No Exceptions

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I’ve had many different yoga teachers. Each one has taught me something new and wonderful. I was fortunate enough to spend a weekend a couple of years ago learning amazing things from Deb Neubauer. I get a regular newsletter from her as well. This morning I opened my email to find her latest news. Immediately I emailed Deb to ask her permission to share part of it with you here:

“I recently spoke with a friend of mine who relayed the following story to me.  She had recently hosted a “famous traveling teacher”. I won’t mention this teachers’ name.  My friend, being the diligent sponsor, emailed this teacher and asked her what foods she might like to eat over the weekend.  This teacher sent her an exact list of all the foods she would require for breakfast, lunch and dinner.  At the end of this list she wrote the following two words:  “NO EXCEPTIONS”.

Though my friend relayed this story without any sense of judgment, this wasn’t true for me.  I first thought that perhaps this teacher was being a bit inflexible.  I mean, how often can you get “exactly what you require” when traveling? But then I looked at this teachers’ schedule and realized that she asked clearly for what her body required to stay healthy and strong so she could meet the demands of her very busy life.

As I contemplated her words, “NO EXCEPTIONS” I found that they began to percolate to the surface at odd times throughout my day.  I’d hear those words “NO EXCEPTIONS” whenever I was faced with a  decision that I used to think of as – well, inconsequential.  Decisions like whether to eat that chocolate; whether to stay up late watching that movie; whether to get out of bed and meditate; whether to check my emails or facebook, or just get busy with my work; whether to practice.  All those decisions that I used to think of as “inconsequential”, I’ve discovered are not inconsequential at all.  They all add up to a net effect of diminishing my efficiency, or enhancing it; diminishing my effectiveness, or enhancing it; diminishing my strength and sense of purpose and empowerment, or enhancing these.

Since applying the “NO EXCEPTIONS” rule, I’ve found it much easier to focus on what matters.  I make good decisions with regards to food, time and lifestyle choices with a lot more ease and a lot less confusion. When there are no exceptions, I don’t waste time wondering “what if”, or “maybe just a little”, or “not today, I’ll get to it tomorrow”.  Since going back on my commitments is no longer an option, my path is very clear.  Foods I don’t digest are not an option; activities that are not life enhancing are not an option; it’s not an option to skip meditation. Since the “NO EXCEPTIONS” rule, it has become very easy for me to release draining activities and get on with life enhancing and empowering choices.

Since “NO EXCEPTIONS” came into my life, I’ve discovered a renewed sense of inner power; much more clarity about what is really life enhancing for me; and a very easeful way to eliminate things that weaken or diminish my clarity.  I feel incredibly grateful for this teaching that inadvertently came to me.  I invite you to try applying these words:  NO EXCEPTIONS to your life, especially when you need to face an important but difficult decision those countless niggling decisions.  Find out what happens when you are faced with a choice to engage in an activity that you know isn’t really serving you.  Pause and hear yourself saying “NO EXCEPTIONS”.  See how easily that habit drops away.  Find out how much more time and energy you have for the activities that inspire you when you do not allow exceptions to your resolutions.”

Simply the thought of giving myself permission to make a NO EXCEPTIONS rule is incredibly empowering. Thank you, Deb for sharing this simple and beautiful idea. It truly allows me to feel that I’m worthy, and that helps me make better decisions in my own life.

To learn more about Deb, please visit her websites at  www.debneubauer.com and www.anahatayogacenter.com. If you ever have the opportunity to study yoga or anything else with Deb Neubauer, sign up immediately! Her teaching has enriched my life in countless ways, and I know she’ll do the same for you.

The Difference of a Day

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This morning I awoke knowing I would be going to yoga class tonight. I’ve also been doing the “Strong Body Spring Yoga” series with Staci which consists of a fifteen-minute daily dose of yoga six days a week. It started on April first, and goes for the entire month. I will likely continue doing it with her in May as well.

