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Practice, practice, practice

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      Just finished my favorite home made treat, a fresh dry foam cappa-latte. As anyone who has accompanied me to a coffee establishment once we are real friends knows, I have a certain and non-traditional way of taking my espresso draught. First, the shots must be drawn from freshly ground organic, free trade, unburnt dark roast beans and produce a respectable crema, then I like my foam dry and abundant with just the slightest lightening of the delicious black sea beneath it. Hard to get todays barristas, conditioned as they are to the Starbucks style coffee creations, to execute my requests. Especially when you add to that, my desire for Organic soymilk as the foaming medium. At home I am able to pull it off almost effortlessly. 

     Why? Because I have lots of practice. The barristas do well at what they know. I don’t want a fast food coffee, or its equivalent life. The universe is offering this wisdom. "Enough practice makes anything do-able, and nothing is what we expect, so expect nothing."

     That is my object koan this morning, as I stretch my sore hands by rolling my oranges for juice and stand on toes while stamping my grounds to brew the perfect cuppa. It is unexpected that the sorest parts of my body today are my hands and feet and calves. Last night when I was trying, barely successfully, to pull myself into my DIL’s lifted jeep and laughing to keep from bursting into frustrated tears at my ineptness, I was sure it would be my quad’s that would give me trouble. Last night they were fatigue trembly. Today, nary an ache, okay maybe just a little tenderness near the knee.

 
      I walked 5K and swam four laps(200 yds) with my splashboard, did 10 pushoffs and backstroked back from each pushoff (about 10 yds each). And this was after my third shift. I went to bed about 2230 and I was up this morning, needless to say, much past the morning cool, so no dog walk till tonight. Plan to go back and swim again tomorrow morning. Tonight at sundown, my canines and I will have a nice stroll, maybe break into a trot if Dr. Vogel gives the go ahead.
 
     Back to the lesson, the koan of practice versus immediate achievement and its sister nonattachment to expectation. 
 
      The need for practice without expectation was what I most noticed about last night. My son, even with only one good leg, made the lengths of the pool look so easy as his arms sliced throught the water, and my DIL is more an otter than she gives herself credit. My first instinct was to compare and compete, not to listen and admire, as they both offered much needed and good advice on how to improve my performance. I actively chose to listen, although even with this came frustration as the muscles and body refused to carry out the brains planned commands.
               "Compared to them," the Ego whispered in my head, "I am old, fat and weak. This is stupid and impossible, and what’s with your children telling YOU how to do something, I’m the Mom, and it’s not like they listen to me anyway!"
              "First, this is your idea, they are joining you in something important to you, you asked them to support you, " my Authentic Self replied, "and they are better at this than you.  However, this activity is about progress and fun, not competition, and when comparing myself to myself, I see improvement in less than a week, So instead of feeling inadequate, ego, or resentful I am just grateful for the inspiring company and I am going to continue to listen, and continue to practice and focus on a great way this is to spend time with people I love."  My Authentic self is long winded.

Then the ego and The Authentic Self both had to shut up because all energy was focused on completing the last lap. In that way, swimming is like meditation for me. The conversation in my head has to shut up!
             

FYI. The two day break in blogging will be my weekly norm, as long as I am on this work schedule. I love my job and the family that I work for, and they get first dibs on my weekend energies. I will be back later to finish the log, as I am just beginning my day.
 
Borin’ Log Part for Monday
 
0830 Wake Up and let dogs out. Meditation on Gratitude from Meditation Oasis
0900 Computer and Coffee (double shot espresso, 1 cup Organic Soymilk, 1 T local honey)
0930 8 ozs fresh squeezed OJ, multivitamin, 81 mg aspirin
1000 phonecalls, dustmopping floor (movement, not exercise, LOL), random picking up and put in a load of laundry
1200 Lunch of Progresso Vegetable Soup and a toasted cheese sandwich, Off to pick up meds, also Dr. apt.
1500 Best part of today – my apt at Back-Fit so I can become better adjusted…(massage and chiro)
1700 Visit Sara, receive way awesomest B-day present EVER! (Very early but I wouldn’t have been able to wait either!)
            Ate one apple
1900 Walked dog. Only 0.5 miles tonight. Really feeling drained of energy and achy tonite. Made plate of organic black beans, guacamole, cheese, and organic corn and flax chips with organic salsa. Drank water
2000 Watched 2 episodes of 60’s comedy (they last 26-28 minutes compared to a modern 20-22 minute episode)
2100 Cleaned house haphazardly. Stretches and then to bed!
 
