and somewhere in the kerfuffle of a new job, and our holiday… i completely missed my 3rd non-smoking anniversary.

which, in many ways, gives me even more reason to be pleased. it just reinforces that i never, ever think of cigarettes any more. i’ve now been quit long enough that even being around smokers (like jonno ) doesn’t make me miss smoking.

a few eye-opening statistics:

– quitting before age 35 has added between 6-8 years to my life.

– as a previous pack-a-day smoker, i have saved myself more than £5460

– by staying quit for more than a year, i have cut my risk of heart disease in half.

and all of that is wonderful stuff. but what really scared me as a smoker, was the prospect of developing emphysema. the idea of not being able to breathe, needing oxygen cannula in my nose, dragging around a tank, requiring a scooter to get around, drowning in my own fluid, gasping for air… the thought sent shivers down my spine.

back in february 2005, i wrote about having bronchitis to kim:

every time i get the flu or a bad cold, it turns into bronchitis – these horrible, endless coughing spasms that will not stop, to the point where my eyes and nose are streaming, i can’t breathe or speak, and i sometimes cough so hard i even gag… i was up all night with the horrible coughing jags, waking me up. it’s really distressing – you feel like you’re never going to breathe again, not to mention the embarrassment if it happens in public.

anyway, because i needed a same-day appt., i got the junior doctor, who suggested i wait it out for the next week or two! i suggested an inhaler, and he wasn’t going for it. and I started to get so upset at the thought of suffering along for another few
weeks, that i started crying and basically begged him for one. which did the trick.

i’ll never forget that feeling – the desperation at not being able to breathe, the intense sleep deprivation of not being able to lie down at night, the humiliation at crying in the doctor’s office. and the absolute incredulity that even as miserable and short of breath as i was, i was still smoking.

i was determined that i would never go through that again. unsurprisingly, i’ve not had a single respiratory infection since quitting.

now if i can only persuade my husband.

the juliana hatfield three – addicted

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

this weather is driving me batty!

when i got up this morning, it was sunny and warm – i was wearing a t-shirt and some cropped trousers. getting ready to head to amity’s place, it got cool and started to rain, so i changed to a long sleeve shirt and jeans. i even wore my autumn jacket.

got to amity’s and the sun was out again. by the time i’d walked to her place from the train station, i was boiling.

on the way home, i stopped off at kim and andy’s to drop off a video. sitting out in their back garden, i became truly schizophrenic – when the sun poked through the clouds, i’d take off my jacket. when the clouds thickened and became threatening, i got chilly and put it back on. the clouds blew over with the breezes and i’d take it off again.

it’s the end of july, and the temperature barely cracks 20C (68F) most days. sunshine barely bothers to put in an appearance. the papers are already forecasting the rest of the summer as a total washout, with talk of it cracking the top five wettest on record.

and so, in true british form, we were moaning about the impossible weather.

andy: “chilly and damp nearly every day… when i lived in california, we called this ‘winter’.”

yo la tengo – the summer

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

so this is what my workday schedule used to look like:

6:30 – get up, have leisurely coffee, read email and gently surface into alertness while jonno gets ready
7:00 – kiss j goodbye, hop into shower
8:00 – head out the door
8:30 – arrive at work

4:30 – leave work
5:00 – arrive home, feed cat, check email, relax
6:00 – yoga
7:00 – make dinner
7:30 – eat dinner
8:00 – blog, watch telly
12:00 – bed

my commute was 30 minutes door to door, allowing me sufficient time to both wake up and decompress before and after work

my commute now takes 45 minutes if i catch the fast train, 55 if i get the slow train. you wouldn’t think a few extra minutes would have such a huge effect, but this is what my schedule looks like now:

6:15 – get up, hop into shower (because j and i are now getting ready to leave at the same time, i have to get in and out first thing)
6:30 – make coffee, get ready
7:30 – walk out the door *on the dot*
8:15 – arrive at work, grab breakfast on the way in to sit down at my desk for 8:30