Now, here’s my confession. Though I started the week strong, finding time to do the poses that Staci faithfully uploaded to our facebook group each day, by day four I hit a roadbump. I opened the file, and much to my dismay, Day 4 was a Flow Class. A few of my fellow yogis already know how I feel about flow classes. While most of my friends seem to really like them, I could give them up quite easily. I’ve made my peace with Sun Salutations, although it took at least the first two years that I practiced to reach that state of mind.

But when new poses get thrown into a flow, I can feel my defenses rise. My body tightens up, my mind shuts down. I don’t want anything to do with it. So, without feeling a whole lot of guilt, I skipped the fourth day of poses. Day 5 rolled around, and I was up at five in the morning, took a shower and left the house with my husband. I spent the day taking care of my grandchildren, and stayed until seven p.m. to celebrate a birthday with them. I came home, changed my clothes and left for a bachelorette party. By the time I got home, I was exhausted. Day 5 put me to bed without any yoga done. Now I started to feel a tiny twinge of guilt.

The next day, a Saturday, I made sure to do my prescribed yoga. I was beginning to notice that while I was a little stiff and sore on Day 1, my body welcomed the new poses each day and I looked forward to it — as long as no flow was involved. So now on Day 6, the yoga felt great! The seventh day, as all seventh days should be, was a day of rest. Staci did suggest that we could play catch-up if we had skipped anything earlier in the week. I chose to rest.

Yesterday was Monday, and the new poses were up. I was down, and feeling funky. I spent most of the day surfing the internet, or playing games on my computer. I didn’t feel like doing anything, really. So, that’s exactly what happened. The daily health tip that Staci suggested was to monitor the amount of water I was drinking, and stay hydrated. I didn’t even do that. I’m not sure that I drank any water at all. Did I mention that I was feeling funky?

So, when I got up this morning, that guilt that I’d been feeling last week combined with yesterday’s malaise kicked in. At 9:47 a.m., while I was playing a game on the tablet, I realized that yesterday was in danger of being repeated, and I knew I didn’t want that! I decided that today would be the day I would catch up. I had to get online to download today’s poses, which I did. Then I shut the internet down. At ten o’clock I rolled out my mat. I opened up the dreaded flow class, and I started my practice.

I discovered that three out of four of the flows that Staci had us do were pretty simple, at least for me. But one of them put me in a tizzy. I started to feel angry, my body started to tighten up. I didn’t feel safe. It was the second of the four flows that did this to me, the one which included high lunges. Each flow started with a sun breath and moved into a forward bend, then the lunge. When I moved into the lunge, I felt out of balance. I breathed into the tightest areas of my body, as Staci has taught me in the past.

Even the breath didn’t seem to be helping. But I don’t give up easily. In fact, the suggested number of times that each flow was to be repeated was three or four. I chose four of each as penance for willfully ignoring this session the first-time around. By the time, I’d finished that fourth — or eighth (one on each side) — lunge, I could barely do the forward bends. I hurried through and came back to mountain pose. I took a couple of deep breaths to calm my emotions. I was a little concerned because even the forward bends had become incredibly difficult for me during that flow. But I moved on anyway. I had absolutely no issues with the rest of the poses, even the two remaining flows were easy-peasy, forward bends and everything.

This has happened to me before. Certain poses will bring up very strong emotions, inducing tears. I breathe my way though it, and ponder the emotions afterwards. Sometimes, all it takes is recognition of my feelings to help ease the pose. I’ve done hundreds of lunges, even during flows. What made me feel so unsafe?

I rested in between, starting a new series of poses at the top of each hour, with a break to get my dishes done at midday. I started today’s poses at two o’clock, and by 2:15 I was completely caught up. I was energized. I fixed myself some lunch and mindfully ate, which is a discussion for another post.

At three, I took the dogs out for a walk. It’s a glorious day today, blue skies and seventy degrees. What a difference from one day to the next. There’s something about this yoga, it’s the difference between gray skies and blue. It sheds light on my darkest moments, and brings a breath of fresh air to my soul. I am filled with gratitude.