Over all a kinda non-training day again except for the little things like parking on the far end of the lot at all my appointments and not succumbing to junk food or snack attacks. I really want a pedometer to be able to measure my walking, etc. I have to work my training into my life so keeping track of steps taken would be something
2200 Sleep.  
 
 
 
Blog

Day after..

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 Day two of any new relationship is always the interesting day. Morning after is that place where reality shears off from rosy dreams and commitments can become more solid or begin evaporating like the small ring of dark beer at the bottom of a glass. 

My day two of my date with destiny was complicated by it being a work day. I love my job but the hours are not conducive to me doing more than meditating, working, driving and sleeping. It was also a payday, so I got to start the day off trying to find where I am going to squeeze out not just the $1000 for chiropractic treatments and massage, but $200 for my trainer and another $400 for shoes, bike with training wheels (have I mentioned before I do not know how to ride a bike?)  Now I can add to the voices in my head telling me I am too fat and old to even consider this, another voice telling me I can’t afford it.

Well here is the facts little voice, I am not too old, not to anything. And I am going to make this work. I am going to do that triathlon and I am going to continue to take what ever measures are available to me to be healthier and pain free. 
 
Speaking of pain free, thanks to the treatments at Backfit I have taken no Tylenol in the last 24 hours,  I did an entire shift with my patients without pain. Well, I am actually having some discomfort. The calves of my legs and my upper arms are all saying, "Hey, we had some unfamiliar exercise yesterday!" But none of that burning, tingling back and leg pain and no throbbing headeache, this is the good kind of building more muscle kind of ache.
 
Need to sleep soon cause I am taking the dogs early in the morning for a walk/jog, just their usual, nothing special. I have to save up energy for two more shifts. Then Sunday night I will be walking 5K and doing my swimming homework.
 
So what did I do different today, to show I am still in this relationship? I didn’t eat when I got home. I come in the door about 2000, and customarily do some inappropriate carb loading, tonight I am Sipping some herb tea only.
 
So here is the boring log:
0430 Guided Meditation from the Meditation Podcast "Positive Thoughts"; back stretches
0500 Budget time and bill paying
0530 Coffee with honey and organic half and half, (forgot to measure) and 6 oz fresh squeezed grapefruit juice
          Make lunch for work
          Putz around and play with dogs, do meds for them and food and water
0630 Fruit smoothie from 8 oz frozen mixed berries, 1 scoop vegan soy powder, 8 oz water
          Get ready for work
0715 Leave for work
0800 Arrive work.
1030 Neck stretches. Organic Peanut Butter (2T), Power Ranch Farmers Market Strawberry Rhubard preserves (2T) on two pieces Sara Lee                         45 calorie Whole Grain Delight
1230 2 cups raw zucchini, cabbage mix with tomato, pepitas (2 T), dried cranberries (1T) dressed with Bragg’s Amino acids, olive oil and                  cider vinegar.
1430 Mrs Mays blueberry pomegranate bar
1630 Organic Vegan Brown Rice Crispie treat
1830 Vegan bologna, slice cheddar on 2 pieces Sara Lee 45 Calorie Whole Grain Delight.
1900 Off work
2000 Finally home Drinking herb tea. Blogging
2100 Asleep.
 
This probably has need of editing but too tired to try.
 
 
 
Blog

The unexpected stretch

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This blog is itself a stretch. It is unlike any other blog I have ever kept, or any other public writing (both personal or professional) I have ever done.

 
 For a while here this blog will host little poetry and few reviews. This blog will be about about stretching. Not about the Yoga stretching I have done all my life. (I think sometimes I keep doing it just cause my ego loves watching people’s reaction when an mature woman of my size can completely touch her toes). Nor  will it be about the stretching after a workout to keep muscles from tightening and tearing, although both of those stretches will be involved. Today’s blog is about stretching my "self", that thing below the ego self that has always embraced the easy ways, and only chosen to continue the things at which I was good. It is about pushing aside the self that avoided embarrassment and possible failure, and secretly still fears being ridiculed, and stretching the real "me" that loves to move, and run, and dance and play. 
 
