Settling In

Well, I'd expected to get back to this blog more quickly. But, the facts of moving in, getting settled, turning my life around 180 degrees to become a stay at home mom (and yes, teaching 5 yoga classes a week) dropped the blogging pretty low on my priority list. But, we're baaaaack.

I must say that the culture of stay at home moms is still something that I find hard to get used to. It's a little like being an expat. When you're living in a different country, you hang out with Americans who you would probably never socialize with back home merely because the thing you have in common is being American. It's similar with stay at home moms. You're only hanging out with them at the park or the children's museum, because they have a kid around your kid's age. So, I had a couple of months of coming to that realization. Essentially, I started to recognize that I have a mountain goat of a 3-year-old on my hands. She has the the physical dexterity of a child twice her age and the bravado (and attitude) of a teenager. I swiftly came to the realization that I'm THAT mom, the one who lets her kid do "dangerous" things at the playground and therefore puts ideas into the other kids' heads. Though, honestly, I'm really not worried about MJ's climbing skills, and I'm not going to go running after her when I'm 6 months pregnant. This is one of those situations where she'll learn best if she makes some mistakes on her own. So far she hasn't made any.
I'm not without judgment myself; I'm horrified by the junk some of these moms are feeding their kids. Chik-fil-A is a big playdate meeting place here, because of the convenience of the "food" and indoor playground. I'm still working on that judgment; we all pick out battles. Being a full-time mom is rather grueling, and sometimes the diet falls low on the priority list. I get it ... sort of. 
I'm keeping this post short and will try to post again soon. An old friend of mine is stopping through town this weekend on the way back to Texas and we're going to drive through and hike in the Blue Ridge Mountains. We got a cold snap this weekend, and everyone tells me that will start the color change in the trees. I'm such a Texan - I know nothing about such things.

I'm posting these gratuitous pix of MJ at the children's museum today with her new friend Mya, who loves looking like a princess. MJ tried the princess outfit on for all of 5 minutes and was not impressed. I give her credit for trying it out, though. Then she went over to the area where kids were fixing a "car" and put in a new muffler.

The Cradle of the Future is the Grave of the Past



U.S. astronaut Cady Coleman after her space capsule
 landed in Kazakhstan in May 2011.



 "The cradle of the future is the grave of the past." - Franz Grillparzer, Austrian writer

I know the above quote seems obvious, the cycle of life and death, etc., etc., but it got me thinking. I taught my last yoga class at the health department yesterday, and I cried at the death of a practice I've devoted myself to for more than two years. And, it dawned on me fully that this move to Virginia represents an end to a long chapter, an end to my teaching in Austin, something I've been pouring love into since 1997 ... students and teachers I've devoted myself to and with whom I've forged close ties. Some have moved on, as all students should. In fact, the sign of a quick student is one who outgrows the teacher. I suspect that the sign of a good teacher is one who is not afraid to outgrow his/her students - or at least confronts that fear head on. This is not because there is no more to teach, but because the teacher needs to grow too. And to grow, sometimes one has to take drastic action ... like moving to another state. Change makes us work harder on ourselves. Change makes us work harder to adapt. And, successful adaptation is what creates rebirth, evolution, strength and wisdom.
As I was driving home yesterday, I heard an interview on NPR's All Things Considered with two astronauts, Cady Coleman and Leroy Chiao. They were discussing the dismantling of the space shuttle program. Though they had their regrets, something struck me as similar and familiar. Cady had this to say about the shuttle program: "In order to explore, we need a new vehicle. And we can't fly this one and operate this one. It's too expensive and it drains too many of the people that we need — we need their knowledge and expertise ... to develop new vehicles that will take us further. Because going further is what we're all about," she says. "It's a hard change, it's necessary and in some ways, I think it's OK just to take some time to grieve."

I teach my last class in Austin this Sunday morning. I have worked so hard to cultivate my practice and cultivate myself, to impart whatever knowledge I have to my students so that they have more tools to cultivate themselves. But this is Austin, and it is a community of very open-minded people who are considered a little (a lot) weird by the rest of Texas. We're the San Francisco of Texas. We recycle, we eat healthy, we exercise, we all know vegans and make sure there is a vegan option when we throw barbeques. we have the first zero-trash grocery store in the country. It's the place of my yoga birth, but it's also easy to teach yoga here: people are receptive.

