dancing

Has this ever happened to you?

A few months ago I watched the movie Sicko by Michael Moore and it brought back old memories. I was in the pre-med program during my first three years of college and was very excited about becoming a doctor. One long story later, I changed my direction and got out of the pre-med program. For a few years I wondered if I should have gone to medical school, but eventually I lost the desire to work in medicine, and in recent years I didn’t even remember, on a felt level, why I ever wanted to be a doctor.

In Sicko, when Michael Moore was interviewing a doctor in England, I got a feeling I haven’t had in years. I felt that old desire to be a doctor! It was such a surprise to feel that again and to know that it is still a part of me. It also made it more clear to me why I changed paths. I realized that if medicine in the US was like it is in England or France, where a doctor can really just focus on caring for patients, then I might have continued on that path.

The first part of this clip shows the interview with the British doctor.

I don’t want to go back and finish my studies to be a doctor, (right now, anyway) because I’m in a different place in my life and I don’t want to make that kind of time commitment and, I have found other things that I also love doing. But it is cool and surprising to rediscover parts of myself.

Have you had that happen recently? Have you been reminded of something you loved?

Last night I was in improv, which is a current well-remembered desire. And we played a game that included us making a gesture, everyone coping us, and everyone making up their own meaning for the gesture.

It was fun and satisfying to see people make the same gesture I had made and interpret it in their own way. I really like that! It’s funny how small the components of my satisfaction can be. And I remembered that deep satisfaction I get from choreographing dances! It’s one of the coolest things I have ever experienced- seeing a dance in my head, teaching it to people, and seeing them act it out. That is something I want to pursue again.

If you have any ideas about how an unschooled choreographer can get a group of would be dancers together and get a venue to perform, let me know!

Do you have any old flames that you’d like to bring back into your life?

Let us know! Maybe someone has a good idea for you.

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I’m in a learning and skill gathering phase of my life right now. I feel like I have learned so much over the last 12 or so years and gotten my life to new heights; I move in new *universes. (Ok, my life is not all that high, but it started out so low!)

At times I’m reminded of the universes I used to live in and I’m sooo glad I live in a better universe now. But I vaguely sense even better universes that I want to live in, and I clearly long for much that I don’t have now. I feel very lucky to be where I am, but I want more and I want to be more! I want to be more skilled at living a rich and full and kind life. I especially want to be more skilled at loving people, and taking care of myself, and richly appreciating and connecting with people, and having fun.

I have discovered in my life, and so can attest, that building skills can significantly increase the quality of a person’s life.

One way I built skills several years ago was by taking NLP training from Anchor Point. I want to take more NLP training, and get guidance from someone kind, wise, and skilled in NLP. Here are a couple videos I saw online while I was surfing for NLP training:

A strategy for thinking about information that is presented in the context of a serious health problem:

Perception vrs Conception. He is talking about “sensory acuity” which is training yourself to really notice all kinds of external sensations. (Rather than just being in your head.) This video is an example of the clear ways of framing experience that were taught in NLP. My brain felt more clear after taking the training.

For those interested in NLP training

Caveat emptor: So much of what has been **learned in NLP has been incorporated into our disciplines about learning, performance, and therapy, but I don’t think NLP is the holy grail or anything. I am a thoroughly post modern chick taking everything with a grain of salt. I did find it very enlightening and effective though.

Here is a guide to selecting good training. (I thought the training at Anchor Point was excellent, but I’m not sure if they have a current training program.)

*I think it’s interesting how much variety, even within cultures, is in people’s experiences of life. It’s like we move in different universes, near each other, but without being able to fully sense or comprehend the worlds of those near us. We move in circles that have specific ways of communicating and looking at the world. I think there is a lot of variety even in circles very geographically near to us.

(And if you are having a very unpleasant experience of life, I feel fairly safe in saying that there is a better world somewhere nearby. I think physically moving to a new location can be useful and choosing kinder and more fun people is useful. I also think that increasing your own skills will automatically put you in a new universe; like being in another dimension. Sometimes, with new skills, you will be able to perceive the better world that is right where you are. I mean this in a completely practical and non-spiritual way, although it does feel pretty amazing.)

**NLP is a body of knowledge and it is also a methodology, called modeling, which is used for gaining knowledge.

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I got in a rare argument with my mom last night. I threw out the wild and crazy idea that our family could get together and have a reunion every year for a week. She said that it was ok to want that but not to expect that to happen. I said that I thought getting together for *ONE* *WEEK* a year didn’t seem like an outrageous thing to expect and if my family couldn’t prioritize that amount of time for me then maybe they were more like acquaintances than family and I would get my own other family!

Then I said I had to go because I had an improv class. She said, “What, you can’t even prioritize talking to me on the *phone*?” “No!” I said. Then we both said, “Bye, I love you.” Because neither of us wants to leave with bad words in case one of us dies before we talk again.

Oooh I was irritated all the way to improv class. I needn’t have worried, because it’s easy to be happy in improv and tonight was especially funny. The theme of the night was “Yes, AND…” There are all kinds of “Yes, and” games. The idea is that someone throws out an idea, and WHATEVER it is, you agree with it and add information. (It’s very much like dancing.)

Say you have a scene where you are in a bank and your partner says, “I love that ballarina outfit you’re wearing!” You don’t say, “I’m in a bank, why would I be wearing a ballerina outfit?” You say… anything that agrees with their reality. “Oh thank you! I love the tights, but do you think the tutu is too much?” Or…”Yes, darling, it’s intermission at Swan Lake and I have just enough time to cash my latest honorarium if you wouldn’t mind letting me just tip toe ahead of you in line.”

You even “yes and” offerings that you find sort of repulsive. “Didn’t you used to date George Bush?” “Yep, we went out for a couple months. We met in rehab.”