This blog, and I don’t know how many in the future, are about identifying and publicly displaying the one area with which I am least comfortable. I will talk honestly about my experiments in the one skill set that has caused me the most embarrassment while I develop the one talent package I was least gifted with at birth. 
 
Today I am a 234 pound woman, over the age of 50 (no I am still not telling my age, over 50 is enough information and accurate info is hard to come by ;)), who is coordination challenged, barely makes ends wave, let alone meet, with a medical Sword of Damocles hanging over her head, and so today, I started training as a triathlete.
 
Yea, makes me wonder if I am crazy, too.

When I was growing up there were two kinds of people, athletes and non-athletes; those who got chosen for teams, and those like me who were only chosen to help people on those teams pass academic tests so they could play on those teams. My nicknames were "Claudia Klutz and Lydia Lump Lump", and those were the kind ones from my own family. The names called me by children had a lot to do with mispronunciation of my name and the fact that my center of gravity is large and located to the rear.  In a protective reaction I internally dubbed all sports stupid (except baseball but that is a whole different blog) and all sports participants my mental inferior.  I was just "too smart" to be part of that whole sweaty Jock jive through my teens and twenties. Then as my peer group moved from football and cheer-leading to Aerobics, Gyms and Spin class I was "too enlightened" to ever participate in the perfect body competitions. 

 
I will add that I was not a couch potato. In my late teens when I joined the millitary, women were just crossing the gender lines and I was the first woman to graduate as a Machinist Mate 3rd Class (Honor Graduate, of course). My military service did require me to pass PT tests and I lifted weights with some Marines so I could open, close, dismantle and repack some might large valves. I also swam (without any lessons or form) enough to pass the requirements, learned to jump out of planes (with a parachute), hiked with full pack, etc. I was never the best, in fact often the third or fourth worst in my unit, but since I was smart and not "the" worst, I survived without much harassment. I also will admit I liked the feeling of running, swimming, etc. But I never did it where someone could see, and probably laugh. 
 
Before the military I also took some dance and some fencing classes, all related to stage work I was doing. In these I was also never "good", but not the worst. Mostly not noticed, and I would do just the amount I needed to do to get the part, the certificate, the whatever…but most of the time I was mostly focused on not looking to stupid or klutzy, and after most of these classes I would go home and throw up from the stress and the strain.
 
I have always done yoga but as part of my private meditation practice. Again, I love yoga, just like I love swimming and running, but I do it poorly. I have been so embarrassed when I have attended a class, I have always dropped out of them after a few weeks.
 
No dropping out this time. That is part of keeping this blog. Knowing the enemy is a critical part of any campaign, and where sports are concerned, I am my own worst enemy. Telling others my commitment is what kept me "at it" to complete the 5K. And that was a lot less public,
 
I will complete a triathalon. I will face my fear of looking foolish, and stretch that authentic me that hides behind my gigantic joking ego, and most likely have a lot of fun and get some good stories doing it while also improving my odds of dodging that sword when it falls again.
 
I am not at all sure what directions this blog will take, but for now it is not about poetry or reviews. Unless mentioning that I found my awesome new trainer at Back-Fit is considered a review. If it is, then consider this a rave review of Back-Fit.  Through massage, exercise and adjustments my constant neck and back pain (and co- fatigue) has been brought down to intermittent bouts of discomfort and aha moments of "Wow, I was really in that much pain?" thanks to my care at Back-fit. Also thanks to going there I found a trainer willing to take this slow, fat non-athlete who has never had a swimming lesson, never ridden a bike and has never run more than a 5K and coach her into a (probably still slow and fat, but thinner and faster) tri-athlete. I am also very excited and honored to be joined in this adventure by my already much thinner and faster daughter-in-law. My goal first race is http://www.active.com/triathlon/mesa-az/the-city-of-mesa-iron-gear-sports-h…, the mini of course
 
Things to do…get goggles, kickboard, practice, practice, practice….
 
So here is the boring log part of my blog, a daily record of how I use my time, what I eat, what training I do, which some days may be all I got, but today is just the end tag of a whole lot of talking and refelecting.
 
