Finding the Strawberry

To Texas

2011-08-10T15:28:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I leave for Texas. This was a trip planned prior to my father's death and something that I know he would want me to do. However, as I sit here at my mother's computer, with 3 recent photos of my father in front of me, I am reluctant to go.

Dealing with death is a funny thing. As a health care provider, I have read the stages of grieving. I know the importance of acceptance. I know the importance of not pretending it doesn't exist. As a human being and daughter, none of these things make sense to me. I went home to Rhode Island after his death and dove back into work, keeping up my house, and dinner with friends. Texas means I have none of those distractions. I will have to face his death and that pain it has left. This, I know, I am not good at.

I am hoping that my trip to Texas will be a positive one. A time to remember all the amazing things that made my father who he was. To remind me he is always with me in heart and spirit.

Hope

2011-08-08T16:38:00.000-07:00

I love his work.

Forever Ago

2011-08-08T16:07:00.000-07:00

It has been forever ago that I last posted. I had given up on blogging, feeling that there was nothing "exciting" worth blogging about...or reading about, for that matter. I have decided to start back up, if only to purge my thoughts, but maybe also to stay connected to those that are far from me.

A lot has happened. Where to start....

1) My new home (not exactly new any more) is Hope, Rhode Island. I love my home. Cows across the street. Lake in the back. Wonderful neighbors. And space. Lots of space.

2) I have transitioned into a full-time midwife. The past year has been very bumpy and I was not sure I would make it, but, amazingly I did. And I feel stronger for it.

3) My father died. One day he was there, and the next he was gone. This is not something that I have completely come to grips with and something that has deeply effected me in ways that I am not even sure I am aware of yet. This is a daily struggle for me.

4) I have not been on my mat for almost a year!

A year ago I would not have believed any of these things were possible. Not a single one. I spoke with a yogi friend of mine today and just talking with her motivated me to start blogging again. If if it is only for me, maybe it will help me to be more aware, present, and reflective.

So, I am going to start practicing again. Even if it is just Surya A and B, with closing postures, I will get back to my mat.

I am going to keep up with my reading. Less TV. More books.

I am going to start journaling/writing. I was told to do this by a healer in India, and have resisted.

What I am reading now: The Tiger's Wife

Not Just About The Coffee

2010-05-18T17:58:00.000-07:00

Short and sweet today.

Grabbing a cup of coffee (or tea) is never just about the coffee. I love the event of sitting in a coffee shop, talking, laughing, and just being in the moment of it all. Coffee breaks are what helped me make it through midwifery school. Taking a small break from all the chaos that surrounds our lives and really enjoying the company of another till the very last drop.

I had coffee this morning, after practice, with a dear friend. We talked and listened to each other. We laughed. We theorized. We traded stories. I think that some of the most profound moments through out my life were discussed over coffee. I love leaving a conversation with thoughts to ponder and mull over...chew on and swirl around in the back of my mind. I love to be inspired by those around me. I yearn to learn passion from passion, spirit from spirit, and contentment from contentment…and even more, acceptance from acceptance. Amazing what can be done over coffee.

I truly cherish these moment of connectedness.

A Pit in My Stomach, A Knot in My Throat

2010-04-30T11:20:00.000-07:00

Today is one of those days where I dont have any real pressing issues that need to be addressed. No papers to fax or bills to pay. Just a little down time. And what did I do with this "down time" you ask...I watched Food, Inc.

This is a movie that I have wanted to see for some time. I have a very hard time with these types of movies. When I went to see Fast Food Nation in theaters, I spent the last 10 minutes of the movie with my eyes shut tight as tears streamed down my face. This movie spurred in me the same reaction. By the end of it I think I cried 5 different times, and was left with the biggest pit in my stomach and a huge knot in my throat.

I am in no way perfect. While I consider myself vegetarian, I am times will eat fish and still wear leather shoes or purchase a leather bag on occasion. I often find myself buying food out of convenience instead of nutrition or impact to the environment. I feel compelled to blog only because in watching this movie I was reminded of something someone said to me in India while at a lecture on nutrition. While paraphrasing, the jest of the statement was that our energy goes into all that we do. The example he used was that if an animal is scared, in pain, or suffering, this goes into our food. The energy of the person that slaughters that animal goes into our food. We then eat this animal and absorb all this negativity.

I am sure that you can see the larger implications of this statement in most things in our lives. It is not about not eating meat, but about the energy that fuels what we put into our body and bring into our lives. I was so taken aback by the grand scope of impact that our American food culture has had. From animal abuse, to people falling ill from hyper-resistant strains of e-coli, to exploitation of immigrants, to obesity. How is this good for us? How does this help us?

At this moment I feel hugely overwhelmed. I feel like this is a topic I keep revisiting in my life and always end up falling back into old habits. I change where I shop for food only to realize that I am having difficulty affording it. I buy organic only to find out it may not make a difference. I buy one brand over another, only to find out they were bought out by some mega-company. It is so deeply confusing and hard. I am not sure where to re-start or how to do it differently this time around. Suggestions very welcome.

To be continued...

Anahata Chakra

2010-04-17T10:51:00.000-07:00

I have been wanting to sit down and write this blog since I got home last night, but as I sank into the couch fatigue settled in. So, as I sit here with my cup of coffee and an english muffin, I write my "ah-ha" moment from yesterday.

I preface this post with a "warning." If you dont believe in healers (the spiritual kind, not the physicians we have come to regard in our culture as healers) then you might find this posting a little hokey. With that having been said, if you desire please read on.

I did not write about this during my trip because at the time the experience seemed very personal and I was still trying to place all the pieces into some kind of graspable form. I bring it up now because of the connection I made with it the other day. While in India, during my travels towards the end of my trip, I went to a healer. I, true to my nature, was skeptical. I went in expecting that he would tell me some vague generalization that could be applied to anyone's life in manipulated in the right way. While the session lasted 30 minutes, with all the details taking too long to type out here, in a nutshell, this man told me things about myself that no one but me could have ever known. One thing that he told me was that my heart chakara, the fourth one, was blocked. What does this mean? It means that I have a hard time opening up and letting people in. I am skeptical, critical (especially of myself), and at times can be distant or hard to read. He told me that I had to work on opening up this chakra because it was not good for my health. Without even telling him, he said..."this is the cause of your migraines."

I know what this healer said, all that he said, to be true. And last night, I realized why the yoga community that I practice with has such a profound place in my life. They help me to open my heart chakra.

So often I write about how important my yoga family is in my life, but I don’t think I ever had a very tangible explanation why. I just knew, somewhere deep down, that it had become part of who I am. The fellow students, the teacher, the space had all become woven into the matrix of what made me ME.

They do so much than just push me out of the bed to come to practice when all I want to do is hit the snooze button. They teach me compassion and humility. They teach me to laugh at myself. They teach me to relish in the excitement of a good book. They teach me to soften (especially my shoulders☺). They teach me acceptance by showing acceptance. They share wisdom and insight. They have taught me how to live my life and open my heart.

Two statements stand out in my mind from last night. One dear yogi said, “It is what we do off the mat. If it was just about the asanas then this practice would be no different that the cirque du soleil.” Another dear yogi said, “To manifest change there are three components. One is the sangha (community) that helps to set the example of what you want to become. How you should live. What you should aspire to.”

To these two yogis. To all the yogis I practice with every morning. To my teacher. Thank you.

At the Present Moment

2010-04-16T07:47:00.000-07:00

Things have been very busy. There are very few constants in the equation and many variables orbiting around. Here are things as they stand...

1. I got a job!

2. We have accepted a bid on our Philly home and are awaiting the home inspection.

3. Sunday we head up to Providence, RI to start looking for houses. Very scary.

4. My practice is on its road to becoming more steady, more consistent. I am trying to take in every moment with my teacher, the studio, and especially my yoga family.

5. I got a library card! I know this sounds so mundane, but I am actually very excited about it. It has become quite costly to buy books with the amount I am reading these days, so I thought I would borrow from the library till I start my job. Its kind of exciting to have almost unlimited choices and they are all FREE! The only draw back is most of the books are hardcover...not my favorite.

6. Things for the wedding are coming together quite well. Trying to get all the ends tied up, at least somewhat, before we leave.

In the chaos I have noticed some "Small Surprises"...

1. A high-five at the end of practice from your teacher really is a nice start to the day. Amazing how something so familiar placed in an unusual setting can really bring a smile to your face.

2. I love my house. As things draw closer to moving, I realize how much I love our home, our street, our lives in Philly.

3. I love practice.

4. The house is way too quiet without the dogs and cats, and the bed now feels super huge and spacious.

5. Registering for wedding gifts is actually a lot of fun.

6. I am growing up...

Above are some pictures of the house from the listing. It looks so different without all our "junk" in it.

Not So Rosie the Riveter

2010-03-16T07:34:00.000-07:00

Today was my first day back to complete second series after almost 3 months of practicing only primary while in Mysore. How did it go you ask? Well, lets just say I am no Rosie the Riveter. I am always amazed when I become very conscious and in tune with my body. Because of my background in gymnastics I have always felt that there was an ease in the physical practice. Not that I don't have to work hard, but I believe there is a memory of flexibility and strength. There is an aspect of the asanas that just come naturally, and sometimes without consciousness of how the postures are manifesting. This has its positives and its negatives. One draw back is sometimes I am not as connected with the physical. Today I was.

For the past 2 years I have practiced second series with consistent regularity. My body got to a point where the movement flowed with some level of steadiness. My muscles remembered each pose, each intention. Unknowingly, the strength was there and was growing. What I am amazed with is there I was so unaware of the strength I had built up. The energy paths that I developed. I was completely in the dark about how my practice had grown. How my body had grown.