It was an especially funny night, I was glowing from the laughter, and as I was driving home my mind turned back to the argument. I imagined answering some improv friend’s questions about my fight with my mom: “Yeah, I think that if she had just said. ‘Yes! That’s a great idea! It would be so awesome to get together with all of our family! I love that idea. We could even rent a boat or something!’ Then I would have been happy. Then we could talk about ways to make it happen and find out if it might or might not work….”

“Yeah, good point, I could have yes-anded her too. ‘Yeah, you’re worried that it’s just not going to happen and you want me to be happy about whatever amount of time I do get. Yeah, I hear you, you don’t want me to be disappointed.’ True, I could have said something like that. And I often do, when I’m in a more mature mode. Plus I know I toss out what sound like wild ideas to my sometimes cautious mother and I have empathy for where she is at and her concerns for me. But, come on, I wanted one month a year, so I’d already brought my suggestion down to what I thought was crazy reasonable before I said it!”

My imaginary improv friends lost interest at this point. Rude.

Now you know how to respond to me when I tell you an outrageous idea.

Just tell me that you like my tutu and leave it at that.

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My plans for rat park rather than rat cage living written a couple months ago:

One night a week at a track club: I like running every now and then- I especially like running fast and this track work out is dedicated to speed work.

Dancing: My favorite dance company in my town has moved closer to where I live and I want to take their classes. I’m a little nervous about facing fat prejudice. I love dancing and I have a natural aptitude for it. I hope I’ll be welcomed and not judged even though I bet I’ll have more fat on my body then other people in the class will.

*If you’ve ever faced prejudice, how do you deal with it? Do you call people on it? Do you ignore it and try to prove them wrong through your actions? Do you ignore it? There is so much fat prejudice in our society. I’m worried that it is especially bad in dance classes. Oh well. I gotta dance. I’m going anyway.

**By the way, if you love dancing and are fat, (ie: you have more fat on your body than you feel is socially acceptable) and are afraid to face the fat prejudice, I recommend salsa dancing and swing dancing. There are people of all different shapes there and people mostly just want a good dance partner. A fat safe place.

Wilderness training: I love camping and I haven’t gone camping in about 5 years now. Unheard of! I got a notice in my email for a ten week wilderness training course put on by the Sierra Club. Ten weeks of training and four camping trips to practice our skills! This class is what got the rat park ball rolling.

Writing group: I write almost every day. I have weird mixed feelings about going to a writing group.

*Fantasy: I imagine reading something and everyone exclaiming about how great it is. Afterwards, people come up to me and say that I should be in their smaller writing group, I should publish a book, they know a magazine editor- I should submit an article.

**What I don’t really want is any negative critique. I’m not sure why I’m less open to suggestion about my writing. I think I know when my writing is crappy or blah. What will be useful for me is having a regular time to meet with people every month and preparing writing to be read in public.

Music: I feel almost opposite about music as I do about writing. I don’t want an open mike night to perform at. I want a jam session and I’m open to LOTS of feedback.

2/25/08 Update: I have been taking the Wilderness course and I have been enjoying my time off. I’m blossoming out of the cage office and in my enriched natural environment. I’m glad I found this post which reminds me of so to add in some of the other activities I was excited about as well. Wishing you the oomph to change any cage like situations and get thee some more park like situations.

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* Eat whatever I want to whenever I want to.
* Don’t eat anything I don’t want to. (I just discovered this one.)

* Only exercise if I feel like exercising.
* If I feel like moving, let myself move! (I just discovered this one!)

These decisions are about noticing how I feel and completely trusting that what I want to do is alright. What would taste good to me? What do I really want right now? Do I want to lay in bed for an hour, or go on a walk in the park, or take a long hot shower, or do an exercise tape I haven’t done in years and then stop after 14 minutes, or go running and then sprint on some blocks juse for fun?

It’s a huge leap of faith! You mean, I could just eat whatever I want to?? Really? Me? :) And still be alive and stuff? And not weigh 300 pounds and stuff?

You mean, I could just, like, exercise when I want to?? And then like, lay around or dance in my living room if I want to? Like I’m just some kind of animal? ;)

Here I am deciding to let myself eat whatever I desire and move when, if and how I desire to. (Sounds very hedonistic no? Scary to inner puritan, no?) When I first made the decision to NEVER DIET AGAIN, about 2 years ago, I ate hot pockets everyday for about a month. Then I went through a licorice phase. I gained 25 pounds!

And then I eventually, blessedly, stopped obsessing about food.

I stopped eating more than I wanted to at parties because I knew, but really knew that I could eat more later if I felt like it. I stopped finishing all my chips if I wasn’t in the mood for chips, because I knew, I mean really knew that I could have more chips if ever I wanted to. I mean, it is amazingly freeing to stop obsessing about food. You of the long time dieters know how much brain energy goes into thinking about food. Imagine my relief.

You know which countries don’t have more depressed woman than men? The countries where women don’t diet.

But! You say, I don’t want to gain 25 pounds and have my arteries clogged with hot pockets! I know, I know, me neither. But I was even more sick of dieting or even being hyper alert about eating “healthy.” I made a full committment to never diet again whatever the results, and the results were not leading to many health goals at first, but strangely, I think this process of following my desires has now led me on a journey of having health and energy. Tune in tomorrow for the super secret of my success. Wait, that sounds too cheeky. Tune in tomorrow for the super secrets of my ordinary life of being fairly healthy and freeing up my brain to think about whatever I want to think about!

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Yes, a dancing bird! Does it get better?

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This Is My Life, Rated
Life:	6.4
Mind:	7.2
Body:	8.2
Spirit:	8.2
Friends/Family:	4.3
Love:	2.1
Finance:	6.3
Take the Rate My Life Quiz

Wow, I can’t believe my life rated well enough to give advice! I’m up from a year ago.

After taking the quiz, they said my rating was above average and asked me to give words of advice! That is a request I cannot resist.

