“Yoga is the effort to experience one’s divinity personally and then to hold on to that experience forever. Yoga is about self-mastery and the dedicated effort to haul your attention away from your endless brooding over the past and your nonstop worrying about the future so that you can seek, instead, a place of eternal presence from which you may regard yourself and your surroundings with poise.”
-Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat Pray Love
My first meditative experience went something like this:
I bookmarked my page in Eat Pray Love and shut the novel that had just inspired me to try something a little crazy. In one of the best books I have ever read in my life, Elizabeth Gilbert describes her experience in India when she meditated amongst an assorted arrangement of spiritual followers. According to Gilbert, Yoga is translated in Sanskrit to mean “union,” and can refer to the union of our thoughts and the source of our thoughts, of a teacher and student, of an individual and God, or of the mind and the body. “The Yogic path is about disentangling the built-in glitch of the human condition, which I’m going to over-simply define here as the heartbreaking inability to sustain contentment.”
Also, Yoga is not necessarily about speaking to a God or obsessing over the discovery of a divine presence. Gilbert describes yoga as the act of listening to any God that you believe in, whether it be a spiritual leader or a spirit within your own heart. Or both. Personally, I do not believe in just one God, but I do believe in a ubiquitous Godly presence. Lately I have struggled with my own religious beliefs, but I generally lean toward practicing some kind of hybrid spirituality between Christianity and Buddhism. Maybe my state of utter confusion could be more eloquently referred to as “traveling down the path toward spiritual enlightenment." Who knows.
So after reading a whole chapter about this stuff, my thoughts had basically dwindled down to: Well, what the heck.
I've tried Yoga before. But given that about 90% of my blood is caffeinated and that yesterday I compared myself to an incessantly flapping Hummingbird, my mind cannot be easily settled. But when I couldn’t adequately answer the question of ‘why not?’ for myself after putting the book down, I decided to sit up in my bed and give yoga one more try.
The alarm was set on my new phone (actually a vintage flip-phone because I dropped my nice one down a mountain) to go off exactly ten minutes after I shut my eyes. Soon after, I started repeating the phrase “Ham-Sa,” which translates to “I am that” (I am divine, I am with God, I am not separate, I am not alone, etc) like so:
Inhale... Haaahhhmmmmm... Exhale... Sahhhhhhhh. Just like Gilbert does.
I concentrated on absolutely nothing but the chant. My focus became so fierce that I soon forgot the words that I was supposed to chant. After a while, my breathing slowed so intensely that I found it unnecessary to inhale for a freakishly long period of time.
I know — impossible. Maybe I was in a trance? But I seriously required no inhalation at one point for over a few minutes (at least it seemed like it). When I awoke from whatever state I had entered, it was 26 minutes after when I had started, but I was under the impression that it hadn’t even been 10 yet because my phone alarm had neglected me. Apparently, I set the alarm but didn’t actually turn it on.
I then fell into the deepest six-hour slumber that I’ve probably ever experienced. My body required absolutely no more sleep than that – six hours – because the quality of rest was so intense.
Meditation is said to reveal heaven on earth. Gurus and intense Yogis live in an enlightened state of bliss, while dedicated, practicing Yogis are said to achieve a similar bliss in very little time once they begin their meditation. I bring up this point not because I feel that I have discovered heaven on earth (in fact I’m very far from it), but because the first song that played when I turned on my radio in the morning was “Heaven is a Place on Earth” by Belinda Carlisle — And I’m not kidding. Not kidding at all. As I belted out the tune alone to my dogs (poor girls - dogs have sensitive ears), I experienced a delayed revelation about the irony of this coincidence. I really have no further comment on the song incident, except that I am rather superstitious and do occasionally believe in supernatural and spiritual signs if they present themselves.
The sickness that I had begun to acquire the day before (I felt that familiar sick taste in the back of my throat accompanied by drowsiness that usually leads to a week-long cold event) had totally vanished by the morning. My run early this morning was terrific; I felt like I was moving on air. Maybe all of this vigor is entirely inside my head, but I’m not really sure that I care if it is. Results don’t lie.
So to recap — I tried something I had read about, and it may or may not have had a direct causal relationship with the disappearance of a foreboding illness, a splendid night of uninterrupted sleep, and an energy that nearly levitated me as I ran five miles this morning.
I think I’ll be trying Yoga again.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
3 Ways Acting Invigorates the Ordinary
A few weeks ago I pinned a guy against the wall and seduced him to get into the shower with me.
You’re thinking, wow, this chick’s blog just got super personal super quick. Though that opening sentence maintains its integrity, I had only actually been “living truthfully under imaginary circumstances” as I did so for an acting class.
Today I watched some videos of the final skit productions that we had performed for my beloved theater class. The glamour of acting was introduced to me before I had taken the class when I saw my sister in a few high school plays, but I had never really appreciated the depth of its charm until I actually did it (or tried to do it) myself.
The first thing that I discovered when I started acting was that I had absolutely no talent for it at all. My performance as a treacherous seductress in my final skit probably made a few of the audience members sick. But that’s okay! I tried it. And learned from it.
What gives acting its allure? As an entertainment-based culture, we give our unlimited attention to Hollywood stars and many fight hard for a spot in the industry. All civilizations in the distant past appear to have enjoyed some form of ritual dance, song, and storytelling as well. The greeks may have ignited the first flames of theater with their dithyrambs earlier than 335 BC, but I can definitely imagine even cavemen playing some prehistoric form of Charades in their caves way before that. So what makes this art so appealing?
