Yoga adjustments

I started going to yoga a couple winters ago with my friend.  She knew of a local hot yoga class.  It was a very cold winter and she said why not try it; I would at least be warm for an hour a week.  LOL  I did and I liked it.  The class was what was called Yoga Fit.

Anyone who knows me in real life knows that I am kind of  very competitive.  I love being pushed hard.  I love trying to beat a book time or my personal best when I hike.  I like to sweat.  So this yoga class was a good fit.  There was a lot of sweat. A lot of pushing.  A lot of core work.  And though my balance was awful my flexibility was awesome so I did well overall.  People were friendly and I kept going, long after my friend moved on to something different.

Life happens.  My yoga teacher's relationship ended. She decided to sell her house (where she had her studio) and bought a small condo. While she is actively looking for a new studio space, there have not been hot yoga classes this summer. 

Summer is also the time I usually take zumba classes at the dance school. But that teacher is on maternity leave so that was also not happening.  I do work out with an on line program but I am a social person.  I really look forward to these times for chatting and connecting with others. So I started looking around for classes.  None of the zumba classes fit the times I had available.  I still have to get kids to things even in the summer and my wife still works in the evenings, so there are specific date and time windows I can do something.  So I sadly crossed off zumba but found a yoga class literally down the street.  At a day and time that I could absolutely do.  Off I went.

Initially I was underwhelmed.  No one was friendly.  Seriously, NO ONE said hi when I walked in. They all kept talking and I had to wait 15 minutes before I could ask where to pay, introduce myself etc.  Not the greatest start.  And this was not a yoga fit class.  This was, what I sarcastically called "woo woo yoga" when I got home and told my wife about it that night.  It felt like everything was about breathing. 

Um, I know how to breathe. I've been doing it for 60 years.  I wanted to twist and bend and work my core til it trembled.  Instead we moved gently, stopped to breath.  Moved gently while we focussed on breathing.  Put our hand on our centers while we breathed. . . you get the picture I hope.  There was a song you were invited to sing at the beginning of class and the end of it. Except no one teaches it to you. 

But because there was no other class I could go to that fit my schedule, and because I am stubborn, I kept going.  I figured there is always something to get out of an experience and I was determined that this was going to happen. 

And it did.  Gradually over the course of the summer I have come to enjoy this class.  I still don't know the opening song (though I did learn the closing one) I have managed through my very persistant overly friendly nature, to get people to talk to me.  (I have no idea why that is so important to me but it is)

I have learned that being more gentle and focussing on breathing is not a bad thing.  While I don't have that burn I crave at the end of class, I usually do feel a lightness and a feeling I can not quite describe.  It has been worth it.  There is something to learn from every experience even when it is not the experience we thought we wanted.  My summer yoga sessions end next week because after that our fall schedule will make it impossible for me to come. But I am glad that I had this opportunity and I am glad I kept myself open to finding the worth within it.

Garden glories

The most intensely purple hydrangea!

Early in the spring our side yards are so sere and bare.  The land looks depleted and I despair of it looking nice.  Sure I know there are a billion hosta that will come up. But it is my wife who loves the hosta,   Me?  Not so much. I love color. I crave it like some people crave chocolate when they have PMS!  LOL  And the reality is that we have precious little time to really garden.  Weeding is at best hit or miss.  And a lot more miss than hit.  Yet somehow, this happens!  A riot of blooms. Color for weeks!  Stunning phlox, hydrangeas and sunflowers.  The echinecea plants had a spectacular year too.  Ferns made a verdant soft counterpoint to the color. Spirea bloomed with abandon.  I have a couple of rose plants and they did well.  My trumpet vine decided it was not dead after all and bloomed its heart out!

I am storing up all this colorful goodness. I know that we are on the ever darkening side of the wheel right now.  So I share these pictures and memories so that I will be able to look back in the depths of December and remember summer.

A riotous display of phlox

Sunflowers are one of my faves!

KC decorates!

KC has been working hard on the decor for his room.  It has honestly been a couple years now that he was mulling over color palettes and styles. Creating pinterest boards and wish lists on A*mazon.  He informed me that his room would have a feel of Broadway with his personality shining through.  he was right.   He chose a deep gray, nearly black, for the bottom half of the walls. This is actually old panelling.  The top 1/2 of the walls he chose an off white with a touch of creamy yellow. Actually maybe only a hint of yellow.  It is not a combination I would have chosen because I like really intense colors, but it is really stunning.  He has a two windows and an open doorway which have burgundy black out curtains. 