Love is in the Air

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Time passes so swiftly, lives get busy and blogs fall by the wayside. Gena sent me this lovely poem this morning:

Prana is sweet, like well-steeped loose tea
It’s flowing through you and it’s flowing through me
When in meditation it’s easy to see the good in the world,
in the snow and the tree.
Hang on to that feeling and don’t let it slip.
Don’t let life’s stresses grab hold, make you trip.
Center your self. Slow down and breathe deep and bask in that prana.
It’s yours, dear, to keep.

I love my friend Gena! Her wisdom inspires my own:

Life is full of stops and starts, like changes of a season.
It’s all there in us. Flowing, going. It happens for a reason.
Sometimes winter hangs around and life seems cold and frozen.
Then gradually you see the signs. It seems that spring has chosen
to give us purple crocuses and send a sweet, warm breeze.
We take a deep breath in, and it puts our mind at ease.
Though sometimes, snowflakes still fall down. You feel a sudden shiver.
The snow may fall, but growth is there beneath us, all aquiver.
The Earth supports us, filled with prana, much like you and me.
It flows through rivers, in the wind, each flower and every tree.
Love’s energy is everywhere, named goddess, God or prana.
It’s yours to join, yours to partake. Breathe in, you know you wanna!

It seems to me that the patterns in our lives mimic the patterns of nature. Sometimes we tend to linger in one season longer than we should, having felt the cold shoulder and taken it personally, we allow our emotions to remain frozen.

Mother Nature can teach us so much, if we choose to take her lessons to heart. If you find yourself in a wintry holding pattern, whether for a short period of time or a long one, allow yourself to forgive those who need it. Perhaps it’s another, but remember yourself as well. Forgiveness for yourself is essential. When you choose to forgive, you allow love to take charge again and the new growth of spring is inevitable.

I believe that love is the carrier of other emotions. But often people forget this most essential human feeling as they get wrapped up in other forces which dominate their lives. Fiery emotions like anger, hatred and jealousy take charge and we do things we regret later. If we choose to let love temper these emotions, then regret will not come to pass. I know in my own life that when I feel anger, it involves someone or something that I love. When I feel hatred, often it’s due to the fact that I’ve loved someone first, and jealousy occurs when I love so desperately I want to keep it all for myself.

Passion is love expanding to fill your universe. Sadness stems from the loss of love. Emotional pain occurs when love goes awry, and this could lead to apathy. And although it may seem that if you cut love out of your life, you won’t feel anything anymore, that’s simply not true. It is impossible to be unemotional.

There are people among us who appear to feel less, but appearances are deceptive. Those that fear love have learned to maintain a mask over their emotions as a method of protection. It gives them a sense of control, but can we ever really control anything? A person does this not because they feel less emotion, but because the depth of their emotions is frightening.

I told a friend a few years ago that I intended to live with my heart wide open. I wanted to love more, not less. She looked at me with horror in her eyes. She said, “No, no, that’s not a good thing.”

She couldn’t yet see that opening up and becoming vulnerable to new experiences is the very thing that allows new growth. I was ready for my long cold, frozen winter to be over. I needed the warmth of the sun and the blossoms of springtime to take over. I knew that love was the path that would allow me to grow.

It’s true, the more you give, the more you get. I love so many people, and I have felt so much love in return. I allow it to wash over me in the moments when I feel alone. Those times when I am afraid, I remember the love of my family and friends. And I still love. More, every day, I still love.

The Color Vibe

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I’m looking forward to yoga tonight.
I’m hoping you are too.
I want to do a pose tonight
like hippopatamoo.
I want to twist and turn myself,
a pretzel I will be
and turn my body upside down.
It will awaken me!
And when I’m done and resting
all laying on the floor,
I’ll feel refreshed. Renewed again
down deep inside my core.

Well said, Gena! It feels so good to be back in a regular yoga class. Life has been hectic, and for one reason or another I only made it to class twice during the last eight weeks. I’ve recommitted to it once again, and I also signed up for my first 5K. I’m excited and a little apprehensive, with those butterflies that you get when you try anything new. I wish I had a running buddy to do it along with me. Then again, it wouldn’t matter because I run so slow I wouldn’t be able to keep up with anyone anyway. So, I’ll be the one in the back of the pack “running” alongside the walkers and skippers.

I’ve chosen well for my first. This is the Color Vibe, where it’s definitely more fun than run.

It’s not a timed race, so there’ll be no speed shaming (which probably only occurs in my mind anyway), and there will be plenty of ages and ability levels represented by the race participants. I should actually fall somewhere comfortably in the middle.

I’m not overly concerned about my speed. I’m working on stamina at the moment and I know my pace will increase gradually. I’m happy with that. But I do need to practice and the race is only six weeks away, so forgive me if I abandon you at this moment to go out and run, won’t you? Blue skies are beckoning, and it’s time for the rubber to meet the road.

“That I Would Be Good”

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Pain, emotional pain I mean, is a common trait that we all share. Even the youngest of us knows it. That bereft feeling when you lay down in your crib for the first time, and Mommy or Daddy is suddenly gone. We teach our children from the start how to cope with feelings of loss, and we struggle to deal with it ourselves for the rest of our lives.

A relationship ends, a child moves away from home, a parent dies. Some of us may develop better coping skills, while others may only appear to have it all together. We’ve all known someone, whether it be a friend or a relative, who wallows in her pain. She lets it envelop her life completely. It takes over her very existence. She lives it, breathes it, eats the grief she feels on a daily basis.

In the past, I have looked askance at the wallowers I’ve known. Their pain is so public. It’s embarrassing. Humiliating, even. So evident that it almost seems fake. And yet, my music deals with a lot of emotional pain. When I sing those songs in public, is that wallowing? I’m not embarrassed. Or humiliated. I’m just singing about past pain. Perhaps it’s time to let go of my judgements.

The complete opposite of this, of course, is another person with whom we are all familiar. Mr. Stoic. He chooses not to share his grief, barely acknowledging his pain. In fact, when you ask him how he’s doing he might stare at you as if you’ve suddenly developed a second head. “I’m great,” he declares. But his stoicism also doesn’t seem quite right.

I fall in between the two of these extremes on the vast scale of emotional pain, occasionally veering from one end of the spectrum to the other depending upon who I am with at the moment. I tend to lean more toward stoicism in general, but when I’m among friends, people I trust, I wallow.

I have to admit, I think the wallowers may have something. In private, when I re-read my grief-stricken notes on past painful memories, I am afforded a little more relief each time I let myself relive it. I have watched others who shut themselves down when a painful moment arises, often laughing out loud because they are close to tears. But I say, go ahead and blubber, brother!

It’s the shutting down, the clamming up, the stuffing away that might damage you. Let those feelings out, girl. Sing it, write it, shout it, scream it, sob it — but don’t stop it. Let it go, so that it may let go of you.

I love the poetry of Alanis Morissette. Talk about wallowers, she takes it to a whole new level. But once it’s sung, once it’s done, it’s to our benefit to wallow with her. Here is one of my favorites:

that I would be good even if I did nothing
that I would be good even if I got the thumbs down
that I would be good if I got and stayed sick
that I would be good even if I gained ten pounds

that I would be fine even if I went bankrupt
that I would be good if I lost my hair and my youth
that I would be great if I was no longer queen
that I would be grand if I was not all knowing

that I would be loved even when I numb myself
that I would be good even when I am overwhelmed
that I would be loved even when I was fuming
that I would be good even if I was clingy

that I would be good even if I lost sanity
that I would be good
whether with or without you

Bring It!

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Hang on to your pom-poms, people. Gena was feeling might cheery yesterday:

Gimme a Y
Gimme a O
Gimme a G
Gimme a A
We have yoga
We have yoga
We have yoga today!!
So put on your sports bra and jiggle your ass
’cause you and me, honey, we’re going to class!