4:45 – walk out the door *on the dot*
4:53 – catch fast train or
5:11 – catch slow train
6:00 – walk in door, feed cat, change into yoga clothes
6:05 – do yoga
7:00 – make dinner
7:30 – eat dinner
8:00 – unwind, check email, maybe blog, finally relax
11:00 – bed

my morning routine feels hectic, and the only way to slow it down would be to wake up earlier. my days are fuller, i’m more tired rushing home, and i feel like i have no time to decompress until much later in the day… but before i know it my evening is almost over, and i am so knackered that i’m heading to bed earlier.

i’m sure i’ll get used to it, but this first full week is kicking my ass.

all of which is by way of say, sorry if blogging is a bit light while i make the shift and absorb the impact.

pavement – rattled by the rush

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

why are first days so incredibly tiring? mentally draining, and physically exhausting.

the people seem very nice. so that is good.

my commute is longer, and more expensive. so that is not so great.

there are a lot of conveniences near my work. so that is good.

i don’t have a desk, and everyone else does. so that’s not so great.

overall, i have a good feeling. so that is good.

and change is always good.

but good god, i’m knackered beyond belief.

Like this post

Unlike

landline phone rings. in the middle of the day (which means it’s not anyone i know). against my better judgement, i answer it.

me: hello?

telemarketer: (sounding rushed, lots of background noise) can i speak to the homeowner?

me: i’m sorry, we rent.

telemarketer: well that’s no good to me, then. **click**

_________________________________

anywhoo, we’re off to istanbul for a long weekend tomorrow, back on monday. people keep asking me if i’m excited – which i guess i am, just in a very low-key way. weirdly, ever since getting back from our trip, i don’t really think i get “excited” about going new places anymore! i mean, i love travelling, and it will be hella cool for sure – i just haven’t really thought too far ahead, and i don’t really know what to expect, so i haven’t gotten all worked up about it.

see you next week!

Like this post

Unlike

eighteen months after i returned to the same unfilled post when we came back from our travels, ten months after i realised it had become insufferable, and six months after i began job searching in earnest…tomorrow is finally, blessedly, my last day at work.

a few months ago, i actually sat down and wrote out all the myriad reasons and examples of why i needed to leave. i shared it with a few close friends and they were shocked. it took up three full pages in times new roman 10pt, and was peppered with phrases like:

i have been increasingly marginalised… i am not supervised in any formal manner… my manager let my contract lapse and i was nearly made redundant…my job is ill-defined… my work load is not planned…my manager takes credit for my work… my manager lies…my manager is chaotic… i often end up feeling that my work is useless, and that my time has been wasted… when i tell people my job title i feel like a fraud…

i’m keeping it as a reminder. never again will i allow myself to suffer so.

the oaks – epilogue, celebration

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

heading off tomorrow afternoon for a weekend music festival. folksy music, camping, friends…

…and of course, it being mid-june in britain, it’s supposed to be damp and chilly all weekend. it’d be depressing if i hadn’t actually predicted it from the beginning! ah well, it’ll still be fun.

my only reservation is that there’s supposed to be fancy dress on the saturday evening. me: i’m not a joiner. and i really can’t see myself pulling together a full costume in addition to the 3 days worth of food and clothes and camping shit i have to organise and drag through a cowfield. you have to wonder about the logic behind that: camping… and costumes?? it’s like, “we’ll have a thousand unshowered drunk people in wellies and tents and portaloos… i *know*, let’s have a costume party!” fancy dress is fun and has its place… on *halloween*. the one day brits don’t dress up. go figure.

call me a party pooper if you like – i’ll be the one without glitter stuck in my hair on sunday morning

see y’all on the other side…

Like this post

Unlike

i’m in full on countdown mode at work, with only 10 days left in the office. i have a bunch of stuff i’m supposed to be doing, but i can’t seem to force myself to buckle down and care – i’ve already given blood, sweat, and tears to this job, and if anyone deserves to coast for the next two weeks, i reckon it’s me.