Think about it:

I have really thought about what makes me happy and I’ve tried to implement those things. I’ve also tried to accept my weaknesses and work with how I am. For instance, TV is not a thing that makes me happy in the long run, but when I have it, I get addicted. So, I don’t get cable. My mind is much more relaxed since doing this and I have way more time for actual fun.

Healthy habits:

I write in my journal almost everyday. This helps calm my mind down.

Finances for the middle class:

I have a steady job which I don’t love but it is nice to have steady money. (I’m working on getting a job I love.) It’s very stressful to be scrambling for money. I live well within my means so that I can save every month. I decide what feels luxurious for me so I get to feel rich while living simply. For me, it is a treat to be able to go to the grocery store and buy whatever I want with out checking for prices. This is real luxury for me that doesn’t actually cost me that much. I’m cheap in areas I don’t care about. For example, I am content to drive an old car which means no car payments and cheap insurance.

Relationships!

The best thing I’ve done for myself is to make good relationships a priority. I was happy to be able to honestly say that I have 6-10 good friends and that I have a close relationship with my family. That wasn’t always true for me.

Advice for people who need it:

I highly recommend making relationships a priority. If you are having trouble making friends or unsure where to make friends, here are two main ways you can start to improve that.

First, learn to take good care of yourself and start with small steps. For example, start doing things you like to do, even if it is on a small scale. You want to be a famous dancer? Turn on some music and dance around in your room. What does this have to do with relationships? Your level of happiness shows up and people will be attracted to you based on that happiness.

Sometimes it can be hard to learn to care for yourself if you weren’t raised that way. Just take one small step. Sometimes, even if you were raised well, it can be so easy to forget what you love and what makes you happy. It can also be easy to not take your preferences seriously. If you really feel so much happier when you go on a walk after dinner, GO ON THAT WALK! Your happiness is important.

Next, even before you have made yourself all happy and perfect, go out and find some people to be with! Your personal balance and maturity and the health of your relationships are intertwined and you need to pursue both.

Two good places to meet people if you are feeling shaky socially: churches and support groups. To put it plainly, these are places that will accept you even if you are socially inept and to be socially ept :) you need to be around people. To be socially ept, you also need to learn a lot of skills, so do some reading about relationships, take some classes, practice some skills, learn by observation. Avoid the pitfalls of seeming desperate (which can be hard if you are just coming out of seclusion - why support groups are helpful) also avoid the pitfall of arrogance. Really try on the belief that most people have something valuable to offer you.

Tip: If you are not religious, a good church to try is a Unitarian Universalist church.

Ps: I would have loved to read other people’s advice, but couldn’t find it. What’s your happiness advice?

PPS: Once again they scored me low in the friends and family department when I think that is one of the best things about my life. Shall I be punished for my unhappy childhood forever, internet quiz?

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Just head on over to Starling Travel and check out the couple who are bicyling around the world. Just seeing their smiling faces is worth the click.

Lately, I have been thinking about getting out into the world and living life more richly. My mom, who started sailing and running marathons in her late 40’s, is one of my role-models, as is Natalie over at Blaugustine who has just taken up juggling.

I began my latest foray into new adventures by taking an improv class. I started this Thursday and after getting a root canal in the morning, and working late, I was wayyyy too tired to go to a 2 and a half hour improv class. Sometimes, however, it’s never too soon to do more of what you want to do, even if you’re tired while you’re doing it. Speaking of doing more of what I want to do, I also went dancing on Friday night. I am a great dancer. (You heard it here first. ;)

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So, lately I’ve been inordinately proud of my breasts. This is not like me. I was not one of those little girls who was waiting to blossom. I liked my streamlined, pragmatic, asexual body. Even recently, as boasts about my burgeoning bosom have surfaced unplanned like Freudian slips, I’ve clung to the idea that I’m a 36 C. You see, I am a person who likes elegance in design, where form follows function. And even though people might not guess it to look at my outerwear, I have very specific tastes. My bras don’t look fancy, but they fit perfectly, and I pride myself on this kind of elegance. All my bras are the exact same bra- Olga, with a flower in the middle, 36 C, minimizer bras. They fit perfectly. And then suddenly, they didn’t. Something looked wrong. My nipples were showing through my shirts. It was time for a change, and I finally had to admit that I had hot-pocketed my way right into a D cup. My bras look enormous now. When I brought home a new one, my roommate exclaimed, “That could fit on my head!” It reminded me of a Designing Women episode when the red head was the keeper of the busty brunette’s bra and she put it on her head. I haven’t reached Delta Burke status yet, but I do have an abundance of flesh. It seems almost overindulgant.

As I stood in the dressing room with my bouncy breast tissue held aloft like it was on a tray, and my toddler-like belly protruding defiantly, I thought, “Have I gone too far?” Is this reveling in all this butter contributed fat and flesh too much? Should I kick into streamline phase, build up my muscles and melt all this delicious fat off my body? Then what would I do with all the new clothes I’m buying?!” I turned and looked at myself from the side. If I jut my stomach out and make it taught in instead of jiggly, I could look pregnant. I will make a darn cute pregnant woman. Then I wondered if the old tautology was true: To get pregnant, one must not already look pregnant… Nah… Who wouldn’t want to revel in all this extra bouncy flesh with me. My rolling thighs and protruding belly look just as cute on me as they do on a toddler, right? And even though I don’t understand the sexual allure of breasts, I know that some people do.

