the Golden Gate bridge.
Then we met up with more people. People who were not a part of our lives earlier in the week and all of a sudden we interacted as though we were family. As though we had known of each other all along. We laughed, we had a few serious discussions, we ate corn dogs. It was the kind of day you wish you had more often. And the kind of day that makes you extremely appreciative to have love.
We saw sights, we ate good food, we had ice cream, we looked over the Golden Gate bridge.
Then we met up with more people. People who were not a part of our lives earlier in the week and all of a sudden we interacted as though we were family. As though we had known of each other all along. We laughed, we had a few serious discussions, we ate corn dogs. It was the kind of day you wish you had more often. And the kind of day that makes you extremely appreciative to have love.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
air conditioner please!
Three weeks ago I was begging for an AC. Sweat poured out of parts of my body that I didn’t know could produce sweat. All I yearned for was 5 minutes with the air conditioner. So much so that my one conversation with my room mate from that remote island involved something along the lines of – can you just make sure the air conditioner is put into the window before I get home?
I sweat and sweat and sweat. I would talk to people all the while wondering how they could keep a straight face with sweat trickling down my face. However, I walked around in that heat almost unhesitatingly as my body slowly had grown accustomed to its new condition.
Two weeks back and I actually wake up in the middle of the night to turn off my AC off. The air it produces hurts my throat and dehydrates me. But I had wanted it so badly!
And now, I can’t even come close to bearing the heat like I used to. I walk outside and within moments I am complaining about the weather or agitated because it is so hot out; because I know that within moments I could again be in a cool, air conditioned room. My tolerance level has decreased. I have become way to dependent. All within a matter of weeks.
I sweat and sweat and sweat. I would talk to people all the while wondering how they could keep a straight face with sweat trickling down my face. However, I walked around in that heat almost unhesitatingly as my body slowly had grown accustomed to its new condition.
Two weeks back and I actually wake up in the middle of the night to turn off my AC off. The air it produces hurts my throat and dehydrates me. But I had wanted it so badly!
And now, I can’t even come close to bearing the heat like I used to. I walk outside and within moments I am complaining about the weather or agitated because it is so hot out; because I know that within moments I could again be in a cool, air conditioned room. My tolerance level has decreased. I have become way to dependent. All within a matter of weeks.
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