in the meantime, i feel lighter and lighter with each passing day, which is all the confirmation i really needed that leaving was the right decision. this weight i’ve been carrying around for nearly a year now is finally lifting. it reminds me of that trick from childhood, where you stand in a doorway, pressing your arms against the sides with all your might… but when you finally walk through to the other side and stop pressing, your arms float upward, as if of their own accord.

which leaves only the matter of my leaving “do”. tradition dictates that i invite all my colleagues to an either an afternoon lunch or evening drinks, that there be a present and a goodbye speech. needless to say, i’m not one to be bound by tradition. my pathological boss has been pressuring me about this – she has a compulsion to put on a “good show”, despite the fact that almost everyone knows the reason i’m leaving is because of her insanity… and i suspect she knows this as well. but nevermind.

so i told her i didn’t want to have a lunch or drinks thing – that i didn’t want a lot of attention or fuss, and that since it was *my* last day, i shouldn’t have to be uncomfortable if i don’t want to. i told her that what i was going to do instead was bring in a bunch of cakes and sweets and biscuits for my colleagues and friends to enjoy as my way of saying goodbye. that suits my personality – low key and sugary

so what does she do instead??! sends an email to half of the entire adult services department, inviting them to *bring a dish* and come say goodbye at lunchtime on my last day!! she has completely co-opted my last day to suit *her* needs, and (in her smarmy way) acting as though she’s giving me a big sendoff as well!! instead of my nice low key fairy cakes and chocolate treats afternoon tea, i’m now being forced to host a potluck luncheon.

it just completely underscores everything i’ve ever hated about working under her – that even on what should be a jubilant day of freedom, she would find a way to hold me hostage to her agenda and trap me into something i don’t want.

sigh. 10 days and counting…

bad religion – honest goodbye

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

one of the great joys of life is that no matter how old you get, you’re constantly changing and learning.

except… not so fucking joyful when you change from a previously *non-hayfever sufferer* to a massive hayfever sufferer. and not so joyful when you learn that hayfever feels like someone has stuffed your sinus cavities full of big wads of that pink fiberglass insulation.

oh my god, i’ve never known such misery existed. itchy, painful, congested, drippy, puffy, pressure.

that is all.

Like this post

Unlike

there’s a little coffee shop around the corner from us. actually, there are two.

one is a more posh looking “starbucks” style shop, with minimalist modern furnishings and frosted glass windows, advertising free wi-fi. it’s been open since we’ve moved to this area. i’ve never been in there – mostly because, for a coffee shop, they bizarrely don’t seem to open before 10:00 am.

the other is just across the street from the posh place, and it opened about 6 months after we moved here. it was previously a greasy spoon cafe, which was gutted and re-opened as a mom-and-pop coffee and tea shop. i walked past it every day as it was undergoing the endless renovations, and every day i would see this little old genteel-looking gentleman wearing a fedora and a suitjacket in the shop, sitting having a cup of coffee, going over bluepints. and when it finally opened, it had refashioned itself as an intimate little coffee nook, with a old-fashioned curio cabinet full of pastries and glass stands displaying fresh cakes. it looked cute and cozy – and as always, the little old man with the fedora was there every day, reading the paper, sipping an espresso, or smoking his slim, brown cigarettes.

it looked like the kind of warm, inviting neighbourhood place that you feel good about patronising. and i kept meaning to go in, i really did….yet somehow, i never quite made it.

but i kept walking past it every day. and at first there seemed to be a reasonable trickle of patrons sitting at the little scattered tables, enjoying their lattes and muffins on mismatched china. but after several months, it looked as though the trickle had started to dry up. seeing a customer inside slowly became the exception rather than the rule. a few months later, there was a sandwichboard propped outside the storefront which advertised their homemade soups and made-to-order sandwiches. it didn’t appear to have the desired effect. a few months after that, there was a puzzling new sign for biryanis, chips and curries. they started opening earlier and staying open later.