I think my current pride in my girth is the closest I’ve come to understanding some men’s pride in their package. It’s like a female version of machismo. Well, we’ll see where all this intuitive eating and moving leads me. I’m never going back to forcing myself to eat crappola again. I’m not eating on an eating plan. I’m not running 36 thousand miles, or even 36 if I don’t want to. I am going to keep buying clothes that I like for my body as it is now. I can always put them in a box when my body changes. I don’t know why I thought I had to get my body to one specific place and try and keep it there. A woman’s body changes so much in her life, and if I have my way, it’s going to change a lot more in the coming years, and I won’t have to pretend I’m pregnant. I can have a box of clothes for different future sizes. I have room in my life for my changing body, and these DKNY jeans I’m wearing are going to make excellent early maternity jeans. So, I guess I don’t have to worry about losing my breasts to exercise. They’ll come back eventually, taught with expectation, like my toddler belly.

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Alright… it’s not me. I wish I could dance like that! That kid is ammmmaaaazzzzinnnggg!

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My fifth day of work completed. I was going to go out to dinner and go dancing, but was too tired for either. Will I be able to make it through and to my many planned activities tomorrow? We’ll see. Last night I choked back sobs: my monthly existential angst strikes again. It is really weird to be basically afflicted with what seems like the symptoms as a mental illness for one day a month. I felt glum in the afternoon, but by the evening, I felt like my life was meaningless and I ached with grief and despair. And then (to be just as gross as I can, sorry everyone,) I start bleeding and I’m fine. It’s very strange.

Last night a friend came over and distracted me with his smelly farts and his gross cleanex. I had been crying and talking when I realized I had better just stop and go the distraction route. Everything is better with a friend, even if they are smelly.

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Wouldn’t it be awful to have a “dead friend” meme? But I have been inspired again by Laura, and I can’t help it. Now I want to write about all my deaths. Maybe it will quiet some of the winds of sorrow and grief that sometimes blow across my chest.

Adam, what first memories do I have that aren’t the pictures? The first picture, does it count? Is the picture of our moms face down at the beach. Only their beautiful young bodies were showing, while their large pregnant bellies were hidden in turtle holes in the sand. The story goes that my mom came to visit Sharon after having me, and Adam, who should have been born first, decided that he wanted to come out into the world too. Our moms met in a pre-natal class and he was born exactly two weeks after me. We both came into the world in beautiful mountain country, and then my mom moved, and a few cute baby pictures could have been the end of the story, but they aren’t.

Adam, carried along as babies are by fate (ie their parents), moved several states away from where he was born to the state I was being raised in. There we were, two toddlers separated at birth, together again. Again, the pictures. His wide smiling face and my thin concerned face. We sit at the beach together, two fat lumps of bundled babies. Our moms take turns sitting with us on Sharon’s front porch. We eat popsicles. We clumsily lean our faces together in a baby kiss in front of one of our birthday cakes. We take baths together. (This is what our mothers gleefully tell us when we are older.)

The first real memory? I remember being in the kitchen with him in their house when we are about 6. I remember assuming that we would one day marry when he became taller than me. He was so cute and all the girls had crushes on him, as his mother proudly told me and he smilingly and with a shrug admitted. I was amazed by his Star Wars collection of toys. He was an only child and was given heaps of toys. Although some of my memories are hazy, I vividly remember his star wars action figures and most of all his Star Wars ships. Those were so cool. The rule was, he could have as many toys as he wanted as long as he didn’t break them and took very good care of them. He told me this seriously and I was awed by the concept and by his parent’s seriousness about his toys.

My favorite pictures of Adam and I are of us dancing at my mom’s second wedding. We are two years old. His face has his usual baby expression, a happy-go-lucky dimple faced, wide cheeked good natured smile. He is wearing a green checkered jacket. I am wearing a long red velvet dress with a white lace pinafore over it. We are holding hands and the bottom of my dress is swirling out around me. My face is turned up and the expression on my face is one of pure joyful delight. Grown-up’s legs mix with darkness and lights in the blur behind us.

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Passing along a mass email my mom sent me:

A lecturer, when explaining stress management to an audience, raised a glass of water and asked, “How heavy is this glass of water?” Answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g. The lecturer replied, “The absolute weight doesn’t matter. It depends on how long you try to hold it. If I hold it for a minute, that’s not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my right arm. If I hold it for a day, you’ll have to call an ambulance. In each case, it’s the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.”

He continued, “And that’s the way it is with stress management. If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later, as the burden becomes increasingly heavy, we won’t be able to carry on. ” “As with the glass of water, you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again. When we’re refreshed, we can carry on with the burden.” “So, before you return home tonight, put the burden of work down. Don’t carry it home. You can pick it up tomorrow. Whatever burdens you’re carrying now, let them down for a moment if you can.”

So, my friend, why not take a while to just simply RELAX. Put down anything that may be a burden to you right now. Don’t pick it up again until after you’ve rested a while. Life is short. Enjoy it!

Then the email listed ways you can “put down the burden:”

• Accept that some days you’re the pigeon, and some days you’re the statue.
• Always keep your words soft and sweet, just in case you have to eat them.
• Always read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.
• If you can’t be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.
• Nobody cares if you can’t dance well. Just get up and dance.
• When everything’s coming your way, you’re in the wrong lane.
• Birthdays are good for you. The more you have, the longer you live.
• A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.
• Have an awesome day and know that someone has thought about you today….

…I did.

Resting in between working, sprint-like instead of marathon-like, is what helped me change a long held procrastination pattern I had. Today I rested by going to the dog park to get my cuteness fix. I like to have regularly scheduled rejuvination in my week, like church and lunch with my friends. When I wake up I write in my morning pages. What are some things you do to make clean transitions between work and make sure you aren’t holding the glass for too long?

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I went to find out what was new with UU, and I found a beautiful post by Hafidha Sofía which led me to a poem by William Stafford. This is the first time I heard of him, but I love the first poem I found.

Look: no one ever promised for sure
that we would sing. We have decided
to moan. In a strange dance that
we don’t understand till we do it, we
have to carry on.

Just as in sleep you have to dream
the exact dream to round out your life,
so we have to live that dream into stories
and hold them close at you, close at the
edge we share, to be right.