I feel that I've discovered the true allure of acting. There are many lessons that I hope to apply to my life both as a future teacher and as an individual after taking several theater classes. The following are just 3 ways that acting has taught me to invigorate the ordinary:
1. Exploring Perspectives
To perform a convincing acting role, you must learn to literally put yourself in someone else’s shoes. Some actors may take this a little bit too far (RIP Heath Ledger), which is called immersive acting. But regardless of the depth to which an actor may devote himself to a role, on every occasion he must dive deep into the character’s experience to really identify the character’s mindset. Children do this all the time; they allow their imaginations to be so vivid that they actually believe what they imagine. Acting means knowing the whole story about someone, as opposed to making assumptions or accusations about why a character may behave a certain way.
2. Being Mindful of Your Objectives
Our acting coach taught us that every single character must always have a very specific objective; they must need or want something out of another character. Acting also requires a character to invest all of their energy into said objective. It requires an elevation of the stakes. Why shouldn’t we raise the stakes for ourselves in reality? Our next objective (whatever it may be) should always be specific, and should always be something that we invest ourselves entirely in. Acting means giving action a purpose.
This concept also reminds me of Ruiz’s third agreement – to never take things personally. Since everyone has their own objectives in life, it makes sense that we can never be responsible for the actions of others; we are only responsible for ourselves. Additionally, a good way to discover someone else’s objective (in a relationship, in a job setting, in a murder trial), is to focus on a person’s actions rather than on their words. In any acting scenario, a character’s actions tell the truth and their words often tell a lie.
3. Letting Go to Learn
A good actor feels no shame. They release their inhibitions and they express themselves fully in the roles that they play. But how can we express ourselves by acting like someone else? Our own identities are affirmed offstage by establishing an identity that is different from our own on stage. The best way to learn from life itself is by doing things that we’ve never done before. Acting gives us a chance to do this and to explore another’s identity which we can then compare to our own.
These are only fanny-pack sized messages that I will carry with me, because the full backpack versions of what acting has taught me are too long to incorporate on a blog entry that most people just like to skim through. Also, acting doesn’t have to take place on stage — as a waitress, I put on a performance every day. Of course as a waitress I only act as myself, but I’m still selling a sparkling version of myself to my audience with eager hopes of earning some massive tips. We are all actors, but I encourage you to discover the meaningful intricacies of this art next time you’re in the spotlight.
Invigorating the ordinary means exploring perspectives, establishing specific objectives, and practicing expression through self-discovered learning.
Acting means giving action a purpose.
You’re thinking, wow, this chick’s blog just got super personal super quick. Though that opening sentence maintains its integrity, I had only actually been “living truthfully under imaginary circumstances” as I did so for an acting class.
Today I watched some videos of the final skit productions that we had performed for my beloved theater class. The glamour of acting was introduced to me before I had taken the class when I saw my sister in a few high school plays, but I had never really appreciated the depth of its charm until I actually did it (or tried to do it) myself.
The first thing that I discovered when I started acting was that I had absolutely no talent for it at all. My performance as a treacherous seductress in my final skit probably made a few of the audience members sick. But that’s okay! I tried it. And learned from it.
What gives acting its allure? As an entertainment-based culture, we give our unlimited attention to Hollywood stars and many fight hard for a spot in the industry. All civilizations in the distant past appear to have enjoyed some form of ritual dance, song, and storytelling as well. The greeks may have ignited the first flames of theater with their dithyrambs earlier than 335 BC, but I can definitely imagine even cavemen playing some prehistoric form of Charades in their caves way before that. So what makes this art so appealing?
I feel that I've discovered the true allure of acting. There are many lessons that I hope to apply to my life both as a future teacher and as an individual after taking several theater classes. The following are just 3 ways that acting has taught me to invigorate the ordinary:
1. Exploring Perspectives
To perform a convincing acting role, you must learn to literally put yourself in someone else’s shoes. Some actors may take this a little bit too far (RIP Heath Ledger), which is called immersive acting. But regardless of the depth to which an actor may devote himself to a role, on every occasion he must dive deep into the character’s experience to really identify the character’s mindset. Children do this all the time; they allow their imaginations to be so vivid that they actually believe what they imagine. Acting means knowing the whole story about someone, as opposed to making assumptions or accusations about why a character may behave a certain way.
2. Being Mindful of Your Objectives
Our acting coach taught us that every single character must always have a very specific objective; they must need or want something out of another character. Acting also requires a character to invest all of their energy into said objective. It requires an elevation of the stakes. Why shouldn’t we raise the stakes for ourselves in reality? Our next objective (whatever it may be) should always be specific, and should always be something that we invest ourselves entirely in. Acting means giving action a purpose.
This concept also reminds me of Ruiz’s third agreement – to never take things personally. Since everyone has their own objectives in life, it makes sense that we can never be responsible for the actions of others; we are only responsible for ourselves. Additionally, a good way to discover someone else’s objective (in a relationship, in a job setting, in a murder trial), is to focus on a person’s actions rather than on their words. In any acting scenario, a character’s actions tell the truth and their words often tell a lie.
