LOVE THURSDAY

Chad said that I had to visit the Brooklyn Superhero Supply Co. while I was in New York. Well, of course I had to visit the Brooklyn Superhero Supply Co. Duh. Here's why everyone should visit this place. The Brooklyn Superhero Supply Co. is a front for 826NYC, a nonprofit organization dedicated to supporting students with their creative writing skills. All the proceeds from the shop goes to support free writing and tutoring programs offered by 826NYC.

When you make a purchase at the store, they make a big deal of it. The item of purchase goes into a special chamber and a guy at a control booth makes you say the superhero oath to complete the transaction. The oath requires you to say your name and your superhero name. I decided that I needed to buy some deflector bracelets. Deflector bracelets can easily be camouflaged as accessories. The problem came when it was time to say the oath. I got to my superhero name and froze. I. Could. Not. Think. Of. A. Name. At one point, I turned to Talaura and said that I wasn't even sure I had a superpower. This is wrong, of course. We all have superpowers. Apparently impromptuness (totally not a word) is my Kryptonite. Not only did I not have a superhero name, I could no longer remember having at least one superpower (it's pie crust, My superpower is making awesome pie crust). You want to hear what I finally came up with? I don't really want to say because it's so terrible, it's embarrassing. I came up with Super Authenticity Girl. I know. Completely lame. Look, I have no defense other then when put on the spot, my brain gets erased.

The truth is, I'm still trying to figure out my superhero name and my superpower. It changes on a daily basis. But I think this is true for all of us. Every day we find out we have a new kryptonite, but we also discover new superpowers and ways of dealing with that kryptonite. I'm sure, on the spot, I could tell you my friends' and family's superpowers. It's easier to see the superpowers in the ones we love.

Happy Love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

"Sometimes something can look beautiful just because it's different in some way from the other things around it. One red petunia in a window box will look very beautiful if all the rest of them are white, and vice-versa.”-Andy Warhol

I have this set of photos on FLickr called Walkabout. It's where I've been putting pictures of things that cross my path that I find interesting, but don't really fit any theme. Some times the Walkabout pictures are for the sole purpose of getting out my camera and really looking at my surroundings. Many of my New York pictures ended up (or will...still going through them) in this set. My last day in New York, Talaura and I spent the morning walking around Brooklyn Heights Promenade and the DUMBO area. At one point during my walk I had to tell Talaura to hold up so I could take a picture of something and then I apologized for the delay. She told me that it was OK and that she never knew what I'd want to photograph. My reply is that I never know either.

The Walkabout pictures are a practice in seeing things in a different way. Critics of Andy Warhol may scoff at his Soup Cans painting. Why would any one want to create a painting of Campbell's soup? Warhol's paintings were meant to be a symbol of commercialism, but I also think it makes you see the cans differently. It's no longer just about a can of soup, but about what makes that can of soup appealing. The eye is pulled first to the red of the label and crispness of the letters. And then maybe you begin to notice the texture of the can, the difference between the metal part and the label. This is the same thing that happens in the Walkabout pictures. It may just be an everything common item, but now the focus is pulled to something different about that object. I keep thinking that the more I practice this, the more likely I am to apply it to everything, people and situations. Because when you're able to find the difference, you're able to see the beauty.

Happy Love Thursday.

LOVE THURSDAY

I was born on the cusp of Capricorn and Aquarius. I don't know if this has anything to do with my love of water. I have always been a water baby. I did sit next to a woman on the plane to NY who was studying astrology. She said I was really in tune and that I "get it". I have no idea what she was talking about, but I'm sure the Aquarius side of me is what pulls me to the ocean. Most people don't associate New York with sandy beaches and ocean views, but just a short train ride followed by a trip on a ferry, you can easily find yourself here.

This is Fire Island. Talaura has friends who have a house in Cherry Grove (one of the most LGBT friendly summer retreats). They let us store our stuff there while we toured the island because they are wonderful and fabulous. But the first thing we did when we got off the ferry was head straight to the beach, dump our things down and jumped right on into the Atlantic.

