Urinal

 This is the shop bathroom.  I'm a fan of having my very own bathroom and this one has heat, a vent fan, sink, toilet and even some cabinets and drawers (which I don't really need in the bathroom but it's nice to have a spot for some clothes and supplies for now).

I'm hoping to get a shower set up where the toilet is and move the toilet to the opposite corner.  Which means some extended downtime and cutting concrete to get the new toilet flange in position, T into the sewer line, and convert the existing toilet flange to a shower drain.

I was already planning to add a sink to the other side of this wall which is part of the workshop for dishes and hand washing there, always nice to have two sinks.  But I'm thinking I might do a smaller sink and add a urinal in the bathroom and just move the utility sink to the workshop as my dishes sink, along with the dishwasher.  That way I can keep my dishes out of the bathroom which feels like a prudent thing.  My workshop is a pretty clean space, whereas the prior owner used it for building stuff so it got much dirtier.

So, I find myself perusing urinals.  At least they aren't expensive.

Back to the mat

I went to a yoga class last night, first real class in what feels like 10 years?  It felt good, crowded and sweaty, but nice to reconnect to this pile of flesh I'm stuck in.

I raced CIM last year, 2:46, it was nice to finish strong after my troubles there in the past but also ironic that I'm more proud of my old guy time which is actually my slowest ever on the course:

I got myself a workshop at the very end of last year and that's been fantastic, having space to stretch out and get organized.

The boys are 8 and 6, quite the handful, doing a few ski trips this winter, riding bikes, settling in after the move.

Oh yeah, we moved to the PNW, outside of Portland.  It rains here.  It rains a lot.

Also, everyone in this town is fast and everyone runs.  Random guy from a neighbor dinner party ran a 2:30 in his first 'thon.  A friend jokes that his dentist says "I don't really run" but pulled off a 2:18.  And there's no racial diversity.  And it rains.  Everything is wet all winter.

But it's green and the trees are glorious, wonderful, amazing.  Kayaking in the river is nice.  Real estate is less unaffordable and traffic is slightly less brutal.  And I haven't had a sunburn in ages.

Let's see if I can keep a short journal flowing.

Samskaras

The classroom is simply the arena in which we can witness our deeply ingrained habits in all their glory.

I stumbled upon this article and couldn't stop myself from realizing how appropriate these words are for me to read.  Even down to the "Devil that you know" quote which is an old line from a co-worker.  Samskaras are very real, and nowhere are they as obvious and on display than on the mat.

We all have patterns and we all repeat ourselves.  It takes an extended period of interaction to identify these samskaras and I believe this is one reason why relationships get harder post-honeymoon, when partners begin to really see each others samskaras.  Whether the cause stems from a previous life is beyond my ability to equivocate, but the reality of our samskaras really does affect our daily lives within this physical existence and as such seems very worthy of attention.

Since this blog is all about me anyway, I'll go ahead and make this personal.  Below is a list of some of my most annoying samskaras:

• Self depracation (for sport or sometimes just because it feels good)
• Punctuality (despite knowing this is my issue, it surfaces almost every day for me)
• Written and verbal discipline.  (Talk less, say more)
• Inability to say no (fear of missing out)
• Priorities (I think this is one area I've made progress with)

I love the mental imagery of samskaras as dirt on the mirror of the soul.  Perhaps it's the type-A in me who instantly wants to wipe any dirty mirror clear and clean.  I realized today that I've probably regressed in many of these key areas as my practice has slipped due to teaching, work, and a relationship taking up some of the space which was previously available.  I suppose that is yet another one reason why I love to practice.  The mat calms me down.  The mat helps me locate my center.  And the mat helps me identify my areas of growth, the parts of my soul which have opportunity for growth.

The beautiful thing about taking the seat of a teacher is that I've seen this in my students.  Now that I have enough experience to identify certain patterns, particularly among repeat students, I am privileged to see all of the subtleties of their practice which they may not even notice.  From camping out in the exact same spot of the room to how each pose is expressed, personalities are on display and samskaras are on the surface of those mirrors.  Watching all of that, knowing that I am not alone in my quest to transform, help me to dedicate myself to this intention.

Return

Have you ever wondered why the big key on the right side of your keyboard sometimes says "enter" and sometimes says "return"?  This falls into the grey area of computer history, at one point in time certain operating systems had different purposes for these two keys.  Carriage return (aka return aka down and to the left) was a descendant of that same function on the typewriter which sends the cursor down one line and to the leftmost margin.  At it's heart, return is a character formatting key.  Enter, on the other hand, often appears on the number pad and is typically used to tell the little man inside the computer that you're done with your part and it's his turn to do something.  For example, I might type a bunch of numbers separated by + characters and when I press enter I'd expect to know how much they add up to.

For obvious reasons, the lines between these two keys became blurred as certain operating systems cared while others did not.  Just as some filesystems are case sensitive (flavors of Unix in particular) and others are not (VMS and Windows as examples) the confusion creates a drift towards the midline, and basic rules are formed to ensure those with rudimentary knowledge don't get too lost.

In my personal life, at this point in time, both keys seem to be quite fitting.  I've begun to run again, despite having next to no fitness to leverage, and it feels good to bring myself back into the world of hurt.  I don't want to jinx myself, I don't know how long this current effort will last, but I'd like for it to be sustainable.  I'd like to call myself a runner again.  It's a cool feeling to float across the ground.  Especially when you weight 180 lbs.