3. Letting Go to Learn
A good actor feels no shame. They release their inhibitions and they express themselves fully in the roles that they play. But how can we express ourselves by acting like someone else? Our own identities are affirmed offstage by establishing an identity that is different from our own on stage. The best way to learn from life itself is by doing things that we’ve never done before. Acting gives us a chance to do this and to explore another’s identity which we can then compare to our own.
These are only fanny-pack sized messages that I will carry with me, because the full backpack versions of what acting has taught me are too long to incorporate on a blog entry that most people just like to skim through. Also, acting doesn’t have to take place on stage — as a waitress, I put on a performance every day. Of course as a waitress I only act as myself, but I’m still selling a sparkling version of myself to my audience with eager hopes of earning some massive tips. We are all actors, but I encourage you to discover the meaningful intricacies of this art next time you’re in the spotlight.
Invigorating the ordinary means exploring perspectives, establishing specific objectives, and practicing expression through self-discovered learning.
Acting means giving action a purpose.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Lamb to Lion
“Rise and rise again, until lambs become lions”
-Robin Hood
These words appeared in more than four scenes of the new Russell Crowe movie, Robin Hood. My brain engines emitted exhaust fumes as I played with this phrase over and over again in my mind throughout the movie. I desperately wanted to land on a satisfactory meaning of the phrase so that I could pay attention and not have to ask my dad which British guys were fighting themselves and which ones were fighting the French at the moment. But later on in the movie, my agony was mitigated as Robin explained to one of the characters that the quote means “to never give up.” So I realized that the phrase can be whatever its beholder wants it to mean.
This unique assembly of words probably has a biblical origin, seeing as Jesus Christ is known as both the lion and the lamb; He is the “Lion of Judah” in heaven, but He then appears to us as the “Lamb of God which takes away the sins of the world.” It could also have a capitalistic undercurrent which would encourage the pursuit of one’s own success and integrity. It could also just simply mean (as Mr. Crowe articulates for his popcorn-eating fans) to never give up.
I’d like the phrase to mean that we experience an internal transformation from lamb to lion as we persevere through hardship, and that we must rise and rise again, through joy and through pain.
We get up and we face each day. We get up and we make decisions and do lots of work and resist temptations. Well — maybe not every day. But for those days that we fight, and for those days that our tiny sorrows or relationship dramas become our own scarlet battlefields, a lion begins to replace the lamb inside each of us.
The internal lamb is a mass of insecurity, immaturity, inexperience, and weakness, surrounded by a thick coat of cushiony wool. As the lion of hardship sinks its teeth into the permeable woolen membrane of our weaknesses, we become stronger and wiser. Something larger is born within us, something with more girth and ferocity. The lion doesn’t let us surrender in the face of turmoil — he helps us to rise again. The lion’s hot blood is a powerful liquid that bleeds perseverance and moxie. He is not bothered by distractions; his gaze is focused and deliberate.
But the lamb is still a part of us. It becomes the lion; it does not get overtaken by the lion. The lamb’s becoming qualities are thus salvaged. Its tenderness, its affection, its sentimentality, and its charm remain unscathed. But it has transformed into a mighty creature: one that can transcend constraint and demand liberty as king of the jungle.
As Dianne Setterfield puts it, “we all have our sorrows, and although the exact delineaments, weights, and dimensions of grief are different for everyone, the color of grief is common to us all.” The color of grief is the hemoglobin of our internal lamb. It bleeds when we bleed; it carries our troubles beneath its wool. And though our troubles never disappear, the silent metamorphosis will gradually enable us to cope easier with life’s afflictions. The lamb’s excrements become the lion’s fuel as we eventually forget our fears and allow the lion’s ferocity to present itself as self-confidence to the world.
Invigorating the day means that I need to put faith in the lion to help me rise and rise again. It means that I need to savor the versatility of experience and approach life with an informed confidence. As I train with a Born to Run style of running, my exercise follows this path naturally. As I try to live by the Four Agreements, I must remember that the mastery of these four pathways will only come with practice, and that I can only ever do my best without expecting immediate results. By doing our best and living with love, we feed the lion. By depleting our bodies, dwelling in insecurities, and practicing hatred and pessimism, we unintentionally throw the weaknesses of the lamb a celebratory welcome-back party.
What does this phrase mean to you?
-Robin Hood
These words appeared in more than four scenes of the new Russell Crowe movie, Robin Hood. My brain engines emitted exhaust fumes as I played with this phrase over and over again in my mind throughout the movie. I desperately wanted to land on a satisfactory meaning of the phrase so that I could pay attention and not have to ask my dad which British guys were fighting themselves and which ones were fighting the French at the moment. But later on in the movie, my agony was mitigated as Robin explained to one of the characters that the quote means “to never give up.” So I realized that the phrase can be whatever its beholder wants it to mean.
This unique assembly of words probably has a biblical origin, seeing as Jesus Christ is known as both the lion and the lamb; He is the “Lion of Judah” in heaven, but He then appears to us as the “Lamb of God which takes away the sins of the world.” It could also have a capitalistic undercurrent which would encourage the pursuit of one’s own success and integrity. It could also just simply mean (as Mr. Crowe articulates for his popcorn-eating fans) to never give up.
I’d like the phrase to mean that we experience an internal transformation from lamb to lion as we persevere through hardship, and that we must rise and rise again, through joy and through pain.
