You're welcome. And I'm sorry.

Olivia was home for a few days of her spring break! What a ray of sunshine that girl is! I seriously feel like every sentence in a blog post including her should end with an exclamation point! Because that's kind of how you feel around her--excited!
!Perhaps I should begin each sentence about her with one as well as a newly invented (by me) means of literary approbation!

Okay, that's enough Nickelback (Olivia is possibly the only person who will get that joke so don't feel badly if I just lost you for a moment there).

But I digress. What I really want to write about is a particular conversation Olivia and I had while eating lunch together yesterday. Here's the background info:

I had gone to Bel Air to buy ONE item, and on my way in I ran into Bill, who at 173 years old is most probably the oldest bag boy in the history of bag boys. He was out in the parking lot, standing and chatting with a woman next to her car. The groceries had likely long ago been loaded into the car. And probably by the woman, not Bill. Which is pretty much how you will encounter Bill on any given day at Bel Air--out in the parking lot chatting with a customer who has loaded her own groceries into her car as he chats away.

As I passed Bill on my way in, he turned from his conversation to say to me, "Hey, I've got a good story for you! I'll find you inside!"

Uuuggghhh. I don't mean to be unkind. But I was there for ONE item. My five minute trip was about to turn into a twenty minute trip because make no mistake, Bill would DEFINITELY put my ONE item in a bag for me (he is a bag boy) and carry it out to my car if he has a story to tell or just wants to gab about the SF Giants.

Usually I don't mind shooting the breeze with Bill. In fact, there are times I look forward to it. Mostly when I have a very large cart of groceries and we chat AS he bags them (so slowly that the checkers almost always have to finish the job). To extend the conversation past the checkout line is to put your afternoon at peril. But it happens rather often with Bill. And not just with me. It's kind of his identity with customers and clerks alike. We all know Bill's MO.

So back to my lunch with Olivia. I wanted to know if she ever struggled with what I struggled with that morning at Bel Air. In a nutshell, I really just wanted to get in and out of the store quickly. I also, however, was going to feel badly if I just ditched Bill after he told me he wanted to tell me a story. I don't know why Bill is the oldest bag boy on the planet. Does he need the money? Is he lonely? I don't want to ignore him when he's always so nice to me. But also--I had shit to do!

It's not like this was a life-threatening decision, whether to stop and talk. I find myself in this predicament quite often, though-- is it okay to sometimes not be the nicest person you can be for selfish reasons? Or even, simpler, is it okay to sometimes just not be the nicest person you know you can be?

Olivia knew exactly what I was talking about. She recognized the struggle.  Being your kindest self doesn't always advance your day's agenda the way you want it to. Most interesting for me was what she said is her overall tack in these situations: she said she just goes with the "be kind". She said feels better about herself when she opts to take the high road, even though it is often not the most convenient route. It was a sweet moment-- she said that she learned from me and Dave to always try to be a good person, to be your kindest self. She thanked us for that.

And this is when I said to my lovely, altruistic daughter, "You're welcome. And I'm sorry."

Because it should be okay to opt for the selfish route occasionally (I mean, there are people--in high places--who opt for the selfish route exclusively) without feeling guilty. While I'm truly happy that Olivia is a young woman who, in a world that often seems to exude nastiness, chooses to be considerate, I don't want that choice to feel like a burden.

We all have to take care of the world around us, and the people in it. But we also have to take care of ourselves. Sometimes that means putting ourselves first. Guilt-free.

Not as easy as it sounds (at least for me). I want it to be easier for my daughter.

I'm going to end this with a quote from one of my favorite people, Lin-Manuel Miranda :)

"That imaginary fight you keep having in your head is taking up SO much room. Write it out... Tell it to a friend or a shrink. Or a canvas. Or chuck it. Get it out. You need your head and your heart for bigger things. Vamos."

So I've written it out, here, the imaginary fight I keep having in my head. I've talked about it with Olivia and Dave. I don't paint so the canvas isn't going to happen. But I've gotten it out.

My head and my heart are ready.

Talk to you soon, Bill.

OMMMMM with five M's

Sometimes you find yourself doing unexpected things.

There I was, taking a deep breath and exhaling "OMMMMM..." to begin a yoga class. The instructor said something along the lines of "let us begin our practice by making the sound of all creation..." I'm paraphrasing. But I don't think I'm far off.

Now, you know me. I know you do. Because honestly there's just not that many of you that (a) know about this blog and also (b) read it. So if you're anywhere on that venn diagram, anywhere at all, you know me. So picture me chanting OMMMMM. Better yet, picture me buying the idea that OMMMMM (yes, that's spelled with five M's for the purposes of this blog and I'm sticking with it for consistency) is the sound that, apparently, all creation makes.

I am, by nature, a somewhat sarcastic person. I've been known to mock. I've told Pope jokes in the Vatican (seriously, I have). I've invented a radio show called, "Wake Up, It's Hitler!" (just the title--no actual scripts were produced). If there's something screaming to be lampooned, I'm happy to accommodate.

So, yoga. Calm, quiet, tranquil yoga. Poor, defenseless yoga.