We find it an awful thing to meet people,
serious or not, who have turned into vacant
effective people, so far lost that they
won’t believe their own feelings
enough to follow them out.

The authentic is a line from one thing
along to the next; it interests us.
Strangely, it relates to what works,
but is not quite the same. It never
swerves for revenge,

Or profit, or fame: it holds
together something more than the world,
this line. And we are your wavery
efforts at following it. Are you coming?
Good: now it is time.

—William Stafford

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Loneliness was the theme of Grey’s Anatomy this week and the theme of the post over at Starling Fitness.

…don’t let Hollywood convince you that being fat means that you have to be lonely. Loneliness is caused by isolating yourself from people, not from your body shape. If you are lonely, it’’s not because you’re fat. Promise yourself that you will do something today to alleviate your loneliness (join a club, call an old friend, volunteer your time). Then, when you get to goal weight, you won’t have the shocking discovery that thin people get lonely too.

Like, Laura, my aunt R. often speaks truth to the lie of fat equaling loneliness. She tells me about friends she has that are lonely and think they need to lose weight to find love. The truth is, lots of people with fat on their bodies have love in their lives. Whatever your many flaws may be, and don’t we all have a lot of them, don’t wait. Don’t wait to reach out to someone, don’t wait to do something you really enjoy, don’t wait to go swimming in the ocean or dancing. Ok?! Don’t wait! Love yourself, and let someone else love you, now.

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DA Da Da Da! Yeah, I may look like a soccer mom, but I feel like the jammer I really am when I hear da HEAVY beat! :)

This morning while dropping a friend off at the airport, I heard three good car songs. (Luckily I heard them during the alone parts of the journey; the best time to turn up the radio and pretend I’m tough in my four door wagon.)
(The music links will take you to Amazon, if you scroll down, you’ll see where you can listen to a thirty second clip.)

• Seven Nation Army by the White Stripes better known to me as “I’m going to WICHITA! DA, da da DA DA”
• Possum Kingdom by the Toadies a song that gives me a guilty rush of pleasure to sing. It’s a bad song, but it feels so good. :)
• Que’ Onda Guero by Beck first time I heard it, but destined to be a good Dance Jam song if nothing else.

Yeah, I rock it like I rock it when the coppers right behind me. I’m runnin’ from the tow truck I know he will never find me. I look like a soccer mom but the headies start to fly, when they see my rockin’ ways and see me wave goodbye. (Add heavy beat and cool music, nod head vigorously.)

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As it turns out, part of my princessness is that I am very raw to stimulus in the environment. (Oh no! Princess and the Pea!!) And I need a breather from all that stimulation fairly frequently. You know how babies turn away when they have had too much stimulation? That’s how I am at a dance after 2 or 3 dances. I used to just force myself to keep dancing, or leave early. But last time I went swing dancing, it was different. I honored my princessness. I didn’t dance with people who made me uncomfortable. I sat out when I needed a breather from the intensity of one on one dancing and watched the awesome band, or talked with people. I didn’t feel like I had to keep going. I had a great time, and I felt like staying longer than I usually do. It was so freeing to let how I am be ok. I don’t know why it helps me to accept myself when I can identify my characteristics in a pattern, but it does.

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I went swing dancing the other night. Thanks to my friend C. who wrote and said I should come, and to my friend Andrea who called and said, “Proceed forthwith from your house noweth!” (I’m paraphrasing.) She knew I was in a bummer mood and wisely said I should get out of my house.

I had a great time and I think it was largely due to me respecting my princesshood. Yes, I’m a closet princess. It all started when I was little and my family used to call me a little princess, and they didn’t mean it as a compliment. I even had a shirt which said, “Little Princess” on it. It was pink with sparkles, I wore it backwards so I could see the words. I remember wearing it when I visited my step-brother in prison, and I still have it in my cedar chest.

I also read “The Little Princess.” It sparked many a fantasy and I, being jealous of the little Princess, thought she got her comeuppance when she had to go live in the attic. But then, she did treat the little servant girl kindly, and I was glad when she got rescued by the monkey. Why, oh why, couldn’t a monkey rescue me?! But I digress.

After being accused of being a little princess, I had to put my tiara and all my pink girlishness under wraps. It wasn’t until I was in my mid-twenties that I started to reframe my princessness. I moved in with two other princesses. They were more clearly princesses, and one day my roommate came home with a skirt that twirled. “Oh, I love skirts that twirl!” I said. “Of course you do,” she said assuringly, “all princesses love skirts that twirl.” Yes, she knew I was a princess too. Believe it or not, it was a revelatory moment for me. I just sat there, (on the bathroom floor, as it happens,) stunned. I mean, my mouth was open and my eyes were wide. I was a princess too, and it was ok.

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This is the comment I left at Feminist Mormon Housewives on Lisa’s Ultimate Polygamy Post

Well, I might feel differently if I were married, but I can sort of get the polygamy thing, not really the Mormon version, but the I-have-several-sisters-and-best-friends-that-I’m-sealed-to-forever, and what the heck, a lover or two or three. Growing up Mormon, I thought the idea of polygamy was harsh, but when I got to college and had boyfriends when my friends did not, I wanted to share my boyfriends for all the non-sexual things guys can do- dancing, walking arm in arm, carrying heavy things, and even comforting guy hugs. Men just have an energy that I like and if my girlfriends didn’t have a man, then I had an urge to share! I can also be very jealous if I don’t feel like the primary person in my guy’s life. I think my generousity was based on feeling securely loved. I can even imagine in another time and place that I wouldn’t mind my husband having sex with someone else (ok, that’s a real stretch!) if I was still his alpha and omega. That’s sort of where the idea of polygamy breaks down for me, not everyone can be alpha and omega. Ok, if I’m in heaven and there’s no men left, and my husband is unwaveringly in love with me, and there is a lonesome woman up there, and we can’t just create another man for her or borrow one from a distant galaxy, I would be willing to share. I admit it. I can’t help it! It would be suck to be lonesome for all eternity. Is this why the Gods kept coming down from Olympus to have affairs with mortals?

ps: I just accidentally published this on an old school blog!!! I deleted it quick, hopefully quick enough! Otherwise, ummm, yeah, hi old classmates.