The Atlantic is cold. It's so cold, I witnessed two very well endowed naked men jump into the water and come out women. I dunked my body in enough to say that I'd been in the ocean and then Talaura and I had a picnic on the beach. This was my favorite day. Seriously. I could spend hours walking along the edge of the water picking up shells and rocks, digging my toes into the wet sand. I never got tired of watching baby clams scurry back to safety after being washed up by the waves. Over and over, a wave would come in and uncover their tiny shells only for them to have to dig themselves back down into the sand.

This was the day my feet finally forgave me. And it was bliss. Happy Love Thursday.

LOVE THURSDAY AND I'M CHEATING

I don't really have an aversion to maps. I'm very good at reading them (Dad taught me well). It's just that sometimes, I don't want to bother. So many of my cool little discoveries in this town has been because I let myself get lost. Now it's probably not the safest thing to do in a big city like New York, but you're never far from a kind soul who will help you out. Every day that I left Talaura at her job and would venture out on my own, I always had pretty good idea of where I was going. For my second morning in New York, I casually strolled through Central Park to get to the Met and discovered the good places to get lost in New York.

I remember walking past the Met on my way to the Guggenheim on my last visit. I had thought briefly at the time about just hoping in for an hour or so, but became so over whelmed by the size of that museum that I cut my losses. I told myself "next time". The Met is ginormous.

But it's also the perfect place to get lost in because around every corner is a new surprise. I floated in right past the ticket line (online tickets, I can not stress this enough people) and right on up to the second floor. I don't know why I started at the top and worked my way down. I just did. I saw something on a wall about "photography" and I started there. I came out of the photography exhibit into this big hallway with rooms tucked in here and there and the first room I walked into was the Monet room. I was in the French Impressionist Section! My favorite of favorites! Monet, Van Gogh, Pissaro, Renior, Oh...the Renior's. When I came to the Degas and his little ballerina statue, I nearly came undone with want. I just wanted to touch her skirt. And this is how I spent my morning, by getting completely lost in the Met. I spent forever in a room for Asian Arts that contained a giant Buddha wall tapestry. I just sat there on bench, in the sunlight that streamed down from a skylight. It was so beautiful.

By the time I accidentally found myself at the Temple of Dendur the museum was crowded and I was starving. So, I left the museum for the park and had myself a picnic and a nap on the soft grass in the shade. I listened to the sounds of children playing in the sprinklers and watched as people rode by on bicycles or strolled by maybe walking their dog.

I stayed in the park for most of that afternoon before strolling down 5th Ave to meet Talaura. Looking at this day now, makes me think I didn't do all that much. There was a bit of shopping along 5th Ave. I finally purchased something from Tiffany's, a new chain to hold my rings. But really day two was all about being lost.

I recommend getting lost every once in a while. Happy Love Thursday.

LOVE THURSDAY

I take back country roads when I travel to my parents' home in Collinsville. Most people traveling between Kansas City and the Tulsa area would take Hwy 71 to Interstate 44, passing through Carthage and Joplin. Not me. I take U.S. Hwy 69 to Fort Scott. At Fort Scott I jot over to KS Hwy 7 and follow this to US 400. Then it's 400 to Highway 169, which I stay on all the way to Collinsville. Sure 71 to 44 has less zig and zag and 44 is a turnpike, but even though I add time to my drive, I also shave off 100 miles. Also, I'm traveling with the dog and we need easy stopping places. That doesn't exist on the 71 to 44 route. From Kansas City to Fort Scott Hwy 69 is a four lane 75 mile per hour highway, but Hwy 7 is a pure back country two lane road. It winds through Kansas farmland and passes through town squares and main streets. And though the highways get a little wider once you reach 400 and 169, they still pass through farmland and towns. It's scenic. I always see deer. This time around I saw doe and her brand new baby. He was so tiny and cute. In May, I passed fields and fields of golden wheat swaying back and forth in the breeze. I had intended to stop and take pictures, but I never did. The wheat had been harvested by the time I made this last trip down. The tall golden fields of wheat had been reduced to short needles of gold with wavy tire marks running through. Now it's corn time. Tall stalks of corn sway in the breeze. They seem to go on forever.

This time I stopped. I forced myself to stop. There were so many reasons not to. I was tired. I just wanted to get home. It was already that time a day where the sun was at it's worse for photography. I'd have to leave the dog in the car and it was hot. But I stopped. I walked right up to the corn field and could here the creepy rustle of their leaves in the wind and buzz of summer bugs in the heat. I may not have gotten the exact shot I was going for, but that's not the important part. Stopping for the intention was the important thing.

It made me feel brave.

Happy Love Thursday.

LOVE THURSDAY

You know that moment between the lights dimming and the curtain raising on a big staged production? That moment when there's a sudden hush and stillness in the audience? I feel like I am in that moment. On the outside I am quiet and still. I am waiting eagerly for the curtain to go up and the show to begin. Waiting. Waiting. On the inside, I am loud. Sections of my brain are all talking and all at once. One side is doing math and budgeting and if I only pay this then I can do that. One side is picturing my carry-on bag and all the things that need to fit into it. One tiny section is wondering if I have eight days worth of underwear and if it's possible to do laundry while I'm visiting Talaura (Talaura, we may need to do laundry while I'm there). One bit of brain has been devoted to an impromptu weekend trip home and all that's involved with traveling with the dog. Then there's that section of my brain devoted to work and it's been working over time lately. All the chatter makes it hard for me to pull out a complete thought or sentence. It's at times like this when my normal routine becomes my security blanket. And even though I've been physically and mentally drained at the end of the work day, I have stuck with my routine of getting on my yoga mat followed by mindfully making dinner and weekly chore night. This may not calm the chatter, but it keeps me on track and it helps me to keep the chatter from growing. Falling behind on the routine would just take another section of brain away to worry about the things I am not doing. Worry about the things I am not doing. That part is my favorite. I am constantly worrying about things I don't do.

Tuesday, during my yoga practice, I was preparing for savasana and doing alternate nostril breathing (10 rounds) when I decided to add on some Om chants. I did 24 rounds of Om, physically saying the word aloud and feeling the vibration of the mmmmm. And it was weird at first to hear my voice out loud in my quiet little house. I always start my meditation practice with 24 rounds of mantra, but I always just say it in my head. There's something that makes me self conscious about speaking out loud in an empty space. This doesn't make sense because I will walk from the bathroom to the kitchen to start the rice cooker with nothing on but a towel wrapped around my wet head. Apparently I draw crazy boundary lines. But Om is something that must be said out loud. You must feel the sound waves as they vibrate through the face and through the body. And this is when I began to realize the power of Om. The more I said, the less self conscious I became. With each Om, a section of my brain would be come quiet, until finally the only sound in my head was my own hum.

So today for Love Thursday, I give you the power of Om. Ommmmm. Auummmmmm.

LOVE THURSDAY

“I would like to become tolerant without overlooking anything, persecute no one even when all people persecute me; become better without noticing it; become sadder, but enjoy living; become more serene, be happy in others; belong to no one, grow in everyone; love the best, comfort the worst; not even hate myself anymore.”-Elias Canetti This week I've been plagued by the symptoms of being a woman. This is not something I usually complain or talk about because it's never been that bad for me. But this week has been specifically unpleasant and the worse symptom of all is this completely exhausted feeling. Last week I wasn't sleeping because, well, I wasn't sleeping. This week I'm sleeping like a hibernating bear. My bones are made of lead and the tissue that encases them consists of bags of tar. The air and everything around me is made of mud and trudging through it all is exhausting and I just want to lie down after typing those last two sentences. This week I feel I am a walking cliche, a Cathy from the comic strip and I don't like it one bit. And I think this is why I've been quiet this week. I'm afraid that every thing I type here or there will just come out sounding like a criticism or a complaint. So I haven't said anything. I didn't even advertise my last blog entry.