Moving to Virginia is my new vehicle. The yoga culture is nascent, and I'm going to have to use a whole new skill set to create a yoga community as well as a new community for my family. I once joked to my beginner classes that learning how to do yoga can be compared to Kubler-Ross' 5 Stages of Grief:

• Denial (this isn't happening to me!) - "Seriously, this yoga thing is hard! I hate having to work this hard!"
• Anger (why is this happening to me?) - "I will never forgive X for dragging me to this class. Why did I ever think I could do yoga? I can't stand this teacher; who does s/he think s/he is?"

• Bargaining (I promise I'll be a better person if...) - "If I can just get through this, I promise myself I'll start going to the gym, or get on the treadmill, or go on a diet. I know I need to improve my life, but yoga is not for me; it's too hard!"
• Depression (I don't care anymore) - "I'm sore, I'm tired, I don't want to go to yoga. But I paid my money and promised my friend I'd go. I feel like a martyr. I'd rather just veg in front of the TV."
• Acceptance (I'm ready for whatever comes) - "Wow, I feel so much better! I can't believe I made it through the last couple of weeks. This is amazing! OK, it's a lot of hard work, and I don't look as good doing the postures as that 20-year-old in the front of the room, but if I keep working on this, I know I'm going to be doing something better for myself. I can already see the difference!"

I think I'm nearing acceptance in terms of moving on.

Moving to Virginia ... somewhat packed

Just got back from househunting in Harrisonburg, VA. Interesting little town. It essentially comprises JMU students and Mennonites with a small percentage of Mexicans and Central Americans who work in the poultry industry. The downtown is gorgeous, with an old courthouse and town square. The outskirts leave something to be desired. There's been a student population boom, so a lot of prime farmland and beautiful rolling hills have been converted into rental properties stacked on top of each other - no urban planning to speak of: no sidewalks or neighborhood parks. I found our place near downtown, and it looks more navigable for a mom with a toddler and new baby in stroller.
What I love about this town is that (as a friend calls it) it was the bread basket of the Confederacy. The amount and diversity of local, pesticide free food is amazing! The farmers' market does a great business three times a week. Currently, I spend most of my income on good food, and in this place good food is cheap. Polyface Farm (to which Michael Pollan devoted a chapter of his book "Omnivore's Dilemma") is 45 minutes away. It's a local organic CSA (community supported agriculture) that uses revolutionary (read old school) methods of farming.
I'm thinking about following in the footsteps of Texas' own Food Renegade, who actually lives north of Austin in Georgetown, and blogging about learning how to make real food, enjoying the seasons, and figuring out how to slow down life a little bit. It's tempting.
I met with the owner of Shenandoah Yoga. What a sweetheart! We met at a local tea shop to talk about yoga opportunities, and she brought me a container of freshly picked blueberries as a welcome gift. I love yogis. I'm so proud of our community. I promised her some class descriptions, and I may be teaching a beginners series starting in September.
A friend of mine reminded me of something today, she's struggling with a new life in Costa Rica: “The world does not come at us. The world comes from us.”
One of the most challenging and amazing experiences I had was living in Budapest, Hungary - barely able to communicate in the language but still trying. For guidance, I would remember back to the time that I was traveling interior Mexico with an old friend, speaking beautiful Spanish - yet the smiling Aussie who spoke not a word of Spanish was the one who kept guiding us to all the right places. "The locals told us to go here, the locals said this was better." It turns out that he just smiled big, drew pictures, and let his sunshine do just that, shine. He didn't need Spanish to get the job done and make friends.
“The world does not come at us. The world comes from us.”
So excited about this move, because of the challenges and adventures that will make us better people and recognize that in ourselves. They speak English there, so it's not going to be difficult in the same way, but the rules are slightly different in each place, and we're going to have to learn them to evolve.

Life Changes

Wow. Karl just got a job offer to teach at James Madison University in Harrisonburg, VA. We've decided to take it and move. So amazing that we're actually leaving Austin. I've lived here for 35 years, with some stints in Alaska, Hawaii, overseas. But yes, seriously, 30 years in Austin, all told. It's a one-year gig, so there's a chance that we'll be coming back, but this could be for good. I'm a skosh freaked out.
I think this is my chance to devote myself fulltime to yoga, to my daughter, and to the dystopia that I've always wanted to write. Not sure how that's all going to play out - a little priority setting is in order, but this is my chance.
The 6 a.m. thing seems to be working out. And, I'm pretty sure that I'm going to have to get up even earlier to get some personal writing and practicing time in.
I'm pretty sure this opportunity is the universe speaking to me and telling me to walk my talk.

Spring Cleaning - Still ON!