We get up and we face each day. We get up and we make decisions and do lots of work and resist temptations. Well — maybe not every day. But for those days that we fight, and for those days that our tiny sorrows or relationship dramas become our own scarlet battlefields, a lion begins to replace the lamb inside each of us.
The internal lamb is a mass of insecurity, immaturity, inexperience, and weakness, surrounded by a thick coat of cushiony wool. As the lion of hardship sinks its teeth into the permeable woolen membrane of our weaknesses, we become stronger and wiser. Something larger is born within us, something with more girth and ferocity. The lion doesn’t let us surrender in the face of turmoil — he helps us to rise again. The lion’s hot blood is a powerful liquid that bleeds perseverance and moxie. He is not bothered by distractions; his gaze is focused and deliberate.
But the lamb is still a part of us. It becomes the lion; it does not get overtaken by the lion. The lamb’s becoming qualities are thus salvaged. Its tenderness, its affection, its sentimentality, and its charm remain unscathed. But it has transformed into a mighty creature: one that can transcend constraint and demand liberty as king of the jungle.
As Dianne Setterfield puts it, “we all have our sorrows, and although the exact delineaments, weights, and dimensions of grief are different for everyone, the color of grief is common to us all.” The color of grief is the hemoglobin of our internal lamb. It bleeds when we bleed; it carries our troubles beneath its wool. And though our troubles never disappear, the silent metamorphosis will gradually enable us to cope easier with life’s afflictions. The lamb’s excrements become the lion’s fuel as we eventually forget our fears and allow the lion’s ferocity to present itself as self-confidence to the world.
Invigorating the day means that I need to put faith in the lion to help me rise and rise again. It means that I need to savor the versatility of experience and approach life with an informed confidence. As I train with a Born to Run style of running, my exercise follows this path naturally. As I try to live by the Four Agreements, I must remember that the mastery of these four pathways will only come with practice, and that I can only ever do my best without expecting immediate results. By doing our best and living with love, we feed the lion. By depleting our bodies, dwelling in insecurities, and practicing hatred and pessimism, we unintentionally throw the weaknesses of the lamb a celebratory welcome-back party.
What does this phrase mean to you?
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
4 Ways to Live Like a Dog
“The lesson I’ve learned from dogs has been that rules are meant to be acknowledged, and then ignored. They do everything exuberantly, joyously, and with an abundance of life.”
-Derrick Jensen in Walking on Water
Doggie-dynamics are extremely fascinating.
Yesterday I brought my chocolate Lab and my Alaskan malamute to a dog park to socialize. The dog park is easily one of my favorite places in the world, and it costs absolutely nothing (except a willingness to clean up excrements in public). It is Doggy Disney World; it is a happy place. I discovered a lot about the personalities of my own two dogs as I watched them interact with others, just as you can analyze human socialization to determine someone’s likes and dislikes.
For example, my wolfish malamute enjoys guarding the dog park watering hole with acute diligence. There were 7 watering dishes in the corner of the dog park. She stood over all of these, growling whenever another parched, jubilant mutt would approach for a refreshment. She was also very social, however, and developed a romantic attachment with a giant poodle. My Lab’s body wiggled sufficiently when she would first meet the other creatures inside the park, but her loyalty lied with me shortly after as she proceeded to nudge her ball into my ankle and demand that I throw it for her repeatedly.
Dogs are probably the happiest creatures on Earth. Why is that? Probably it's because they’ve mastered 4 simple steps to happiness without even trying. I’ve always tried to be a good person so that I can be reincarnated as a dog, but what if I don’t have to wait for reincarnation? I want to live like a canine. Here’s how I think they do it:
1. Live exuberantly, joyously, and with an abundance of life
If you had a tail, would it wag more than it would droop? Pretend you have a tail to wag and live like an exuberant, joyful puppy who only concerns itself with the present. Why worry about the thorn in your mind if it doesn’t affect you that very instant? A dog lives always in the present, and it allows no heavy concern about the past or the future to dampen its mind.
2. Be man’s best friend
Labradors, Retrievers, and many other breeds absolutely thrive on human contact. They go to almost any extent to please people (unless they are in mischievous puppy mode), and they tend to place unfaltering trust in the omnipotence of their owners. This trust-based relationship is simply anti-human in its strength. Most dogs see the best in people first, because they assume that a person will pet them or give them something yummy to eat. They never make assumptions or stereotype, and appearances mean nothing to them.
3. Be who you are
Dogs care less about what others think of them than they care about what time “Dancing with the Stars” is on. Imagine if you could strip away all your concerns about how others perceive you. Dogs are never slaves to societal scripts. Sure they have to understand the rules of what it means to be a dog (no soiling the carpet, no sinking your teeth into pedestrians), but they never hold back in regards to their personalities and never pretend to be something other than who they are meant to be.
4. Run to run
When dogs don’t get to run, they are denying their nature and their nature erupts in some other, uglier way. Wouldn’t all our troubles disappear if we stopped denying out nature and lived as the Raramuri (the running people)? Canines mimic the Raramuri: They run because they love doing it, and they run because they need it. They are strong, explosive, and free. They ask nothing from their running, and they get pleasure and liberation in return.
I just looked out of my bedroom window and saw my Alaskan malamute roaming near the road in my front yard. In case you were not aware, malamutes are innate escape artists. Apparently, she picked the lock on the gate from the back deck where she had been quarantined to lick her jar of peanut butter clean in peace. I just chased her down with a bag of treats. Conversely, my lab has been sitting next to my foot the whole time that I have been writing this, staring me down with her eager “play with me or I’ll self-combust” eyes.
