Bodies Change and I am Not My Body (rinse/repeat) and other Musings...

So as I was driving down the road yesterday I allowed a woman in a Buick LeSabre to turn in front of me, waving her along with a friendly smile and a "go ahead" hand gesture.  I immediately noticed her personalized license plate indicating its owner evidently had some basic core beliefs that were the polar opposite of mine. It triggered some little gears and wheels inside of my head...flashes of concepts of letting go, being open minded, compassionate, accepting, tolerant even.  The little message on the tag wasn't one of anger or hatred...it was a simple little flower with a two word statement, that actually, was I to dissect these two words, there was nothing controversial or seemingly negative about it.  Together, though, this two-word-yet-complete-sentence cut right through a basic core belief of mine.  And being the socially liberal "live and let live" kinda girl I am, there's a part of me that just wants to shake someone who doesn't agree with my stance on this issue and explain to him or her why their belief is just not right. 

But really, is it liberal to have such an open mind that I would be angry or intolerant of those who didn't agree with me?  And is it even liberal to simply be "tolerant"...why would I need to tolerate?  How about just to accept and absorb the fact that each person has their own way of thinking, of believing, or being guided and shaped by their life and experience? 

So I smiled inside, a big inner grin..and I let go.  Sure, I physically allowed this woman in her Buick pass by me..and so you know, I am not rendering judgement on the Le Sabre...just mentioning it to add details to my posting...I actually own a '96 Buick Le Sabre and LOVE it.  I also began to let go to some old beliefs that I somehow needed others to agree with me.  It dawned on me that it's taken me a while to get to this point and that really, that need was not based in a genuine desire to help others in their journeys of enlightenment along with mine, nor was it to make the world a better place.  It was rooted in my own insecurities and feelings of inadequacy. 

I'm not saying I no longer have those issues.  I believe most people wrestle with a lack of self esteem or self worth at times..some more than others.  I was one of the "more than others" types myself.  For a long time.  And it led to some pretty poor decisions and crooked paths towards where I really wanted to be.  But somehow, I ended up here.  And here is good. 

I'm currently 3 1/2 years into my holistic nutrition studies in what was supposed to be a 2 year program.  Granted, last year after I completed an intensive 200 hour yoga teacher training in Pranakriya Yoga (a lineage started by Yoganand (Michael) Carroll based on Swami Kripalu's teachings), I pretty much took a year off to hone my skills as a teacher and focus more on building up my Pranalisa Yoga studio and business.  I'm a firm believer that in general, there is no such thing as wasted time.  I do believe, however, that part of my procrastination, besides the usual fears of change or of going outside of my comfort zone, is an underlying issue of a feeling of inadequacy...of wondering..."what can I possibly have to contribute that is different or as good as what is already out there?" 

So today, my focus, and I do have one...kinda sorta.  Is to cultivate a sense of self worth...with that comes so much more.  The "good enough" feeling goes hand in hand with self worth, as does self esteem, confidence, and even a sense of knowing that it's truly an inside job.  It's about time...I'm about 3 months away from turning 45, and I am ready now to accept things about life and growing older AND growing up emotionally and spiritually.  For so long I worked from the outside in...and really it never worked.  I was kicking and screaming and stomping my feet in efforts to control and sway....other people's opinions or actions, outcomes and results, my body and mind, hell...maybe even the weather or other such things that truly cannot be controlled...at least not by me. 

Today, I remind myself...bodies change and I am not my body.  Nor am I my thoughts.  And it has to start within me in order to evolve and mature.  It's an act of surrender and of self love and the knowledge that things are unfolding in the exact manner in which they are supposed to unfold.  Today I remind myself, especially as I teach yoga students, practice my own yoga asanas, meet with a practice client for school, and go about my day, that I indeed have something to contribute and am not being measured or compared to anyone...even myself.

Breathing in the possibilities...releasing that which does not serve me or the universe.

Flow

Sometimes I find when I'm walking or dreaming or engaged in yoga postures or some other sort of potentially (and hopefully) meditative state, my brain will go a mile a minute with all sorts of ideas, revelations, conclusions, and other ground breaking (at least they seem ground breaking at the time) thoughts.  And then, due to my own amnesiac mind, as quickly as they'd floated through my consciousness, my incredibly insightful, wise original mantra or amazingly funny joke or cutting edge invention or the answer to one of life's little riddles vaporizes back into the ether of my mind.  It's happened so often I am neither surprised nor disappointed anymore.

So I started this blog, in part, as a means to capture some of these little pearls before they slip back into oblivion, gleaming whatever it is I am meant to gleam and sharing it with anyone who happens to come across my writings.  I'm very humble regarding whatever wisdom I may have to impart upon myself and/or others.  I mean really....it's not like I have extensive education or some sort of intuitive gift or healing powers or insight. I'm not from a long lineage of natural healers or yogis or especially sensitive or proactive people...at least not that I know of....in fact, I often step back in amazement at how paths take certain directions, mine included.

BRIEF BIOGRAPHY

I am the product of Russian and Polish Jewish immigrant grandparents who produced my parents: a depression era WW2 veteran dad, and a mom who never even finished high school due to family issues that she has never really completely divulged with me.  My parents were in their 40s when I was born....dad traveled, mom didn't drive, and my 3 older brothers were nearly all adults.  I was a 1965 baby raised like a baby boomer in some ways, though really, I always felt "in between" generations.  Too old to be Generation X...whatever that is...and too young to be a real boomer kid.

My parents didn't know what to do with me...my brothers were raised in a different era...the 50s and 60s...and here I was, the little "princess" my mom had hoped for one day...who became a wild hippie-disco-punker-grown-up-wannabe by about the age of 12.  Definitely not what they'd bargained for.  By the age of 13 or 14, most my friends were in their late teens, even early twenties, and I was enjoying the club scene of Atlanta in the 1970s.  Age 15, my beau was 24...graduated a year and a half early in 1982 at the impressionable age of 16, moved in with the beau, and began college a month before my 17th birthday.   I was a little chubby, frizzy haired Jewish girl who dropped out of Hebrew school by age 8 or so, battled with body image and food issues from as early as I remember, and always felt displaced somehow.  If I had to pinpoint an overlying feeling from around age 7 to my mid teens, it would be that I just wanted to hurry up and be a grown up.  So that's what I did...at least to some degree.

To spare the reader (are you out there...anyone?) all the (sometimes/often sordid) details...somewhere along the way, I went from this kid acting out and hanging out with all the "old" 20 something year olds to being a middle age woman with an adult kid in college living a pretty simple and, for the most part, a calm and quiet, non-drama-filled life.  Just as my parents probably thought, as I was going through my wild years, "where did this kid come from?"....I often wonder, after my own tumultuous (at times) past and my many less than optimal decisions, how I ended up with the amazingly intelligent, level headed son who has graced me with his existance.  I do have a feeling my wonderment has a bit more of a positive slant than that of my parents.  If my father was still alive, I'm sure I'd feel compelled to express my gratitude for his patience and support as well as seek ways to make amends for all those gray hairs I am certain I helped produce. 

 END OF BIOGRAPHY...FOR NOW

So here I am...officially a "grown up"...nearly 45 years old.  Being a grown up, and actually acting like one, of course, are two entirely separate matters.  I admit it...while I may not throw tantrums or whine or cry or obsess over things as I may have done as a child...often my first thought IS to do those things.  Luckily the "grown up" status hits me, and all the events, thoughts, decisions, and experiences that happened to this point, help me to actually act more prudently or at least come from a place of awareness and miindfulness.  I may be compassionate and patient today, at least more often than not; however, it's not always my first thought.  Okay...it's not even always my second or third thought either.

In the past several weeks, I have witnessed the birth and growth and departure of baby robins, spent time with my son for what felt like a nanosecond before I said goodbye to him as he left for Europe for the summer, enjoyed all the lovely blooms of hydrangeas, rhododendrons, mums, gardenias, lilies, peonies, bee balm, asters,  the shared organic produce from my friends next door, had a very negative and somewhat scary altercation in traffic with a very large male county worker, taught a lot of yoga classes, enjoyed my friends' wedding, made progress towards finishing my studies towards my holistic nutrition consultant certification, said good bye and, to be honest, with all due respect, good riddance to a housemate, and adopted a beautiful orange tabby cat whom I named Leonidas (also the name of some amazing Belgian chocolates).

My story is far from unique or unusual..other than the fact that it's mine and no one else's.  And during the flow (hence the title for this blog post...flow is both a noun and a verb in this context), a few themes have cropped into my mind....not necessarily original or new and definitely not especially wise or ground breaking...just helpful to me in the moment. One...as my current facebook status recently stated: things just always seem to work out...even when it doesn't seem that way at the moment.  Another, when a situation comes up that is unnerving or upsetting, rarely is it a lasting feeling or really more than a "blip" once it can be simply observed...this is what I experienced after the traffic situation.  Still another...if I actually practice the act of compassion and patience, I can view someone in an entirely different light. Again, in regards to the road-rage incident...I discovered this employee was retiring about an hour after we had our heated interaction.  Evidently, he was a live wire and had many years of frustration and energy to dump...I happened to be there at the time and really, it had little to do with me.  I wish him the best...I really do.

A couple more pearls before my amnesia sets back in...worrying is a worthless medium, anger is not productive (though acknowledging it, processing and releasing is imperative in order to move on), and a smile can change the world.

Oh yeah...for today...I AM enough. 

Now...to see if any of the blueberries have ripened in the aftermath of a rainy and sunny weekend.

...to be continued.....

Alex (in the booth) and a friend in London 

Leonidas: here a week and thinks he owns the place.
he does

 a few days after being born and before flying away...happens so fast!
I think one of these babies is residing in the backyard.

loveliest hydrangea I've seen in recent memory

Litter

For quite some time now, I've been thinking about writing about litter...aka...trash.  For the past 15 years or so, I've been walking or jogging through my little city.  From the beginning, I couldn't help but notice the trash that littered the streets.  While I am sure Decatur is not the worse example of the negative impact of humans' disrespect..yes, I said disrespect...of our environment; however, it can be disturbing to see the speckling of wrappers, bottles, cans, and containers starkly in contrast to the seasonal delights of nature.  Amidst the cherry blossom and dogwood trees, a beef jerky wrapper or crushed McDonald's cup..or, as I also personally observed this morning, lovely hydrangeas, gardenias, honeysuckle bushes, punctuated with Skittle and Snicker wrappers, a Capri Sun pouch, and a few nondescript plastic and styrofoam remnants.  I can't help but feel a bit saddened at their sight.

Without delving to deeply into the anthropological or sociological implications of the types of litter I witness, I cannot help but notice that, in my own personal observation from over a decade and a half of traveling through my city, 90% or more of the waste I see is less-than-favorable food choices...ie...junk food.  It appears to me that those willing to trash the outside environment may also be less mindful when it comes how they treat their insides.  Let's just say I have never found a organic chips or raw fruit/nut bar wrappers lining my path in all the years I've been mindful enough to notice. 

Also, I am not claiming to be without fault or responsibility myself...I know I've added to this problem in my past at some point or another.  However, once I became mindful of how I treated my body on the inside, I also become mindful of how I treat the world outside of my body.  When we know better, we DO better.  What I began, many years ago...when not running late for work or an appointment, was to make picking up litter a sort of exercise and game.  I am not claiming to have had the sole intention of cleaning up the universe...I must admit that my initial motivation stemmed from my own obsessive compulsive nature and a desire for a few more squats as part of my exercise routine.  I don't think that really matters, though...after all, the only reason I began doing yoga was for the yoga butt, not peace nor stillness. 

Intentions aside, while walking home this morning after teaching my regular Friday 6am hot yoga class, I began to think about the issue of litter and steps we can all take to be part of the solution.  Here are a few steps that we can make in order to turn what appears to be mindLESSness into mind-FULL-ness:

• Awareness...notice your surroundings in your neighborhood, even if it is just the street in front of your own home.
  
• Move...if you've not already implemented a walking or jogging regimen, begin one, even if just for 5-10 minutes a day, 2-3 days a week.  Start where you are and build from there.  Do squats or lunges each time you lean down to pick up trash.
• Action...when you set out upon your walk or jog, make a goal of picking up at least one piece of trash.
  
• Share ...tell friends and neighbors or make a game or contest out of numbers of items picked up or perhaps on who can find the weirdest or funniest or most interesting discarded object(s).
• Be safe...careful of what you pick up...wear gloves if needed or just leave any item in question.
  
• Expand...allow this mindfulness and PRO-activity to grow into other areas of your life...begin composting or recycling if you've not already done so.  Use less, need less, walk more..know that less IS more.  One thing I began doing is using less napkins or reusing a napkin if it wasn't soiled.

Change begins with awareness and from there, the possibilities are endless.  If every person picked up just one piece of litter a day, the world would be less polluted.  I know there are still landfills and waste and a pile of plastic and trash in the ocean the size of Texas.  There is no such thing as perfection.  It's a start, however, so why not?  Sometimes I make it part of my squats or lunges for that day and call it a work out.  Other days I decide that for my half mile or so jaunt, I'll focus on even a modicum of tidiness on my side of the street and recycle what I can from that day's "loot."  Maybe I am just a nut, but you know...even if it is only a small area or if it gets trashed again the next day...just feels good.  Maybe, just maybe, a little proactivity can be a fine example for others too....who knows, this could be the next trendy thing!

Midlife Musings

I realize as a yoga teacher and student, part of my journey to to seek, or at least gravitate towards self awareness and maybe, just maybe...one day...enlightenment.  Well, I have never felt as if I am an old soul, so over time, I have let go of the illusion of being able to control where I one day "end up"...so while enlightenment may happen one day, I truly work towards just doing the best I can.

So far so good.  Not that I have such a good track record of decision making...but who's counting?  I made a comment a little while ago in response to a longtime friend regarding her musings about our paths that we've taken and expectations that I had never really expected to "...survive all the crap I created".    Key words...I created...

I created a life for myself and son that I had never imagined nor expected.  Not that I take a bunch of credit, mind you.  Through a series of some pretty screwy decisions along with some really superb ones, I am here.  It's not been pretty at times...in fact, it's been quite ugly many times. 

But so far...I have survived the crap.  Even more importantly, I have friends and family whom I love and live me back, and I get to spend a majority of my time doing things which bring me and others joy.  Still though, there's crap here and there....I am currently in the longest 2 yr holistic nutrition program known to mankind (about 3.5 yrs now) and have lots of issues focusing and studying; I have some health issues as a result of some pretty poor decisions from 25 yrs ago; I lose patience with my mom; I get angry and judgmental at times too.  Oh...and I have "issues"...with food, thoughts, and addictive tendencies in general. 

Cool thing is that I am open to the possibilities of life without all the defects.  Not that it will ever be defect-free...just that there is a silver lining.  Over the years, between discovering yoga and getting older and maturing, humility guides me more than my ego.  Which brings me to my impetus for writing this morning: my perception of the self righteousness of a few with whom I have recently come into contact.  More specifically, I had an interaction with a few who are vegetarians who appear to be quite judgmental of anyone who is not. 

Don't get me wrong...I think it is awesome for people to abstain from eating animals for reasons of social consciousness and their own morals and values.  I don't especially like the idea of living creatures dying for any reason....even when watching a National Geographic special when a hyena or a lion captures its prey and a feeding frenzy ensues.  I feel for the animal who was captured.  For years, in my early to mid 30s, in fact, I adopted a raw vegan diet.  No animal products at all...and taking it to the next level, nothing cooked or heated over about 110°....not to mention the fact that I also refrained from gluten, flour, fermented foods (like tofu and soy), sugar, and certain vegetables and fruits.  I loved the food that I did allow myself...perhaps too much.  Despite the fact that most people get very slim eating a raw vegan diet, I binged on raw "uncookies" and other raw desserts, raw sprouted pizzas slathered with cashew "cheese", soaked nuts, mock tuna wrapped in nori rolls, and so on.  On top of that, I didn't thrive energetically and I was about 30 pounds overweight.

Today I am a big fan of mindful eating and listening to my body.  I believe in the theory of biochemical individuality and support the slow food movement.  I adore Michael Pollan and Alice Waters.  I support my local growers, frequenting my local organic weekly farmer's market regularly.

I estimate that 90% of the time, I eat local, seasonal and organic foods...farm fresh eggs from chickens that are truly free-range (as opposed to the industrialized "free-range" chickens who do not necessarily have the freedom one would think they should have), okra and tomatoes that were grown within about 5-25 miles away and picked that morning, and occasionally (about 1-2 times a month) I even eat some red meat from a local farm. 

I get it...no matter what, if one eats red meat, chicken, pork, even fish, then a life ends in order for another life to eat.  However, I DO believe that it IS possible to raise animals with respect and in a humane way.  There is a HUGE difference in animals raised by corporate farms and those raised in a traditional environment...meaning  that the cows are NOT herded into small areas, force fed genetically modified corn, given hormones and antibiotics, and slaughtered once they have quickly become obese and diseased while other cows watch their fellow cows meet this horrible fate. 

So, today, I am working towards growing in self awareness, not just with my personal food choices, but also in not judging those who seem so quick to judge others who do not subscribe to their standards.  Perhaps true enlightenment means being a breatharian...after all, produce is alive too...maybe I too can live strictly off of prana.  Or not.  While I cannot know exactly what the future holds, I can't imagine this happening in this lifetime for me.