I cannot honestly say that I didn't bow my head to hide my smirk the first time I sat through an OMMMMM. Sorry about that. Couldn't help it. It just seemed kind of a hippy dippy thing to let out an OMMMMM, and I was also slightly skeptical that it was, in fact, the sound the whole universe makes. Was there scientific data to back up that theory? I do remember, though, being impressed that everyone (except me, apparently) in that room wholeheartedly exhaled their OMMMMM with satisfaction. I hadn't expected that. It was memorable. Scientific data be damned.

Also, still at that first yoga class, I may or may not (definitely not) have participated in the traditional conclusion wherein everyone puts their hands to their hearts, bows their heads, and says "Namaste", which means 'I bow to you'.

I don't know why I didn't do these things. I think a part of me was afraid people in the class would see me and think I was a poser who clearly had never been to yoga before but was pretending to know what I was doing. This was NOT the case, by the way, because when you say OMMMMM (yes, still five M's, count 'em) and when you say Namaste you have your eyes closed, so no one would have even seen me and in all likelihood would not have mocked me even if they had because they are better people than I am and probably would never make fun of the Pope in the Vatican.

Also, if I'm being honest, I didn't participate because it seemed silly. I didn't get it, and I wasn't making much of an effort to try to get it. I was there to get a workout, not find my place in the universe.

I mocked a lot, I mean A LOT, of yoga stuff those first few classes.

There was a gong. That got rung. I mean, come ON!
We were asked to set an "intention"--what we wanted to get out of the class. I wanted to get yoga out of the class-- why else would I be here?
There was incense. Because nothing is more delightful during a workout than the smell of burning patchouli.
We ended class lying flat on our backs for four solid minutes in "savasana", which it is worth noting is the 'corpse pose'. Yes, you end yoga class pretending you are dead.

I really, really do not think anyone can blame me for my satirical reaction. In a discourteous world, yoga practically BEGS to be ridiculed.

But that's the thing. When you're in the yoga studio, you're not in a discourteous world. You're in a refuge. You're in a sanctuary-- of your own making. You can mock. Or you can surrender.

I surrendered. Which is not usually my thing. I found, however, that while I was ridiculing "poor, defenseless" yoga for being so daffy and dippy, yoga was actually kicking my ass.

I'm a decently athletic, in-shape person, but I couldn't do even half of the moves in a "basics" class. I wasn't flexible enough. I wasn't coordinated enough. I wasn't fast enough. I wasn't strong enough. I wasn't calm enough. I was not enough of anything that yoga required. Pretty humbling. And after a few classes it got increasingly hard to mock something that was clearly getting the better of me, mentally and physically.

Thus, the surrender. I decided to attempt an embrace of the entirety of yoga--including what I previously referred to as the hippy, dippy stuff-- to see if I could improve my practice.

I took a deep breath and let out an OMMMMM. Oddly soothing, it turns out.
I set my "intention", which was to try as hard as I could to do all the moves and feel the strength I had, instead of worrying about the strength I had yet to build.
I tried to figure out the gong. Not going to lie. Didn't get anywhere with that. But I tried.
Also, not super into the incense. Just yuck.
Savasana (the dead pose) became my favorite part of class. Instead of derisively wondering for four minutes what the point was of spending that much time doing nothing in a class I was paying for, I cleared my mind. I quieted my body. At least, I tried to. It's really not as easy as it might seem. Try lying down (not when you're sleepy--that's cheating) all the way flat, palms to the ground, eyes closed--and see where your mind goes. See if you can stop it from going there. See if, instead, you can direct your mind to a calm space (oh, dear god, yes, yes I hear myself--you may mock me, you have my permission). It's hard! And then (and yes, again, yes I hear this but I'm saying it anyway because you probably at some point in your life told Pope jokes in the Vatican and need a little comeuppance) feel your body, lying flat. Try to lie perfectly still. Really, really still, and feel where your body touches the ground.

This sounds so stupid. I get it. But the thing is, if you do it with a mind open to the experience instead of with a brain trying to legitimize it, it's something. I can't very eloquently articulate what that something is, other than to say you feel like you have power over yourself. And that IS something.

I'm still working on my yoga. And my sarcasm. When the instructor yesterday told us that she would be "gently guiding" us through the next hour, I think I raised my eyebrows and amused myself by picturing me telling my seventh grade students that I would be "gently guiding" them through sixth period World History. Clearly I still have some work to do on my non-judgy acceptance of all things yoga.

But I do chant the OMMMMM now (although jury is still out on its significance in the universe). I smile when the gong is struck (possibly to stifle my smart-alecky impulses, but I do smile and that's never a bad thing in the end). I attempt all the moves, even the ones I know I cannot do well or perfectly, and allow myself the gratitude for achievement and the room for improvement. And as mentioned earlier, Savasana is the pose I love most. Not because I get to rest (although yes, that's helpful because again as I mentioned earlier, yoga kicks my ass). Almost the opposite. I love it because I am completely in control of my mind and body. I can do that now. I get it.

If you've never tried yoga, I recommend giving it a go. Go get yourself some cute LuLu Lemon capri leggings and a tank top (I'm not being sexist--that's pretty much what everyone wears regardless of sex, at least in my class). Roll out a mat and plop yourself down.

If you listen carefully you may (or may not) hear the sound made by all creation :)