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Today as I was stretching in NIA, after we were dancing to music as we thought of something/s we’re really greatful for, I thought, “I’m going to think of what I’m greatful for everyday. I’m going to post everything I’m greatful for on my blog! I’ll do it everyday until the end of the year! I’m going to rename my blog ‘Braidwood Praises,’ or “Braidwood Thanks.’ ” Sometimes I’m just TOO much!

Well, I just read my email, and I am going to have to amend my posting strategy. First I’ll post everything I’m bitter about, then I’ll post greatful. That will work much better.

Bitter:
GA! Everyone is nominating my co-chair for our church’s outstanding service award!!! This is very annoying for many reasons. Most of all it is annoying because I was going to nominate her- I had no thought of myself- really. But I thought I would nominate her in private so it wouldn’t look like an inside job because we are co-chairs. I was feeling all proud of her and glad she would be nominated. And then at our meeting someone else publicly nominated her, and someone else seconded it and now she just thanked two more people who nominated her on our email list!! Well isn’t that sweet. Here I am having long email conversations with people who: don’t like the way we vote, don’t understand how our list works, need such and such, and she is emailing a thank you to her many admirers. I really like my co-chair. (GA!) and like how we work together, so I knew I had to get this out somewhere. Again, GA! This is so irritating. I’m finally sympathizing with that protoypical invisible office worker who really runs everything but gets no credit. Oh yes, I have worked long effective hours. So, I ran a bad meeting once. GA!!!

Oh yeah, and I’m greatful for:
The rain, the cuddly cat, warm Mexican style chicken soup, Gilmore girls, that people let me be their co-chair (GA!!!) ok scratch that one for now, my fun projects I am working on, my talents, that I like dancing, the fun parties I went to this weekend, that my friend came to NIA with me, that I have fun Christmas and Thanksgiving plans, my new NLP guide. GA! Goddammit, give me some credit! (Sorry, sudden reversion to bitter.) And… I’m very greatful I did not give this link to my church group!! Ha! :) People who have it, and you know who you are, SILENCE!

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This is one of those passed around emails that I thought was worth passing along.

Old age, I decided, is a gift.

I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body … the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror, but I don’t agonize over those things for long.

I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I’ve aged, I’ve become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I’ve become my own friend. I don’t chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn’t need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to overeat, to be messy, to be extravagant. I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 a.m., and sleep until noon?

I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60’s, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love… I will. I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the bikini set. They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten … and I eventually remember the important things. Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one or when a child suffers, or even when a beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turn gray, and to have m youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face… I can say “no”, and mean it. I can say “yes”, and mean it.

As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don’t question myself anymore. I’ve even earned the right to be wrong. So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be.

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Hi, I’ve changed the title of my blog again. This doesn’t seem to be the normal way to do things in the blog world, but I can’t just choose one name forever and ever! It’s too much pressure! So, I haven’t checked my stats in forever, but I am going to try and post more regularly and you’re going to hear a lot of school talk. Lucky you.

Last night I had my second first-class-of-the-semester with the same instructor as my first first-class-of-the-semester. There is a certain look in professors’ eyes when they look at me during the first few classes. They see that I’m one of the smart ones. They must see it in my eyes- the shining intelligence, the quickness (don’t worry this is going to get humble soon.) They ask me questions, they are excited to have one of the kind of students they think I am in their class. Only I know their inevitable disappointment, when the bright quickness in my eyes sort of clouds over. I can feel it and I can see it in other people. I can spot the ADDer’s- the lost, confused, cloudy look. It is the look you see in the dancer’s eyes- you know, the one who is franticly trying to copy the right moves because she doesn’t know them, staring intently at the one who knows what she is doing, the one with the bright, shining eyes?

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Ani DiFranco has some mighty funky music and some of it moves me mightily. This particular track is fairly accessible. I recommend listening to Stydying Stones, turning off the lights and dancing, or drawing a sad picture, or leaning back in your chair and crying. Ani’s songs make me want to dance.

Categories: Audio, Links

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Hey my blogging friends,

I’ve had a busy week with not much time to blog. I missed two great illustration Friday themes, “reinvention” and “alone.” I sketched a quick alone idea as soon as I got the theme, so I might still put it up here, and French Toast Girl did such a great rendition of “reinvention” that that word has had it’s due.

In sermon news: You may have noticed a string of bad reviews for sermons on this site and I just wanted to tell you that last week’s sermon was awesome. It was done by the worship committee at my church and it was the most spiritually uplifting sermon I have been at in a loooonnnngggg time. It was very ritualistic and poetic. There were drums and readings and times of stillness. It was heavy on Rumi, light on theology. When it comes to spirituality, I’m definately experiential. The main message I got out of the service was, “Say yes to life!” and the message must have filtered into my body like light filled water and woken something up. I think I have been standing on the edge of life looking in for a few years now. And this week I jumped into the stream and I vicerally felt the meaning of “go with the flow.” I remember something of this feeling from an earlier time in my life when I was energetically involved in lots of activities.

This week I’ve noticed that a lot of good things just come to me and that what happens when I get stuck and start to feel frustrated is that I’m stopping something and digging in my heels, probably out of fear. So, I’ve been taking some deep breaths, relaxing and getting into the river. There’s just a little shock at the beginning but it just wakes you up, it’s not that bad once you get in. :)

And… da, da, da, da… I’ve decided to become a NIA teacher! I think practicing NIA and loosening up my body has also played a big role in me feeling more brave. So, there you have it, do a little dance, read a little Rumi, get down tonight!

ps: Just visited Ministrare and left a comment. While I disagree with Sean’s views in this particular post, I loved his sermons when I went to that church.