Be an escape artist like my malamute and escape human conventions. Be who you are. Show your love unconditionally and assume the best of people before you get to know them. Live exuberantly, joyously, and with abundance of life.
Be your own best friend.
-Derrick Jensen in Walking on Water
Doggie-dynamics are extremely fascinating.
Yesterday I brought my chocolate Lab and my Alaskan malamute to a dog park to socialize. The dog park is easily one of my favorite places in the world, and it costs absolutely nothing (except a willingness to clean up excrements in public). It is Doggy Disney World; it is a happy place. I discovered a lot about the personalities of my own two dogs as I watched them interact with others, just as you can analyze human socialization to determine someone’s likes and dislikes.
For example, my wolfish malamute enjoys guarding the dog park watering hole with acute diligence. There were 7 watering dishes in the corner of the dog park. She stood over all of these, growling whenever another parched, jubilant mutt would approach for a refreshment. She was also very social, however, and developed a romantic attachment with a giant poodle. My Lab’s body wiggled sufficiently when she would first meet the other creatures inside the park, but her loyalty lied with me shortly after as she proceeded to nudge her ball into my ankle and demand that I throw it for her repeatedly.
Dogs are probably the happiest creatures on Earth. Why is that? Probably it's because they’ve mastered 4 simple steps to happiness without even trying. I’ve always tried to be a good person so that I can be reincarnated as a dog, but what if I don’t have to wait for reincarnation? I want to live like a canine. Here’s how I think they do it:
1. Live exuberantly, joyously, and with an abundance of life
If you had a tail, would it wag more than it would droop? Pretend you have a tail to wag and live like an exuberant, joyful puppy who only concerns itself with the present. Why worry about the thorn in your mind if it doesn’t affect you that very instant? A dog lives always in the present, and it allows no heavy concern about the past or the future to dampen its mind.
2. Be man’s best friend
Labradors, Retrievers, and many other breeds absolutely thrive on human contact. They go to almost any extent to please people (unless they are in mischievous puppy mode), and they tend to place unfaltering trust in the omnipotence of their owners. This trust-based relationship is simply anti-human in its strength. Most dogs see the best in people first, because they assume that a person will pet them or give them something yummy to eat. They never make assumptions or stereotype, and appearances mean nothing to them.
3. Be who you are
Dogs care less about what others think of them than they care about what time “Dancing with the Stars” is on. Imagine if you could strip away all your concerns about how others perceive you. Dogs are never slaves to societal scripts. Sure they have to understand the rules of what it means to be a dog (no soiling the carpet, no sinking your teeth into pedestrians), but they never hold back in regards to their personalities and never pretend to be something other than who they are meant to be.
4. Run to run
When dogs don’t get to run, they are denying their nature and their nature erupts in some other, uglier way. Wouldn’t all our troubles disappear if we stopped denying out nature and lived as the Raramuri (the running people)? Canines mimic the Raramuri: They run because they love doing it, and they run because they need it. They are strong, explosive, and free. They ask nothing from their running, and they get pleasure and liberation in return.
I just looked out of my bedroom window and saw my Alaskan malamute roaming near the road in my front yard. In case you were not aware, malamutes are innate escape artists. Apparently, she picked the lock on the gate from the back deck where she had been quarantined to lick her jar of peanut butter clean in peace. I just chased her down with a bag of treats. Conversely, my lab has been sitting next to my foot the whole time that I have been writing this, staring me down with her eager “play with me or I’ll self-combust” eyes.
Be an escape artist like my malamute and escape human conventions. Be who you are. Show your love unconditionally and assume the best of people before you get to know them. Live exuberantly, joyously, and with abundance of life.
Be your own best friend.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Cleaning to Cleanse
Yesterday I experienced a natural high.
The old, slobbish me would have never believed the current Meghan if she were to tell her that this high arose from cleaning her entire house.
Two days ago, the sliding door that leads to our deck had caused four of my family members to scrunch their faces up in agitation because it kept getting jammed half-way through the act of opening it. I watched as stress consumed each of these individuals for a few seconds after they wriggled it open, and then watched as they proceeded to walk through it and ignore the jam.
This is a common theme among many fast-paced American families. We pass by a clock that wears the time of two hours past or we put up a picture to cover a conspicuous hole in the wall when we don't have time to mend our environment because we're too busy trying to mend ourselves. In order to invigorate the mind, however, we must invigorate our living spaces.
I hunted down a can of WD-40 in my garage after witnessing the fourth display of door-provoked agitation. I greased the bottom of the door, and the door suddenly began to slide like a bar of soap on the bottom of a bathtub. I had fixed it! I actually fixed it. It required maybe two minutes of effort to save my family the stress of having to constantly pry open an annoying door whose original function was to slide.
I was inspired by the door crisis, and spent the next two whole days re-modeling and de-cluttering the whole house. My room was targeted first, as I attacked all the furniture and threw away useless junk that had accumulated there for years. Random vines that used to hang from the ceiling (I had a jungle theme) and tacky plastic stars that cluttered the walls now reside in large black trash bags, and everything is more organized.
