SLAM!

Friday, August 12th was easily one of the best nights of my life. It was the semi-finals for the National Slam Poetry contest and all of the events were within walking distance of my house. It was like a dream come true. 

Leading up to Friday, I had attended a workshop on workshopping, the youth slam contest and some open mic events. I also got denied access to one of the first bouts I attempted to go to after waiting in the rain for over an hour; apparently  lots of other people wanted to route on our local Lizard Lounge team. I learned my lesson: to get into the slam events - especially the popular ones - I was going to have to show up really early to get a spot. 

On Friday, August 12th, Jon met me over two hours early for a quick bite at a restaurant overlooking the semi-final venue. I wanted to keep an eye on the line so that I would not - no matter what - miss the show.  We found our place in line still a good hour and half early and, already, the line was pretty intense. The poets who were performing all week had priority; it looked iffy that we would make it in despite our clever planning. 

A little over an hour before the show, the host appeared and introduced himself to the crowd. He asked  the group: "Who is related to a poet? Who came to route on a specific team? Who has never been to a slam before and it just psyched to be here?" Jon and I raised our hands for the last one. I've seen slams on T.V. before, I've seen documentaries and youtube videos but this was going to be my first ever live slam ever and I was REALLY psyched. 

Slowly, the host started walking towards us. He started chatting with the people in front of us and then wiggled his way toward Jon and me. He asked us a little about ourselves and then he popped the most amazing question ever: "Will you be a judge tonight?" 

Oh my goodness. I leapt for joy. Not only would I get to definitely get a seat, but I'd get the best seat in the house AND...AND...I got to help determine national SLAM history. Whoever we chose as the winner would get to go the finals and have a chance of winning the 2011 contest. Wow! Wow! Wow!

The host asked four more teams to join us and then he walked us into the theatre as a group. We sat in the second row and were told the rules:

* After each performer, write a big number from one to ten on your white board. One is "Really?!! You wrote THAT???!" and ten is "Jesus just came down upon us!! Hallelujah." 

* Raise your board high and have it face the judges as soon as the performer is done. The MC will shout our your scores from lowest to highest.

* The audience will either route you on or booo you. It doesn't matter. Ignore the audience and do your thang. (The audience was also told later to ignore the judges and do your thang.)

At 8:00 pm, they finally opened the doors to the theater for the public and the house was packed. In fact, there were over 400 people who tried to get in and were denied because of space. And we were sitting in the second row. As judges. Unreal.

Four teams competed in four rounds. Each team sent up a single poet or a group piece and it was the rowdiest, most supportive ruckus event I've ever been to. There were gasps at the deep stuff, snaps when we got shivers, hollers when the poet got really intensely into it with sweat and tears. Man, the room was ALIVE. Each time a new poet came up, I felt like I went on a gigantic emotional journey with them. I felt exhausted and energized. It was so powerful watching these tattooed muscle men get up on stage and  pour their hearts out to the world. It was so inspiring to hear young gay men rant about Ken Dolls and G.I. Joe's.

As Jon and I walked home, the summer air was perfect. I was bouncing up and down and smiling from ear to ear. Holy moly, holy moly. What an incredible night! How did I get so lucky?

For more information on the SLAM, check out: National Slam Poetry Event 2011

Summer Crafts

As the summer comes to an end, it's fun to look at all of the crafty projects I took on between June and now. I had fun exploring different medium and adding some homemade goodness into our home. I think my next project will be a series of baby gifts. I have a lot of friends who have additions to their families arriving in the next couple of months. I'm excited to make their little ones "welcome to the world" gifts.

From top to bottom, here's what I made: a watercolor of our view from the cottage we rented in Maine, a bowl for Jon with our wedding invitation print on it, a felt owl, a paper daisy chain, meditation mala beads,  and a duvet cover. 

Tanglewood

As a finale to our week long adventure in the Berkshires, Jon and I decided to be culturally sophisticated and go to Tanglewood. We were easily the youngest couple there by a good thirty years. I tried really hard to be a worldly woman as I listened to the classical music, but all I could think about was Italian mobster movies. I blame it on the weather. 

Just as the first note was echoing through the beautiful concert hall, a brewing thunderstorm erupted.  There was this fascinating combination of delicate string sweetness and harsh bellowing booms. I was immediately transported in my mind to the movies. I imaged the perfect scene for that very moment. It would be in an Ocean's Eleven sort of high level modern crime in which two Mini Coopers are driving down an ancient stone staircases within in a pedestrian village somewhere in Italy. Automatic weapons would be sticking out of the car windows and few dramatic slow motion shots might even fire as the purity of the violins mixes with the evil bursts of thunderous doom. 