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Boy, I guess needed Oprah today.

I grabbed the magazine at the check out counter because of the cheery colors and thought, “Oh what the heck.” And immediately chided myself for buying something I don’t need, to try and help my mood. It turns out I do need this issue.

First, I read this amazingly insightful and poetic article about friendship unraveled by Vivian Gornick. I have a recent friendship that has unraveled, a childhood friendship that has drifted, and a current friendship that is so important to me that I already cry some(hormonally induced)times when I am faced with the possibility of it’s impermanence. Ahhh.. sorrow. There were no step-by-step checklists of how to deal, just a comforting, validating essay acknowledging the pain of endings and the mystery of relationships.

Then, I came across the breathing space portion of the magazine, which just has a calming nature picture and says “Breathing Space.” So, naturally, I teared up, as I am wont to do on this particular day of the month. Speaking of which, last night I cried til 3:30 in the morning. I started in the afternoon. I had to skip going to a movie with friends because I couldn’t stop crying. For some reason, with this hormonal influence, the floodgates of my unconscious open up, all my primal fears are activated, and my safe framework of thinking melts away. At least now, after many years of this experience, I have the presence of mind to eventually think, “Oh.. this might be the first day…” But it doesn’t help the profound core sorrow and aloneness I feel. Today I wanted to draw a picture of me with my hands on my hips saying to the world, “You disappoint me.” (Maybe I still will. If I do, you know you’ll see it here first.)

I even got out my art supplies, and with a hot pad tucked into the front of my pajama bottoms started to create! Until the pain got so bad I had to crawl on my bed and pound the top of my head into the mattress. But, back to Oprah. By the time I got to the store where I saw the magazine, the pain had become a dull throb that I could ignore. See, I had to get more food so that I could take another mega dose of pain killers without hurting my stomach. If I hadn’t been so sad last night, I might have thought of taking them then. It helps if I take them the day before. As it was, it took until about 2:30 this afternoon for them to kick in.

I saw some healthy food pictures that I could use in my inspiring “new healthy me!” collages. I read that cell phones possibly can give you cancer. I drifted past an article that I’ll read sometime about the areas in your brain where certain types of thinking occur- a possibly useful article for my life work. I read “What are you waiting for?” About a woman who got so involved with the have-to’s in her life that she no longer made time for dancing. Ahhh.. another one that hit home. This year I want to learn to be happy and I discovered a few years ago that one way to do that is…Aha! Do things that you enjoy! (Seems so simple now.) So, I want to, once again, prioritize my happiness. It’s amazing how going dancing even once a week can change the landscape of my life.

Then I read answers from Oprah. Michi from Lakewood, CA asked, “For some reason the minute I start feeling and looking good and getting compliments, I sabotage myself…” Oh Michi! I’m glad you asked that. Oprah? “…You need to ask yourselves a lot of questions about why you’ve put on weight and why you’ve dieted time and time again. But I can already tell you what the answer is: You don’t feel worthy of being loved.” Oh Oprah, you hit the nail right on the head, for me.

In another of my feel good shopping sprees, I bought a book about affirmations and decided to follow her program of writing down one affirmation 10 times a day for 21 days. I wrote down a lot of possible affirmations, but I wanted to get at the core of some of my troubles. Eventually I got to “I am worthy of my time, attention, care, love, and expression.” I wonder if writing this down yesterday and thereby directly confronting one of my core issues just as my hormonal primal-fear-floodgate-opener kicked in was a big factor in the tears til 3:30 am episode last night?

Then there was a story about Daphne Sungia who was a very healthy person who turned out to have mercury poisoning. The jury is still out on the usefullness of this article for me. Is it a synchronous warning just for me, or another health paranoia that I will eventually have to satisfy at the doctors office, spending my money and my time. Who can say? Here are the facts, the symptoms are: muscle aches, (sometimes,) blurred vision, (not so much,) skin rashes, (no,) inability to concentrate, (check,) memory loss, (yes, since I was 25,) and unexplained sadness! Check! I have been eating over three servings of fish a week and I did touch mercury once as child when a thermometer broke. By the way, exposed mercury can instantly poison all the air in a room. Beware. There’s also a handy little table in that article which says which fish is safe to eat and how often.

Then there were some big fifties style skirts I’m not too hip on, a super cool cereal dispenser, and a tulip tea cup that made me actually want to add “a set of teacups” to the ever increasing mental list of things I will buy when I’m rich.

Then the piece de la resistance in the “Live Your Best Life” section: a poem by Rumi.

This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of it’s furniture, still, treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight.

Ahhh, Rumi. So maybe it’s ok that I am still demanding and needy and… oh all my other list of flaws that aren’t part of the recipe for perfect inner peace and happiness. Ahh… so that was the Oprah magazine this month. I hope you enjoyed this review. For those of you using this review as your guide, I flipped through from the back.

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In my wanderings over the last few weeks I have found…

Someone turning a strange hobby into a lil business. Look at this site and know “YES, you too can sell your creations! However weird they are!” I like this site.

Speaking of creating… have you ever wanted to create your own font? My Grandad has the coolest writing. I would love to create a font out of it ( Just slipped into a fantasy of my Granddad’s font becoming famous.:) Check out Chank’s tutorial and let your wildest font fantasies become real.

Here is a site that has an abundance of creativity. This woman has creativity just bursting out of her. What I like most about it though, and why I am including this link here, is her description of her sweet family!

Now I’ve got to read this thanks to Cease cows, life is short!. Unless anyone wants to tell me what “Cease cows, life is short!” means!

Coming up tommorrow… my blogger wishlist!