The rest of the house required that I seriously step up my game. The disorganization in my home does not occur because we fail as a household to maintain order; it is just a result of many minor instances of laziness that are 100% preventable. My mother labors constantly to keep her house clean with painstaking efforts, but wherever there are two men and two dogs occupying the same space there are inevitable sanitary emergencies.
It's so easy to be a slob when you believe that there are more important things to worry about in life, but the reality is that your environment directly impacts your mood. If I want to live by the four agreements and feel like I am born to run, I can't expect to give myself entirely to these tasks unless my living space encourages me to do it. Clutter overwhelms and stresses, while an organized, clean area invites action and healthy living. But what is the one ingredient for an organized paradise? Self-discipline.
Self-discipline makes us stronger people. If you concentrate fully on any task that you do and let each moment consume you, you will never miss a chance to live. If you procrastinate, your mind will grow heavy. There is plenty of time in each day to devote your mind to self-discipline and to then allow it to recuperate at a later period. We are fully capable of applying the amount of self-discipline that maintaining a clean home requires, but sometimes we get lazy. This is why I decided to create reminder notes.
In order to encourage self-discipline in my household, I planted florescent reminder notes around my house in formerly clutter-concentrated areas. I actually made signs that say "clutter-free zone" for open spaces and "take me out when I am full" for the underbelly of our trashcan lid. We definitely don't need these notes, and most people would say they are excessive and ridiculous. But reminders can’t hurt. I want the makeover of my home to last because clean living space actually gave me a natural high.
During my run yesterday, I felt like a champ. I burst down the road for a 4 miler, and didn't slow down until I reached my front door again. I couldn’t fathom how having a clean area to live in could actually energize me, but now I realize how this was possible. If you let your environment get out of control, you feel like a failure on a small level. Letting your home get messy means that you have surrendered to external pressures, because you have allowed them to make you feel that you don't have enough time to take care of your living space. When you regain control of your personal setting, you regain control of your life. Why shouldn't we give ourselves time to make sure doors are fixed and floors are clean? We deserve it.
Nurturing your environment is a harmless drug that can bought with self-discipline. WD-40 something. Clean to cleanse yourself and you will feel fabulous.
Invigorate your living space, invigorate your mind.
The old, slobbish me would have never believed the current Meghan if she were to tell her that this high arose from cleaning her entire house.
Two days ago, the sliding door that leads to our deck had caused four of my family members to scrunch their faces up in agitation because it kept getting jammed half-way through the act of opening it. I watched as stress consumed each of these individuals for a few seconds after they wriggled it open, and then watched as they proceeded to walk through it and ignore the jam.
This is a common theme among many fast-paced American families. We pass by a clock that wears the time of two hours past or we put up a picture to cover a conspicuous hole in the wall when we don't have time to mend our environment because we're too busy trying to mend ourselves. In order to invigorate the mind, however, we must invigorate our living spaces.
I hunted down a can of WD-40 in my garage after witnessing the fourth display of door-provoked agitation. I greased the bottom of the door, and the door suddenly began to slide like a bar of soap on the bottom of a bathtub. I had fixed it! I actually fixed it. It required maybe two minutes of effort to save my family the stress of having to constantly pry open an annoying door whose original function was to slide.
I was inspired by the door crisis, and spent the next two whole days re-modeling and de-cluttering the whole house. My room was targeted first, as I attacked all the furniture and threw away useless junk that had accumulated there for years. Random vines that used to hang from the ceiling (I had a jungle theme) and tacky plastic stars that cluttered the walls now reside in large black trash bags, and everything is more organized.
The rest of the house required that I seriously step up my game. The disorganization in my home does not occur because we fail as a household to maintain order; it is just a result of many minor instances of laziness that are 100% preventable. My mother labors constantly to keep her house clean with painstaking efforts, but wherever there are two men and two dogs occupying the same space there are inevitable sanitary emergencies.
It's so easy to be a slob when you believe that there are more important things to worry about in life, but the reality is that your environment directly impacts your mood. If I want to live by the four agreements and feel like I am born to run, I can't expect to give myself entirely to these tasks unless my living space encourages me to do it. Clutter overwhelms and stresses, while an organized, clean area invites action and healthy living. But what is the one ingredient for an organized paradise? Self-discipline.
Self-discipline makes us stronger people. If you concentrate fully on any task that you do and let each moment consume you, you will never miss a chance to live. If you procrastinate, your mind will grow heavy. There is plenty of time in each day to devote your mind to self-discipline and to then allow it to recuperate at a later period. We are fully capable of applying the amount of self-discipline that maintaining a clean home requires, but sometimes we get lazy. This is why I decided to create reminder notes.
In order to encourage self-discipline in my household, I planted florescent reminder notes around my house in formerly clutter-concentrated areas. I actually made signs that say "clutter-free zone" for open spaces and "take me out when I am full" for the underbelly of our trashcan lid. We definitely don't need these notes, and most people would say they are excessive and ridiculous. But reminders can’t hurt. I want the makeover of my home to last because clean living space actually gave me a natural high.
During my run yesterday, I felt like a champ. I burst down the road for a 4 miler, and didn't slow down until I reached my front door again. I couldn’t fathom how having a clean area to live in could actually energize me, but now I realize how this was possible. If you let your environment get out of control, you feel like a failure on a small level. Letting your home get messy means that you have surrendered to external pressures, because you have allowed them to make you feel that you don't have enough time to take care of your living space. When you regain control of your personal setting, you regain control of your life. Why shouldn't we give ourselves time to make sure doors are fixed and floors are clean? We deserve it.
Nurturing your environment is a harmless drug that can bought with self-discipline. WD-40 something. Clean to cleanse yourself and you will feel fabulous.
Invigorate your living space, invigorate your mind.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Celebrate the Me, the You, and the We
"How much you love yourself and how you feel about yourself
are directly proportionate to the quality and integrity of your word."
-Don Ruiz in The Four Agreements
I celebrate myself today.
In the midst of preparing for large events, transitioning into new phases of our lives, or stressing because of work, it's easy to forget how awesome we are.
In the spirit of finishing finals, I reflected on how great it is to celebrate one's self each day. After I finished my hardest final today, I took a picture of the twelve novels that I had read for one of my classes (yes, I'm a dork). But isn't that great! Twelve novels. Maybe it's not so great, but I can choose to believe that it is. And by choosing to give myself lots of credit for it, I feel empowered.
Capitalism...football...and American Idol. In America, we strive to be the greatest. Competitiveness thrives, and there’s always someone who we need to be superior to in order to get ahead. Judging our own abilities against the talents of others can be good only if it serves as a catalyst for increased work ethic. But we often get disappointed when we compare ourselves to others, because we realize that there is always someone who is just a little smarter than us, or funnier, or more athletic, etc. So why compare ourselves? It amazes me to realize that we are all extraordinary individuals. Each one of us has a completely unique set of accomplishments that no one else has. And each one of us has an assembly of physical and internal characteristics that is completely self-exclusive. Not one organism on planet Earth shares the exact same genetic makeup with you (clones don’t count).
Walt Whitman knows what I'm talking about. In Leaves of Grass, his poem "I Celebrate Myself" elaborates beautifully on this idea. And Hawthorne lifted his brow in the nineteenth-century as he wondered why "it is very queer, but not the less true, that people are generally quite as vain, or even more so, of their deficiences, than of their available gifts" in The House of the Seven Gables. Our insecurities govern our thoughts and our actions so much that we forget what amazing creatures we truly are. You have given a piece of yourself to everything you have done and everywhere you have been, and so you are connected to all the goals that you have achieved. Any time you walk up the stairs (why does this kill me no matter how good of shape I'm in?), show someone affection, or read a new book, celebrate yourself! When a group of girls rode up an 1100 ft high mountain on bikes with me last week, I told them that we needed to be way more impressed with ourselves than we already were. We are beasts.
When we're not celebrating ourselves, we should be celebrating others. Or, as Dr. Heather Holleman points out in her Live with Flair blog entry(http://livewithflair.blogspot.com/2010/04/ask-this-question.html), "when you can't be in the spotlight, be the spotlight." Shine a light on someone else's beauty! By celebrating others we can destroy jealousy, battle insecurity, and conquer inferiority.
Mother's day is coming up. Moms, you should give yourselves an infinite number of pats on the back. Your endless supply of selfless devotion is absolutely astonishing. Those who haven't mothered a child should celebrate these domestic overseers for anything and everything they have done, and thank them with their utmost sincerity.
Life will be a party if we celebrate ourselves and others.
Let no tiny triumph escape your radar.
I am super awesome for writing this.
are directly proportionate to the quality and integrity of your word."
-Don Ruiz in The Four Agreements
I celebrate myself today.
In the midst of preparing for large events, transitioning into new phases of our lives, or stressing because of work, it's easy to forget how awesome we are.
In the spirit of finishing finals, I reflected on how great it is to celebrate one's self each day. After I finished my hardest final today, I took a picture of the twelve novels that I had read for one of my classes (yes, I'm a dork). But isn't that great! Twelve novels. Maybe it's not so great, but I can choose to believe that it is. And by choosing to give myself lots of credit for it, I feel empowered.
Capitalism...football...and American Idol. In America, we strive to be the greatest. Competitiveness thrives, and there’s always someone who we need to be superior to in order to get ahead. Judging our own abilities against the talents of others can be good only if it serves as a catalyst for increased work ethic. But we often get disappointed when we compare ourselves to others, because we realize that there is always someone who is just a little smarter than us, or funnier, or more athletic, etc. So why compare ourselves? It amazes me to realize that we are all extraordinary individuals. Each one of us has a completely unique set of accomplishments that no one else has. And each one of us has an assembly of physical and internal characteristics that is completely self-exclusive. Not one organism on planet Earth shares the exact same genetic makeup with you (clones don’t count).
Walt Whitman knows what I'm talking about. In Leaves of Grass, his poem "I Celebrate Myself" elaborates beautifully on this idea. And Hawthorne lifted his brow in the nineteenth-century as he wondered why "it is very queer, but not the less true, that people are generally quite as vain, or even more so, of their deficiences, than of their available gifts" in The House of the Seven Gables. Our insecurities govern our thoughts and our actions so much that we forget what amazing creatures we truly are. You have given a piece of yourself to everything you have done and everywhere you have been, and so you are connected to all the goals that you have achieved. Any time you walk up the stairs (why does this kill me no matter how good of shape I'm in?), show someone affection, or read a new book, celebrate yourself! When a group of girls rode up an 1100 ft high mountain on bikes with me last week, I told them that we needed to be way more impressed with ourselves than we already were. We are beasts.
When we're not celebrating ourselves, we should be celebrating others. Or, as Dr. Heather Holleman points out in her Live with Flair blog entry(http://livewithflair.blogspot.com/2010/04/ask-this-question.html), "when you can't be in the spotlight, be the spotlight." Shine a light on someone else's beauty! By celebrating others we can destroy jealousy, battle insecurity, and conquer inferiority.
Mother's day is coming up. Moms, you should give yourselves an infinite number of pats on the back. Your endless supply of selfless devotion is absolutely astonishing. Those who haven't mothered a child should celebrate these domestic overseers for anything and everything they have done, and thank them with their utmost sincerity.
Life will be a party if we celebrate ourselves and others.
Let no tiny triumph escape your radar.
I am super awesome for writing this.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Nautical Discovery
"Taking action is being alive."
-Don Ruiz in The Four Agreements
How often do people say they want to do something and then never do it? I'm not sure I ever want to discover the repercussions of living in a world where everyone always did what they said they wanted to do (yikes!), but a little more follow-through of desirable activity could be supremely uplifting.
Yesterday, my friends and I did something we've been saying we've wanted to do for quite some time. On our bike path, there is a wide-ish river that extends pretty far into a nearby county, and every time we bike past it we say we should tube down it one day.
Oh, did we tube down it one day.
After I had nearly wiped out all of Walmart's tubing supplies, (you can find tubes there for $2!), we were river-bound. We parked our car along the river and eased into the water one-by-one, feeling very much like characters from a Mark Twain novel.
Our first ride down the river was brief but eventful. During this early excursion I discovered that it is possible to do a summersault in very shallow water without getting concussed (do not try this at home), and that rivers tend to steal people's sunglasses. We floated for a small distance past a "no trespassing" sign until we saw two very sour-looking fishermen who appeared to be trying to eject us from the water with their withering stares.
The real adventure ensued after we decided to march as far up the river as possible to see where it would end. We never reached the end. Fatigue and filth had consumed us; wearing a white bathing suit was a terrible idea. Trudging up the river, however, we became Tom Sawyers on a brave expedition. We overturned rocks to find critters, we took a break to skip rocks (I maxed out at two skips - so depressing), we practiced agility (rocks hurt), and we found a dirty wooden plank. While none of these events seem overly interesting, it was a wildly entertaining escapade that involved a lot of falling and treacherous navigating. Once our butts hit the tubes after battling upriver like a fierce school of salmon, we marinated in the sunlight and laughed the whole way back.
Humans are curious creatures. If we do not feed our curiosity periodically, our minds become stale. This is why adventures are therapeutic. Every so often, turn yourself into an explorer. It is not necessary to travel far in order to discover. You can discover so much in your immediate surroundings. You can investigate the details in something you've never analyzed before. Whatever you may choose to explore, you will inevitably find something new. How refreshing. Our minds and our bodies need to be woken up sometimes. Routines are fantastic, and there is plenty of beauty in tradition. But life is too short to let the brain go stale. Life is too short to say you can’t wait to do something and then never do it.
Take action to feel alive.
Investigate, Explore, and Discover.
-Don Ruiz in The Four Agreements
How often do people say they want to do something and then never do it? I'm not sure I ever want to discover the repercussions of living in a world where everyone always did what they said they wanted to do (yikes!), but a little more follow-through of desirable activity could be supremely uplifting.
Yesterday, my friends and I did something we've been saying we've wanted to do for quite some time. On our bike path, there is a wide-ish river that extends pretty far into a nearby county, and every time we bike past it we say we should tube down it one day.
Oh, did we tube down it one day.
After I had nearly wiped out all of Walmart's tubing supplies, (you can find tubes there for $2!), we were river-bound. We parked our car along the river and eased into the water one-by-one, feeling very much like characters from a Mark Twain novel.
Our first ride down the river was brief but eventful. During this early excursion I discovered that it is possible to do a summersault in very shallow water without getting concussed (do not try this at home), and that rivers tend to steal people's sunglasses. We floated for a small distance past a "no trespassing" sign until we saw two very sour-looking fishermen who appeared to be trying to eject us from the water with their withering stares.
The real adventure ensued after we decided to march as far up the river as possible to see where it would end. We never reached the end. Fatigue and filth had consumed us; wearing a white bathing suit was a terrible idea. Trudging up the river, however, we became Tom Sawyers on a brave expedition. We overturned rocks to find critters, we took a break to skip rocks (I maxed out at two skips - so depressing), we practiced agility (rocks hurt), and we found a dirty wooden plank. While none of these events seem overly interesting, it was a wildly entertaining escapade that involved a lot of falling and treacherous navigating. Once our butts hit the tubes after battling upriver like a fierce school of salmon, we marinated in the sunlight and laughed the whole way back.
Humans are curious creatures. If we do not feed our curiosity periodically, our minds become stale. This is why adventures are therapeutic. Every so often, turn yourself into an explorer. It is not necessary to travel far in order to discover. You can discover so much in your immediate surroundings. You can investigate the details in something you've never analyzed before. Whatever you may choose to explore, you will inevitably find something new. How refreshing. Our minds and our bodies need to be woken up sometimes. Routines are fantastic, and there is plenty of beauty in tradition. But life is too short to let the brain go stale. Life is too short to say you can’t wait to do something and then never do it.
Take action to feel alive.
Investigate, Explore, and Discover.
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