Today, I'll do my best....it's all I can do...and that includes having compassion and openness to accept the rights of others, and that means I release my own judgments amidst theirs....or at least lean towards that direction.  Ultimately, no one can "make me feel" a certain way without MY permission.

Things we can all do.....
Be aware of our thoughts and actions and how they impact ourselves, others, and the environment.
Move and breathe.
Be kind to ourselves and others.
Know the source of your food, your clothes, and any items you use or consume.
Walk when you can walk; only drive when you must.
Smile.

Perhaps this post was inspired by the fact that the baby birds grew up so fast and flew away about 10 days after they were born.   Or maybe because my son is leaving to study abroad in Europe in about 24 hours.  Or hormones.  Perhaps it just doesn't matter.

nests: beginnings and endings

Yesterday was the end of my son's second year of college.  It seems like a few minutes ago he was born, a few seconds later, he was a little social creature with thoughts and opinions of his own, another moment or so, and he was off to school, and now, he's a man well on the way to carving out a self sufficient life of his own.  It's mind boggling. 

The journey for the past 21 years or so has been peppered with bittersweet memories of exciting new phases, inevitably ending at some point, only to make way for another phase.  Each moment sets the tone and prepares us for the next one.  I remember the first time I really examined my son's feet...he was about 2 days old...and I mean I really checked them out.  They were so perfect: soft, squishy, round, sweet new-baby smelling, virginal feet.  They'd never stepped on dirt or gotten a cut or a splinter or had socks or shoes on them.  They were just little perfect feet.  Before long, these feet were wearing cleats and they were running and kicking balls and getting bruised and dirty and occasionally getting a stubbed toe here and there.  They were fast feet...winning races and soccer games.  Now these feet are attached to a man...a 6' 2" tall, handsome, academic, athletic, focused, driven, intelligent man.  We are connected and always will be...though he often disagrees with me and sometimes acts as if he doesn't like me too much....I'm accepting of all of it.  Our children are supposed to separate from their parents eventually, and I see this more and more with the passing of each school semester, each season, each moment.

A couple of weeks ago I noticed a little nest outside my front door in the rhododendron bush.  A week later, I saw four beautiful bright blue eggs.  Another week later and the eggs had hatched, leaving in their place four little baby robins.  The eggs were so amazing and perfect, I didn't want them to ever change; though of course I knew this phase would not last forever.  And sure enough, while the eggs are now gone, the growing baby birds are a phase that leaves me with excitement each day as I carefully examine them with amazement and awe.  At first they barely seemed alive, and now, only a few days later, they are active and hungry.  I know in the next few days, their eyes will begin to open and they'll start chirping and being more birdlike.  Before I know it, they'll be flying on their own and making nests for themselves.  Bittersweet.

Most of have heard the proverb, "All good things must come to an end," based on Chaucer's 1374 proverb: "There is an end to everything, to good things as well."  Perhaps this is true; however, I prefer to subscribe to the belief that with each ending, a new beginning is possible.

While I loved being the mom of a newborn (and a grandmom to my little grandbirdies!), I know that these moments will eventually phase out to make space for new ones...my son will one day be completely on his own, possibly in another city or state or even another country.  And the baby birds will be flying away to unknown destinations to make a life for themselves.  Their mother and I will both be left with empty nests and lives that will be forever changed. 

Yes, perhaps all good things come to an end.  But it doesn't mean it's no longer a good thing...it only means there are other things in the horizon.  Perhaps this is one reason I am so grateful for yoga.  Each breath, each asana, each moment, prepares me for the next one...and the next...and the next...and so on.  It provides me with a way to be less attached to the outcome and more in the moment.  It shows me the joy of the process and the work and helps me to surrender the results.  It gives me some peace around the fact that all things...good, bad, or indifferent...eventually end.  It's a circle.  A cycle.  

Only a short time ago, the yard was popping with bright yellow forsythia, pink and white dogwoods, purple redbud blooms...today these blooms have died off, only to make way for the roses, peonies, and hydrangeas.  Soon, the turtle heads, daylilies and gardenias will be popping.  One ending only means a new beginning is in the making. 