When I began my practice today I was not aware of the realization that I would have. As I moved through the postures, not only did I have to think very hard about the order but it was like I was dragging my body, struggling through every pose. The things that have always come easily, were difficult. Poses that I just move right into needed every ounce of energy and concentration to get into. All the strength that I had developed seemed completely absent. Gone. This practice was such a tangible experience that has really opened my eyes to how important it is to take care of the body. Nothing is permanent.

My teacher commented on my Kapotasana today. This has to be one of the most uncomfortable poses in second series. He said..."hold it longer." HOLD IT LONGER! HOLD IT LONGER! He clearly did not get the memo that this pose is lacks any comfort is any way shape or form:) When I asked him what he meant he said..."hold it longer and really feel the circular flow of energy from the head and hands into the feet." I get this...at least in the mental aspect. Tomorrow I will try to get it on the physical and energetic level....maybe....if I can hold it longer.

Day Light Savings

2010-03-14T17:07:00.000-07:00

I have been the biggest blog slacker. My last two weeks in India went completely unreported. Not even a picture to document my travels.

In attempt to make up for lost time I have posted some pictures from the last two weeks in India. I hope you enjoy.

Since being back things have been moving at a somewhat fast pace. In the span of two weeks I have passed my midwifery boards, decided to probably move out of Philly, met with a real estate agent about selling our house, and got a job interview! So much change happening so quickly. It is exciting and scary all at the same time.

Practice has been very sweet since being back. There is something deeply comforting about practicing next to friends. Practicing next to people who you have seen day in and day out, spent early early mornings with, laughed next to, and maybe even occasionally fallen over onto their mats. There are a lot of new people, and I still feel a little like I have been away forever and missed a big transition period, but I am sure this will pass.

This morning I arrived at the studio, at what I thought was on time. I was so confused. The room was packed and everyone was almost half way though their practice. It was only at the moment that I laid my mat down that I realized it was day light savings! Silly Me.

A Practice of the Self

2010-02-09T05:02:00.000-08:00

It is my last week of practice in Mysore. I am both sad and joyous. For some reason today I am in a bit of a funk. Not sure why and cannot pinpoint the origin. I guess everyone has a bad day.

Practice was good. Strong. Steady. I caught my calves in dropbacks and stood on my own for the whole 5 breaths. This is something I never imagined possible.

There is a lot that I never imagined possible that has happened on this trip. Unfortunately, I dont think that it would all translate in a blog. I have had numerous "ah-ha" moments and really grown in both my practice and in my spirit. I have done a lot of deep exploration of my body and my mind. It is because of this that I am excited about returning home in 2 weeks. I am constantly questioning myself and challenging myself to stay rooted in what I have learned here. I am aware of the difficulty of transplanting information and knowledge from one environment into another environment, but am ready to take on the task.

I was discussing self-practice with a friend today, and in thinking about it all now, these are my thoughts in a much more broad interpretation. In the end it is you and only you. There will be teachers, friends, community, but ultimately you determine your path, your progress, your destination. It is not how others see you, but how you see yourself, connect with that self, and accept that self. Ultimately, that is what matters and that is where happiness is cultivated. From within.

Here in Mysore, in the shala, I feel very connected with the notion of self-practice. Even though there are many practicing at once, and the shala is filled from wall to wall, there is a level of individuality, singularity, and independence. For the most part, you are left to your self to "figure" things out and amazingly...you do. In many ways I think a better term would be "a practice of the self." Just as other realizations that I have had here, I am not sure that feeling is measurable or describable.

Trice and I went to the palace the other night. It is completely lit up for 1 hour on Sundays. It was beautiful and more than we ever expected. The day before we spend the afternoon wondering around the market.

I promise to stop being such a slacker and make sure to blog these last few days. I am unsure what the last 2 weeks of travel with hold with regards to internet access, but I will try to post at least some pictures.

Smacking into Sharath

2010-02-04T02:41:00.000-08:00

Yes. I smacked into Sharath during practice today! It is not as tragic as it sounds, and was actually a little funny. I will have to thank David G. for this one:) I have adopted the practice of jumping into the foundational poses, instead of just stepping back into them. Well. This morning I had the lovely privileged to be smack (hehe) dab in the middle of the room. I was all "feeling the energy" and really into my practice this morning...you know, one of those 100% focused moments that are so rare. I about to move into utthita parsvakonasana (extended side angle). I prep. Bend my knees. Bring my arms together. And JUMP! SMACK! My right hand slammed into Sharath's left shoulder. I immediately apologized. He just laughed at me and said something that I totally missed because I was so mortified. He seemed to find the whole event quite humorous. That's what I get for being so focused:)

I thought I would post something a bit on the lighter side today. Here is a short list of interesting things that happened to me today while floating around India:

1. Tiger balm is super super super cheap here. I spent 20 rupees on one bottle. That is like 50 cents!

2. Prescription strength ibuprofen is over the counter. Yes, I got 600mg tabs with no prescription, and it only cost about 30 rupees. And they are bright pink! I can only imagine that if you werent a health care provider or didnt have any idea about how many milligrams were in certain medications, that one could get into some serious trouble at the pharmacy. (see picture above)

3. Contact solution can also be purchased at the pharmacy only and, unlike in the US where a bottle cost me $8, here it is a whopping 100 rupees.

4. Who knew that Roald Dahl, the author of all the famous children's books, is also the author of scary short stories too! So exciting. The caption under the title is "perfect bedtime stories for those who relish sleepless nights."

5. I am finally caving in and reading "Atlas Shrugged." Trice has already warned my that it may not speak to my "socialist" ideas:)

6. A roti (similar to a tortilla) with unrefined sugar is YUMMY! Definitely does not make me nauseous.

7. Rickshaw drivers are not like taxis in NY. Many times they have no idea where they are going and often have to ask for directions....multiple times.

8. I have a scarf addiction.

Trice and I have been fighting off a head cold for the past week. She is a few days behind me and feeling the worst of it. Those pink ibuprofen are coming in handy. I posted a picture of Trice hiding out under the covers, sleeping. She blended right into the bed.

It is to bed early for us tonight. Led practice at 4:30am!

Irritated With Every Rub

2010-02-02T20:29:00.000-08:00

My best friend has a quote that is permanently posted at the end of every email. Where some people put their professional titles and place of employment, she instead has one of the most beautiful and profound quotes.

"If you are irritated by every rub, how will you be polished?"
~Rumi

I was irritated this morning. No doubt about it. I awoke to extreme irritation at the alarm clock. Why are you going off so early?! Why cant I just sleep a little longer. I dragged myself out of bed, headed to the bathroom, and flicked on the light. Why light are you so bright?! Still half asleep, I almost brushed my teeth with tap water. Wouldnt that be a lovely experience. Once our stuff was all collected, Trice and I headed to practice. We walked most of the way in silence, broken only with an occasional sniffle related to the end of my cold and a little cough from Trice as she develops the cold. My spot in the room this morning was all the way in the corner by the women's locker room. This may seem like a rather bad spot since there is mass quantities of traffic flowing through that area, but, I thought to myself, it is better than yesterdays spot near the entry door. Everythin g on my mat irritated me. I felt like I was being scrubbed with a brillo pad. My body was tight (could be the pizza I ate yesterday afternoon). My nose was running. My head hurt. My eye was twitching. The person in front of me was hogging the space. You get the point. Seed chewing galore on my mat this morning.

It is funny because I dont know what brings on days like this. Some people are very in tune with what causes days like this. Maybe sugar. Maybe alcohol. Maybe eating too late. I have yet to determine the cause of practices like today's. I was so acutely aware of how I was feeling today. With only a 9 practices left till Trice and I head to the north to travel a bit, I am feeling like the end is so close and my time so limited. I love this practice. It makes me so in tune and observant of how I am feeling, whats going on in my mind/body/spirit. This practice polishes me. It is uncomfortable. Some days it sucks. Some days you just want to lay on your mat and cry. But polish it does. This whole experience is really scrubbing me, and not in that toxic silver polisher kind of way. This trip is giving me a lot of space to grow and understand me and my practice. And the amazing part is that it is because of me that I am being polished. I am questioning myself. Questioning the ins and outs of my practice. Delving deep and uncovering me. Not what others think of me, or what others think I should think or do or say. Just good old me finding out about me.

As I headed towards back bends today, I thought, please dont let Sharath come over to assist me. He will make me grab my calves, and I am in no way in the mood. But, as luck would have it he strolled right over. I took a deep breath, crossed my arms, and prepared for the worse. Inhale, exhale back. Inhale up, exhale back. Inhale up, exhale back. Inhale up, arms up, exhale slowly slowly slowly go back. He grabbed my right hand. One ankle. He grabbed my left hand. Other ankle. He grabbed my left hand again. Right calf. Left hand. Left calf. Breathe. Oh, wow, I am balancing on my own...if only for a second! Inhale up. "Much better" he said. Irritation lifted. It must have been residing in my spine:)

Someone asked me at breakfast today whether I was excited to be heading home soon. Its seems such a funny question for some reason. Isnt everyone excited to go home at the end? We learn so much here and half the fun is going home an applying it all. I am excited to go home (when the time comes). I am excited because I realize how much I miss everyone. I realize home much I love my home. I miss my family and friends. I miss my yoga community. I am excited to head home soon, a little more polished and shiny. Maybe even a sparkler. My spirit feels invigorated.

Pictures: Last week when we climbed all the stairs to the temple there was a small house with an OM symbol painted on the front door. I think maybe this may be in my fount door's future. Yes, I know....how could I eat Dominos!! I would never in 100 years eat this at home, but desperate times call for desperate measures. There is no price for a settled stomach.

My Teacher

2010-01-31T20:48:00.000-08:00

It has been a few days since I have blogged. Partly because I have been sick and the other part because no one would want to read about me lying around reading my book. I spent all of yesterday (except for practice and conference with Sharath) sleeping and resting in bed. I have been downing mass quantities of water in hopes that I can flush my body of whatever is holding it hostage. Today I feel on my way to better. At conference Sharath talked about practicing when we dont want to. I felt like he was talking right to me. Back home, I probably would have stayed in bed on Sunday morning and not practiced. However, while it was not pleasant, it was not as tragic a practice as I thought it would have been. I hope I can take this new resurgence in dedication back home with me to Philly.

Practice was surprising today. Yesterday, I about near had to drag myself on to my mat, and I was a bit concerned that today would be as difficult. However, it went swimmingly. I felt well rested, had a good spot with lots of room, and was reminded about how much the breath can tell you about your practice. Last week I was given Krounchasana. I practiced through Krounchasana (which is a lot more open after practicing primary series) and prepared for back bending. I did my three urdvha dhanurasanas and came to stand...to Sharath's face. "You do krounchasana?" I replied yes and asked if he wanted to see. He looked at me and said "No. I believe you. Wednesday you do Salabasana and Bhekasana. Both." And that was that. I did three half drop backs and then grabbed my calves. No big deal:)

I have been thinking a lot about what it means to be a teacher and am sure have exhausted Trice's ears with chatter about it. More specifically what it means for me to call someone "my teacher." In the dictionary is states: a teacher is someone who teaches or instructs. Now, forget the fact that you are not supposed to use the word in the definition, but I do not think that this does any justice to the profession of teaching or that it gives any idea of what it truly means to be a teacher. Uneasy as it makes me feel to say this out loud, I feel a bit lost when it comes to identifying someone as my yoga teacher. I place teachers in very high regard (especially because my mother was one...and still is in essence) and really set the bar high. I really love the student teacher relationship and the dance that exists between them. I thrive well as a student and really embrace that role. Sharath definitely meets that bar and then soars above it. I trust him to guide my practice. My body trusts him (I know this because my body responds, not in tension, but in acceptance). I trust what he tells me. This would be all fine and dandy if I lived here in India and could practice with him always, but this is not the case. I will leave Mysore in 2 weeks, and in another 2 weeks I will be home. Sharath will always be my teacher, but I deeply desire this connection back home. This new revelation makes me a bit uneasy and I am not sure that this blog even articulates my thought process. Maybe I should be keeping this all to myself and just plug along on my path, but it feels better to write it down. I used to feel connected to a teacher during my first year or so, but times change and so does the world around us. I have to admit to myself that I am looking for someone to call "My Teacher."

On Saturday we went to the Metropol, which is a fancy hotel, for lunch. The hotel is like something out of a movie. It is very reminiscent of British colonialism. I felt like I was in the movie "Lawrence of Arabia." We ate and chatted and just enjoyed. The pictures above are from out trip.

In My Past Life....

2010-01-28T01:39:00.000-08:00

I have not blogged in a few days because our days have been a little lazy and uneventful. It has been a nice little pause from all the chaos and allowing my reserves to refill.

Yesterday Trice and I went to past life regression therapy. Now, for those of you who have never heard of this (as I had not until Trice brought me into the loop), it is a practice that allows you to see/address/view your past lives. You come with an issue that you are working on in this life and, hopefully, you go to the past life that is influencing that issue or a past life where you were able to resolve that issue. I was skeptical and a bit nervous. What if, in a past life, I was an ax murder? a wife abuser? a republican?!

And so, I went for my session. Without giving all the nitty-gritty of it and boring you, I will jump to the interesting part. My issue you ask? Anxiety. Never feeling good enough. Fear. This was my "issue" for the day. And so I entered into a past life and this is what I saw. My name was Cynthia, Cindy for short. At the age of 3 I saw my mother fall from a step stool in the kitchen, hit her head on the counter, and die immediately. As a child I was a bit plump and enjoyed sweets, which is what had brought me into the kitchen where I saw my mother's death. Taken in by an older neighbor woman, I grew up to be very obese (think the movie "Shallow Hal" as a size reference) who was lonely. I had no friends because I felt I was not good enough and I lived my life in solitude. I worked in a bookstore and never dated. At the age of 56, I died of a heart attack alone in my bedroom. I had so many feelings of fear, loneliness, and inadequacy that it was palpable. I know this sounds very depressing and very sad, but Kumar (the past life therapist) then asked the self in the past life what I would tell the me of now. I said "Be happy. Just let it go."

I am not sure what effect, if any, this session will have on me, but the experience that I had was profound. The true and tangible emotions that come of this cannot be denied. I can see the connections that past life could potentially have on this life. I want to believe that I was able to let something go. I have signed up for one more session, and if anything, it was a great experience. I mentioned this to Mark in an email the other day and instead of scoffing at it he said "It makes sense." At least I am not totally off my rocker:)

I spend the afternoon with Jill-ji today. A nice little slice of home here in India. We went to the bookstore, then to FabIndia, and then to lunch. We gabbed, we laughed, we just enjoyed. It was lovely.

Pictures: a Pug puppy in a laundry basket taking a nap in style; Trice with the monkey that ate my banana

A New Pose

2010-01-24T20:38:00.000-08:00

Yesterday's practice was slow, heavy, and tight. After climbing all those stairs, I think my hips and calves went on strike. And so, yesterday we just relaxed for the afternoon. I got the chance to finish the book I was reading, which was bitter sweet. It was one of those books that you want to get to the ending, but it is so good you dont want it to end. Two thumbs up. I treated myself to the smallest, little, miniature scoop of ice cream and it was good. I have tried to have a few little treats, and all have come up very short. Moisture is a bit lacking in baked goods. But the ice cream was yummy, and even had a little chunk of brownie in it. Hit the spot.

We figured out how to watch some movies online, which is a nice reprieve to all the mental motion that goes on while trying to acclimate to India. We turned off all the lights, drew the curtains, and snuggled down for a little mindless enjoyment.

When the alarm went off this morning I was actually a little sluggish, even though compared to led start time, our mysore time is like sleeping in. I dragged myself out of bed and we headed out. The mornings seem to been a bit cooler the past few days and the quiet walk to the shala is really nice. The vestibule filled up quickly and I was happy we got there on the earlier side (Trice calls me the slave driver about getting out of the apartment no later than 6:15). When I heard "one more" I grabbed my mat and headed into the practice room. Today I had focus. I felt relaxed. I felt soft. I like it when I can find this space. I proceeded to move through the fundamentals, when Sharath stood over me and said "You take Pasasana. Only Pasasana." I nodded in recognition, tried not to giggle, but smiled a little inside at the same time. It is a great privilege to be given the first post in second series. My deep respect for this practice makes me keenly aware of the importance and significance of this. And for this I am thankful. Pasasana. I forget how deep and open the post can be after the entire primary series practice.

We bought some homemade peanut butter and bread this morning outside the shala. We are very excited about this. The peanut butter in stores is very expensive and the kind that has all sorts of fake stuff in it, like Jiffy back home. The homemade stuff is incredible. And who knew baked bread could make two girls so excited!

Pictures: What we have noticed from driving around southern India is that the practice of digging up HUGE trees and their roots is very common. On out way to dinner we always pass this enormous root. Trice got under and pretended to carry it. So silly. Although, with the way her muscles are growing she maybe could carry it away:) The monkeys here are everywhere and have no boundaries when it comes to personal space. I posted one picture of a rather large an in charge monkey just chillin'. Tomorrow I will post the picture of Trice and the monkey that ate my banana. I have also posted a picture of my puppies. I miss them and am constantly reminded of them by the dogs here.

Way Better Than A Stairmaster

2010-01-23T03:00:00.000-08:00

Today is our rest day from practice, so we headed off to Chamundi Temple here in Mysore. The temple is at the top of a huge hill and to reach it you must climb over 1000 steps (although, when we got to the top we realized there is a slacker route via a road straight to the top). We arrived at the bottom of the steps and headed upwards. The steps were many, uneven, and quite steep. As you are walking up we noticed the little red and yellow smudges on the fronts of each step. This is for the most devout of people, as they reach down and touch each and every step. Trying not to pass out was devotion enough for us. When we reached the top, a bit sweaty, but thankful that we decided to make the trek in the morning before the sun became brutal, we were greeted by a beautiful and intricate temple. Now forgive me if I am inaccurate, but from my research the temple is to the goddess Durga. She is a fierce goddess that helps you in time of great need and desperate situations. She is the "one who can redeem in situations of utmost distress". She manifests as fearlessness and patience, and never loses her sense of humor. She is often pictured riding a lion. I like here and for some reason she resonates with me.

Durga is deep inside the temple and you actually cannot get close to her statue. Everyone leaves money and offerings of flowers or coconuts to her, then places their hands over the small fire at the entrance and places their hands over their face. Thankfully, an older woman showed us what to do and we too gave our respects. Outside the temple we were given red and yellow string that was wrapped around out right wrists. From what I found out, it is given for protection when you have gone to make an offering to a god/goddess.

We stayed a while and looked around. While we were there the king of Mysore apparently entered into the temple, which seemed to be a big deal. Based off of the fact that he had a procession of cars and was riding in a BMW, I would think this is an accurate statement. We stopped for a moment to have a coconut and rest before heading back down, and this is when we were introduced to the father upfront and greedy monkeys. As Trice finished up her coconut, the monkey sat patiently waiting for her to fork it over. When she was done, the monkey grab it, straw and all and took off. I had a banana in my pocket and began to peel it so I could enjoy its contents when another monkey came scurrying over and grab it out of my hand. It was all in great humor. You snooze, you lose.

Now, we thought the trip up was a feat, but the trip down was just as taxing. Unlike the Indians that seem to just spring down, we we moving slow and with great caution so as not to take a tumble down. By the time we reached the bottom our legs were shaking. Quite the experience!

I was going to post yesterday about the dogs here in India, but after writing it all out I decided not to share it. I will leave it at this...I am deeply saddened by how many dogs live here and my heartstrings are tugged on a regular basis. Dont worry Mark, I will not be bringing any puppies home:)

Led practice tomorrow at 4:30am. We are heading off to the palace in Mysore tomorrow evening. Should be fun and produce some good pictures.

"And All the Over-Achievers See This As A Gift!"

2010-01-21T01:02:00.000-08:00

"And all the over-achievers see this as a gift!" was Trice's reaction to this morning's news. While moving through the seated postures this morning at practice, Sharath ambled over to the woman next to me to adjust her in a pose. Trying to stay focused and remain calm, I jumped through to sit hoping I wouldn't smack him in the butt with my foot. Coming to sit and situating myself in marichasana C, he turned to me and said "You come tomorrow 4:30...and Sunday." "4:30?" I managed to squeak out. "Yes. 4:30. You and your friend. Come." And that was that. He had changed our start time for led class. I finished my practice. Grabbed my ankles during back bends and then picked up my mat and headed to the locker room for closing. Trice was already moving through her closing practice, and I could tell that Sharath had not graced her with the news yet. I thought to myself....I should let her enjoy savasana first before I break the new to her. We finished up, changed clothes and headed out. Silence is maintained in the shala, so I would have to wait till we were outside to tell her. As we reached the door, we turned to bow our heads to Sharath. I stepped out first with Trice behind me. She paused in response to his voice and I knew he had dropped the bomb. She walked out and turned to me with her eyes WIDE open and mouthed "4:30!." I just smiled.

Pictures: an add for a loan (I thought this funny since at the age of 22 the idea of marriage gave me hives), me hanging out in the room

Winter Hats, Honking Horns, and Nan

2010-01-20T03:25:00.000-08:00

From what I hear from family and friends, the weather back home is cold. Now, when I reflect on what "cold" means to me, I picture below 10 degrees Fahrenheit, with a windchill of -5 and maybe even snow. The weather here, in comparison, is warm, but as Trice and I are starting to realize...warm and cold are completely relative. When we leave our apartment at 6:15am to walk to the shala, the temperature is probably around 65-70 degrees. We comment on how nice it is as we walk in our yoga pants and tops, and maybe a scarf around our necks. Indians attire on the other hand is drastically different. The man in the security booth that we pass every morning as we leave is always wearing a wool had, winter scarf wrapped around his face, and a heavy jacket. He sits there, huddled away as though there were a blizzard outside and he is protecting himself from frostbite. The rest of the people we encounter, from young to old, seem to find the weather here to be cold. Wool hats are common and jackets are not out of the ordinary. So as Trice and I sludge our way through the hot sun, sweat dripping down our backs as we climb the hill to our abode, we cannot help but laugh at all the bundled up Indians with desire that we too could feel cold.

Both Trice and I are very aware of what NYC driving is like. We are used to horns honking, people passing, and fast driving. India dwarfs NYC. I have never heard so much horn tooting. Drivers constantly honk. Honk to go through an intersection (I have yet to see a stop sign). Hong to pass people (which happens constantly). Honk to tell people...get the f*%k out of the way or I will run you over with my rickshaw. Now, they dont honk once. They honk multiple times and even when there is no possible way that you are not aware of their presence they honk a few more times for merit. It is very fascinating. I, however (Trice has much more patience for this practice), am over the honking. I know you are coming. I know you will squish me like a bug if I dont dive off the road and into the bushes. I can see your car coming. The New Yorker in me has been trying to get out. As the honking begins, I can feel the bird itching to come out of its cage and fly through the air. I want more than anything to "flip 'um the bird" but I have resisted. I have pacified the bird for the time being, but I cannot promise anything:)

We had another cooking class today. It went well. We learned a few northern Indian dishes, which are my favorite. Not only did we get to do some tasty dishes, but I got to learn how to make NAN! I am very excited about this. I think I could live off nan...plus it has no ghee, no butter, no oil and is not spicy which all adds up to a settled stomach. Now you ask, what is in nan? I bet you would have never guessed what goes into a piece of nan. The two main ingredients are white flour and YOGURT! Yes, plain yogurt. Never in a million years would I have said yogurt was a main component of nan. Well, now that I know, everyone back home start preparing for a little nan when I get back.

Practice has been good this week. The instruction is minimal, which I should have expected since there are about 60 people at one time in the shala. I have yet to be adjusted in anything but back bending, which is a mildly uncomfortable adjustment as Sharath makes me grab my ankles, but I am accepting of this. I know that I will learn, even if it comes more from myself and less from Sharath. Many people back home have asked if he has given me any second series' poses and the answer is no. The tradition is that you must be there a month before he will even think of starting someone on second. I am quite content with this, as I feel no pressure and get to just do my practice. I enjoy primary series and the softness of it for me allows me to really focus on the breath. I am waiting to the lessons that I will learn and the knowledge or clarity to present itself. "Do your practice. All is coming."

Pictures: Trice making nan, the potato chip making man making FRESH potato chips! yummy!

Seed Chewer

2010-01-17T21:29:00.000-08:00

I apologize ahead of time, but this entry has no silly rats or naked massages. It is a slow day, with lots of down time. Which for me always equals thinking, and in this case "seed chewing". I first heard my cousin use this term and was immediately draw to it because this is what I do. I take a thought and I chew, and chew, and chew. I roll it around in my head and chew. Never really getting anywhere, just causing more anxiety and tension. The seed chewing just continues to feed on itself. This is how I have spent my morning.

I am constantly reminded at how much I thrive on consistency and routine. I find comfort and easy is sameness. I am sure this is why I am draw to the tradition of Ashtanga. The repetition in practice, the steadiness in the flow, and most of all the same faces coming to the mat every morning. Being grounded, having a foundation, this I like.

I know this about myself. I have accepted the astrological influence of Cancer in my life. I have even grown to value this about myself. I do however, acknowledge the very obvious drawbacks to this mentality. Change is not my friend. Change is very uncomfortable. Change hurts and shakes me to my core.

I have been struggling with this on many fronts since arriving to India. At home, practice is surrounded by familiar face, familiar practices, familiar laughs. Here, at the shala, I know only two people. Everyone seems very intense and this change in energy has thrown me off a bit. I keep creating this serious in my head where everyone is judging me and each other. Total seed chewing moment. Totally self created.

Back home I grow fearful that the world I have know over the past few years is drastically changing. I am no longer a student (in the very formal sense), my best friend is moving away, my yoga home is changing, and I have no idea where I will be in 3 months. I am terrified. The seed has been planted and I am trying not to chew, but habit is strong. I feel a bit without a foundation. I feel my roots slipping from beneath the earth. I feel lost.

A friend mentioned to me the other day that I rarely post pictures of myself on my blog, so today, since I have taken no pictures yet, I will post some of me that Trice has taken.

Clutching My Mini Red MagLite

2010-01-16T20:19:00.000-08:00

Let me start the blog by saying that we had a wonderful trip during our two days off. With that having been said, I shall tell my story.

Let me just jump to the interesting part (for those readers who only ready the funny parts) and then I will quickly recap all the beauty of our travels. Having to improvise a little, due to the fact that the phone number in our travel book was wrong and so we had no reservations, we found a very small "resort" hidden away in a coffee plantation. There were only three rooms, two single rooms and a family cottage. The single rooms were already taken by other travelers and so Trice and I got this rather large family cottage, equip with a porch, 2 bathrooms, three beds, and a lofted area. Big, but oh well. After hiking around the plantation for a few hours, sitting by the fire in our room, and eating dinner by candle (the electricity was out...very common here in India), we headed to bed. It was early, maybe 9:00, but because there was no light, there was nothing else to do but sleep. Now begins the story...

I have to say that I headed to bed with some hesitancy. I like nature, but do not like to experience it where I am sleeping/eating/living. I quickly noticed that the roof and the walls did not meet...a perfect little place for creatures to crawl on in. Plus, just the area we were in was bound to invite nature into our cottage. I closed my eyes, deep breathing, pretended there were no bugs, and amazingly fell asleep. At around 10:45, I was startled awake by light pressure on my blanket. I quickly kicked my leg and repeated in a mantra fashion that there was nothing there. I continued this monologue in my head for about 2 minutes until I just could not shake the feeling that something was in bed with me. I sprung up, grab my mini maglite and flug the blanket off me. Nothing. Just me. Just them Trice screamed and jumped up, asking me if my foot touched her. I said no, and with the speed of light she jumped out of bed (the feet of our beds were attached). I shown my light over towards her and just then we both saw a big, gray RAT scurry over our beds and down onto the floor. It hustled across the room, around the trash can and then up the stairs to the lofted area. I wish I could express our frenzy as we stood on top of my bed and screamed. Trice tried to encourage me to go get him while she opened the door to try to get him out....nope...not going near the rat. The rat (we have since named him Raoul) then raced down and back up into the loft. With no sign of him, we climbed back into my bed...the two of us shoved into one twin size bed. I clutched my mini red maglite to my chest all night long with very little sleep to speak of. I dont think I have ever been so happy for 6am to come.

