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Yesterday, my good pal Bane of Anubis posted a funny little blip about finding some random cool stuff while searching for Christmas presents online. Some of the said "cool stuff" included a bit of funky apparel from Crazy Dog T-shirts, and some of the shirts were quite comical and/or twisted – from “Amish Gone Wild” hilarity to frightening S’mores scenarios.
They made me think of all the memorable T-shirts I’ve seen hanging in souvenir shops throughout the French Quarter – with slogans like “I Got Bourbon-Faced on Shit Street” and “Drove My Chevy to the Levee and the Levee Was Gone.” Of course, there was one that I most wanted – a bright green T-shirt with an amusing illustration of what “Irish yoga” is all about. Dan, my sweet hubby, purchased it as one of my Christmas presents last year, and I still wear it proudly. So, Bane, in your honor, I decided to post it on my blog:
Please correct me if I'm wrong, but if my yoga knowledge is what I think it is, these are the drunken variations of the following poses: Corpse (Shavasana in reverse), Crab (Catuspadapitham), and Child (Balasana).
Every year, Dan and I try to give each other cool, funny, and/or one-of-a-kind presents. One might say it’s become a little competitive between us, and while he’s admittedly a bit better at surprising and delighting me than I am of him, I’d like to think that that’s just because I’m easier to please – and because he always manages to exceed our agreed-upon budget. (I can’t wait to see his reaction when he reads that part – hehe.)
But I have to confess... I have managed to give him at least one thing that he still uses to this day. A few years ago, I found an awesome gift in a Big Lots discount store in southern California. At three bucks, it was probably the cheapest of all our collective booty, but he loved it more than even the most expensive item (which I can’t remember now). It was just an oversized ceramic mug emblazoned with the words, “The Man, the Myth, the Legend,” and sadly, it broke amid a tumble of dishes in the sink not long afterward. Danny was heartbroken – so much so that I decided to replace it. But, as it was a Big Lots item that had since been discontinued, I had trouble finding a suitable replacement.
It was then that I had the inspired idea of visiting Cafe Press, a wonderful website that offers customized T-shirts, sweatshirts, caps, tote bags, and, you guessed it, mugs. This time, I managed to duplicate the mug – and put Dan’s name on it. And I ordered three – one for each of our homes (New Orleans, Los Angeles, and northern Michigan) – just to minimize the chance of it breaking while in transit.
To this day, it's still his favorite of all my gifts, and given that we've been together for over a decade, I guess that's saying a lot.
Well, we’re close to Louisiana now – and thank goodness! Long car trips aren’t what they used to be... or maybe I’m not what I used to be.
True, the changing scenery is lovely, and the sudden rainstorms are revitalizing (if only because we have to concentrate on not getting blown off the road), but by the end of the journey, my head aches, my body’s itching for some exercise, and my spirit cries out for some much-needed meditation.
Luckily, though, it’s still possible to get my daily dose of yoga on the road. Rest areas – especially pleasant ones with shady trees – are terrific places to do some of the bigger postures (downward facing dog, sun salutation, etc.) – as long as you don’t mind a few odd stares.
Hotel rooms aren’t so bad either – some are even spacious enough for me to unfurl my yoga mat. Even in a small hotel room, you’d be surprised how creative I can get with my yoga routine – the half-moon, tree, and eagle poses are ideal for cramped spaces. Besides, you really don’t need much space to sit still for a while and concentrate on nothing more than your breathing.
Doing yoga on the move might not be ideal, but it’s better than nothing. So, what concessions do you have to make on long journeys?
As I mentioned in my last post, I’ve been a frequent visitor to a site called Come In Character, where authors and characters can interact in a creative, sometimes therapeutic way. Well, yesterday marked my first day as a regular contributor to the site, and perhaps due to my current frame of mind, I decided to focus on “frustration” as a conversation starter.
As it turned out, several authors and their characters had frustrations of their own, which was infinitely reassuring. Not that I wish misery on anyone else, but sometimes, when you’re feeling a bit lost – hurt by the economy, confused about your path in life, doubtful that your fiction will ever see the light of day, and overwhelmed by the responsibilities and promises in your life – it reassures you to know that you’re not alone in your daily struggle... that you’re not like this sad gorilla, isolated by your own dismay.
Airing a few of my frustrations and hearing others’ troubles – even in an entertaining forum like Come In Character – actually urged me to consider the things that routinely make me feel happy, grateful, inspired, and tranquil – especially when life seems most stressful and uncertain. In no particular order, here are my eleven keys to serenity:
Willie’s music: Even as a child, I found Willie Nelson’s unique voice incredibly soothing, and his laidback spirit extremely inspiring. I listened to my mom’s records often – so much so that he quickly became my favorite musician – and still is today. I’ve even seen him in concert on more than one occasion – once, on a trip to Branson, Missouri, with my mom, and, several years later, at the House of Blues in Chicago. When I was considering a career in the U.U. ministry (a long story that I won’t divulge today), I even wrote and delivered a sermon about him – in particular, about how spirituality can be found in the most unlikely of places. For me, a lifelong atheist, I’d always gotten a spiritual jolt from Willie’s songs – somehow, his words and music calmed me in a way that prayers do for others. Even today, when deadlines and commitments threaten to break me, I just have to listen to one of his many albums, and the stress dissipates. While many different types of music – from movie scores to Irish ballads – can calm me, too, there’s nothing quite like Willie – whatever you might think of him, he’s truly one-of-a-kind.
Favorite flicks: Some of my favorite movies can do the trick, too. Whenever the current state of publishing unnerves me – whenever the stiff competition, troublesome guidelines, and improbable odds make me question the sanity of my writing goals – I simply have to watch one of my favorite life-affirming flicks, from Waking Ned Devine (1998) to Wonder Boys (2000), and I’m back on the path again.
Good food: What can I say? I was born and raised in New Orleans – how could food not be a big part of my life? In fact, it’s often too big a part of my life – I depend on it, at times, for more than just sustenance. Certain foods – like raw oysters, dark chocolate, sweet cherries, tomato basil bisque, havarti cheese, kalamata olives, and lemon poppyseed muffins – have a way of bringing me a lasting moment of joy and reminding me that there’s a lot to appreciate in this complicated world. Of course, when it comes to yummy foods, it’s all about portion control – not just for health reasons, but also because the less often I indulge, the more I appreciate it when I do.
Yoga: As I explained in a recent post, I’ve been practicing yoga (off and on) for nearly a decade, and the only thing that derails me at times is my inability to stick to a schedule. It actually has nothing to do with yoga itself – which I absolutely adore. Like many people, though, I often let projects and responsibilities usurp things like exercise – and it’s a constant struggle to realign my priorities. But when I do make time for a few yoga poses, it does wonders for my body as well as my psyche – and relaxes me like nothing else. Maybe what I need is more yoga and less cheese in my life. Hmm... that’s something to think about.
Natural world: Although I grew up in an urban area, I’ve always loved the outdoors. Whether camping in a forest, hiking up a mountain, fishing in a bayou, swimming alongside a beach, even exploring the desert, I feel a sense of wonder and peace in the natural world. That’s why I love living in northern Michigan during the summer months. It’s hard to stay stressed in such a beautiful, somewhat remote place. A long walk in the woods or a nice swim in the lake is usually all it takes for me to relax and refocus. If only I could take this clean air with me back to New Orleans and Los Angeles.
Meditation: Yoga certainly incorporates an element of meditation. Key poses – such as “cat” and “corpse” – as well as the focus on breathing help me to quiet my thoughts, unwind my nerves, and concentrate on, well, nothing. But sometimes, it’s nice to roll up the yoga mat, find an out-of-the-way place, and simply sit still for a while, meditating on the cosmic web, the meaning of life, my place in the world, or nothing at all. In our fast-paced world, it’s hard to take such time for ourselves, but I always feel better after I do.
Sleep: No matter what I do, it seems as though my “to do” list grows longer every day, and my schedule gets more inconsistent all the time. Ironically, though I make less money now as a freelancer than I did when I worked for “The Man,” I find that I work harder and have crazier hours than I ever did when I was living a normal post-college life in Chicago. I’m juggling so much more these days, and sleep is not the priority that it once was. That’s not a good thing, I know – as my mother is fond of telling me, poor sleep habits can cause all sorts of problems down the road, from hypertension and heart disease to stroke and cancer. Besides body health, though, sleep is also excellent for mental health – something I experience for myself whenever I manage to get a good night’s sleep, and I must admit there’s nothing quite like waking up after a solid rest and a medley of memorable dreams, some of which have inspired my stories.
Writing passion: This might seem bizarre, but sometimes, when I’m feeling discouraged by the modern publishing industry and stressed by all the revision work ahead of me, I find strength and peace in the realization that there’s nothing I’d rather be doing than writing. I wrote skits as a child, short stories and scripts as a teenager, longer works (like novellas and screenplays) in college, and a novel in my post-college life – and at every step of the way, I’ve loved escaping into the worlds I’ve created and interacting with my characters. They’ve calmed me – even when the road to publishing seems insurmountable – and given me a reason to keep trying.
Rich experiences: I think it’s easy for all of us to slip into regret and disillusionment at times. Am I on the right career path? Am I with the right person? Should I have waited to have kids? Should I go back to school? Should I have sewn my wild oats when I had the chance? No matter what the pressing issue at the moment, it’s critical that we embrace the positive aspects of our life experiences. When I’m feeling down about something or confused about my direction, I try to focus on the rich experiences that have defined my life: fishing excursions with my dad, road trips with my mom, close relationships with my grandparents, my vision quest experience as an adolescent, good times at Northwestern, all of the unusual travels that I’ve shared with my husband, and all the crazy things we’ve seen over the years (including the Florida Keys’ obsession with manatee mailboxes). And I realize that I wouldn’t trade any of those memories for all the money and fame in the world.
Supportive hubby: No doubt about it – what really keeps me going at times is the love, respect, and support that I get from my husband. Dan is truly my best friend, my favorite traveling companion, and the person who keeps me on track when stress and self-doubt threaten to derail me. He encourages me when the odds of publishing success seem impossible. He urges me to keep trying, no matter what, and in the immortal words of Galaxy Quest to “never give up, never surrender.” Hopefully, I do the same for him.
Loving kitty: During the first week of this blog, I posted an ode to my cat, Ruby Azazel, a furry feline with a sweet face, an affectionate nature, and a mind of her own. What I said then still holds true today. “When the best of intentions fall apart, all I have to do is look at Ruby – sleeping on a pillow, nibbling treats from my palm, staring at a chipmunk outside the window, leaping up and down the stairs, or doing one of a dozen other favorite activities – and I feel a great sense of calm, love, and perspective. Because most things – save for perhaps death or the knowledge of some terminal illness – aren't worth all the worry through which we put ourselves. One look at my crazy, little girl, and I know that’s true.”
So, what helps you overcome stress, frustration, self-doubt, and all the other nasty little entities that plague us at times?
For the past eight years, I’ve had an on-again, off-again relationship with my yoga mat. It’s not the yoga mat’s fault, of course. It’s just a basic blue mat that has served me well over the years – from my first attempt at “downward-facing dog” beneath the awning of our former travel trailer to my umpteenth “warrior” pose in an apartment above Bourbon Street. No, it’s not the mat’s fault that our relationship has been rocky – it’s mine.
Ever since I learned a few basic yoga moves from this teeny how-to book, Collins Gem Yoga (HarperCollins Publishers, 1999), that Dan, the non-yogi, ironically owned, I’ve enjoyed every minute of my yoga routines. Unlike other forms of exercise – especially anything that involves running, jogging, or sprinting – I’ve always felt good while doing yoga... and for a long time afterward. Gently pushing myself to stretch into the poses – even some of the tougher ones – has improved my strength, my flexibility, and my mental health. No other activity provides such equal benefits to my body, mind, and soul.
In the beginning, I relied on blocks, straps, and other accoutrements to complete some of the poses, but nowadays I have no need for such crutches. I simply unfurl my trusty yoga mat, pop in one of several DVDs I’ve procured over the years (or opt for Wii Fit yoga instead), and start bending. I’ve even attempted, on occasion, to use weights with my routine – something that one book dubs Iron Yoga (Rodale, 2005).
The problem is that I have yet to be consistent with my exercise. Sometimes, I’ll do my yoga poses every day for weeks on end, and then suddenly go several months without once unfurling my poor mat. It has nothing to do with the yoga itself – it’s my schedule (or lack of one) that’s usually to blame. When I’m under deadline for a travel guide, for instance, all else seems to fade away – including my beloved yoga. Sadly, I’m not the only writer who allows stress to usurp exercise – Susan Mills (a.k.a., Lazy Writer) lamented this very thing the other day on her blog.
I’m trying to make a concerted effort to create a schedule for myself – one that includes a round of yoga every morning – if for no other reason than that I want to feel good every day – that, and I’m hellbent on maintaining a “raven” pose for longer than two seconds. But these days, I have another blockade to my yoga consistency, and it’s in the form of a small furry creature named Ruby Azazel. I don’t know what her deal is – but ever since she came into our lives ten months ago, she’s been obsessed with my mat. Every time I unroll it, she emerges from her hiding-place-of-the-moment and starts messing with it. She’s even been known to hide underneath it, preventing me from getting started. Even after I manage to coax her off the mat, she’ll return a few minutes later, only to bite my ankles while I’m trying to do my “sun salutation” or an equally meditative pose. Perhaps she doesn’t think yoga’s good for me. Perhaps she’s worried that I’ll one day rival her in flexibility (fat chance!)... All I know is that it seems awfully unfair for a girl who was born with the innate ability to do “downward-facing dog” (not to mention lick her own arse) to prevent me from giving it a go myself. But try telling her that!