At the same time, I'm entering new territory.  Both of my roommates have moved out and I live with Miss Sonja and her dog Jack in a house that becomes increasingly ours.  It's become quite peaceful despite the endless stream of home improvement projects we've dug into together.  As I enter a bit more of a family minded lifestyle, I can't help but laugh about how different it all seems than 4 years ago, and yet how similar all at the same time.

I got one of those horrible and yet oddly beautiful emails this morning, from a good friend who recently got married and is now separating.  It's a trip when you are friends with both and there is no real blame, just two people who spent 7 years together and now are drifting apart.  The only true constant is change.

In the meantime, other friends have gotten engaged, some are recently pregnant, and my neighbors are moving away.  All sorts of change surrounds me.

In the midst of it all, I continue to attempt to strike a balance.  A balance between running and yoga, one which tightens and constricts and challenges unlike any other endeavor I know of, and the other which loosens and restores and rejuvenates, nurturing space which I've only recently become quite fond of.

Sometimes I miss my opportunities to attempt to pause and make sense of it all, life just seems to be moving far too fast.  I envy those who have created space to meditate and take life on their terms.  But I know how easy it is to assume everyone else has their s together when the reality of life is that we may drive at times but nobody is truly in total control.  I've never stopped making mistakes, so I'll never run out of learning opportunities.

For now, I think the most dramatic signal in my life is how unique each of my friendships is.  Every person in my life seems so different than anyone else.  Where I used to get frustrated when someone adhered to something other than a social norm, I now look at that with wonder and amazement as it it were a fruit I have never tasted.

Substitute

My friend, mentor, and master of purpose, Mike, told me soon after I started teaching (and I'm paraphrasing) "Congrats!  Now, can you sub for me on ..."  It was meant in jest, but it was an accurate representation of the environment a new yoga teacher is suddenly immersed in once he or she begins to teach.

Illness, injury, vacation, and fatigue, friends from out of town, or multi-person swaps all become reasons why schedules are shuffled.  Those of us who are green and new to the experience are all too apt to pick up extra classes.  Those who have been teaching for a long time seem to be less apt to fall on their swords, perhaps having already done so on many occasions only to reach burnout and exhaustion themselves.

There is a tangible excitement to being a part of something which is growing, even when that growth seems at times out of control.

In the midst of it all, however, true colors are seen.  Some of the experienced, some of the leaders, step forward to help others and take charge.  The intricacies of how words are expressed, of how people help each other, becomes a microcosm of life, of society, of interaction.

It all continues to enlighten me.

Mom

I had a dream last night.  During this dream, I spoke with my mother.

The discussion centered on weight, how she did not want me to see her thinned down from chemo, how she would have preferred that I saw her healthy and fleshy as I had in the past.

There was also some strange contraption set up to catch rainwater and add lemon juice.  In an attempt to feel a closer connection, I grabbed the container and attempted to pour the contents into my mouth.  I somehow missed and soaked my chest without tasting even a drop.  My mother appeared and demonstrated how to drink for me, as if I never knew how.  It seemed so obvious once she showed me how.  I wondered why I found it difficult in the first place.

Perhaps this yoga fascination, both as teacher and student, has a tie to my lost mother, the mother I haven't been able to speak to for almost 20 years now.  Perhaps the learning and sharing and the exploration of new without leaving the room is exactly what that mother to child connection meant to me back when it was accessible to me.

I'm not terribly sure, as with all dreams, they tend to ask more questions than they answer.

Happy Mother's Day to everyone:  moms, dads, sons, daughters.

C1

I teach my first official yoga class tomorrow night.  Official meaning this is the first time my name has appeared on the schedule.  I have to say it seems rather strange to me to read my own name when I look at the schedule which is roughly 10x a day :)

I am actually subbing as noted above.  I will be teaching the Tuesday and Friday 7:30 class on a weekly basis and once my training is over I'll be back to the Sunday free class which is something near and dear to my heart.  There is something special about free yoga for me, and as someone who is still fairly new to this experience, it feels safe to be a part of a free class.  I also really like having the bar set nice and low.

Here is the playlist I am planning to use.

I was originally all fired up for my first class on Friday, as a bridge to the weekend, a transition out of the misery of office work hell, but now I'm going to have to be there one day early.

I don't have a theme totally dialed in yet but a lot of thoughts are running through my head.  My broken back from yesterday morning, the loss of my four footed friend, and the beginning of a new chapter of my life all seem to be taking center stage.

I've told a few friends this, but I'm sure it's a fairly universal experience.  When I rehearse in my head, I am this awesome instructor who says all the right words at all the right times.  But when I teach an actual class, I trip, I stumble, and I just plain forget all of the cool ideas I had stored up.  I wonder if the game will slow down, if I'll be able to really start pulling in those nuggets as planned.  It feels like I'm heading in that direction, but I'm still so very far away.

I'm about to attempt to write a bio.  This is one of the hardest types of writing I do.  I am phenomenally bad at writing about myself in a manner fit for general public consumption.  But that's sort of the whole point of yoga in the first place for me.  Doing something I am bad at because it is healthy to challenge myself.  It is healthy to be bad.  It is healthy to fail and flop and fall.  So here I go.

Look, ma, no hands!