I fell off the wagon. I'm back on it. I've been thinking lately about yoga and what I take away from it. I'm strong, I'm more in touch with my body, mind, patterns ... more intuitive, patient, confident. There is always a new revelation, maybe not true enlightenment, but something new happens each time. Blah, blah, blah. I can talk up a storm about the changes I see, physical and mental. But the fact is these changes happen when one devotes oneself fully to any assortment of practices. And the fact is these changes can only be experienced to be understood, not talked about. I used to hear the same chorus from heaven when I practiced ballet, painted canvases or rowed a regatta while on the crew team in college. Yoga is just more explicit about how to be a good person as you transcend your chemistry and consciousness. Mystics have for ages used tricks of sleep deprivation, fasting, chemical enhancement, exercise, sweat lodges in order to change their chemistry and focus. They were on a quest to see the universe in italics, bold, underlined, blue light, etc. in order to understand the mystery better. Me, I'm just trying to get up consistently before 6 a.m. Sure, I'm practicing and teaching asanas every day. But right now, my yoga is learning to be an early riser. And, it's mindblowing. Switching gears slightly, there is a debate going on in the Austin yoga community right now about Yoga Journal's contest for its next cover model. A friend of mine, Amy Pancake, has written an open letter to YJ about her disgust for this popularity contest. I sympathize with her somewhat; it's a valid concern. She feels the practice of yoga has been watered down by marketing and adherence to unyogic values such as attachment to nice yoga clothes, appearance, or just the physical practice. And I know that there are a plethora of new teachers out there who know little to nothing about the eight limbs - and may not even want to. Sure there are people who want to look hot in their expensive yoga pants. And there are those who (seem to be) missing the point. Others will only buy a magazine if there is a sexy chick on the cover. She seems to believe that yoga can't withstand these strong yet shallow forces - like a flash flood of sterilized yoga mixed in with American consumerism. But I think it can. The fact is that yoga is just bigger than its asanas. It is discipline and contemplation and action. We are all on different paths of our journey through life, and if the least that you learn is that your body is a temple, so be it. I truly think that once you learn this, you start respecting yourself and then others a little more. The path is longer, rougher, and more meandering for a lot of us, but the work is still happening for any of us who consistently practice. It may happen faster/deeper with a good teacher, but the student must also be ready. And, we need to stop taking ourselves and our yoga so seriously. It's just a tool, a powerful tool, but a tool nonetheless. I like YogaDawg's satire about the vast and varied yoga community. Every once in awhile, I go to that site for a reality check.

Spring Cleaning - Day 4

Wake up at 6 a.m. today? Fuhgeddaboudit. Didn't make a plan the night before, and crashed while putting MoJo to bed. She has an uncanny ability to cast a sleep hex on whoever is tasked with reading her bedtime stories. It's a gift.
Anyway, no one said this was gonna be easy. Habits take a while to form, and I know that I need to plan a little better, with more specifics. I've got a 50 percent success rate so far. And the hubby is on board with helping me get this crazy early morning thing accomplished.
I was reading Christina Sell's blog today. Sweetheart Anusara teacher who has really inspired me in terms of embracing change and pursuing self-evaluation. I particularly love this little gem, "Nope, this shift doesn't happen automatically. It takes yoga of some sort, I think. It takes time. It takes practice. It takes unrelenting persistence in the face of repeated failure to learn how to make use of our discomfort so that the heat yields breakthrough and not breakdown." Amen.