and yet, the shop stayed empty. except for the little old man in the hat. he was there early. he was there late. he was always there.

and then, a few weeks ago, they installed several computers at one wall. they attached a little paper sign to the sandwichboard advertising their internet cafe services.

upon seeing this, my heart sank. there is more than a hint of desperation to this recent development. the street is already full of grotty internet cafes, kebab shops and curry houses.

and my heart sank because somewhere, deep down, i know that what i am watching is the long, slow, downward spiral of that little old man’s long-cherished dream. that little man, with his careful dress, and his old-fashioned hat, is slowly haemorrhaging to death from a thousand tiny disappointments. for every person that walks past without stopping, his humble goal gets further and further away. it makes my chest ache just to think about it.

and in some strange way, i also feel responsible. as if, because i did not do my part to try to contribute to the success of his homespun business, i am somehow complicit in its failure. i did nothing to support it, therefore by omission, i helped bring it down. i get a twinge of guilt in my gut every time i walk past and see the empty tables accusing me.

empty except, of course, for the little old man and his fedora. it’s probably just my imagination projecting, but his brow seems heavier, his shoulders more stooped. he stands in the door, waiting with anticipation for customers that never arrive.

i’ve still never been in for a cup of coffee.

i doubt i ever will.

death cab for cutie – a movie script ending

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

i’m almost afraid to type this… but i think jonno may have quit smoking again.

i’m afraid to write it, because i don’t want to jinx it. it’s funny – he does it without any fanfare or attention. without even mentioning it, in fact. which means i only noticed yesterday evening that i hadn’t seen him smoke in more than a day. which would make this day 3.

the last time he quit, he stayed quit for 9 months. it was the longest he’d been quit since he started smoking at 12 or 13 years old. he swore he didn’t have any cravings or inclinations. i’d allowed myself to relax and stop being on guard against disappointment. and then i came back from a holiday, and he’d started again. i was gutted, absolutely gutted.

i love him to pieces, and i want so much for him to be healthy. so i’ve got my fingers, toes, and nosehairs crossed that it will stick this time.

after all, it only has to stick once.

nick drake – been smoking too long

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

so i broke down and bought a new mobile phone yesterday.

lots of people love getting a new phone. me? i hate it. i’m no luddite – i actually first bought a mobile phone back in 1994 (not dissimilar to this one), due to some complicated flatmate dynamics which resulted in our landline being turned off for extended periods of time.

i ended up paying for that stupid phone for 2 years… long after i’d stopped using it. expensive lesson learned.

after that, i managed to avoid cell phones for almost 10 years. i simply didn’t need one, didn’t want want – particularly in the u.s., where you are charged for all incoming calls as well.

then i moved here – where cheap phones, extensive “pay as you go” usage, and 10p text messages meant *everyone* had one. and everyone expected you to have one, too.

i was job hunting, and so within a week, i had a very basic, simple mobile phone. it did calls and text messages, and that was all i needed. i still remember the first phone call i received on that phone – i was in the middle of london bridge station, trains and people roaring all around me, trying to have a conversation with a job recruiter who had a thick scottish accent. it would have been comical if it wasn’t so horrible.

and that, in a nutshell, is one of the main reasons i hate mobiles. i hate trying to hear through all the background noise. i hate feeling like everyone is listening to my conversation. i hate people thinking anytime is a good time for a phone call, or that just because i have a mobile i’m constantly available. i hate that people have a knack for trying to call me at the worst possible times (mum always manages to ring when i’m out at the pub!) i hate that if i were to lose my phone, people would have all sorts of personal information about me. i hate that the police (or even ordinary citizens) could track me. i hate fishing around in my bag, madly trying to answer before inevitably missing the call anyway. i hate the intrusion into movies, restaurants, museums, etc.