I was even pretty sure I'd have nothing to share for Love Thursday. Then, the other night, I sat in the backyard with Hooper. The sun hadn't set completely. It wasn't light, but it wasn't dark. I had taken my camera with me because I hadn't picked it up and actually used it in some time. I sat in the lawn chair for a bit, not moving, barely breathing, but watching. And then the fireflies started to rise up out of the ground. One by one. Tiny lights flickering on and off. Then I heard a squeak and looked up just in time to see a couple of bats flit by. A soft breeze moved through the air rustling the leaves. I looked over where I'd mowed over the old garden. I could see that the chard was coming back even though I thought I'd pulled it all up and mowed over what I hadn't. Resilient.

Like me.

Happy Love Thursday.

LOVE THURSDAY

I saw these cherries at the Farmer's Market on Saturday and even though I'm not a big fan of them, I couldn't resist buying them. They were so shiny and pretty and I could get rid of them in one swoop by putting them in a pie. And that's what I did. Sunday afternoon, I started a really boring Willem Dafoe (oxymoron) and sat down to pit the cherries for the pie. I don't have one of those fancy tools for pitting cherries. I don't see the point of getting one just to use once every two years or so. I just used a pairing knife. Messy. A little time consuming. But not difficult. I would slice down the seam of the cherry, pull it apart and pluck out the seed. It was a very meditative action, like knitting or prayer beads. This continued as I made the dough for the pie crust, first mixing together the flour and butter with a pastry cutter and then latter with my hands as I added the water. Not too much water, just enough to make it all stick together.  The whole process became a meditation.

This seemed fitting since I've actually gotten back into the practice of daily meditation. Sort of. I've gotten up half an hour earlier every morning this week, so I'd have 20 minutes of practice before breakfast. Our move wrecked my original meditation practice. I never really got back on track. It would happen in spurts, but it was never consistent. This week I've been consistent enough to think about buying a new meditation journal. I will admit that Wednesday morning was particularly challenging. I had worked hard on my yoga mat the day before and then pulled weeds all around the front of my house. By the time I went to bed Tuesday night, my right side was achy. Then I tossed and turned, stretching and moving my hip this way and that, before giving up and taking something for my pain. So 5:30 AM Wednesday morning was not easy and settling into my practice was not easy. My chitta vritti had already started and was working out the best way to paint and decorate the bedroom.  But I sat there until my timer chimed because I  know this is a practice and sometimes that practice is listening to the mind chatter instead of trying to shoo it away.

And I'm also aware that this practice takes many shapes and forms. Happy Love Thursday.

LOVE THURSDAY

The day started out a bit tense. There was a tension in the air swirling around us all partly due to the pressure of making it a perfect day and the heat. I had forgotten about the heat. I've gotten used just taking a sweater with me every where I go up here. Down there? You can't take off enough clothes. Sticky, cranky, adding words adds a little bit more heat into the air. So this caused a lack of communication when communication was really needed. But then we found relief in a cool home and Audra sat down for Misti to do her hair for the wedding. And I settled in to watch.

As Misti worked her magic, you could see the tension flaking away like onion layers. For a moment, I stepped outside of the picture and just watched. I saw two girls reenacting a scene they've done hundreds of times together. Getting ready for that first dance, that special date, HS graduation. Two best friends. Just like that, cranky turned to laughter.

I noticed, as I uploaded pictures, that Misti is out of focus in every one of them. The thing you see the most is the look of concentration on her face as she focuses on her best friend. Audra stays in focus through all the pictures. But this last one is my favorite one of that day. Audra in focus, her pure beauty shining through. Misti hovering in the background, a blurry ball of sunshine, smiles and love. All as it should be.

It really turned out to be a beautiful day. I admit that I had my worries, but at the end of the evening Audra hugged me tight and told me that I showed her what it was supposed to be like and now she has that and it's all she ever wanted. We cried for so many reasons then. Joy and loss all mixed together. But mostly joy.

Happy Love Thursday.

LOVE THURSDAY

They say you have to try a new food at least five times before you can truly decide if you like it or not. Maybe not five, but at least more then once. I think places are the same way. I think of the number of times I'd been in the Kansas City area. It was always for a concert and I never stayed too long or long enough to really see anything. It was never even a pin in our "where we want to live someday" map. Something about the word "Kansas" made my body clench and it's true that the Kansas side of the city can have this effect on me. But then I got to know this town. I gave it a chance. Now when I look around, I see tiny bits of other places I love. New York City. Portland. They're both here.

Part of the practice of taking my camera every where I go, is not to improve my photography skills (that's just play). I do it as a reminder to look up and notice and see the crazy world I live in. This practice has taught me to see and find things in unexpected places. Even though every museum we wanted to go to was closed on Mondays, I knew I could find enough eye candy to fill our day. In a way this made things even better. It allowed the Jens to see the city without being tourists. It gave me the opportunity to show them a few pockets of cool. Not all of them, but enough of them. The last time Jen T was in KC, her dreams and hopes were smashed to smithereens. This trip erased all of that for her. I love that she was able to come here and find herself again and that I could be the one to show them around this fantastic city of mine.

Happy Love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

Ten things I love this week:

1. The weather. All week it's been blue skies. 2. This picture I took at the City Market on Saturday.


3. Riding my scooter. 4. The look on my dogs face after getting a bath. I couldn't get a picture, but it looked something like this.



5. Noticing that I still turn heads when I'm riding the scooter. 6. My yoga mat. 7. These granola bars I made. Damn! They're good and I can't give you the recipe because it's basically adapted from another recipe and I made it up as I went along. 8. Getting to see and spend a tiny bit of time with the Jens. 9. Sunflowers in the vase on my kitchen table.



10. You.

LOVE THURSDAY

The other evening, I was in the backyard with Hooper. He was at the back fence, his tail wagging like a windshield wiper on high speed. All of a sudden there was a commotion and I saw a flutter of wings and Hooper's teeth. Before I could figure out what was going on, I yelled at Hooper to drop it and his head immediately turned back into the shrubbery on the fence and a baby robin hopped out into the yard. Hooper's eyesight isn't so good any more, so he didn't see the bird get away. He was too focused on the spot where the bird used to be. To be honest, I had no idea where the post was headed until I typed that very last sentence. I thought it might be something about how much I love my dog, like those times he shakes his head and all his hair poofs out around his head like a lion. But then I read that last part about being focused on the spot where the bird used to be. How often does this happen? My mind wanders back to moments and images a lot these days. I hate that the last time I saw Chris, he was unrecognizable to me. Sometimes my brain puts that face in my head and I have to mentally erase it. I have to focus on the way Chris used to be before he got sick. Usually I'd turn that sentence into something about looking ahead, but for some reason today, I don't think it's a bad idea to focus on something the way it used to be. At least not in this case.

Because, did you notice what happened when Hooper turned his focus back to the fence? That little baby bird got away.

Happy Love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

This time last year, my mom, sister, niece, Chris and I were sitting on a bench eating gelato at the City Market when this man and his son walked by carrying the most beautiful hanging baskets I'd ever seen. Mom and I both paused mid gelato bite to stare and point with our spoons. I stopped him and asked him where he'd gotten them. The man's age was hard to tell. He was fit and good looking in a daytime soap kind of way. He said he'd purchased the last two at the booth and they were for his 98 yr-old mom. We thanked him and they went on there way, but that's when I should have staked him in the heart for that plant because obviously this was a family of vampires. There's no way that guy had 98 yr-old mother. That and the guy didn't just take the last two of that day. He took the last two of that YEAR. I know because I went back every weekend for three months looking for that plant and they never had it. A few weeks ago I was back at the City Market, this time with my brother and sister-in-law and there was my plant. I bought it immediately. Isn't it lovely? It's called a Chenille plant, at least that's the technical term. I like to call it my Cheeto plant. I feel this is a more appropriate name. And it's just gotten more lovely each day.

LOVE THURSDAY

The other day I stopped into the nearest grocery store to get some cheese and bread. I paused in front of the dairy case before heading over to bread isle thinking I might pick up a bottle of banana milk and there it was: blue milk. I read the top and it said "cotton candy flavored". As I stood there contemplating, I heard Chris in the back of my brain say "get it". Except it came out more like "gitit" because that's an inside joke we had. First of all I knew Chris would want that blue milk because of Star Wars. Bantha milk is blue (I looked it up). But I also knew he'd want me to get because he knew how much I loved cotton candy. If we went to any kind of event that was selling cotton candy, Chris would immediately ask me if I wanted any. And when I'd demurely squeak out a mousy "no", he'd buy me a bag because he knew when my "no" meant "yes". So I bought the milk. That was the first step, because with that milk the dark cloud started to lift just a little bit. Sunshine began to poke through holes in the cloud. And that milk tasted like rainbows and marshmallows. I need permission to buy things. I will see something that I like or want, but will not buy it. Chris always took care of that. He gave me permission to nice things for myself, to buy something that I didn't necessarily need, but wanted. I'm learning to do that for myself in tiny steps. It makes it easier when I know Chris is in the back of my brain or looking over my shoulder.

What's something nice you've bought for yourself this week?

LOVE THURSDAY

You know those mornings that mimic the lyrics in Manic Monday. It doesn't even have to be a Monday. It starts with the sound of that awful alarm. You get up to find the creepiest looking silverfish like bug in your shower. Once that's dealt with, which involves lots of screaming, the actual act of showering seems to take you forever. Out of the shower, you gaze at your reflection in the mirror and wonder if it's even worth the effort to dry your hair. But some how you muster the energy to not only dry your hair, but put on mascara. Go you! Next thing is breakfast and peanut butter toast day for the dog and as you feed the dog his last bite of toast, you realize the time. It's time for you to rush. Rush to put your lunch together. Rush the dog outside. Rush to gather your things for the day. Rush out the door. Then as you're rushing to put everything in the car, you glance up and there in the sky is a perfect rainbow. This is your cue to stop. To take a breath. To take notice. To stop the rush. And so I did. I took a breath, pulled out my camera and took a picture. It's not the best picture, but it was a picture. It was an action that reminded me that I needed to do this more often.

Happy Love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

Saturday night I filled a bunch of plastic eggs with Sour Patch Kids, Hershey Miniatures and Lotto Scratchers and then Sunday evening I went over to Terry's (the one doing the AIDS Walk) where we hid eggs in the park across the street from his house. Then we let the group loose to find them. I loved it. Even if they didn't really enjoy it, they did a good job of looking like they had fun hunting those eggs. Once all the eggs were found (we think), we all gathered around the picnic table and opened eggs and scratched off scratchers.

Out of all the scratchers, Xander's was the only one that won any money. He then tried to give it back to me. We argued back and forth over this before finally agreeing to give it the AIDS Walk. I was all set to do that until Karen posted about Camp Hope. Since the money was won doing a child like activity, I felt this was a more appropriate charity. We then made our way back to Terry's house to eat eggs and cheesecake and drink and roast Peeps on the fire.

I think I've started a new tradition. Happy love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

The reasons behind doing a 365 photo challenge for me have varied in the the years I've done them. The first year was about self esteem and learning that I am not a hideous monster. The second year was all about learning to use my camera. The third year was about being aware of the new space I was in. I didn't finish year three for obvious reasons, but I did learn something with the 280something pictures I took. The photo challenge made me take my camera with me every where. And use it. Even though I'm not doing a 365 day project (and probably won't for a very long time), I still carry my camera with me every where I go. What I've noticed lately though is that I don't take the time to use it. I'll see something and think "I should take a picture of that", but then I won't stop and actually do it. Part of me feels like I've done enough by just noticing that something needs to be photographed. It's not like I have any aspirations of being a photographer. I just want to take pictures, hopefully pretty ones. And every once in a while I take a picture that I, myself, can't stop looking at because I think it's beautiful. A picture that I look at and think "Wow! I took an awesome photo!". Because that's a really hard thing to do. Not take the picture, but give yourself permission to not look at your own creation with out such a critical eye.

It's a practice and one I need to get in the habit of doing more often, and one I encourage for you to do too. Just maybe, if we can look at our own creations with out tearing it down, we can look at ourselves in that way. And maybe even each other. Happy Love Thursday.

LOVE THURSDAY

I've had to let go of the idea that I needed to do my yoga practice in the morning and accept the idea of doing my practice when I get home. You would think that this is a no brainer, yoga at 6AM vs yoga at 5PMish, but I am a creature of habit and routine. The reason yoga had to happen in the mornings is because after work, once at home, I'd just want to be lazy with Chris or fix dinner or both. I couldn't take an hour of home time and waste it on yoga. But mornings were my time. Every one else in the house would still be asleep. Mornings, I didn't feel the need to take care of any one but me. I don't know how many times I've heard and spoken the phrase "attachment causes suffering". In this case it's not my attachment to routine that's been causing all the suffering. My suffering attachment wasn't necessarily due to a change in routine. No, what I needed to learn to get used to was that all time is mine. And the attachment to the idea that all time is not mine has been the hardest to let go of. It's hard getting used to knowing that the person I'm responsible for is me and the dog. So when the 5 AM alarm went off and I just couldn't get out of bed, I started telling myself that I could just do my practice when I get home in the evening. But then I'd feel really guilty for not getting up and doing my practice. I would set myself up as a failure right then with that 5 AM alarm.

So far this week, I have made a connection with my yoga mat every day this week. I have survived two 20 min savasanas without falling asleep or melting into tears and all of this has happened in the evening. It's hard. My first instinct when I walk through that front door after work is not to kick off my shoes and jump onto my mat. Actually, I do want to kick off my shoes, but would rather lay down on my bed. But I've learned a trick. I don't make my practice the first thing that I have to do when I get home. I take my time. Check the mail. Change my clothes. And then I get the mat out. Sort of like easing into a pool. I will admit that Tuesday that voice in the back of my head was doing a really good job at telling me how tired I was and how I should go on and start dinner. But I sighed heavily and unrolled my mat, releasing that voice to go bug someone else.

Last night, as I got ready to head to yoga class, storm clouds started brewing. I worried because I was on the scooter and thought maybe I should just head home. But I didn't. I went to class and found so much joy in my practice. I'd look out every once in a while and see some angry looking clouds passing by, but that's all they did, just pass on by while I stayed safe and sound on my mat.

Happy Love Thursday.

LOVE THURSDAY

My favorite French impressionist is Claude Monet. I think I even mentioned that in the post I did about the water lilies. I believed I talked about how his paintings were always the type that made you want to step inside. A place you'd want to be. There are times when I can remember being in a place that felt like I was inside a Monet. I remember them like snapshots or framed pieces only with out the people with umbrellas. I remember taking a trip to New Orleans with Chris and Todd a long time ago. One day of the trip we went outside of the city to Covington. There's some famous author buried in an abbey out there. I forget who, someone Todd admired. The day was drizzely and all the green was intensified by the rain and wet. I remember being fascinated by the moss hanging from the trees. It was such a southern cliche, but so beautiful. The abbey was quiet except for the chapel. They were doing repair work on the organ that day and there would be occasional bursts of music, but you could only hear it if you were sitting in the chapel. We spent most of our time there wandering the cemetery. After we found the headstone of the author, we went to the Abita Brewery and sampled beers. It was my favorite day of that trip. When I think back on that day it all seems so slow and green and calm. A Monet.

This could be why this has always been my favorite time of the year. Spring rains mixed with the burst colors from the redbuds, pears and tulips. Everything seems so much. The purples too purple. The greens too green. Too fresh and bright to be true. They can't possibly be real and therefore they must be a Monet.

Happy Love Thursday.

LOVE THURSDAY

I know I should worry about Global Warming and the early Spring is a direct result of the damage we've done to our planet. But I'm so much like a plant. I thrive in warm sunny weather. I love it. I love going without socks and coats and heavy long sleeves and sweaters. I love seeing all the plants explode into colors. But most importantly, this weather is perfect scooter weather. Monday night I dug out the bicycle pump and struggled with my scooter tires, but I got them aired up. Yes. The back tire is bald, but I've made arrangements for a new one. In the meantime, I feel like it can handle the eight mile round trip commute to work. Something else I discovered? You can't cry on a scooter. It's impossible. The eyes may well up, but they never spill over and they dry up really fast. Then, when you don't think it's possible, you become even lighter. Happy even. I would say you become filled with joy. It's kind of magic.

Happy Love Thursday.