In a couple of weeks, as the baby birds are more than likely beginning to fly, my son will be flying too...off to study abroad in Spain, and then on a trip around Europe before fall semester marks the start of his junior year in college.  Today I take great comfort that my son is home...safe, content and in the next room...and that the birds' nest is full and alive with a healthy and active mama and babies.  I also take comfort in the fact that I can enjoy these moments with a sense of bliss and embrace the changes as each moment prepares me for the next one..and the next one...and so on....all I have to do is breathe, release...repeat.

intentions

When I first heard about this "hot yoga" Bikram stuff, I totally resisted.  I mean, hey, I was different...I needed a "real" workout, and didn't want al the 'woo woo' crap of a yoga class.   Despite a friend's persistent calls and emails about how good she was feeling after a few months of regular Bikram yoga classes, I continued to run...and run...and then run some more.  Don't get me wrong, I think running can be a fine thing...but for me, it became about intention.  My intention was fear based...so I overate at night and overran in the day...1, 2 hrs, or more.  I ran in fear of getting fat and towards some elusive goal that I could never actually pinpoint.   It ceased being fun.  Or healthy.  I lived with aches, chafing, and blisters, and I even ran for weeks on what turned out to be a stress fracture in my foot.  Good times..not. 

So I finally agreed to go to Bikram with my friend one day after she promised me that I would see "my sweat sweat..."  Of course, I had to jog the 20 minutes or so to class, so I would get my "work out" just in case this wimpy class was too easy.  I vaguely remember the specifics of that very first class, though I do recall that I did NOT like all the mirrors...ok, the mirrors were fine, actually...I didn't like what I saw in the mirrors...me.  And for 90 minutes, I had to gaze into my own eyes most of the time.  And I sweated.  A lot.  It was not technically hard, really, though I was initially pretty frustrated when the yogini near me (who was probably half my size and half my age) could get her foot over her head in Dandayamana Dhanurasana  (standing bow pose) and my foot was nowhere to be seen.  OK, I kinda obsessed on this pose...I even dreamed about it.  It bugged me dammit...there is a story about surrender around this pose but I'll save it for another day. 

At the end of that first class, I do remember lying down in Savasana (corpse or final resting pose) in the 105° (Farenheight, not Celcius, thank God!) and thinking, "I hate this I hate this I hate this."  Not one to waste money, though, I went back since I had purchased an unlimited week to try it out.  And I gave it another chance.  I kept running...though the runs changed...no more 2 hours of running anymore...20-30 minutes to class and another 20-30 minutes back home.  It wasn't instantaneous; however, after a week of 3 or 4 Bikram classes, I felt a shift beginning.  Fear began to leave me and my intentions began to have a healthier foundation.  I slowed down a bit...first on a mental "toxic thought" level....then on a more physical level.  What had I been running for?  A better question: what had I been running from? 

That was nearly 7 years ago...I kept up my classes, and besides the physical aspect of the asanas (postures), I began to LISTEN...to my teachers...to that little voice I had ignored...not the ego voice that was often filled with toxic thoughts...my inner voice...my truth.  I began to actually like what I saw in the mirror when I gazed into my own eyes.  And when I did go for a jog or walk, it wasn't based in fear.  Instead I began to notice the flowers, the landscaping, my neighbors....the universe.  And it didn't revolve around me....

first

I was teaching a yoga class yesterday, and the name for this blog came to me as I admired a student's toenails...florescent green.  Simple, yet they made a statement.  These were not just your ordinary run-of-the-mill toenails....no, these were toenails that were appreciated and loved and adorned with polish that would allow them to stand out in the crowd, so to speak.  I continued to teach the class, and for a moment, thought about how lucky I am to be able to spend so much time teaching yoga and to observe such interesting and diverse yogis and yoginis. 

Ok, well, it's not all about toenails...afterall, I entitled this blog "Tattoos and Toenails"...so on with the tattoos, right?  It seems that tattoos have become so commonplace and mainstream these days; nearly everyone in my classes seem to have at least one tattoo...maybe not a large and obvious one, but at least one, nevertheless.  From men and women in their 70s, maybe even 80s,  to the young conservative mothers, permanent body art has become the norm.  Some students are so covered that it is hard to take my eyes, and even my mind off of the artwork, wondering if there is a story or some sort of history that led up to this person choosing a particular design or subject.  And yes, I must admit, I find myself getting closer and closer to taking the tattoo plunge myself as the idea and design continue to swirl around in my head.

So, this is my first entry in this blog.  It's not my first blog, and I cannot even promise myself or readers (if there are any readers out there) to continue with any consistency.  At this point, it is just an initial attempt to relay some thoughts, stories, and maybe even a bit of wisdom here and there as it relates to my life and experience as a yoga teacher...and a mother (and daughter and sister and auntie and niece), a business woman, a student, and a regular ol' flawed human. 

Until later~Namaste