Much to my heart’s sweet content, the boys joined me for yoga rocks the park yesterday. This is a first for them despite the many years that YRTP has been a thing here in Omaha in the summertime. It’s not that I’ve not wanted them to join me every year. Nor is it that I haven’t asked them to go with me each year. It’s that I’d never requested them to go as I did yesterday. I was needing to get outside, to move my body, to feel community and to spend time with my men, and instead of asking, “does anyone want to join me for yoga this afternoon?” I stated, “we’re going to yoga this afternoon”. Continue reading a crack in perspective
Happy birthday middle child! Oh, how I wish April 20th could come before April 17th every once in awhile. What would it be like for you to just once experience a birthday before your older brother? You may ask what would it be like to experience anything before your older brother. But Ted, you know that feeling deep in your bones: the daredevil bike riding, skateboarding and rock climbing, and being on stage too. I’m sure you also ask yourself what it would be like to have all the experiences last in our family as well, to have parents whose laps aren’t filled with a baby brother. But Ted, because your father and I are frenzied to do it right with the first and we vacillate between being sentimental and nostalgic (or too tired to care) with the last, I think you may have the best spot. Continue reading birthday note to my middle
My reading circle met today for the fourth Tuesday in a row to discuss Brené Brown’s newest book, Rising Strong. Wowsahs! The chapters we discussed this week covered some seriously heavy themes: Continue reading the generosity hypothesis
I don’t normally leave the house before 8:00 a.m. I don’t normally attend breakfast gatherings. I don’t normally plan a coffee meeting after a breakfast gathering. I don’t normally teach a yoga private on the same day as two other engagements and an evening of kids’ activities. But Monday (despite knowing my mental limit) I did just that, and to assuage myself I decided to sandwich the busyness of the day with a noontime yoga class lead by my favorite teacher. Continue reading dharma lesson of the day
I had dinner with a friend last night, one that I rarely get to see, but who goes way back. She shared that recently she’d wanted to pull out every hair on her head (one by one), make a nest out of them, crawl into said nest and die. This was the way she felt after losing her shit on her kids. She described her violent spewing of f-bombs and desire to murder after witnessing one of her children repeatedly hit the other with a gaming controller. She painted the picture so very clearly. I was grateful for and felt reassured by her honesty and vulnerability. Witnessing child against child violence and responding with violence and rage is all too familiar for me. It is one of my biggest nemeses. It is the very thing that brought me to a mindfulness practice, and when I slip up, it is the very thing that makes me believe momentarily that I should quit, because can a person really teach while in the throes of learning? Continue reading no masks friendship
I retired from teaching college Spanish in May, and since then I really haven’t thought too much about any one particular class. Until recently.
In one of my first years teaching, the textbook we were using had a culture segment about the impacts of globalization in Latin America. Taking advice from a colleague, I showed the documentary Señorita Extraviada, which investigated the incredible number of disappearing women in Juarez, Mexico where an outcropping of maquiladoras (foreign factories) had sprung up after the signing of NAFTA. The movie packed a punch. I watched it with the class in complete disbelief. I couldn’t believe that so many women were disappearing, some found after having been brutally raped and cut into pieces, and others never found. I couldn’t believe the foreign companies didn’t investigate when their workers went missing en route to and from their factory jobs. I couldn’t believe the indifference of the Mexican police. I couldn’t believe the disinterest (ignorance?) of the U.S. I couldn’t believe how powerless the Mexican families were in seeking answers about their missing mothers, daughters and sisters. Continue reading Classroom flashbacks: we are all the same
I was supposed to be landing in Phoenix right about now on my way home from Oakland, CA, where I came to meet my newborn niece and kick it with my soul sister, who is also my sister by blood. But because of a giant Midwest ice-storm, instead of breathing stale airport air and hustling from one terminal to another, I’m lounging on the bed in the spare room with the sun streaming onto me from the window, open to the sounds of the street just a few feet below. From my perch I can see the trees surrounding Lake Merritt and the bus stop equipped with the belongings of the mute homeless guy who calls it home. When the breeze blows just right I can hear drumming from a large group of men playing not far from here, and in the span of a few minutes I can hear a multitude of languages spoken by the passersby below. I can smell the inside scents of a 100 year old building and the outside scents of the sea and the Mediterranean restaurant next door. Continue reading Five days in Oakland
Yesterday was Winter Solstice.
We still don’t have our lights up nor our tree brought home. I haven’t purchased many gifts. We haven’t baked much either. Continue reading The season’s a changin’
My quest to be more mindful is a constant process, but every once in awhile I have a mini breakthrough that seems life changing. One such breakthrough occurred Sunday… Continue reading Thanksmas shift
At dinner last night TJ and I discussed our upcoming 13th wedding anniversary, and we also acknowledged that next month we will be closer to 40 than 39. Both of these conversation tracts reminded me of a blog I’d written last summer but never shared. I revisited it, and it still seems relevant enough to post: Continue reading Birthday clarity