Other than that our trip was wonderful. We stopped to see the Golden Temple at the Tibetan refuge on the way to where we stayed (pictures above). The morning following the rat incident we went for a 4 hour (8mile) long hike through the coffee plantations and up into the hillsides. We climbed to the top of one such "hill" where the wind was blowing so strongly that you could almost lean into it and not fall. It was beautiful. Everything was so quite and peaceful. At night time, between the elevation where we were and the darkness of the countryside, we could see so many stars. Trice said it reminded her of Montana on the coldest of nights. I have begun to get used to the large amount of trash that fills the city ground where we are doing yoga, but where we were was completely clean. No litter or garbage, just nature. Quite the contrast.

Practice started back up again today. Led Primary. For some reason I was dragging when I got up this morning, no wanting to practice, but it was juicy. I felt light and well rested. Not dreading Uplutihi quite as much...which says a lot.

Rest for the Weary

2010-01-14T04:39:00.000-08:00

Led primary was how I greeted my day this morning. Being that tomorrow is the designated moonday, traditional Thursday mysore practice was switched to led primary which usually inhabits Friday mornings. For anyone that practices Ashtanga, you know that this is a blessing. Two days off from practice in a row! The small pleasures in life. Even though I have a fairly consistent practice, this first week at the shala has left my energy low, my body a tad sore, and my stomach a bit on the fritz.

As much as I love Indian food, I have to say I am unsure as to my stomach's perspective on the situation. Embarrassing as it is to admit, I actually thought about Ramen noodles today. You know, those negative nutritional value, high sodium, blocks of noodles that you secretively eat but swear out loud were what you ate back in college when you were a poor student. Yes, those noodles. I am not sure what brought them to mind. In the current state of my digestive system, they seem appealing. How very unfortunate. And as I reflect for a moment, this all may be TMI (too much information).

Led class today was hot. Just when I think it is not possible for me to sweat anymore, I find myself with a miniature waterfall off the tip of my nose. I have to smile a bit when I think back because this must be what it is like for half of the men that I practice with back home. Much love for the sweat. I managed to get stuck on what I can only describe as the meeting point for all the rugs in the practice room. In the shala there is tile floors and so enormous, thin rugs are placed down so that almost the entire floor is covered. For the most part this poses no problem, except in this one spot. It is like laying your mat over chewed up asphalt...maybe that is a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the point. I thought this would consume my entire practice, and so I was shocked when class ended and I realized I hardly thought about it. This, I think, may be progress in taming my obsessive compulsive nature. It could also be that my mind was so focused on the 6! Navasanas, followed by an exceptionally long Chaturanga, capped off with the longest counted Uplutihi ever (in which Sharath stood right in front of my mat...no cheating possible).

This first week of practice has left me a little shell shocked. One of my beloved teachers always talks about "the point." I am not sure what the point is. What am I expecting from all this? Why am I here? What is the point of it all?

Tomorrow we are off to a Tibetan refuge for the night. Hopefully to return with lots of good pictures and interesting stories.

Pictures: Trice drinking her coconut after practice, another decorated cow, and a man ironing clothes in the street. Only in India!

Not Exactly Like Back Home

2010-01-13T04:57:00.000-08:00

On every trip Trice and I have taken abroad, we have gotten massages. Thailand had the best ones to date and were all about working the muscles and joints. Staying in line with tradition we decided to try an Ayurveda massage. Neither one of us knew exactly what to expect, but we just assumed it was like any other massage we have had. Nope. That would be the mistake of the century. Here is how it went.

I went into the room, escorted by two women, and was told to completely undress, underwear included. Red flag number one. The one young woman preceded to tie a small string around my waist and then took a piece of cloth between my legs and secured it with the string. Lying down on the table, for the most part completely naked except for my small shroud, with no sheets in sight. None to cover the bed and none to cover me. Red flag number two. Now, I have been through midwifery school and am not shy or modest, but this was a whole new level of exposure. I closed my eyes and tried to relax. The massage began with a pouring of oil, about the amount in a liter of soda, all over me. I was completely drenched in oil. Then, both women began to vigerously rub. Now for those of you who have never had the experience of a massage in the states, the chest/torso/butt area is usually off limits. Not so much here. All areas were game. This continued for about 30 minutes, with me flipping from from front to back like a little greasy fish. Once that was completed, the finale consisted of being placed in a steam box, where only my head poked out from the top.

This was an experience. Maybe not exactly the one I was looking for, but I am chalking it up to being a medicinal massage with lots of healing properties. That is my best attempted to see the rainbow:)

We took cooking classes today. I am so excited to possibly finally be able to cook something Indian. The food was so tasty and the woman was a joy to learn from. I have posed some pictures of the food that was made.

There is a festival going on this week that celebrates the harvest. In celebration the people paint the cows because they are part of harvesting the fields. I have posted a picture of a very pretty cow with her horns painted green.

I have been noticing that I have been posting far more about non-yoga things. I am not sure why this is. The yoga is why I came here and yet I have shared more about the culture and the "goings-on" than anything. I think I am still absorbing a lot about the yoga. The practice seems so personal at times, a process, that to blog about it would make very little sense to a reader. I am sure that time will reveal more and something worth sharing.

Chanel #5

2010-01-11T22:20:00.000-08:00

Yesterday Trice and I went to the market in the center of town. I wish that I had take a picture to better describe the craziness of an Indian market. I will have to return and snap a few photos. Most of the market, it seemed, consisted of food, bangle bracelets, and vibrant colored sand (at least I think that is what it is). Are we were ambling around Trice happened upon an oil stand. Run by an older gentleman and his grandson, they quickly shuttled Trice and I behind the stand to show us how they roll incense. I was completely take away by his hospitality and desire to swoon us with his oils. After the incense demonstration he intoxicated us with his scented oils. He brought out each crystal bottle, had us close our eyes, and sniff. Ahh. He even had Chanel #5 scent.

As we were nearing the end, and he was bottling up the fragrances that we had purchased (let me tell you he is the best salesman I have ever encountered) he shared with us a little tip on how to use the oil. He took a very small piece of cotton and placed one drop of the oil onto it. As he is explaining how we can use this trick when we are going out to a party to make everyone think we are just smelling divine, he places this little piece of cotton in his ear! He says "you just tuck it right in and no one will know how you smell so wonderful." Now, this is not the funny part. Then he says, after smelling so nice all night long, when you get home you just remove the cotton and squeeze the oil back into the bottle. No waste! I believe Trice and I have just reached a new level of frugal.

I left his booth covered in Hugo Boss on one arm, Georgio Armani on there other, pink lotus on my wrists, and frankincense all over my arms. I am sure that I was a walking odor ball. I could smell myself and it was not pretty. Thank goodness for Dr. Brummers...does laundry and gets off body oil.

Practice went well today. I am still learning all the "goings-on" of the shala. It was very warm today and the sweat was literally dripping off my face. It brought back memories of practicing in the summer at Y2. Sharath came over for my drop backs again, but this time there was no pretending that I couldnt reach my ankles. He grab my hands and placed them on my ankles, and then made me shimmy up a little towards my knees. I am interested in how this is going to continue over the next few weeks. In the past this posture has brought me a lot of pain, but I have been toiling with whether the pain stems from emotions or actual physical limitations.

I have posed a few pictures: Trice rolling incense and some photos of the area. The big gray building is the shala. The white and red building is where our apartment is.

Laundry Day

2010-01-10T21:28:00.000-08:00

We have been here for 3 days, 2 of which have been practice days. As we are traveling on the light side, with minimal luggage, we each only have three days worth of practice clothing. I have volunteered myself for the washing of the laundry duties, as Trice has so nicely brought the computer and I think it only fair. Now, let me state that I hate doing laundry at home...where all that it entails is carrying the clothes down the stairs, placing them in the washer, adding soap, and pressing start. Well, it takes a lot more effort here to do laundry. I have a whole new perspective on the situation. After practice we had a relaxing breakfast and headed home to do the laundry. I cant say that I have any expertise in doing laundry in a bucket. So, I threw all the clothes in the bucket, added water, added Doctor Brummer's soap, and mushed the clothes around. Unsure if this would actually clean the clothes I removed each article of clothing, added more soap and squished some more. I placed everything back in the bucket for a little more mushing and then rinse. This was all fine and dandy, but trying to get all the water out of the clothes in order to hang them was not the highlight of my day. I do not recommend anyone getting rid of their washer anytime soon. This is not a practice I will continue upon returning to the states:)

Practice was mysore style today. I was nervous as Trice and I sat outside the shala practice room, waiting. This is how it works. You wait until Sharath says "one more!" and then you very quickly haul ass into the room, place your mat down so you dont lose the space, run to the locker room, drop your back, and haul ass back to your mat. Much of my anxiety is relieved now that I know the morning drill. Practice was...hot and sweaty....so lovely. I relaxed into the flow of primary series. I am quite content with doing primary series and an greatly enjoying my breath throughout the practice. I did my back bends at the end, and waited for Sharath to come over for drop backs. In my head all I heard was dont grab my ankles on the first day, and so, I came close but did not force it. I feel like the first week is a bit like dipping my toes, then feet, then legs into the water. By next week, I think I will be completely submerged into the practice, the shala, the routine of it all.

Observations

2010-01-10T03:29:00.000-08:00

Today is my first blog from India. While I have been here for 2 days, the lack of an electrical adapter created a situation where only quick and limited computer use was available, with Trice (my cousin) and I alternating 5 minute time slots.