Spring Cleaning - Day 3

I didn't end up practicing early yesterday. I called my friend Noelle to see if she wanted to go with me to Castle Hill and practice Mysore at 6 a.m. She had too much work to get done. She also is trying to get on board again with the early morning practice. We Ashtangis are relentless in our desire to pursue discipline ... not so relentless in our follow-through at the moment. I sort of have an excuse (Don't we always?) in that I taught a 6 a.m. on Tuesday, worked, taught an 11 a.m. and then drove to San Antonio to make a presentation at a conference. Three hours in a car added onto an already packed day. I pretty much collapsed with MoJo after reading her a story and didn't wake up until 8 a.m.
It's still an excuse, though. So I made up for (at least) the lack of practice by taking a 4 p.m. vinyasa class and teaching a prenatal at 6 p.m. Wednesday.
This morning was another story. I had the alarm set for taking Tim's vinyasa at bFree at 6 a.m., and then MoJo barreled into the room at 5 a.m. crying. Not sure if she was having a bad dream or a tantrum or both, but mother's guilt made me stay. I did get a practice in on the living room rug after she had calmed down and had gone back to sleep, though. The hardest thing to do is practice yoga by yourself.
Baby steps.
One of the reasons I think it's hard to practice yoga on one's own is that we humans are pack animals. We love to move, play, learn and sing together. I see evidence of that in my toddler. For the longest time, she would only "go potty" in a group setting. It's one of the reasons why I called Noelle, not because I needed the commitment to another to get my goal accomplished, but because it's more fun when you have a buddy - or lots of them - participating. I just finished reading this book called "Born to Run" by Christopher McDougall. I haven't been a runner in a long time. The last time I ran was when I was on the crew team in college. I love to hike, though. This book changed my mind about a lot of things, because he brings in anecdotal examples of ultra-marathoners and then bolsters his theories about the evolution of mankind with some scientific evidence -physiological and anthropological. Many of his points revolved around this thought, that we evolved to run, hunt, walk and rear our children together. We aren't very fast, but we've got the endurance and compiled brainpower to make things happen. The problem is this: We can run at a slow jog for a few days, but if our brains start trying to seek out and eek out efficiencies in our energy output, we need each other to egg us on and talk our individual brains out of their separate desires to economize. This is why a large yoga class will work so hard and get so sweaty, because without a word said, everyone knows they are in it together. When you're by yourself, you end up hanging out in savasana and balasana a lot. They have their benefits, but the energy output is definitely less.

Spring Cleaning - Day 1

Success.
I hestitate to say that getting up to teach today at 5:15 doesn't count. Having to be at the studio, fold all of the clean towels, and get the room warm is not quite the same as crawling out of bed voluntarily and practicing your yoga for yourself. But, the Tuesday morning teaching gig is going to anchor my resolve to do this every day. So it counts, and I feel good. My lord, I've been up for 4 hours already! Actually, I had the strangest sleep pattern last night too. Maybe that big super moon is still affecting my circadian rhythm, but I slept deeply last night and woke up almost every hour feeling completely rested and agog that I had so much more time left to sleep. Strange how the mind starts playing tricks on you. My head feels clear and refreshed, though. I made some nummy chai last night to siphon out of the thermos after class. Finding true grit ... and self-bribery.

Spring Cleaning

I was talking to a yoga student yesterday. She's having trouble finishing up her master's thesis. In fact, she has no motivation to finish whatsoever after having "downgraded" from the Ph.D. program.

My thoughts were that she's got to do something to shift her paradigm. I'm in some of the same places professionally; I work as a scientist for the state but want to own my yoga/wellness studio. It's always complicated. I have family to consider and therefore feel a bit like I'm in professional purgatory; I can't leave my job, because my husband is still working toward his dream ... and I'm the stable force financially. But, when you make small changes to your goals, big things open up for you. That's just physics.

So, I suggested that my student start taking a regular 6 a.m. yoga class. I found that when I was exclusively an Ashtanga practioner, which requires 6 days a week of regular 6 a.m. mysore (self-led) classes, I was much more productive. When vinyasa and family came into my life ... that discipline fell apart. Strangely, that's when professional inertia set in. Coincidence? I think not.

I'm going to challenge myself to the same goal that I challenged her to achieve. Sure, I teach a 6 a.m. class once a week, but the other days I sleep in a couple of hours. My spring cleaning challenge to myself is to charge it Ashtanga style. Six days a week, I'll get up early and do my yoga. I'll take Saturdays or moon days off. I'm still planning on doing my group practice in the afternoons with my favorite master teachers. We'll just see what happens.

I thought this HuffPo article had some neat commentary on the subject of goal-setting.

Imbalance

"The most effective way to discover imbalances in ourselves: observe the way everyone around us is acting them out." - Elena Brower, Anusara teacher

This is a tough piece to contemplate for so many reasons.

Many of us (I know I do) pass a lot of judgment on ourselves. It's easy to overthink and overanalyze, especially for this left-brained yogi. I want to come up with a hypothesis and an explanation. Observation is key, but what if the filters we have prevent us from truly understanding how those around us act out our imbalances? It's easy to assume that someone is being reticent toward you because you're too frank. But maybe that's not it, maybe it's because they're jealous of your hair. Though I guess good hair could be an imbalance.

I remember in high school, I was told I was considered stuck up because I had good posture. Thus started the season of slumped shoulders. But what was really going on? My self-confidence shrank as soon as I started shuffling around the school. I became worried about what people thought about me. Self-confidence and strength, even if it only manifests itself through good posture, can be a threatening thing for people who have little of it. That manipura chakra of self-esteem will make itself known and may be construed as egotism as well. But with whom does the imbalance lie? I leave that question open for now.