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I’ve wanted to go to the Sundance film festival for years. When I was 16 my aunt had a movie in the festival and I was finally going to go. Sadly, my Grandma died on the opening day and we flew away for the funeral. I was just reading Ebert’s latest article about the festival (yes, reading Ebert has become my online time waster lately) and I thought, “Maybe I should make it a goal to go next year.” Then I thought, “Wouldn’t it be funny if I made it a goal to go and then I went because I made a movie?!” Making a whole movie seems over-ambitious for my skills right now, so I’ve settled for being an actress- naturally I win the award for best actress. Here is my acceptance speech: (I composed it in the bathroom.)

“I’ve never thought of myself as an actress. I can dance and I can sing… but I still don’t know that I can act. What I did discover is how much a director and fellow cast members have to do with an actors performance. So I would like to thank_, _, _, _, _, _, _ and _ for letting me be a part of this and making it seem so effortless. As happy as I am to win this award, and this will be the bragging point of this endeavor, what I am most grateful for is how much fun we had making this movie. It’s very rare that adults get to have that kind of raucous, let loose, imaginative play and that is what I thank you for most of all. So thank you _, _, _, _ and _ for letting me play with you.” Then I blow a kiss, with both hands, to my fellow cast members and crew.

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It started on Wednesday with a hacking cough and congested lungs. I had a fever of 101 to 102 until the middle of Saturday night, when it broke, and I woke up soaking wet.

Since I moved to a new place I have gotten about 4 or 5 colds. I usually pride myself on not getting sick and when I catch the rare cold, I boast that I can recover completely in 2 days or less. Once my roommate and I had the same cold and she was sick for 3 weeks and I got better in, yes, two days. My plan:

• Rest immediately, don’t work through the illness, it will just prolong it.
• Gargle with hydrogen peroxide at the first tiny tickle in your throat.
• Start taking zinc lozenges right away- 6 a day, suck, don’t chew.
• Eat chicken soup with cayenne pepper and raw garlic in it- enough of both that it burns your throat.
• Mix salt with warm water and suck it up through your nose - cleans out germs and mucus.
• Avoid cold medicines that dry you out- your body is trying to wash the virus out.
• Drink lots of liquids, of course,
• take Echinacea and vitamins, and
• eat healthy, and avoid sugar.
• Wash your hands often and disinfect surfaces you touch a lot, like doorknobs. (This is probably more for the people around you.)
  

It works! So, in the past, I didn’t mind getting a cold so much- I hardly ever got one, and when I did, I had an effective routine. Now that I’ve gotten 4 or 5 in one year, I’m feeling a little irritated and frustrated, and my treatment enthusiasm is waning. That protocol takes energy. I’m tired of telling people, “Sorry, I can’t, I’m sick.” I feel more inclined to work through the cold, so I don’t miss out on stuff. This weekend I would have gone on a road trip to Arizona, even with a cold, if I didn’t feel so bad that it would have been ridiculous. I missed a fun dance last night which two people invited me to, I’m going to have to foist my church job off on someone else today, and I just pray I can go to the concert I’ve been looking forward to tonight. Even typing this is a drain. This is one of the most miserable colds ever and after doing a symptom check on Web MD, I think it could be the flu. I have some of the worst symptoms of both the cold and flu.

Hope on the horizon: Web MD lists lots of ways to prevent the cold and flu, including getting a flu shot, (which I never dreamed I might do before.) Here is the one that prompted me to write today:

#5 Take a Sauna

Researchers aren’t clear about the exact role saunas play in prevention, but one 1989 German study found that people who steamed twice a week got half as many colds as those who didn’t. One theory: When you take a sauna you inhale air hotter than 80 degrees, a temperature too hot for cold and flu viruses to survive.

Hey, that sounds enjoyable! They also reccomend eating yogurt, which I used to do daily and now never do. Could that be the key variable for me? There have been so many changes in my life it’s hard to say what the real factors are in the no-cold, lots-of-colds difference. I’m going to drink some more liquids and take a hot shower. When I get better, (hopefully in time for the concert tonight… I can dream,) I’m going to eat yogurt and sit in the sauna. Meanwhile, I’m geting a shooting pain in my head when I move my eyes too far in any direction. This is beyond the scope of my treatment expertise. Any advice?

Wishing you health…

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I’m supposed to be at a party, but I’m home with a chest cold. I’ve had a weird couple days, I could tell you about that.

Tuesday I sang at my first open mike, I was bumped after the comedians. A punk rock singer named Wolf asked me to dance with him during his set- I did. My foot got wrapped in the over 6-feet tall microphone that was behind us and as he was singing his grand finale, it fell past me and almost hit his head. He looked up just in time to see it and caught it as the song ended. The crowd went wild.

On Wednesday “my friend,” let’s call her “Allison,” was actually involved in a car chase. I say this to you presuming you have no law enforcement connections, or won’t be able to find out who Allison is from my blog, or you know and love me and won’t turn Allison in. So, there she was coming out of the doctor’s office, (the doctor said what a fun, yet responsible person she seems like) and she sees a parking ticket on her car. She shrugs and throws it on the passenger seat. Before she could get all the way in her car, a cop walks up to her and says that he has called a tow truck and is going to impound her car because the registration has lapsed. She tells him that she will go get it registered that day, plead, plead, beg, beg. The tow truck is driving up behind her. He says if he lets her go out of the goodness of his heart, the city will be liable. For a second, she thinks he is trying to “tell” her, secret code like, that it would be ok with him if she drives away, but that he can’t give his tacit permission. She asks, “Will you arrest me if I drive away?” He is getting worked up and says that she shouldn’t do that because she could go to jail for 7 days. Ok, no secret message. In one moment she was gauging his uniform (she should have checked for guns,) freaking out about the 7 days in jail comment, and remembering that her aunt was handcuffed, arrested and s