We arrived in India at 2am on Saturday and began our journey with a 3 hour car ride to Mysore. What you ask did I observe from that car ride? Just this:
1. Yes, there are speed bumps randomly planted through the highway...yes, I said highway
2. There are no rules of the road. They are merely suggestions that you can choose to follow when it seems necessary.
3. Cows do not move when you honk at them, which in the end requires a quick swerve to the side to avoid crashing into its back-side
4. Flashing your headlights and honking = I am going to try to pass a huge truck, where there really is no room, and hopefully the other driver will move out of the way.

We arrived, thankfully in one piece, to quite a nice room. In comparison to all past traveling ventures, I would say that we are resting our heads in the lap of luxury. The bucket shower adds to the experience. The town is quite beautiful. It is considered a suburb of Mysore and seems to be on the more affluent side. The architecture of the homes is pretty extraordinary, and I imagine to be grand to live in. I will have to take some pictures and post them.

Registering at the shala was the first order of business. This is quite the process. As the shala is on the more expensive side, especially for India, this entailed that we go to the ATM where we preceded to take out 4000 rupees, in 100 rupee bills, multiple times. Let me paint the picture:
a. Place card in ATM
b. Get huge wad of cash
c. Stuff huge wad of cash into bag
d. Repeat 5 more times
It was quite the scene I am sure. The above picture is Trice counting out all the money to pay the shala...we felt a little rich, even if just for a moment.

We had our first practice today. It was led primary with a very steady and traditional count...just my style:) I was nervous. I was scared. I was excited. It was powerful to take that first practice in the home of Ashtanga. I am still a bit apprehensive and unsure of myself, but I am hoping that will fade over the next few weeks.

I have been thinking a lot about my practice and trying to make connections to why certain things come up on my mat (and even why other things dont come up on my mat). Aches, pains, emotions. I am hoping this experience helps me get a bit more clarity and uncover more of what is going on. In the few weeks leading up to this trip I have had a slight aversion to practice. I am not sure of why or where it is coming from, but it felt really nice to step back on the mat this morning. Maybe this is just the ebb and flow of yoga in one's life.

The other posted picture is Trice feeding the cow her leftover watermelon. The new solution to edible trash.

Food from the Soul. Practice from the Heart.

2009-10-25T12:26:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I spend the afternoon with my dearest, bestest friend. We met at the farmer's market, in the rain storm, to get all the ingredients for a lovely lunch. Wet, chilly, and hungry, Elsa prepared a feast. Her cooking, I have to come figure out, is so good because it is make from the soul. She cooks with such joy, that it pours over into her food. We ate with out fingers (except the lentil soup), talked, laughed, and got to just be content and happy in the moment. Our delicious meal consisted of: blue potatoes, turnip greens, blood carrots (that is a made up name, but we got these blood red carrots only to find they were the regular color orange inside...who knew!) and lentil soup. Yumm...

Practice today was blissful. I am not sure what magic from the cosmos comes together on Sundays to make practice so great, but I am just going with it. A new teacher came today. Noah. I have worked with him before and I find myself fitting in quite well with his teaching style. Simple. Clean. To the Point. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed practicing under his guidance. He directed me on my gaze and some of the subtle points on my practice. I am stunned at how much power the gaze holds. I found great intensity in gazing at the tip of my nose in one pose (yes the eyes do cross...I can only imagine how silly I looked) and in another pose I lost all stability with my chin tucked down to my chest. This will be my practice point for a while...work the gaze. I look forward to continuing over the next two months with him. I am excited to learn and grown. Only four more weeks of my crazy clinical schedule and then I should be back to my practice full time. After suggestion from Noah I think 3rd series is drawning closer. We shall see.

After practice I grabbed a cup of coffee with some friends from the studio. Finally drawing back to the connection. The community. To home. We sipped hot coffee, talked yoga, and laughed about silly things. I took the puppies for a long walk today. It was lovely. The weather is beautiful and this day has been such a pleasure.

A Bruised Face and A Hurt Soul

2009-10-20T15:37:00.001-07:00

I have not had the chance to blog in over a week. This past week I spend 86 hours at clinical...three 24hr shifts and office hours. This, I am promised by my best friend Elsa, is not what my life is going to become. I feel the effects of so much time at the hospital and so little time with myself.

I will start with a birth story and then wallow in my own sorrow:) At 1230 in the morning, after only managing an hour and a half of sleep a woman came in with contractions. This was her 7th baby and while she had only been having contractions for abut 2 hours, she had a history of quick labors and didnt want to have the baby at home. When I checked her, she was 6cm dilated with her bag of water still intact. With no concerning past OB history and a great fetal heart rate, we took her off the monitors and let her walk. Now, with this population of women, my experience that 6cm dilated means delivery within an hour. I thought to myself, "oh, I will get to go back to sleep." Not so on the mark with this one. During active labor my preceptors protocol is to listen intermittently to fetal heart tones every 15 min. The woman would walk, come back in 15 minutes, and then off to walk again. Beautiful...this will fly and she will deliver in no time. After about an hour of walking she asked to be checked and so I did. Still 6. Off to walk again. After about another hour she stated she thought her water broke, as she was leaking fluid. Great! Now things should really get moving. No such luck. I checked her about an hour later and she was still 6. While I was pretty sure that she had been leaking fluid, I also felt there was a forebag (where one layer of the sac breaks, but not the other, making it seem the bag is broken but it is actually still intact). My preceptor had went to sleep for a while, so I decided not to break this bag. The mom decided that she wanted to rest and so I put her on the monitor and let her sleep. My plan...check her at 5:15am and go from there. When the time rolled around, I got my preceptor and we checked her again. She was 7cm and did in fact have a forebag. Good but not great. We broke her water and waited. I stayed with the mom and helped her with her contractions, while my preceptor when to check on another mom who was getting an epidural. As we are waiting the mom states she is feeling more pressure and will I check her. When I do, she is about 9cm but the baby is still pretty high up. I take off my gloves and sit down next to her. All is calm for about 2 contractions, at which point she looks at me and says she is feeling a lot of pressure. Not really great with the whole "call-button" thing, I poke my head out the door room an call for my preceptor...and that is when I hear "Its coming!" I run back into the room, grab sterile gloves and quickly lift the sheet. Yes this baby is coming. Just then my preceptor comes in, and as she is gloving up, the mom pushes and the baby flies out, on a huge gush of water, in to my hands. I am covered in amniotic fluid from the knees down and the elbows down, with a cry infant in my hands. It was amazing. It was beautiful. It was messy. The most interesting part was once we got mom all cleaned up and I got the chance to really look at the baby, we all noticed its whole face was bruised. This baby flew out so quickly that it bruised its entire face! I have never heard of such a thing.

Outside the world of babies and pregnant women, things seem very off kilter. I feel very disconnected to a world that I found myself thriving in. My practice last week was painful. It hurt. Not physical pain, but emotional pain. I miss my yoga community. I feel the disconnect of not practicing everyday. I feel the loss of not seeing my yoga family. Yoga is a like my metronome. It sets my pace for me and keeps me on point. It is my constant. My foundation. My home. I feel on the outside.

After my 24hr on Sunday, I had to run errands for the wedding with my parents and Mark, leaving me with only 3hrs sleep in about 40hrs. Not good. I felt the effects as my alarm went off this morning at 6:15am to go to practice, and I just couldnt. I was too tired. I spend the day fighting off a migraine headache and a bit of an upset stomach to boot. Lovely.

I know I will find my way. This is just temporary. I will find my balance. I will find my strawberry.

Some Maybe Don'ts and Some Definite Dos

2009-10-03T10:40:00.000-07:00

My week in a nutshell.

Maybe Dont...
1. Maybe dont give a woman who is in preterm labor with twins two "top-offs" of epidural medication, and then re-insert a new epidural catheter with even more medication. Outcomes = high spinal with bad side effects including trouble swallowing and difficulty breathing
2. Maybe listen to a woman when she looks you directly in the eye and says "something is wrong"
3. Maybe allowing a woman to VBAC (vaginal birth after c-section) after a poor obstetrical history, including 2 c-sections, 2 vacuum-assisted deliveries, 1 forceps delivery, and one failed forceps delivery, is not the best idea. And lets not forget an estimated fetal weight of 9lbs.
4. Maybe dont diet and loose weight during pregnancy. IUGR (intrauterine growth restricted) babies are no joke.

Definitely Do...
1. Do trust women
2. Do take lower uterine segment pain (with an epidural) seriously
3. Do believe that a first time mom can show up at the hospital 10cm dilated and only push for 20 minutes
4. Do prepare yourself for 4 deliveries in one shift
5. Do know that a 13th time mom (yes, I said 13) can have a quick induction of labor process, even if the last one took 2 days
6. Do trust that I can help to deliver twins!
7. Do learn how to explain things in the most simple, clear, and concise fashion

Yes. My week in a nutshell. It has been a busy one with lots of crazy stories and lots of sleepless nights. I learned a lot this week and found out how much I love normal birth. I had a mom this week, who was new to midwifery care...not new to birth, as she had 6 other children at home...who told my preceptor and I how great midwifery care was. She felt so supported and when she thought she couldnt do it anymore having us there got her through. Awesome. Makes everything worth it.

On another note. My yoga practice is struggling. I have had two 24 hrs shifts in a row, with no time to practice. I miss my yoga community. Period. End of story. Still looking for the strawberry in all this.

