Category Archives: Writing

If you really knew me: a list of 31 things

If you really knew me, you would know that:

I struggle with trusting myself, caring for and loving myself, and I have a bad habit of trying to please and take care of everyone else even if it means I am being hurt or suffering.

I act tough but I am incredibly sensitive.

I seem like an extrovert but am really an introvert who’s curious, who wants approval and appreciation.

I suffer from poverty mentality, don’t think I am enough or believe there will be enough for me.

I have all of these surface level issues, blockages that cause me so much suffering, but underneath, I am wise and compassionate and powerful.

I love big, a love that is unbound, a love that breaks my heart wide open.

I hold a grudge, am judgmental and critical, but I would never hurt anyone intentionally.

I’m glad that dogs can’t talk because if they could, I might find out they don’t love me as much as I think they do, and I couldn’t bear that.

I am obsessed with anything about the Holocaust, went to Amsterdam just to be able to see the Anne Frank House.

I can’t swim very well because I am afraid of drowning, which makes me tense up and start to sink.

I have dreams about being able to fly fight like in The Matrix or Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.

The only “make-up” I wear is moisturizer and Strawberry Chapstick.

I prefer flip-flops, clogs, or boots to heels or sandals, but I’d rather not wear shoes at all.

I like doing laundry.

Lilacs are my favorite flowers.

I couldn’t live without music—well, I could, but I wouldn’t be as happy.

This is my second marriage.

My two favorite and most read authors are Stephen King and Margaret Atwood, and my favorite poet is Mary Oliver.

I was in theater and two different choirs in high school. I miss it.

I dream about learning to play the ukulele I already own and taking singing lessons so that someday I can be in a band.

I have two tattoos.

I want to be in a flash mob.

I lived in the same house for the first 18 years of my life, and the house I live in now, have for 12 years, has the exact same floor plan and was built around the same time.

I was scared of the dark and being alone until I was 31 years old, the same year I got my first dog.

Letting go of that dog, my Obi, was the most difficult and most loving thing I have ever done.

I prefer mending and keeping old things over buying new ones.

I have two places I consider “home.”

My favorite pastry is a maple bar (unfilled), my favorite ice cream is maple nut, and I love any breakfast eaten with maple syrup.

I would almost always choose staying home in my pajamas and reading a good book over dressing up and going to a concert.

I have Ménière’s disease and Hypothyroidism.

I have wanted to be a writer since I was in the second grade, when I first realized writing was an occupation and therefore a possibility for me. It’s still the thing I want most.

Day of Rest

Today I’ve been contemplating practice, as Sunday, my day of rest, begins with me moving through my whole set, ending around noon. As I have mentioned before, my primary practices are:

  1. Word (reading and writing them)
  2. Meditation (shamata style)
  3. Yoga (asana, typically hatha style)
  4. Dog (hanging out with them in nature, talking a walk or hike being one of the main ways this is accomplished)

This morning started with half a cup of coffee and half an hour of writing.

Scribble

Then, Eric and I took the dogs on a long walk.

After that, I went to my Sunday morning yoga class.

Yoga Feet

And finally, I went to the Shambhala Meditation Center and spent an hour in both sitting and walking meditation, ending with a series of chants.


When Eric and I were getting ready to take the dogs on a walk this morning, he was brushing their teeth. This was a difficult habit for us to form. There were probably 2-4 years of real effort towards getting it to stick. One or the both of us would try and do pretty well for about two weeks, then months would pass before it would happen again. And it’s not like the boys mind, in fact, they love the taste of the paste so much, they beg for it when we are in the bathroom with them. We knew it was important, and we love our dogs and want to do what’s best for them, but it still was a struggle to do what we needed to do on a regular basis.

For the past few months, Eric has managed to brush the boys’ teeth every day. It’s been long enough that I think it’s safe to say it has been habituated. He explained this morning that he thinks what made the difference was doing it in the morning right before a walk. Something about trying to do it at night was too much of a struggle–he’d be too tired or lazy, or he’d just forget.

I told him the same thing had happened to me with my meditation practice. Even though it was something I wanted, knew the benefits, when I was trying to fit it into my evening routine, it was just too hard to do it–I’d be too tired or lazy, or I’d just forget. We get up at 4:30 am every morning, so thinking I could go strong all day and then manage to get myself on the cushion after 6 pm was like “a normal person trying to meditate at midnight,” Eric pointed out.

But it was hard to think about adding another thing to my morning routine. Even though I get up so early, I have to get a lot done before getting to work: feed the dogs, write for half an hour, check my email, either walk the dogs or do yoga for 1.5 hours, shower or pack a gym bag and go workout, and make a lunch. But as I struggled with trying to meditate in the evening, I started to notice that there was time in the morning, that there were things I could do the night before, like packing my gym bag, or do less of, like reading all my emails, that would allow me to fit my practice in. So, I did. And it’s worked. I feel much better starting my day that way.

So what I’ve been thinking about today is that even when you know what’s best for you, what you want for yourself, even if you long to make that change or adopt that practice, it can take some time to get it to really stick, to become a habit, an embodied way of being. You might have to struggle for a really long time with old habits, rusty viewpoints, and tired excuses. And yet, if you keep at it, keep trying, you’ll find the place it fits, how to make it functional. As always, it’s important to relax and have a sense of humor about things, and to keep in mind that ultimately, it’s all workable.

Are there practices you struggle with, ways of being you long for? Maybe, just for today, you could forgive yourself for not accomplishing them just yet, let go of an idea you have of being perfect or good, and rest, simply contemplate the notion of that practice or that change, without having to do a single other thing about it–at least for today.