I wasn’t about to be outdone by Gena’s enthusiasm. In the words of a famous cheerleader, “Oh, it’s already been brung!” Here we go –

Two, four, six, eight!
Who do we appreciate?
Gena with her lovely smile?
Deryle with her sassy style?
Staci filled with love and light?
Tracy striving toward great height?
Cecilia, she’s a bright star, too!
Perhaps the answer isn’t who.
Could be we gather for a what.
The reason that you stretch your butt,
your arms, your legs. Your spirits soar!
It’s yoga! Gets us out the door!
It’s yoga! Gets us off the floor
and keeps us coming back for more!

Woo hoo! *jumping, cartwheels, handstands* Yeah! Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

In spite of the rah, rah, I did not make it to yoga class. My stomach was rumbling, and threatening to explode. Tom was already concerned about the sleet and really didn’t want me to drive. I have to admit, we influence each other quite easily. When he voiced his hesitation, I took about five minutes to consider it. Then I sent a text to both Staci and Gena to let them know the nausea I was feeling would keep me home tonight.

Staci wondered how I was doing the next morning, and although I am better than last night I can still feel my belly on the edge of an abyss, ready to roll over into the darkness at the slightest nudge. So I’m sticking to relatively easy-to-digest foods, nothing that will send it plummeting like it did last Sunday.

It came on so suddenly. I had fixed a lovely Sunday dinner, quite like what my mother used to make. Roasted ham, smashed potatoes, ‘scalloped corn and pineapple upside-down cake for dessert. This was also much richer fare than I had been used to recently. I’ve been eating rice and beans with various veggies and lots of lovely Indian spices and coconut milk and my stomach seems to love those things!

But this dinner from my youth? Two hours later, I went to the bedroom to lay down feeling slightly queasy. I fell into an uneasy rest, and felt Tom join me for my nap after an hour or so. But at six, I got out of bed and raced for the bathroom, ready to release the last of my dinner. Up and over the edge it came, and I moaned like a three-year-old, wanting Mommy to hold my hair back for me.

I spent the rest of the evening rehydrating with many glasses of water and drinking a little ginger ale to ease the quease. While it hasn’t gotten to that point again, my stomach still rebels at even the thought of certain foods. As a matter of fact, Tom was telling me a story about a coworker last night, wherein said coworker was snuffing his sinus material back into his throat, and I had to stop him before I lost my lunch.

Dinner consisted of hot cocoa and a lone slice of homemade toasted bread, around ten p.m. That was my breakfast today also. Comfort food from my youth, at least this stuff I can maintain.

Lovely, wonderful Staci asked me a pertinent question this morning: “Is there something emotionally or mentally you’re not digesting easily?” she wondered.

Without hesitation, I agreed that there is. My dreams have been freaky lately, with a lot of stuff coming up from when I was a young teenager. So much to process, including emotions that have been frozen in time for over thirty years. Oh, and one very large fish, wrapped up in a towel and lying outside in the snow.

“Fish?” you ask?

Yes, indeed, a big one. In my dream. Random, huh?

But when I look it up in my awesome Dream Book, by Betty Bethards — my favorite dream book, ever — FISH states: “Need for meditation, spiritual food. The bigger the fish, the more meditation is needed. Also, something may be fishy, or not quite right.”

You got it, Betty, on both counts. Of course, I looked up many of the other things in my dreams as well, and it helped to explain for me some of my emotional popsicles. And, when an old movie played in my dreams last night, it brought to a head some of what I’ve been leaving unprocessed, avoiding, pushing aside, underplaying emotionally, casting away … well — you get the idea.

So here’s hoping I can start to process some of this teenage angst, and my stomach will get back to normal. Who knew that I would hang on to this shit until the beginning of my sixth decade? Who could predict that at fifty, I would be ready to finally release that painful, stressful, teenage B.S.