Sweet Sweet Practice...Lessons Learned

2009-09-27T12:06:00.001-07:00

Today was my first day back to Yoga Squared since last Sunday. Y2 is my home away from home. It has been my constant in a world full of chaos and disorder. I have been practicing there for almost two years, in the morning, six days a week. This is the first time I have missed a week straight of morning practice. This has caused me great anxiety and sadness. My yoga practice is my center. It grounds me. It teaches me how to deal.

A few weeks ago I blogged about the plateau in my practice. That I had hit a lull and a stillness. Today's practice, however, was completely the opposite. I was thrilled to have my alarm go off this morning, and wasnt even agitated when the parkway was closed and I had to divert around the city. When I arrived I was greeted by just the person I wanted to see, Karen, one of my teachers. Her face has met me at the door so many mornings, but this morning brought such relief. She asked me how I was and I spilled the beans. It was then that she said exactly what I needed to hear. "This is good for you. It is temporary and is just what you need." There was no concern about my dedication to the practice or lack of trying to make it to the studio, all that was there was love. Have I been looking at this all wrong? I have been so disheartened by not making it to the studio. So angry at the disruption in my life. Frustration about my lack of control. Oh, Karen...she knows me too well. There is a lesson here, isnt there? I will learn something from all this. Maybe to let go of what I cannot control. I cannot change my schedule. It is what it is, and I must do what I can do. In those words Karen gave me permission to relax and try to accept where I am. Who knew it was not as tragic as I created it to be. Practice was so so sweet today. Juicy from start to finish.

I realized this morning as I practiced, that it is not just about the physical practice of yoga. When I could not practice this week at the studio, I practiced alone at home, but it is not the same. I felt it deeply today, while on my mat, that I had come in touch with what makes morning practice at Y2 so special and transformative. It is the people. We come together as this collective whole, committed to practicing together. We meld our breath into one. I gather so much energy and strength from my friends and fellow practitioners. When I am low their energy lifts me, and in turn I hope I lift them. Our struggles, on and off the mat, become a group effort. There is a connection that is almost tangible. It sounds so cheesy and corny, and I am sure that the impact does not translate into words, but to sweat, learn, grow, struggle together is immeasurable.

8 Dont Mean A Thing

2009-09-26T09:54:00.001-07:00

I just returned home from my second 24hr shift at the hospital, and I have to say that is went better thank the first; however, this could be due to the fact that (and I say this with love and great sarcasm) God is preventing these women from going into labor till after the holiday on Monday. Thing were somewhat low-key during the day. I got to do my first actual post-partum rounds, as this is something that is not present in home birth. I think I will really enjoy postpartum rounds, especially if I can see patients whose delivery I attended (or perineums I sutured). Because of my experience at HUP as a laborist and the fact that only two of our home birth mamas had lacerations, I rarely got to see how my suturing panned out.

I had one delivery during call. I got my first crash course in the phenomenon of “I have given birth to 8 other children and yet I am still super anxious.” Around 7pm the woman and her husband came in stating that her contractions were 10 minutes apart, but that she wanted to come in for fear she would go fast. She stated that she wanted an epidural because she was exhausted and tired. From the start her worrying and anxiety began to fly off the charts. She wanted to epidural, but was so concerned about potential negative effects for all parties involved. We decided to first check her and find out how far a long she was….8cm. AWESOME (I have to say I really enjoy it when women come in this far a long). We decided that a spinal was probably the best route…quick acting, since she was probably going to progress pretty quickly. The procedure of getting the spinal amplified her anxiety. It was beginning to take on a life of its own. I just wanted to hug her and squeeze all her concerns out. Once we got her settled and comfortable, she happened to mention that she had take a Motrin the other day for a headache. My preceptor asked if that was the only time, and she said yes, but then proceeded to be very upset about the potential effects on the baby from one time use of Motrin after 32wks. My preceptor did an incredible job working to put her at ease. Soon after she began to experience increased pressure and when I checked her the baby was very low, +2, and she was ready to push. We gowned up, quickly thank God, and within two pushes her baby was out. The umbilical cord had a very interesting vessel structure where the two arteries were squiggly and “spiraly.” Very interesting. I am also starting to think that everyone in this population has trailing membranes. Got to love the ring forceps. Her birth was beautiful. Perfect. And no effects from the Motrin on baby:)

I learned a lot with this woman. Just because she has done this before does not mean that she doesnt need support, guidance, and compassion. Take nothing for granted. Be present with women. Loving kindness and 5minutes of explanation can make a world of difference.

I love working with my preceptor, but I am having a hard time connecting with the women. There is such a huge divide between the world that I live in and the world of these patients. In writing that, it seems odd because most of the patients I have worked with through out midwifery school are very different from me. I am not sure what the difference is when working with these women. I have never before felt that I could not connect with my patients. I have always been able to find some common ground from which to meet them on. My ability to talk and put women at ease is something that I am proud of, and is one way I can distract women from the fact that I am a student. I am really having a hard time with this. I already get nervous about my skills and whether or not women will find me to be a competent provider, but I always felt that I could rely on my personal skills. I feel sunk. At a loss for words. I have so much to learn about this culture and belief system, a whole new vocabulary, a whole new everything. For me, midwifery is all about the connection, the bond and the relationship we get to develop with women and their families, and I am sad that I am struggling with this during integration. I am sure, or I am hoping, that this will get better.

A New Language

2009-09-23T11:16:00.000-07:00

Monday was my first day of Integration. My first day with a new preceptor. My first day with a totally unique population of women. For discretion sake, I will not share what population of women I am working with or where I am; however, lets just say that it is like I entered a totally different world, with a whole new set of customs, rules, and beliefs. The first day of clinical is always scary. What will my preceptor be like? Will she agree with the way I do things? Will she think I am an idiot? But this first day was all that plus the deeply seated fear that I would offend the women, not out of meanness, but out of sheer "obliviousness." I know very little about this population, and I could tell they were a bit hesitant to have a student, so combine all this up equals severe anxiety and a headache.

I did office hours first and then headed over to the hospital for a 24hr shift. My first official 24hr shift. The midwifery practice delivers in a small community hospital, that is very different from my huge tertiary-care hospital and home birth experience of last semester. This are "quiet" and not as chaotic, and there are actually a lot of niceties, such as jacuzzi tubs, birth balls and telemetry (so that women can be on the monitor but not tethered to a machine:). When we arrived there were two women in labor, one was only 3cm dilated and the other was about 6cm dilated. The first mom was really uncomfortable and had a platelet level of 103, which is only 3 above the cutoff for an epidural, so she got her epidural and got some rest. The other mom got an epidural as well and then we all just "hung out."

I managed to get in about 45min of sleep in a room down the hall while my preceptor slept in the call-room. When she came and got me she said one of the mom's was ready to push. This birth was observation only, as the mom did not want me to actually deliver her baby. This ended up being ok because her baby was OP (facing sunny-side up...which is really hard to push out a baby in this position). I have never seen a woman push so awesomely (i dont know if that is a real word). She was a champ! But no matter how hard she pushed her baby never really came down. Combine this with the fact that she had ruptured for moderate to thick meconium, we consulted the doc to come and assist with forceps. With just a little help and a small episiotomy mom was able to push baby right out....face up staring at all of us:)

After mom got settled and we checked on our other mom (who was plugging along very nicely despite getting an epidural during the latent phase of labor) we heading back to bed for about 2hrs. I was awoke by my preceptor who told me two more mom's had arrived in labor. Oh my! I think at this point all of the rooms were full! And, it wasnt even a full moon. I got to completely manage one patient who had come in at 8cm. While talking with her, I found out that her favorite birth experience was her one baby that had been born in the car because she was able to move around as she wanted. How awesome is that (and at the same time isnt that sad that the only way she was able to have a birth the was she wanted to was in her car on the way to the hospital) !? I sat with her, rubbed her back, and allowed her to just move and shake as she wanted. Her face absolutely lit up when I suggested a birth ball. She loved it! And so, I caught her baby, with her on hands and knees. She did beautifully! Her baby was big, healthy, and very cute. She cried. I cried. She thanked me. I thanked her.

I was tired. I was exhausted. 24hr shifts are no joke and a long ride home only adds to the fatigue. I am caught at the moment between loving everything and being totally overwhelmed. My yoga practice has suffered greatly and being sick doesnt help anything. I have been thrown a bit off-kilter. I have not yet found myself in this whole semester of Integration. I know it will come, but at the moment I feel a bit lost. Grasping at straws. But I do know, that every birth is worth all the fatigue, tears, anxiety, and fear. It will all come to pass. I must trust that these next two months will work themselves out and that I will not loose myself in the shuffle.

PS. I sent my application to the yoga shala in India today! One step closer to my trip in January.

Limitations

2009-09-18T20:42:00.001-07:00

These past two weeks have been a flurry of activity. Between the engagement, wedding planning (yes I am compulsive and have already began planning), and school starting back for my last and final semester, I have felt very little time to stop and breathe. I feel almost behind in some way. Not caught up. Scattered. I keep a "To Do" list on a bright blue post-it note in my appointment book that just seems to getting longer and not much getting checked off.

I was on my mat the other day, practicing in the corner (which has a very calming effect for some reason) and I began to think. Yes, thinking on the mat...something that I try to get away from. My mind is often a whirl of constant thoughts, concerns, anxieties. While for some people their bodies are their limitations, like their hamstrings are tight or their back hurts, for others it is their minds that present the limitations. I am in the latter of the two. Years of gymnastics have conditioned my bdy to be flexible and strong, and while it has also left me with some injuries that often rear their ugly heads from time to time, it is my mind that gets in the way. I think and over-analyze everything. I am constantly scrutinizing my practice, my asanas, my life in general. As I head into this coming semester with a new preceptor and a new clinical site, I am thinking about all that can go wrong. Not wrong with birth, but wrong with me. What will I forget? What will I mess up? What chapter in Varney’s will I skip over in my brain? I know this is ridiculous. I know deep down inside that I have gained a lot of skills and know how to manage a lot of different situations, but just like on my mat, my mind is my limitation.