Rose:0430
Meditate: 30 Minutes with Meditation Oasis podcast "Peace"
Breakfast: 0515  
                      12 oz brewed organic coffee
                      1 T local mesquite honey
                       2 T Organic Half and Half
                       1 package Kirkland Cinnamon Roll flavored Organic Instant Oatmeal
                        8 ozs Freshly squeezed grapefruit juice
                         1 multivitamin
                          81 mg aspirin
 
Training: 10 push-offs side of pool
                    4 laps
 
Lunch: 0930
              1 Pumpkin Waffle
               2 eggs fried.
               32 ozs lemon water
 
I.75 hours at computer

Out to run errands. Driving, Parked away from places we needed to go into (partly for shade, partly for exercise) so some walking. 32 more ounces of water. 32 ounces of unsweetened Green Tea.
Chiropractic appointment and some stretching for back and neck PT

Dinner with friends at Sweet Tomatoes. HUGE freakin’ amount of raw veggies with a few caramelized walnuts, some sunflower seeds, 1 scoop of the Strawberry vinaigrette, 1 scoop of the Fat Free Ranch, a small sweet potato, one strawberry muffin, small portion of sugar-free strawberry mousse, strawberry lemonade to drink with LOTS of ice to let it water down (too sweet but tasty) and one warm chocolate chip cookie. Waaaaaay to many simple carbs in the dinner but good vitamins and fiber but YUM! Also quite sure I exceeded my days calories. Still I feel good about today.

Home at 1930. Dog care (teeth, ears, meds, water, food; too late for a walk tonight)
 
I have checked to see that I have a uniform ready. Time to do my  bedtime yoga and meditate again, then back stretches and into bed. Asleep by 2030.
 
 
Poems

Wheels Turning….

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“Half my friends are dead.
I will make you new ones, said earth.
No, give them back, as they were, instead,
with faults and all, I cried”

excerpted from “Sea Canes” by Derek Walcott

Stone Silence

Sometimes words fail me.
it is not the silence of meditation, where I except myself from making sense
or naming
the restlessness of leaves
or the turning tires on pavement,
cars plummeting their captives from one nonplace to another
drip, drip, drip of neighbors untended eaves.
I am absent in that silence and will return from it
like mornings and spring
warm again and green.
Sometimes words fail me
Cold and hard painful presence of me again, and then
most maddening
Still me.
This silence has no womblike darkness that promises dawns light
but is an endless twilight silence
perched alone on the edge of night.
CC
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In search of his one true love…

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Hummingbird Moth

 In search of his one true love he quested last night.

To begin life again has its own physics, 
but his, his was the kinetics of generations of destiny.

The moth need not overcome the inertia of its own distracted life
but beats and thrums incessantly.
Maniacally its wings "rat-a-tat-tat"against the clear light cover
storming the glass, battering the obstacle twixt it and the heat it seeks.

He threw himself again and again

leaving grey and brown dust marks where others luckier than him had found the secret entrance in;
he could not tear himself away from the beckoning siren light
and fly a few hundred feet instead to where the female waited
wings flat and still like a collector’s pinned specimen
pheromones spreading their welcome
just beyond domestic sight.
 
At last his Achemon god said yes to the drumming of his plea
up over the glowing globe he mounted and into his one true love he came
Pfft, and thump were the inglorious end to his hummingbird like flight
and now he is still but for the toss and catch in an orange feral cat’s game.
 
 
Blog

April is National Poetry Month in the USA

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 I had many dreams as a child; two most persistent were to be a nurse and to be a great poet.

 
I remember when we got our families first TV, 
I had learned by then that writing poems
and Ivy halls of learning were not meant for little girls like me
but I still preferred books, 
although when I was sick at home,
 I loved the gameshow Jeopardy
 
Once I was paid for my pens production
enough money came in for the words going out to almost feed my family.
I once horrified a television audience when the interviewer asked what I wrote
and I laughed and said I was kind of a print whore, that I would write whatever someone would pay for
and i was paid for what I wrote
even a few times for poetry
and I wasn’t changing the world, the world was changing me.
 
But I am a nurse now, 
Poetic inclinations my private peccadillo.
I sip on Emerson, or Pastan with morning coffee.
Twice traversed Walcott’s Omerus all alone
I nestle in with Frost, Dove or Emily when the comfort of familiar is my need
 
and I still love Jeopardy.

Answer:W.S. Merwin, Kay Ryan, Charles Simic, Donald Hall, Ted Kooser

Question? 
Who are the last five Poet Laureate’s of the United States of America.