my biggest gripe, though, is how *disposable* everyone seems to think mobiles are. no longer do you use one until it actually *stops working*. no, no. if you have a contract, you get “upgraded” to a fancier new phone every year – because god forbid you be seen with a passé model of one or two years old! people attach *so much importance* to their flashy status-symbol phones… only to then lose them, drop them in toilets, drop them on sidewalks, spill things on them, etc. millions of discarded phones sit in people’s drawers… until they chuck them. for all the billions of phones out there, the vast majority of them end up in landfills, with the toxic chemicals from batteries and other heavy metals just sitting in the ground.

so, while they are convenient, (and, yes, i know, have saved lives) i hate them, and i’ve done my best to avoid getting caught up in the extensive consumerism that surrounds them. i’m proud to say i’ve not bought a phone in more than 5 years (i’ve been happy to take cast offs from friends and family “upgrades”), and that my total phone usage is generally less than £60/year. jonno has actually managed to go phone-free for over a year now – something i’m not sure i could do (i tend to text my international friends pretty frequently), but find impressive nonetheless. it is annoying when i need to remind him to pick up milk at the shop, but we manage somehow

but yesterday, i had to buy one. and so i walked into a shop, picked the cheapest, most basic model available, and walked out 5 minutes later. came home, swapped in my sim card, and quickly browsed the more advanced menus, and was done.

i will admit, however, my newfound delight in setting my ring tone to the sesame street “yip yip aliens” – i think it summarises how i feel about them quite nicely

Like this post

Unlike

so when we moved into this flat a year and a half ago, we decided to finally get cable – mostly because it came as part of a cheap internet and phone bundle. it was billed as “3 services for £30″.

then, we decided to add on the north american sport network – at that point in time, it was an extra £5/month.

at some point, ntl got bought out by virgin media, but our bill remained the same.

then they changed it so it n.a.s.n. was part of the “setanta sports package”, for £15/mo… but our bill stayed the same.

then in november, i requested an upgrade of our internet service… but our bill remained the same. i assumed the upgrade was never processed.

cut to the other day, when our virgin media bill arrives. imagine my surprise when i see a total of £80.

so i ring up to find out what’s going on, irate at this unexpected bill. the customer service rep says, “oh, we’ve changed our billing, so where before your internet was billed separately, now it’s all on one bill. and in the switchover, we didn’t charge a full month last month, so that’s the additional £20.”

huh? i’ve never paid a separate internet bill.

“oh, it’s been sent to your email account.”

huh? i don’t have a virgin media email, and i’ve only ever paid *one* bill.

“oh it’s been direct debited from the same account as your other bill.”

huh? i check my account and direct debits religiously, and we’ve only ever paid one bill.

“well, it shows here it’s been direct debited separately.”

so… okay, setting that aside for now. why is my internet suddenly £25?

“when your 3-for-£30 package ended after a year, your internet bill was £18. then when you upgraded it, it went up to £25.”

um, okay, but i’ve had this service for 18 months, and never paid a separate internet bill. and i don’t want to pay £25 month for internet.

“oh, let’s see what kind of packages we have available that might suit your needs. we have a package now for £42, which gives you the same 10mb speed internet, the same setanta sports package, more free call minutes, and 100 extra channels. or you could downgrade your current package elements and still pay £50 a month instead of £58.”

i do some mental arithmetic, realise that through some miracle of modern billing systems, we’ve essentially had free internet and sports channels for 6 months, and this package still puts us ahead savings-wise.

sold. damn, that customer service rep is good. not only has she got me paying an extra £12/month, but being happy about it too.

and you know, even with 100 extra channels, there’s *still* nothing on television.

the weakerthans – relative surplus value

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

i finally, officially, have a new job!

this makes me so incredibly happy, i can’t even tell you.

and to celebrate, i’m treating you all to two of my latest poppy, boppy, happy songs.

thao – bag of hammers

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

born ruffians – hummingbird

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

went out drinking with the girls. had a fun night, flirting and chatting with attractive, single guys. drank many, many 2-for-1 cocktails early in the evening. the conversation with the cute (but intellectually challenged) guys is lubricated through vast quantities of fruit-flavoured alcohol.

but 6 hours later, it starts getting kinda late. at a certain point, you start thinking, “i’m tired of drinking… yet if i sober up any more, this will be really boring.”

then someone mentions a foam party.

your mate (age 27) says “yeah!! let’s go!”.

you (age 35) think, “eh, it’ll ruin my new suede shoes.”

home, james.