So the wall repairs have been done. The ceiling repairs done. The paint applied.  And KC has begun to purchase the items that will help make the space most truly his.  He chose some floating shelves and this engendered a great deal of conversation.  Our upper walls are all lathe and plaster so floating shelves don't have tons of support despite using mollys or toggle bolts.  However he was clear that nothing heavy would be on the shelves so we put them up.  I did not know exactly what he wanted to display.  KC is my guy who has always saved momentos from all manner of things.  Here is one shelf;
I asked him about the shelves.  He told me a story about them.  One is a tiny Wiggles car that was on his birthday cake for his wiggles birthday party.  I think he might have been 4 that year.  He has one of his Robeez baby shoes, his favorite bath toy from when he was tiny (a frog that squirted water) and his grandfather's compass.  In KC's words, it shows his progression from infancy to guiding him into his future.  Sheesh.  I didn't think about thinkgs like that for my room when I was 15 I assure you!

I don't have a picture yet of his second floating shelf but he devoted that one to his Coming of Age experience and church and his Youth Group experiences.  It too looks amazing.

Theater is a big part of his life.  He loves musical theater and while he has not starred in any yet, i expect at some point he may explore this. He has many friends in theater and he found this cool and inexpensive grid to hang playbills and favorite pictures:


Then he decided that he wanted pictures of his roles in the dance recitals.  He had a character role last year and will have one for the next 3 years so he found inexpensive frames at IKEA and created this:
                                            If you can't read the  wooden sign it says "I hope you dance" and he bought it on a mission trip last year.  The top left frame is filled all ready; it has his picture of his role as Don Lino in the school's recital.

There is more to come--he has ordered a rug in burgundy with gold accents.  He has also gotten a bookshelf that I'll write about some other time when I regale you all with our maiden voyage to the land of IKEA! For now I am just smiling at the fact that my son seems to know himself so well and has such a vision of what needs to be in his space to give him joy.

Jacob's Pillow

Anyone who reads my blog knows my kids dance.  KC is especially passionate about dance.  He wants to dance on Broadway, and have his own dance studio.  On July 4th instead of having our traditional BBQ we instead travelled to the western part of our state to a unique venue for dance.  Both kids were able to take a class from Kyle Marshall Choreography.  This was meaningful in a multitude of ways.

It is important for KC especially to get the experience of different teaching styles as he has been at the same school since he was 5.  The class was led by a black man which is also important.  I like my kids to see who they are reflected in the things they care about.  Most of the troupe were black, and although our local school is diverse, it is not as profoundly diverse as that.

The class was open to anyone 12 and older.  My two were definately the only ones under 18 and maybe under 20, but they held their own.  Elisabeth got a little swamped with the speed with which choreography was taught out but KC was definately in his element. 

And of course, I forgot to write about the experience because I woke with one of the worst migraines I have had in a long time and struggled through the day in sun glasses and eating next to nothing so as not to embarrass myself in public.  We stayed to watch the troupe perform after the class was over but bailed before the question and answer period because we had a longish drive back and by this time it was harder to hide how utterly miserable I was feeling.

The next day I "friended" the instructor on FB and send a private message just thanking him for the experience my kids had.  They literally talked about it all the way home and KC talked about it for days.  I expected nothing in response.  I just think that when cool things happen and your life is touched in a positive way it is nice to let folks know that happened. 

This morning when I opened FB there was a private message from the instructor, saying he remembered the kids and that they did well and he was glad they enjoyed it so much.  I showed it to them when I got home from work as during the summer they are still in bed when I go to work.  Both of them were excited all over again.  KC wants to do a summer intensive at the pillow, not next year but probably the year after.  It would mean living there for a month but would offer him a chance to see 15 performances in a variety of styles, take a vast amount of classes, perform there and peruse the dance archives which he desperately wants to see.

Sometimes I am still so shocked by his drive and the fact that he feels so keenly that this is what he was meant to do.  I didn't feel that way at 15.  Heck I didn't feel that way EVER until I became a parent.  That felt like the big thing I was supposed to do.  But career wise, I am still working toward my managership goal, but not with the passion that exudes from every pore of his being.  I admire the heck out of that!

 Picture is us setting out for the trek west!  Lipstick shades and ball cap to hide the fact that I look like the walking dead! LOL  The Pillow does not allow picture taking during performances or classes so I got none of the kids while they were rocking the outdoor stage.