The word "observe" is actually key. If I let myself interpret, that's where I personally get in trouble. My intuition is just not honed enough yet not to take it personally. I guess that's the first - and longest - step, learning to look and listen. As a yoga teacher, scientist, mom, I feel like I should be better at this skill. I'm not getting good at it fast enough, and that makes me feel like a failure.

My yoga studio just changed hands ... essentially it went into the hands of the teachers. So we've all submitted bios according to a prearranged list of questions about ourselves. I love the fact that we are supposed to discuss what scares us the most. Me: sharks and failure. I lived in Maui, Hawaii for a year in my 20s, and the Tiger sharks were brutal; they would go after any meat, dead or alive. I had a hard time going into the water on the surf board. Soon thereafter, I got certified to scuba dive in order to work through that fear. It's still there, but not as much.

Failure, however. I'm really scared to fail! I want to be good at the things I attempt. I want enough money to put my child through good schools. I want to make a difference in the world. I want people to remember me as someone who brought about deep changes. I work as a civil servant in public health, which means no real changes will happen for years ... if at all with the "starve the beast" mentality toward health and education that seems to making the rounds through various legislatures. I see little changes every day when I teach yoga - smiles on faces, a thanks for something I said. Every once in awhile it's big: when I was a new teacher over a decade ago, a student told me he quit smoking, because he couldn't get through my yoga class. It's amazing to make those little - and more tangible - changes in people's lives. Because the thing is, I'm still learning and trying to balance my chakras and practice forgiveness and gratitude. Many times, I think I'm no better at it than any of my students.

Up above my desk at work, I have a phrase from the Upanishads posted, something to help me with my fear of failure.

"You are what your deep, driving desire is. As your desire is, so is your will. As your will is, so is your deed. As your deed is, so is your destiny."

bFree bio

My name is: Brienne Brown
I'm from: Austin, Texas
My sun sign is: Aquarius
My nicknames are: Brie, Breezy
My favorite word is: brachiate
I wish for: A wellness/yoga studio/B&B in my backyard treehouse ... and a 4x4, hybrid, VW van with a ragtop.
I am thankful for my fabulous husband who gives me the time to be a yoga junkie.
What gives me peace: writing, reading and brachiating.
Three words that describe me are: intellectual, convivial, headstrong
though my husband has sweeter words for me: vivacious, persistent and stalwart
Why I chose yoga: It helps smooth out some of the extremes that come from being stubborn, skeptical and scientific. Yoga helps me listen to myself and others more carefully ... which is key to everything.
What inspires me most is: people who walk the walk.
Three words to describe my teaching style are: detail-oriented, challenging, forgiving.
I just can't live without: a library of books
My favorite food is: spicy, hot curry of every ethnic iteration
For fun I: practice yoga, read, rockclimb, travel, knit, look at bugs with my toddler ... preferably all at the same time
I'm most scared of: sharks & failure

The Yoga of Being a Badass Mom

It comes up again and again, the physical practice of asana sometimes deteriorates when you become a parent. There is so much personal time that one gives up as the journey of understanding another human being begins. It took two whole years to get my mula bandha back after giving birth to MoJo.

So last night after a yoga teacher meeting, my feathers were a little ruffled by hearsay. Some young, male teacher at some workshop somewhere apparently espoused the view that mothers could not truly practice yoga thoroughly because the responsibilities of parenthood would not allow them to go to their "man-cave" and meditate on the nature of being ... much less get their physical practice in.

First of all, whatever form the comment took, it reinforces gender stereotypes. My family works hard not to do that. My husband is an absolute angel for giving me plenty of time to work two jobs and follow my yoga passion. He cooks dinner most of the time, takes our little girl to school, and many times puts her to bed. He even scrubs the tub and toilet every once in awhile. In many ways - though he doesn't practice asana - he is a better yogi than I for taking up much of the parenting duty. I actually get my me-time to contemplate the world and my role in it.

Second, parenting is the ultimate yoga. It is uncomfortable and scary, and you must confront it head on. You must always be in the moment, expecially because that is where your toddler is. You must work hard to apply ahimsa (non-violence in action and thought), satya (truth), asteya (non-covetousness), aparigraha (non-possessiveness), saucha (cleanliness), santosha (satisfaction with what one has), tapas (inner fire and discipline), pranayama (breath control), dharana (concentration on one object), dhyana (steadfast medication or undisturbed flow of thought), and samadhi (oneness with that object). That last one is the hardest, especially when you're trying to reach through a temper tantrum. I could go on, but I think it's clear that these are not only ways to maintain a healthy connection with one's child but also life skills that the child will pick up with observation.