Like this post

Unlike

what makes us happy?

i’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. there have been a spate of books out recently on this topic, none of which i’ve read. i suppose i prefer to think that one of the beauties of the universe is that the answer to the question is unique to each of us, and can’t be captured in a self-help book. and as we are ever-changing creatures, our answer also changes – happiness is not a state of being which can be captured and frozen.

still for me, one of the things i’ve learned about myself and my own search for that elusive goal, is that i far more often regret those things which i did not do, than those things which i have done. yes, i’ve often made mistakes… but those things which cause me to lie awake wrestling with a knot of doubt in the middle of the night, those things i most wish i had the chance to do over, are the paths i didn’t take and the opportunities i let pass me by because of indecision or fear.

i rarely say, “i wish i hadn’t…” and instead find myself thinking, “i wish i had…”

for the past few months, my current employment status has caused me no small amount of misery and drama. i’ve been so desperately *unhappy* for so long. and so i’ve been searching for a way to change my circumstances and create my own opportunities. i’ve done so with a heavy heart – because really, if not for the ineptitude of my manager, i would really enjoy my work.

but life is far too short to spend 8 hours a day being unhappy.

and as fate would have it, two improbable situations have presented themselves to me this week: one, a lateral job opportunity where i could leave my current employer and start something new (allowing me to get back into management, with a boss who really seems to want to hire me badly, but not a strategic role); and two, a strong indication from my current employer that if i can be patient through the summer, that there may be the opportunity for a new role for me (a strategic role and a promotion, but no guarantees).

one is my current escape route – the bird in the hand. the other could potentially be my ideal job, but isn’t a certainty – the two in the bush.

so how does one decide? i’ve been going back and forth over this, agonising over it really, for more than two weeks now. with my happiness at stake, it seems like such an important crossroads. do i take the sure thing, or hold out for something which may never materialise? do i take the job that has made it clear they want me, or the one where my value has so often gone unnoticed, but may soon be rewarded? change now, or sit tight? which would make me happier, in the long run? can you put a monetary value on happiness? can security make you happy?

i have to figure it all out, very soon.

and while i haven’t decided for sure, i can only wonder if i wouldn’t more regret *not* taking on the new challenge – if it would become one of those opportunities i find myself reflecting back on later, thinking, “i wish i had…”

so what makes us happy? what makes me happy? i’m still not sure. i only know that when i find something that does, it’s well worth whatever hard decisions it took to get there.

in an entirely different vein, this made me pretty happy this evening: i managed to achieve (if only for a brief second or two) this pose

and for jonno: the arrival (finally!!) of his new electric guitar seems to have made him pretty happy.

the acorn – do you not yearn, at all?

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

i love this time of year, and in particular, i love our flat at this time of year. our flat is full of big wide windows, and with both southeast and northwest exposure, i find myself becoming attuned to the different qualities of the light with the different seasons. and so i love this brief late spring/early summer dalliance, when i naturally awaken with the hazy morning sun, and the bedroom is just slightly cooled from the night air which crept in through the open window while i slept, yet i’m still warm under crisp sheets and a light duvet. and waking up that few minutes early in the morning, being *awake* rather than hitting the snooze button another time, means i have enough time to enjoy my cup of coffee, step out onto the balcony and watch the light change as it comes up over the far hill.

and when i get home, i can open the windows to let the and do some yoga in the afternoon glow, take a shower flooded in natural light, then cook dinner while looking out over the reddening rooftops. i can eat supper watching the sunset from one window, and the moonrise from the other.