Please don’t think that I’m discounting the feelings of teens. On the contrary, those emotions are some of the most intense I’ve ever experienced to this day. And I can be pretty intense emotionally — just ask my girlfriends — or my husband. You probably hadn’t ought to get him started on that topic, though. It might make you a little queasy.

Snow Days

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I know that it’s early and I know that it’s snowing
but I thought you should know that I plan on going.
Going to yoga, I mean. Yes, tonight.
I have me a date with my mat. Yes. That’s right!
And I’m hoping to see you there on your mat, too
and we can do yoga tonight. Yes. Yahoo!

It was about six thirty in the morning when I received Gena’s message. I never actually responded to it with words, but I did manage to get to class. Her yogetry was spot on. Yahoo! Finally, I made it back to yoga! I even gave up my spot near the fire for Gena so she could have those toasty toes she so loves this time of year. It felt amazing to be back in class and to spend time with the other beautiful yogis in the room. We worked, we laughed, we played, we breathed deeply and moved deeply into our cores. I’m pretty sure most of us felt that core work the next day, too!

I’ve watched the digits on the thermometer range from below zero to over sixty degrees in the past couple of weeks. I’m rooting for those warmer days. February will be over before we know it, and I’ll be back on my motorcycle again. The snow is quite lovely though, I have to admit. I think it’s time to head out and enjoy it, while I’ve still got the chance.

Hey Baby

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It’s been somewhat hectic recently. It seems that the last two weeks have flown by, and so much has happened. It was January 24th when Staci stopped by at Madison’s and graced her beach ball of a belly with this beautiful original henna design.

Yes, that's real. She's all belly!

Yes, that’s real. She’s all belly!

It was only a couple of days later when the washing machine at Madison’s house decided to go on the fritz. The cold spell did not help, there were many frozen water lines, so originally we thought the washer was just frozen. Alas, the engine was dead. Soon they would be a family of five and trips to the laundromat are not the addition they wanted to welcome.

I’ve been practically living there, hence my knowledge of their daily living. But Tom and I were visiting Bob and Gena last Sunday when we got the message around four in the afternoon. She was having contractions, but not at the hospital yet.

Excitement began to set in, and we went home and waited for updates. It was funny to hear both sides of the story. I knew they had gone to the hospital when Harley texted me at 8:58 that evening to say that it would be at least two hours before the doctor would let them know if they were admitting her.

Eighteen minutes later, Madison texted to say she was 3 cm dilated and having contractions every five minutes. I turned to Tom and said “We’re going in now. Every five minutes! She could have that baby before we get there!”

We arrived around ten p.m. and settled in for a long night. Of course she was admitted, and we all started taking bets on what hour he would choose to arrive. I said 1:15 a.m., hoping it would be over relatively soon. Harley’s mom, Suzette, thought it would be around 3:00 a.m. Both times came and went, and Madison was getting tired enough to sleep through some contractions. The attending nurse guessed 4:20.

Tom and I took a break and found a couch at 3:30. We got a quick nap, waking up at quarter after four. We hurried upstairs to check her progress. Jaxson was taking his sweet time to arrive. He finally kicked it up a notch near 5 a.m.

I had watched my daughter tough it out through contraction after contraction, feeling helpless and wanting desperately to ease her pain as the tears rolled down my cheeks. When he started crowning, Jasmine (the midwife) gently wiped the goo off the top of Jaxson’s head and asked Madison if she wanted to touch him. Taken aback, Madison said “Nooo!” She didn’t think she’d be able to reach him over her belly!

Suzette and I watched as the top of his head pushed out a little, then sucked back in. Once, twice, three times — and I was thinking “Get that kid out of there, he can’t breathe!” Of course, he was still attached to the cord. He was fine! On the third contraction after he crowned, his head finally popped out. Jasmine asked Madison again, “Want to pull him out?”

Madison, triumphant and exhausted, reached her hands down and pulled his perfect little body out and up onto her chest. She looked at his face, and gently sobbed with joy. It was 5:10 a.m. on Monday morning, January 28.

Sweet perfect little boy

Sweet perfect little boy

Since then, I have spent as much time as possible with them. Tom and I cared for Harlee Jade while her Mom and Dad and her little brother were waiting to be released. They returned home late on Tuesday night. I hold babies, do dishes, play games, read stories, take naps with Harlee Jade, and bring clothes to my house to wash and deliver back the next day. This ordinary, extraordinary life is pretty amazing. Who knew?

Poor Jacob had strep throat and wasn't allowed into the hospital. Harlee Jade is a very happy big sister!

Poor Jacob had strep throat and wasn’t allowed into the hospital. Harlee Jade is a very happy big sister!

Holy Cold Weather!

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We’ve had a spell of zero-degree weather this week and it’s brutal! I had just texted Staci to let her know I wouldn’t be coming tonight when I received this text from Gena:

It’s frickin’ cold and the wind is a-blowin’
but I’ll head out to yoga, ’cause it is worth goin’.
Can’t wait to see ya. I’m gonna be early.
I want toasty toes by the fire, ’cause I am that girly!

Brave girly heading out in this weather! But I’m still not going:

I totally get what you’re saying to me,
but are toasty toes girly? I disagree.
I’m foregoing yoga. I’ll be there in spirit.
I’m staying at home ’cause I just can’t go near it.
The door to that cold frozen wasteland outside
is what I’m avoiding. But have fun tonight!

Turns out most of the other students let Staci know they weren’t venturing out either, and Gena would be the only one attending. Gena decided staying home was a better option. I hope all the rest of you are staying warm!

And so it goes

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It’s been two days since my first mile. This morning, I got up early and checked out some running sites on the internet. When I was finished with my online loitering, I suited up in layers, ’cause baby it’s cold outside. Then I drove down to the bottom of my hill and parked the car. This hill is still killer for me. I walked for a couple of minutes to warm up, then broke into a steady pace running a full two miles before walking my cool-down. I logged 2.2 miles before I reached my car again. I’m pretty happy with this progress.

I also looked for 5K races in this area to run in the next three to six months. There’s one in Naples coming up. It sounds a little intimidating because it starts off at the base of a hill. I’ll have to think about that one a little longer. I know there’s a good one close by for me. Hornell does a St. Patty’s day run and even though that’s only a couple of months away, it’s a possibility.

I know myself well enough to know that I will have some fuckit moments when I just want to stay home, and I’m trying to anticipate that and be a self-motivator. I took a page out of Bob Decker’s book, and decided to log my miles on facebook. It’s a great way to stay accountable.

On another note, Tom and I have been struggling financially recently. It’s been a fierce month, but it’s almost come to a close. Today is the first day in a month that we’ve seen any money come into the house. Of course, it’s not enough. But, I’ll pay the bills that have to be paid immediately — the ones I’m able to anyway.

I always say money is liquid. I know that soon our taps will be turned on full force again, but it ain’t easy living on the drips that come our way now and then this time of year.

Thank goodness for friends! One of the things I’ve done recently with said friends is record some music. Tom and I were at Bob and Gena’s with Tim and Carol Corrigan and their son Matt. Tim has started a CD project to benefit the Angelica Community Radio station. He’s looking for local singers to record some of their original music. It’s a great opportunity on many levels.  I was excited to be a part of the project. It feels amazing to be singing again.

The decisions that I’m making today could be life-changing. It’s hard to pinpoint significant moments in our lives as they are happening. Often we can look back and say “Oh yeah, that’s when I turned things around.” That’s why I strive to make each minute count. I’m mindful of how I spend my time, even when I’m wasting it.

I’m rethinking some of my negative answers to opportunities and possibilities. Although I gasp at the thought of it, I’m taking Jo Anna Rothman‘s advice and saying “I don’t know what’s going to happen,” before I take that next step. Because she’s right, I don’t know. Control is an illusion. None of us ever really know, despite any plans we make.

So I’m grabbing ahold of my courage and stepping into the void. Life is an adventure and I’m always ready for that.