In my mind, it was one incredibly suspenseful and artistic scene. I am sure the directors would have used all sorts of black and white imagery to add to the good and evil battle.  I have no doubt the characters would have been developed perfectly so that the complexities made the audience unsure of who to root for in the final chase. 

When the concert was over, I was so excited to share my mental movie with Jon that I forgot all about trying to be a grown-up.  Although I am not the most proper or refined, I still think there's something magical about attending Tanglewood in a summer thunderstorm. 

Photo from: http://www.eticketspace.com

A "Gift"

It's hard to sum up an experience as intense and personal as my yoga teacher training course. It was three straight weeks of health and wellness boot camp: hours of daily yoga practice, meditation, chanting, Sanskrit, culture, nutrition and more. I transformed myself physically and emotionally and met incredibly brave, heart-warming people who I now call my dear friends. I know that I have barely begun to scratch the surface of processing all that I went through, but I keep returning to something that we talked about on our very first day.  It's the idea that each of us has a "gift." 

When we first met each other, our lead instructor, David, asked us to introduce ourselves and to be honest as we shared. "What gifts do you have?" he asked.  As we went around the sticky studio, each person spoke about the hardships, the life experiences that involved struggle, pain, hurt and fear. We all had them. Whether it was an eating disorder, a parent divorce, or anxiety, each and every one of us had something in our core that has been part of a destructive pattern. 

At first, it seemed truly sad to me that these beautiful people have had to experience so much negativity in their lives - myself in included. But now, looking back on it, I really understand that it takes unbelievable self power to figure out how to master your own history and turn it around. It is a magnificent thing to figure out how to pull yourself up, get out of your own way, and live the life you really want to life. 

I now understand the idea of a "gift" so much more. It's that positive outcome that arises after working so hard to tackle your own monsters. Coming out, into the light, after having been in a dark tunnel, means that you know the way into the sunshine and that you can help others look for their exit points too.  A hurdle becomes a "gift" when you take back control and put it in its place, off in corner of your life - somewhere far enough for freedom but close enough to act as a reminder of how much maintenance it takes to stay happy and healthy in the present.

My three week yoga training was what I needed to turn my hurtful history into a "gift."  I now feel proud, realizing how much compassion I have to offer others. It is a sincerity that cannot be taught, but only gained through a personal journey. I feel stronger than I have ever felt, knowing that I have a beautiful, organic gift to share with the world. It's no longer scary. My gift is so so pretty and I imagine it's handmade, crafty and has birds stamped on it somewhere. What a stunning, joyful "gift" it is.

Photo from: http://simplyhealthyfam.blogspot.com/

Yoga Lessons From My Dog

Although I have been doing sun salutations for ten years, something finally clicked about the yogi life when my dog, Stephen, recovered from having his leg amputated.  After discovering a tumor in his right hind leg, we had no choice but to remove the limb.  We were told that three year olds recover well, although it would be a tough journey ahead of us.

It was only hours after surgery, when Stephen taught me my first critical lesson about yoga. Without any rehabilitation, Stephen had figured out how to walk. I was ridiculously proud of him.  He didn’t over-think it and he showed me that we are far more resilient and adaptable than we think we are.

Over the next several months, Stephen grew stronger. Our walks increased and his fur grew back; his tail started to wag again with gusto. As Stephen was playing at the park one day, I realized that his amputation allowed him to shed something that was literally weighing him down. Since surgery, he’s figured out how to balance on his own feet and it really looks like he’s happier. It dawned on me that this is why I practice yoga. Every time I unroll my mat, I am giving myself a chance to remove my own constraints and acquire equilibrium.

Once I started looking, I realized that Stephen is a true yogi. He’s taught me how to take a break and be kind to myself. It’s hard work hopping around on three legs; when Stephen needs a rest, he lies down for a few deep breaths. I realized that, if he has given himself permission to take care of himself, why can’t I? It’s so easy to barrel through and ignore the signs of fatigue.  I finally got it: there’s no shame in taking child’s pose.

In order to sit up, Stephen has figured how to situate his left hind leg into half-pigeon. He uses his healthy leg to create stability so that he can sit comfortably making me understand how Modifications can be the key to success. In watching Stephen, it really sunk in for me that sometimes we can do more by altering what we think we have to do in order to do what really works for us.

Watching Stephen transform into a tripawd has shifted my own yoga practice into one that is more self-compassionate. I understand now how to give myself permission to accept where I am on my journey.  I also smile from ear to ear whenever “three-legged dog” is called in class.

Wild Turkey

Today, while I was taking Stephen Dog on his afternoon walk, I stumbled upon this fabulously bizarre scene. In someone's urban backyard was a wild turkey. It was sitting patiently at the outdoor dining table. I had to stop and stare for a little while, hardly believing the moment to be real.  I had known of a wild turkey in the neighborhood because local dogs have been going crazy in the park lately. I'd seen a turkey tail sticking out of the foliage not far from this site last weekend, so I knew it was genuine. I found this scene to be so funny that I actually made strangers stop and appreciate the humor of it with me.  My mind was bubbling with silly ideas about what would be main course at this turkey's feast and who else might arrive as its guests of honor. Beautifully ironic; got to love Mother Nature for throwing us fabulous moments like this to keep us on our toes.

True Story

Yesterday, Jon and I were gardening most of the morning. It was one of those days that makes us appreciate having our very own urban yard. And then it all changed. We had taken a break from putting our annuals in to go to grocery and, while we were unpacking the groceries, Jon noticed two kids messing with our fence - and his road bike was gone. Jon sprinted out the door and started chasing after the guys while I called the police. Within moments, the police were at our door and they were collecting our information. We all agreed it was unlikely we'd find the kid - or the bike - but we were pleased to see how responsive our local police are to calls. If nothing else, I figured, that was worth a bike's value to feel comforted by the response time for help. 

Throughout the afternoon, Jon mourned the loss of his bike, we told Stephen how sad we were that he didn't bark like the devil at the little jerks and we felt that our innocence was stripped from under us - no longer feeling safe in our own back yard.

As Jon was heading home from work today, the detectives called him to follow up about his bike (leaving me even more awed with their attention to detail) and, while Jon was on the phone with them he happened to notice his bike. And a kid. Strolling by without a fret in mind. What are the chances? Jon told the detectives and within seconds they pulled the kid over and gave Jon his bike back. 

I think there was some serious karma at work today.

Sunny Side Up

Last time I was in Patagonia, I happened to notice that they were selling some of their amazing fabric as $2 and $4 eco-friendly gift bags. I immediately bought a few of them and have used them to make lap top cases (add buttons and holes) and now this spring-inspired purse. The material is amazing; it's wind-proof, hearty, and flexible. I added a little sunshine and spice to bring the bag to life.  Plus, the cross-body purse is the perfect size for what I really want - a place for just the basics: wallet, phone and keys (maybe a few dog treats too). Never have I owned a Patagonia anything for less than five dollars! Score.

Release

Yoga assistant teacher training far exceeded my expectations. In the space that was created through practicing and learning with thirty incredible people, I reconnected with my own breath. It was deep, wholesome and calm.  I felt pure joy to be alive.

I let myself get out of my own way just a little bit these past two weekends and realized that yoga is about understanding the art of self-compassion. By practicing yoga, I am honoring the power of who I am - and who I can be.  Yoga is releasing myself from self-doubt and embracing how much I have to offer the world.

I started yoga back in college but I feel as though it has taken me ten hard years to truly arrive on my own mat.  My journey has finally begun and it feels great.

Spring

It is a time of new beginnings. Spring makes me feel like I'm molting into becoming the person I want to be. I walk with renewed energy. The sunshine warms me from within. I feel so happy.

Namaste

In writing an article for LIVESTRONG.COM about the meaning of the word "namaste," I was reminded of all the beautiful, multi-layered symbolism that lies within the yoga practice. I feel as though I have just scratched the surface; I clearly need to learn more. 

To read the article go to:

LIVESTRONG.COM

Write On!

I recently started writing again and it feels amazing. I have joined the freelance team at LIVESTRONG.COM, Lance Armstrong's healthy lifestyle website. My first article just surfaced on their site. It's about 10 foods that will help you burn fat. I found that, after writing the piece, I changed my grocery list a bit so that I'm listening to my own advice! 

I really missed tapping into my creativity. It feels good to be typing away again. 