it’s really the best part of living here, and even if the rest of the summer turns out to be another sodden, grey mess… i’ve had this week of glorious light.

the kinks – waterloo sunset

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

i keep sitting down to write this week, starting a sentence… and then finding it trailing off. my writing mojo seems to be wandering the proverbial desert at the moment.

lethargy verging on inertia. i blame the sun – such an unusual sight around these parts that the dazzling rays seem to have addled my brain. a whole glorious week’s worth of stunning.

another holding pattern going on behind the scenes as well – waiting. maybe news soon, maybe not.

in the meantime, i leave you with this song… which has nothing to do with anything except that it’s pretty much just a thing of beauty to listen to while lying on the couch with the windows open, light flooding in, and sweet breezes tickling your bare feet.

go on. i dare ya.

eric lindell – lay back down

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

there’s been both a lot, and yet nothing happening this week. i’m in a bit of limbo at the moment, so i’ve felt the need for some quietude.

but i woke up today to the first truly warm sunrise of the coming summer, and this breathtaking show of early morning jewels, balanced perfectly to dance in the light.

it felt like a sign. of what, i’m not yet sure – but i’ll let you know as soon as i do.

From dewy dreams, my soul, arise,
From love’s deep slumber and from death,
For lo! the trees are full of sighs
Whose leaves the morn admonisheth.

While sweetly, gently, secretly,
The flowery bells of morn are stirred
And the wise choirs of faery
Begin (innumerous!) to be heard.

“from dewy dreams” – james joyce

tommy james & the shondells – crystal blue persuasion

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

came home from work.

did some yoga.

took a hot shower.

changed into sweats.

ate a baked potato the size of my head.

oooh yeah, baby! that’s my blissfully relaxing friday night, at the beginning of a long weekend.

and i don’t even care how lame it makes me.

Like this post

Unlike

calming, gentle, steady, contemplative, consistent, quiet – none of these are words that anyone would use to describe me or my personality.

but these are all essential elements to the practice of yoga.

surprisingly enough, this whim seems to be sticking around – i’ve been working on this consistently 4-5 times a week for a month now. no, i don’t do the chanting. no, i don’t do the relaxation poses. no i don’t understand what they mean about “feeling the life force channel through you, grounding your energy.” no, i don’t care for all the bongo and flute music.

but something keeps drawing me back to it, day after day, to these funky poses, with their funny sanskrit and english names. (and it’s not just because i can do it in my pyjamas!) there’s something about the building process that appeals to me – being able to feel my balance and strength improve, flowing more smoothly between one pose and the next. i’m actively learning, and it taps into something that my running regimen lacks.

there’s not much learning to running – it’s all about just doing more of the same. sure, you can do fancy stuff like high intensity interval training, or hill work, or split times, or improve your vo2 max. but really, once you can put one foot in front of the other, you’ve mastered the basics. which is probably why i like it so much – my natural stubbornness is actually a plus, and no grace or co-ordination is needed.

i guess i always thought that grace and co-ordination were things you were either born with, or you weren’t. i’ve always wanted to be someone graceful and co-ordinated, but never thought it was possible. and instead, yoga is teaching me that these are things which can be acquired by anyone, with enough practice – and practice is something i’m very good at.

and while yoga may not make me sweat as hard as a good run does, it’s far from easy. for something as touchy-feely as it might outwardly seem, it’s surprisingly strenuous. all those yogis don’t have ropy, sinewy bodies for nothing! but i find that getting it right feels *so good*. balancing a tree pose with chest open, knee back, hips squared, spine straight, shoulders relaxed, feels good. stretching out fully into a wheel feels good. getting into a headstand for the first time since i was twelve feels good. i feel taller. i find myself walking around with better posture. and in the short space of just a few weeks, i am much more limber. i’m less creaky.

i started out desparing at how old i felt, and now i’m finding myself somewhat amazed with what i can actually do, given enough practice.

i’ll be tying myself in knots in no time

dashboard confessional – bend and not break

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike