A few weeks ago, I wrote to Heather, the creator of a newsletter for people with IBS, asking her to share with her readers my offer of free private yoga classes to get them started in a home practice.  She made the announcement in her newsletter on Tuesday, and the response has been wonderful. 

I've already schedule classes for several people in my area, and I've gotten emails from people all over the world thanking me for the offer, even though they can't take me up on it.  I've also gotten emails from yoga teachers asking for help working with students of theirs with IBS, and another teacher in my area asked me if I'd like to partner with her to put on a workshop. 

Many people with IBS suffer for years without ever finding help.  I've been fortunate to find yoga and also to find Heather.  If anyone reading has IBS and has not found her yet, I highly recommend reading the articles on her website.  It's made a huge difference in my life. 

Yesterday, a friend lent me his copy of George Lakoff's book don't think of an elephant.  I'm halfway through now, and I've got to say: if you're a progressive/liberal/leftist who cares about US politics at all, you should buy or borrow this book.  And when you're finished with it, pass it on. 

 Even if you care nothing about advancing progressive political ideals in the US, this book is worth a read.  At least it's been for me.  Lakoff opens the book by talking about frames: the basic pictures through which we view our world.  The 'conservatives', he says, are good at using frames to advance their position.  Namely, they frame their arguments in terms of the strict father model (think James Dobson) that the right values.   Members of the left, says Lakoff, and I really identified with this, adhere more to a nurturant parent model (freedom, opportunity, honest two-way communication, etc.).  Unfortunately (in terms of political advancement), we don't use that frame to our advantage.

 So, okay, politics.  Fun to read about but not a passion of mine.  However, everything I read seems to subconsciously come back to this: how can I use this information to become happier?  So I was walking down the street, and my mind was churning as usual, and it hit me: I parent myself (that is ego/self-hate parents 'me') using the strict father model, whereas the values I identify with are all in line with the nurturant parent model.  

 I don't know what this teaches me.  It's not really a new realization, just something I hadn't been actively aware of... So I guess I'll end this entry with no conclusion, and I'll go finish the book--and continue to think.

Yesterday I discovered something wonderful.  I discovered that I don't have to wear shoes.  And I discovered that I'm not the only one who thinks this is wonderful.

As a child I wore shoes only when I had to.  I carried this behavior into my adult life, but my perception of when I had to wear shoes greatly changed over the years.  Up until yesterday, I'd take of my shoes in the house or at the yoga studio, at the beach or park, sometimes when hiking or when sitting on a plane or at my desk if I was feeling rebellious, but that was as far as I went.  

Life in shoes has  done a number on my feet.  It's limited my ability to walk (that is, I've had to cut back my pleasure-walking daily mileage to under 6 miles) and run, sent me to the podiatrist, put me in orthotics.  Blech.

Well, yesterday I was looking online for something to do this weekend.  Particularly, I was looking for someone who might want to go barefoot hiking with me.  Turns out there's a group of such hikers in my area.  There are also national (and probably international) groups for barefoot hiking, barefoot running, and barefoot living.  Lovely!

This site in particular gave me tons of information, including:

• It is healthy for your feet to go barefoot. 
• It is not against the law to go barefoot into any kind of establishment including restaurants.
• It is also not against any health department regulation.
• It is not against the law to drive barefoot.

 

Who knew?  Not me, certainly.  So yesterday I left my shoes at home.  I walked straight out the door barefoot, down the sidewalks, across the streets, to the coffee shop.  It was wonderful, despite the tenderness of my coddled soles.  I got to feel textures that I never get to feel.  My breathing opening up.  And many of the people I passed smiled at me. 

 A man with a brief case and a business suit even stopped me and asked about it.  I told him about my foot problems, that orthotics only seemed to be making things worse.  He said he was wearing orthotics, too.  "People do say we're not meant to wear shoes," he said, seeming to envy my freedom.  Then he got into his car, and I walked away.  But before I did, I saw him bend down.  I like to think he was taking off his shoes.

 

 

 

I just got back from several days in Las Vegas, where my friends were getting married.  It was my first trip out there, hopefully my last.

I did try to keep an open mind about it all, and I did have some fun, but overall, the place felt so depressing to me.  We spent hours in darkness (except for the millions of flashing lights on the slot machines) every day.  We walked constantly in and out of buildings, between 106 degrees outdoors and chilling AC temps indoors, and stayed up so much later than my body is used to.  There was cigarette smoke everywhere, and crowds, and everything was so expensive.

I think I'm just out of touch with the rest of the country (world?) after living in Berkeley for all these years.  You couldn't design a vacation more opposed to my ideal.

That said, there were some nice moments.  I got to spend quite a bit of time with some really wonderful people, deepening our friendship, getting to know more about them.  I also got to spend a bit of time outside in the dry, hot air, which was fantastic, as Berkeley simply doesn't get that weather.  We also witnessed a beautiful thunderstorm on the morning of the day we left, another thing Berkeley lacks, which I miss from my childhood.

That thunderstorm, among other things, delayed our flight home by several hours, but that was okay, too.  While we waited in line for our plane to arrive, I sat down cross-legged on the floor and meditated.  It was actually really pleasant to sit there with the chaos of the airport swirling around me.  I highly recommend it.  I'm also glad to be home. 

Reading ROb's blog is a joy, always, but yesterday, something he said got me thinking about the last several years of my life.  For nearly a decade now I've been dealing with digestive problems, and I've gone to zillions of doctors and therapists, tried zillions of diets, herbs, exercises, etc.  I entered each with the hope that I'd be cured, and I exited most in complete frustration.

Some worked some.  None worked fully.  I still have digestive discomfort, and I'm still working to alleviate it (my latest trick is trying to accept it so it'll just go away on its own--as you can see, my mind's not quite there yet), but yesterday, ROb was talking about speaking with a different voice, including speaking, essentially, from his gut, and I realized I've been doing this for a while now, in a subtle way.  This inner voice of pain and ease in my gut is what's led me to veganism, to meditation, to Naikan, to zaadz.  

I've been struggling against it all these years, and suddenly it revealed itself as my teacher.  Perhaps others could have told me that years ago (they didn't, or I didn't hear them), but the news to me was somewhat mind-blowing.  So thanks, stomach pain, for helping shape my happiness.  And thanks, ROb, for helping me realize that truth.

Self improvement has long been a hobby of mine.  I take pleasure in setting goals, challenging myself, pushing myself farther.  But that also has a flip side.  I often strive for perfection then berate myself when I can't reach it.  I sometimes find myself thinking in all-or-nothing terms: If I'm not acting in perfect accordance with my goals, then I'm an absolute failure.  

I don't think I'm alone in this.  There's a danger when we try to improve ourselves.  That is, if we're telling ourselves we need to change, then we're also telling ourselves there's something wrong with us.  Cheri Huber's great book There's Nothing Wrong With You opened my eyes to this recently.  She discusses the critical inner voice so many of us carry around, the voice that says if we're not constantly punished, we'll be bad (so we punish ourselves, e.g. by calling ourselves fat).

And she gives us a challenge: stop beating yourself up for one day, and if you turn into a terrible out-of-control person, then then next day you can beat yourself up double.  Sounds easy enough, but, at least for me, it's been hard.  But that's okay, too.  The more I grow in my meditation practice, the more I learn that when a thing is difficult, scary or uncomfortable it's doesn't mean it's bad, it just means it's difficult, scary or uncomfortable.

I've been trying not be be so hard on myself for just under a week, and at times I've found myself being more critical.  But there have also been times where I've let go, where I've found myself lost in the moment.  And you know what?  The 'me' that's coming out isn't so bad.

I'm finished with my yoga teacher training.  I've definitely learned a lot about myself in the last month, and I've gotten to know a few other people as well.  Life's still pretty busy, but I wanted to check in and say hi to everyone.  Things have changed some around here!  

I've missed you, and I'm glad to be back.

Thank you to everyone who reads my blog.  It's wonderful to feel supported in sharing my thoughts.

I'm going to be doing an intensive yoga teacher training for the next several weeks, so I won't be around Zaadz much.  I'll check in when I get a chance, however, so if anyone wants to get in touch with me, feel free to send me an email.

See you again in June.

Maile

The park by my house is a wonderful place.  I was sitting there reading this afternoon and ended up talking to someone new.  I felt a kinship with him right away, much as I've felt with many zaadzsters since joining. 

He is the owner of spaceshare.com, a new business with the motto: "less cars. more community."  I certainly agree with that.   If you'd like more information, or if you'd like to volunteer, check out his website. 

I imagine you'll be seeing him around Zaadz before long, as well, but if not, he's certainly shares this community's spirit and could use our help.

For the last several days, I've been asking myself why I'm doing whatever it is i'm doing.  For me, this usually means asking myself why I'm worrying or analyzing.  It's turned out that I most often don't know why my mind is spinning the way it is, and sitting with it in meditation has yielded few answers so far, but an interesting thing has happened.  In continually asking 'Why am I doing X?', a pattern of Xs has appeared.

Namely, it seems I'm very often preparing to fight, or I'm preparing to defend myself in a fight.  I replay past conversations in my head over and over (something I already knew I did), tweaking them so that the other person voices their criticism of me and I can counter with some defense (something I didn't know I did). 

I also play out future conversations, such as those surrounding upcoming appointments and events, in much the same way.  And I do this over and over and over.  It's quite fascinating, really, to watch this going on without judging it.  I'm not sure what I'll do with this knowledge, probably nothing purposeful.  I think I'll just keep watching and see how things change on their own.