Here's the link to the article: LIVESTRONG.COM 

Yoga Assistant Teacher Training - Day #2

After practicing yoga for ten years, I finally got beyond the physical and dove into the emotional today; I made the practice mine. I cried with relief, joy and the thought of vast possibilities. The idea that I will soon be able to heal and help others on their journeys makes me incredibly happy. What a gift to be able to give others. No doubt it will profoundly impact me as well.

Yoga Assistant Teacher Training - Day #1

Today I began my journey towards becoming a yoga assistant teacher. We started our day by asking one essential question: What do you have to offer?

My favorite quote of the day "get out of your own way." To be able to give fully, you have to trust yourself first.

I am humbled by this experience.

Community Garden

 I got the chance to help my sixth graders start a community garden today at school. The sun was shining, the kids were enthused, and I taught some girls how to use power tools.  Every bit of it made me smile. 

Hello, Kitty.

All I wanted for my 31st birthday was a Hello Kitty sewing machine. When I got it, the minty green color made me want to make something. Anything. But I had no idea what to do. After watching every “learn to sew” youtube video out there and scouring the bare-bones manual, I finally made my first stitch and, boy, was it powerful! I was ready to conquer the world. I am woman. I am technically savvy. I can make...a pillow case?

At the time, the only live resource around was this depressing basement fabric store two towns away. They had a lot of Cat and The Hat prints that didn’t exactly scream urban sophisticate. It was hard, but I still managed to find an Orla Kiely-looking pear print that did the trick for my first domestic sewing project. Oh, what a pillow case it was.

Fast forward six months and I have now spent the near entirety of my last paycheck at this hip stitch club that just opened up in town called Gather Here (http://www.gatherhereonline.com/). I now know how to make a messenger bag, a duvet cover and a simple skirt. I have gone a little nutso, perhaps, adding my colorful flair to whatever I can get my hands on around our house. Talk about girl power. Making your own decor, clothing and accessories really is the art of modern womanhood. 

I had a few days off and together, with sweet Kitty, I have given two rooms in the house make-overs. Talk about gratification and instant reward! Watch out world: she’s got Hello Kitty at her mercy and she’s not afraid to use it.

Bar Harbor

Last weekend, we were up in Bar Harbor, Maine, and I took this photo of our friends’ three year old daughter. She was chasing our dog, Stephen, as he romped with a new friend named Zeus.  That blonde lab could cram two balls and three sticks into his mouth at the same time. It was incredible. 

To me: this photo is what childhood is about. What’s better than growing up, getting dirty outside, pouncing with dogs, and collecting sticks? Kids don’t needs fancy toys and televisions; they need family time, fresh air and real adventures. 


I want to insert the photo of my future child into this very shot. This moment, to me, represents all of the right ingredients of life. I am convinced that a sunny day and a handful of sticks is better for your heart and head than anything money can buy.

Stephen The Dog: Life On Three Legs

This past week, Stephen and I were hiking off-leash around Fresh Pond, an urban oasis for dogs in Cambridge. He was hopping along, as he does on his three legs, and I was enjoying the fresh spring rays that were streaming through the trees. There was this great moment, when Stephen was waiting for me as I rounded the bend, and I thought: three legs or not, this guy is the dog of my childhood dreams; we are one sweet team together. 


And then he took off. Ran like a greyhound, focused and unbelievably efficient for missing a hind leg. At first I was proud of his grace and power - and then I panicked. He was heading straight towards a small pond and his eyes were locked on two feathered and squawking prizes.  It had only been a year since cancer had taken his limb. Could he even swim? We bought him that life jacket, just in case, but I didn’t really know his liquid limitations after the amputation.  Would Stephen drown? 

I raced after Stephen, imagining how uncomfortable the the long walk back to the car would be after I throw myself into the pond to rescue dear old pup. When I arrived at the pond, however, I found Stephen dog-paddling, snorting, panting, and still going strong, salivating for a taste of urban duckling.  

It was hard to be mad at him for running off, as he pulled himself up upon the rocks, and wiggled his wet-dog shake. What a guy, I thought. I guess he can swim with three legs after all. 


Even though Stephen lost his off-leash freedom for the rest of the journey home, I was darn proud of him for getting back on that figurative bicycle and bounding his way into the pond without reservation. I smiled to myself as I added this moment to the list of life lessons taught to me by my three-legged furry companion; sometimes, it seems, it's best not to over-think things; just dive on in.