Third, my daughter and I have been practicing asana together since she was in the womb. We did urdhva dhanurasana and hanumanasana together. We survived labor. We did postnatal yoga together, and I would practice pranayama to get her to fall asleep to my deep breaths when she was cranky. We play airplane together now and practice walking up the wall into handstands and headstands. The little two-and-a-half-year-old did her first bow yesterday! And she loves practicing ujayi breathing ... though she loves devolving into pretending that she is snoring. I'd still call that pranayama, though.

It all boils down to new teachers vs. old teachers; we all know that we know nothing ... But, unless you're an old soul, that fact just seems like theory at the beginning. Sometimes we think we've touched enlightenment, because we've worked so hard to practice and learn. I was - and probably still am - guilty of pronouncing things as truth, when I may not know all there is to know about the subject. And, if I'm completely honest with myself, I should wonder why people come to me to learn what they already know deep down. What makes me an authority? Possibly, I'm a teacher not because I know more about the things we all know intrinsically, but because I have devoted time to the practice.

"The Electric Church" by Jeff Somers

I just finished "The Electric Church." It's one of those dystopias that can easily be turned into an action/adventure film. There are some good ideas in there. The System is in charge after the riots and Unification and more riots. The System Police are the ultimate overpaid, gun-wielding, bureaucratic bad guys. The Monks are the lobotomized proselytizers on the street who have a habit of "converting" those with no means, i.e. the seething masses who have few morals because they're just trying to make it to tomorrow, much less their 20th birthdays. Enter our narrator, the rare man who lives by a code.
It's good. It's fast. It's not brilliant or unique in toto, but it had some good ideas.
Picky point, but I wish Somers could have come up with more than one way to explain the taste of blood in the mouth of the narrator. He gets beaten up too much for the taste of blood to be described as "coppery" over and over again. I know this is the digital age, but pick up a thesaurus.

Now on to Midaq Alley, written by Egyptian Nobel Laureate Naguib Mahfouz.

"Trying to Grow" by Firdaus Kanga

This is a gem of a book. It's about a Parsi (Persian) family living in India after partition in 1947. It's a semi-autobiographical account of a boy with osteo imperfecta (brittle bone disease) who not only has to deal with being different because he's severely handicapped, but also because he's an ethnic minority in a country that is struggling with it's post British identity. The characters in this book are so alive! Each one sparkles with his/her quirks and failings. It's hard to dislike even the most unlikeable characters, because each is so bizarre and human. Brit, the boy with OI and narrator, is so wry, witty, sassy, and thoughtful that he makes his family and friends look like a bunch of loving and doting clowns smashing themselves in and out of the clown car of his life. Everyone in this novel is "trying to grow" and almost all of them do, little by little.

One of the women in my bookclub is writing her dissertation on the diaspora that occurred after partition, so we had a unique look at the culture. Though the Parsis are not her specialty, she brought up some things she did know about this community. They're small and insular - obvious from the book. Also, they're Zoroastrian, which means that their god is the god of light or fire, and that they have fire temples and their dead are left on a hill to be picked clean by vultures. So little things that slipped by like Brit's mother being horrified by smoking cigarettes, start making more subtle sense. The funerals that occur start making more sense as well.

Beautiful read. So glad Penguin decided to pick it up and publish it again.

My birthday

One more revolution around the sun!

New Beginnings

The editor in me wants to scrap this post and start over, but I've decided that the process is as important as the product. I have always talked about that day when I stop doing all of those things I have to do and just get down to writing.
And then, something deep down snapped, the theory has become reality. It is time to do, to be in the now. Writing is just like a yoga practice, or learning a musical instrument; it must be done in order to be. Unfortunately, "to be" is a passive verb in the English language, which masks the reality. "Being" in the now requires intense effort, focus, and concentration. It may not be pretty, but it will grow, and the journey will amaze and astound.
So we begin. My New Year's resolution for 2011 is to finish the things that I start. Tall order. Many times we start something rolling and then when we realize what we've done, we want to shelve it for later. Many times, we have no idea what ball we started rolling and want to switch balls mid-roll. Sometimes we realize we've started too many balls.
That's the challenge, being more aware of the cliche of the ball.