In looking back at last semester I am trying to remind myself of the big over-arching things I have learned. Here they are:

1. If you just sit back and watch, birth will happen...especially if you trust it

2. Always, always, always bring a second pair of scrubs to a water birth

3. Never underestimate a 5th time mom with a small baby...they can be a shoulder dystocia

4. 3rd babies are stubborn and love to follow their own path. All bets are off!

5. I do not like to rupture membranes

6. No woman has an estimated blood loss of 150cc

7. Tug-of-war is a great way to get a first-time mom to deliver

8. 4 hours of pushing is exhausting (for the mom too:), but with a little Beyonce is the background to motivate mom it is all good

9. A "test push" can most definitely deliver a baby

10. I love midwifery

Arrested in the Reflecting Pool

2009-09-04T07:31:00.000-07:00

It has been a few days and I had my next post all planned out. I was going to share lessons learned from this past semester of baby catching, but as luck would have it, that was sabotaged. But for god reason.

Mark and I went to DC on Monday. I love DC. There is something about it that stirs my inner patriot. The patriot that fights against the system, changes what needs to be changed, and storms against injustice. It reminds me what I value, choice, freedom, and equality. DC invigorates my deep desire to change the world around me and makes me thankful for all the people that fought for those who had no voice. I love DC.

Mark knows this. He always laughs a little when I stand on my soap box and proclaim the power that DC has over me. My ever present optimism makes him giggle.

We have been planning this trip for a while. I am off for a week from school and Mark has Monday's off. The intention of out trip was to go and photograph the new WWII memorial that is on the Mall. His great grandfather landed on D-Day, and so Mark wanted to put together an album to give to him for his 90th birthday in November. So, we dragged ourselves out of bed at the crack of dawn and headed out. When we got there, we headed straight for the Mall, working our way from the Capitol Building, to the Washington Memorial, then on the the WWII Memorial, Vietnam Memorial, and finally the Lincoln Memorial. As we headed back down the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, Mark mentioned that he wanted to get a picture in front of the reflecting pool. When his grandmother was in the military she was arrested for swimming in the reflecting pool...how awesome! I hate pictures. I always resist when it comes to taking photos. I suggested that I could just take Mark's picture, but he played the "you always say we have no pictures of the two of us" card. I gave up. He found a couple to take the picture and I unwillingly took my spot at the end of the reflecting pool. After on picture, Mark asked the guy to take one more, and that is when he got on his knee! And asked me to marry him! Who knew?! Apparently everyone but me.

The past few days have been a blur of excitement and planning. We wanted to get married next fall, and like the anal retentive person I am, I knew we had to get a place asap. After looking at only two places we found the perfect place for our ceremony and reception! It called the Phoenixville Foundry. It is a refurbished steel foundry, that is the perfect mix of industrial meets modern/elegant. To add to the space, both my grandfather and Mark's great grandfather were both steel mill workers. So, the date is final October 23, 2010. 10-23-10!!

I now have much more to blog about, weddings, babies, India, oh my!

As promised, my next post will be all about babies!

Stagnation or Stillness

2009-08-30T15:45:00.000-07:00

I awoke today in a bit of a frenzy. I turned over to see the clock flashing 7am, and not realizing what day it was, began to panic that I had missed practice. In trying to arise from the fog of sleep, I slowly concluded that today was Sunday and actually still had an hour of sleep ahead of me.

I love Sunday practices. I think they are especially juicy because I get to sleep in and I usually have no where to be during the day. This day in particular I had no work to do, no tests to study for and no house to frantically clean. There is something to being able to "lolly-gag" on the mat and really sink into the practice, loosing track of time. However, this was not the case this morning. I had come to think that this pervading feeling of "stagnation" that I am experiencing recently during my yoga practice would come to fade when the stress and anxiety of school wore off, but as I practiced I felt myself riding along this forever stretching plateau. It is not a lack of enjoyment or excitement, but more of a lull. In the past two years I have moved through primary series and into second series with a steady pace. New poses bringing new challenges and hurdles. However, I am now into month 3 of consistency, sameness, repetition. No new poses and no new challenges, just the same struggles...jumping back, rising out of karandavasana, backward bends. It is as though I am sitting in my own stew, marinating in the difficulty and lack of progress. It is hard and it is frustrating. It is uncomfortable.

I decided, while biking home, that I need to change my perspective. I will now be trying to refer to this period, not of stagnation (because somehow that conjures up flies and stale sewage) but of stillness. Maybe this is where the learning really takes place. Where the understanding and connection grows. Where practice meets theory. It is so easy to get caught up in the bustle of everything, to get dragged by the current, that when the water becomes still it is as if I have forgotten how to swim. Without the pull and push, I am left to do all the work. But I am thinking this is where development and growth happen. In this stillness. There is a strawberry here somewhere. I might just have to sweat it out for a bit.

As this is my last day on call, I have been thinking a lot about this past semester and the 22 babies I have caught. I have written a lot for today, so stay tuned for some thoughts on the whole baby catching business:)

I was talking with a friend today about blogging and said that I felt it could be a bit narcissistic in some ways. Here I am, assuming that I have something interesting to say, when maybe it is all just a bit of chatter. She suggested that blogs can be a great way to share information. So in light of her brilliant suggestion, I think I will try to share one interesting thing when I blog, whether it be an article or a beautiful picture, or maybe just a silly joke. Here is today's. My cousin's wife is an amazing artist and I am deeply moved by her paintings. There is a youthfulness and playfulness to her work, yet at the same time there is so much depth and mystery. I wish I could crawl into her paintings and get lost in the details. Check out her website!

http://web.mac.com/kaetlynwilcox/iWeb/Site/Home.html

Mark and I are off to Washington D.C. tomorrow to explore and enjoy. Pictures to come (once I figure out how to post them...and if we remember the camera:)

Not so eloquent

2009-08-29T13:38:00.000-07:00

I have been wanting to start a blog for some time now, but for whatever reason just never got the gumption to do so. I posed this idea to a few people in the past week and was surprised that no one thought it was silly, so in response to their response I have begun a blog. I am not a great writer or eloquent in anyway with words, but I will try my best.

What you ask is the topic? I have no idea. I do not see a clear or set path, no outcome or goal desired. Simply a place to place my thoughts. I am transitioning into a time of great change, something that I must admit I am not good at. I am heading into my final semester of Midwifery school, actually my final semester of school period. This semester is quite different than the past 20years of schooling that I have participated in. I will be "out there" really working as a student-midwife. I will take on the schedule of a practicing midwife and work with her as she does. There is no class, no exams, no paperwork, and no case studies. Only good old fashion work...catch babies, work in the office, and come home...sometimes. The only exam that I have to worry about is our comprehensives at the end of the semester. This semester is about honing all the skills I have gained over the past 4 years and putting them to use. A scary transition into a role of great responsibility.

I have never not been a student. I went right from high school, to college, to nursing school, and right into midwifery school. The short break 4 month break after nursing school, I did a yoga teacher training program...again still a student. I will always be a student, but come December I will not be a student in the most concrete of terms. This is a huge change.

Once I graduate in December I will be heading off to India to practice yoga in Mysore, India fr two months. I am an Ashtangi, who is completely captivate by the practice of Ashtanga Yoga. From the time I stepped on to the mat to practice this beautiful tradition on January 4th, 2008, I have been taken away by its impact on my life. I am devoted to this practice and am excited to share my journey here.

The relevancy of this blog in the grand scheme of things is probably small and insignificant, but I enjoy so much to read the blogs of friends. There is a sense of connection that, while they may be far away, or I didnt get the chance to talk to them that day, I am still part of their lives. I get to participate, feel what they are feeling, or ponder what they are thinking. I enjoy their words. Maybe someone will meet that enjoyment here.

So, with my first post I shall set the scene as to the choice of my title for the blog..."Finding the strawberry." I was taking a yoga class a few years ago with a great teacher who had a talent for telling stories. She began with the Zen story below:

The Strawberry

There was once a man who was being chased by a ferocious tiger across a field. At the edge of the field there was a cliff. In order to escape the jaws of the tiger, the man caught hold of a vine and swung himself over the edge of the cliff. Dangling down, he saw, to his dismay, there were more tigers on the ground below him! And, furthermore, two little mice were gnawing on the vine to which he clung. He knew that at any moment he would fall to certain death. That's when he noticed a wild strawberry growing on the cliff wall. Clutching the vine with one hand, he plucked the strawberry with the other and put it in his mouth.

He never before realized how sweet a strawberry could taste.

I am not sure this is the exact translation, but it is the heart of the story. Somehow, in reading it there is a loss of emotion and energy that was tangible when it was shared by mouth. "Finding the Strawberry" is a mantra that I have used to help get through the trials and tribulations of nursing and midwifery school, as well as all the major life changes that come with more trips around the sun. While I am sure there are many meanings behind this story, I see it as the constant reminder to find the good and focus on that, instead of all the things that are crumbling down around you. These past few years of school have been hard and the struggle to stay afloat seems to become more and more difficult. But, as my dearest friend Elsa always reminds me, we MUST find the strawberry.

Welcome to my blog. I hope you enjoy your stay!