 
I knew the answer. And laughed embarrassed that I knew.
Robert Frost was my nursery food, born though I was to Randall Jarrell, I did not read at all until I was three
So learned not of Dying Gods till middle school libraries.
But nurses are a practical lot.
 
I am a nurse now
and I am afraid
My life is not made up of  tortured turns at love that lead to Simic style reverie
And all my pens are trained to report the facts, and only the facts of what I hear and smell and see
on black ink legal records.
My pens rebel, refusing to scratch out a dozen words to symbolize the desert spring.
 
My hands change beds
Clean bodies
Take vital signs
Hold other too hot or too cool hands
Give medicines
and hope 
and caring
My heart listens to regrets and plans.
 
I once desired to write with art
and move others as the greats moved me
But chose instead to serve with deeds not words
And hope now my hands and heart  will substitute for never having made
one verse of worthwhile poetry.
 
Blog

“I’d like to get away from earth awhile..”

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 "I’d like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth’s the right place for love:
I don’t know where it’s likely to go better."

Robert Frost from his poem Birches

I visited a Border’s store in Chandler today. It closes its doors forever Sunday. Everything must go, every book, every CD, every employee; even the fixtures are for sale. 

 
The liquidators were in the process of marking somethings down to 85% off when I arrived. Now I am a frugal person who gets a charge akin to drug use from an outstanding bargain, But there was no rush of anything but sadness as I walked around the barren skeleton and touched the almost empty fixtures and the "priced to move"books seeing only liquidators and no familiar Borders employees except the gentleman behind the register. Almost everything was gone. 
 
I wanted to come when I first heard the news. I value loyalty, and this store and I had history. It was in this store a decade ago as I struggled to shift career gears from what I had been to what I had always dreamed of being that I met most of my current best  friends. I worked first as a bookseller and then as a barrista while attending Nursing prereq classes. 
 
As I said, I met many of my current close friends here. One of them was sort of my supervisor, four of them were a family that came to play in my game night, and one was my frequent cafe customer. I made a lot of friends at Borders, some stayed close, some drifted. 
 
I have bought my children and their wives and their friends Christmas presents and birthday presents from this store. I have followed the birth and growth of Ron’s grandchildren, Have listened to Miss Marty charm countless a decade worth of story time listeners.  I brought my son Rick to the store to buy his first programming books in 2001 and to show him off when he returned from his  Kerouac adventure; and it was here I would bring my son Dallon for coffee and another Stephen King when he would come home on military leave, and it was to this Borders I took Nam and his wife and my two granddaughters the last time I would ever see him alive. Miss Marty helped me find them the perfect books for their flight back home. For ten years this Borders was my "Cheers". I knew them. They knew me. And Borders got my business.
 
The company underwent leadership changes about the same time I underwent some conscience changes. About a year ago I moved walking distance from a local bookstore in Tempe and although I still loved the people at Borders,  I started shopping local and giving my book business to Changing Hands.  
 
 
 Today walking through this closing store it wasn’t as if I was just dealing with my sadness that good people I care about are without a job, or that now the Evil Empire is one step closer to having a monopoly on the book sales market. It was more. This store and I have history. It’s shiny empty shelves for sale at rock bottom prices seemed to mirror back and mock me with all my turn of the century optimism about love, financial abundance and happily ever after. Suddenly I wanted to cry for all of it. The closing of this Chandler Borders was symbolic of hope derailed and I saw not only the faces of my failed marriage and my lost son, but the news pictures from Japan and Libya and the hundreds of "short sale" signs in front of houses I pass on my way to work every day, and, and and…..the ands kept coming and my soul cowed down.
 
Then I remembered these lines from a Robert Frost poem..Robert.Frost and Mary Oliver and Linda Pastan all kinda hang out in my head, thanks to books and thanks to bookstores like this Borders once was and I am sorry that one of the places I used to go to "get away from earth awhile" is no longer a valid escape route.
 
I said my good-byes to Border’s, to Awhatukee and to that other life I once imagined and Amie bought me Gummie Yoshi’s that made me laugh and now I am home and ready to sleep and remember how to dream again.
Blog

Sometimes just getting up is proof we still believe…

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               Tides wash out, retreat
               Removing treasures with the trash
               Polishing  history
               Making magical these broken bits of glass
               And relieving castle fantasy
              That we, or anything, lasts.

Schrodinger's cat lives, magic is science, and compassion and integrity are the only necessary ingredients for happiness.