Check out the art on this wall. It’s a scene that’s partly paint and partly bottle caps. Amy, I was thinking of you!
Dave and I met Ele and Will for dinner on Friday night after work at the Mellow Mushroom downtown. We had a really nice time. They are very good people who are fun yet grown-up at the same time.
In a very freaky twist of fate, it turns out that Will grew up in Independence, VA and his family remembers me and my family from the time we lived there! How freaky is that?! We lived there only for a few years but it was such an impressionable time in my life, it was the happiest place of the many places of my childhood. Interestingly enough, Will remembers it as a big of a magical place, too.
Will called his dad who remembered me and my family, and there was this funny little exchange where I said “Ask him if he knows Sylvia…” and Will said “Delaney” becuause he knew who I was talking about. It’s clearly such a small town. Gordy Miniclier was Will’s dentist when he was a kid. My dad made the sign outside of his office. Will and Ele always visit Ogle’s on their way out of town for a sandwich, and my dad made that sign, too.
I will have to post some childhood pictures of my time in Independence. Will and I are the same age so we probably knew each other around 1983/84.
Read more at Ele’s blog. She also links to recent pictures of Will’s family in Idependence.
It’s funny, the older I get the smaller I see how the world can be. When I lived in Texas, I worked with this girl named Lindsay for about 8 months before we realized that we were practically neighbors. Then when we started hanging out more, we had a totally freaky realization one night that Lindsay’s soon-to-be-husband Tim’s best friend was a guy I dated in college named Moe, and Tim remembered all the letters that Moe and I exchanged. Of course, since she was dating Tim at the time, she remembered hearing about them too! Small world indeed!
Go forth and count the birds you see!
My doctor thinks I may have endometriosis, which is such a funky little disease. He’s not sure, but he’s treating me as if I have it. If I do have it, I’m asympotmatic. So now I’m taking Clomid.
I don’t quite understand how this is supposed to fix things, but it seems to be a good step towards achieving our goal. 🙂
It’s a question Cyndi posed on her blog: “Do you consider your Yoga practice to be spiritual? What makes your practice spiritual?”
So, I’ve been thinking about this, and my answer is a quiet and humble “no.”
It’s something I struggle with. I guess it’s kind of like going to a fabulous restaurant and wondering why everyone raves about the food. But that’s not even a very good comparison, because I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything.
Let me explain by saying that my yoga practice is not simply physical. I do love the physical aspect of yoga. But more important to me, my yoga practice helps take me away from “I should have cleaned the bathtub” and “Did I leave the iron on?” and “OhmygodlookatmythighswhydontIworkoutmore?!” to a place where I can focus on other things.
It gives me a place to work on my biggest life goal: to change who I am. I wish I were less sarcastic, and I wish I were more openly honest with people, less guarded. I wish I didn’t use humor as a screen to keep people out. I wish I could more easily and sincerely say things like “I’m sorry” and “You’re right, I’m wrong.” I want to craft a better person who thinks before she reacts, who always considers other’s feelings before making a move, who greets life’s challenges with a smile and patience rather than cussing and glowering.
In the same token, yoga also gives me a place to be okay with who I am. Non-judgemental acceptance is the party line, and I’m down with that. My yoga practice, thanks in part to my soulful yogini and the supportive community of our studio, creates for me a space where I can be more honest with others and myself, and more satisfied and generous with myself at the same time. For at least one hour a week, I feel unstoppable and confident. Whole.
So, no, there is nothing spiritual about my yoga practice. There’s no God (either uppercase or lowercase) and frankly, there’s very little meditation. But there is a wellspring from which I can draw patience and candor. And there is some good framework for building the person inside of me as well as the person on the outside.
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