Saturday, December 17, 2016

On The Death of My Pup

First, let's just give all the fucking gratitude in the world for my meditation practice.

Seriously, thank god.

I couldn't do it yesterday, the first morning after Remo died, because I honestly didn't feel like I could leave John even for 20 quiet minutes. Not because he was broken, just because I knew waking up the first morning without that furry face was going to be the hardest.

But this morning, I came into my quiet office, 5:45AM. I had turned on all the heat and my extra little heater, it was still dark and I sat down. 20 minutes of quiet and warm, 20 minutes to drop it from my tense body and tense mind. There's just something about it, in the winter, in the warm, after my pup.


We've been waiting for Remo to die for 15 months.

He was supposed to be long gone, cancer, a cancer that is a killer, for most dogs when they're diagnosed, it's 18 days. Remo lived about 400 days longer than he was supposed to.

So, there's a lot of gratitude there. And those 400 days were him at full tilt, he was healthy and happy.

But the truth is, we put off a lot, we changed life plans. We settled into our apartment to take care of our pup for what we thought was weeks. Now there's a release there, a freedom that's hard to wrap my mind around. I can leave the house for the whole day, we could just take off and go somewhere, we're not tied to Chicago, to the apartment....

When something/somebody dies naturally, when they're supposed to, there's something easier about it isn't there?

Some relief.

And absolute and total loneliness.

I was expecting it. I knew it would come and I fear the worst of the dog loneliness is not past, but there's a fucking hole in this house, just exactly the shape of our 65 pound dog.

When you don't have kids, the dog becomes not your kid of course, but an equal for sure. Remo was as much a part of us as us is.

I lost my wedding ring last summer, lost it at the beach and John's wedding ring is falling off his fingers.

We have a jewelry maker friend who said he could incorporate some of Remo's ashes into new wedding rings for us.

That's usually kind of a gross thought to me, but here, in this case, I love it.

His death is a harbinger of change.

We haven't had a harbinger in a long while. As much as I'm going to miss my best friend, my greatest source of comfort and joy, there is something beautiful in harbinging.

Oh, I miss his little face. And the space between his eyes where I kiss him.

Sunday, December 11, 2016

It's snowy

My dog is dying slowly and in fits and starts.

And I've been working lately on being "receptive."

Ew. I don't want to be receptive.

I'd like to be closed off, alone, quiet, far away and not receiving anything thank you very much, just in case I need to return it back later when I'm not ready.

I've been working on a paradigm shift with money. I'm tired of it the way it is. And if Margaret wants to change something the way she does that is to educate herself about it. So I hive-minded on FB and got tons of suggestions of things to read and listen to and it's great, I already feel better, just moving forward with A plan is better than no plan at all.

But from the ritziest to the ditziest of all the things I've been reading - one sure fire thing is receptivity. You just have to believe that you deserve and can receive "abundance."

That you have to love and respect your money like you love and respect your own self. The more you shun it, turn away from it, ignore it, the worse it's all going to get.

And I know this to be true on some level because I've been working with this anyway, with my emotions and feelings, that you have to tune into this stuff.

And to think about honestly loving my money, that is really weird. That is one fucked up concept.

So I've been listening to Receptive meditations and stuff and it's really interesting how hard it is to open up to that. To be worthy. To stop telling the stories of how much "I hate being broke all the time" and "why is it all so hard" and FUCK IT. Christ. Fuck it. My conditioning is so strong and so silly when I can find a way to see through it.

Not that any of it matters because our dual wars with China and Russia are going to fuck everything up anyway.


Wednesday, November 30, 2016

My Yoga Teacher

I'm still Switchin' To Glide everyone. Just in case you were wondering. Even with Tdjkals;dfjkl;mp.




This morning I told my yoga teacher how much I like her class. I just take dumb yoga at the LA Fitness. I know what kind of yoga classes I'm getting and really, I think most of the teachers have been great (there was the one who said he "doesn't believe in the mind-body connection," what? It's YOGA) but I know it's not like, serious yoga.

Anyway, we have this new teacher and she replaced a teacher I really liked and was bummed about her leaving, but our NEW teacher is FUN!

She's fucking fun and hilarious and she makes us all laugh and it's so nice.

It's so nice.

Humor man. So powerful.

Anyway, this morning, after probably 5 or 6 mornings of wanting to say something and not saying something, I finally said something.

And her face lit up and she was so happy.

I have to act on the kindnesses I imagine. It's Trfjkasda;jfdksl;fjmps America now.

Monday, November 07, 2016

Switchin' to Glide

I found this song again, heard it in somewhere, downloaded it, been listenin' to it again.

Shit. I've been working so hard this summer, not just on tours, but me and the Whole30 and my life and I'm really tired of being anxious and no fun and all work and only some play that really isn't that fun.

I couldn't tell you the last time I had a laugh out loud, roaring good time.

I fear that's what comes from not drinking, but alas, the last thing I want to do is drink. So.

But in general, where has all this anxiety and fear gotten me?

I'm safe, I'm warm, I have enough $$ right at the moment for it to be okay, so it has gotten me that, but I'm pretty sure I would have all those things and be a little lighter in my heart.

I'm hard on myself, we all are. I can be hard on my husband and I don't like that at all.

Why am I so hard on the both of us and why and how and how is it helping me?

I'm going to work on finding a little more joy, being a little more receptive, giving my brain and body a break.

I'm switching to glide. It's easier that way.

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

It's Tomorrow!

Tomorrow I start it, the Whole30. I have a funny feeling this is a bit like Crossfit or Veganism or something...I WANT to talk about it!  I'm reading forums! I scour blogs.

I'm scared and really excited.

I've cooked more in the past week than I have in my entire life. I'm taken more interest in my food this week (real interest, I mean, I'm always thinking about food) then in my whole life.  Keep in mind most of my cooking has been done in the crockpot, but that's chill. I'm cool with it. I have food I made waiting for me in the freezer, this is huge.

The Whole30 is very strict. I'm keeping to the plan, I am, there's no cheating and I am NOT cheating, but, I am planning on doing what I need to do for me. There are going to be a lot of easy meals, I'm going to eat some almond butter (allowed but discouraged) if I'm freaking out and might cheat. I'm not going to buy THE MOST expensive piece of meat. I'm not going to be bogged down by fancy meals. I'm a simple eater, so this is great for me.

And I'm not kidding when I say I've had bread with pretty much with every meal since I was old enough to eat bread. This is TERRIFYING.

But terrifying is fun these days, especially when I know it's something good for me.

Terrifying is evolution.

John is not doing the Whole30, but he's a friendly ally. He's not going to bring deliciousness into this house without me, he's going to help me make something awesome when I'm too tired and freaking out because this is the first time IN MY ENTIRE LIFE I'm not eating sugar as fuel. He's also looking forward to that kind of thing being out of the house.

So. Here we go. I feel like it's a trip or something! I'll keep writing here about it and other things I think.

Besides quitting smoking, this may be the most important thing I do for myself, ever.

See you on the other side baby!!

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

A Whole Month of Whole 30

I'm doing it. I'm totally doing it.

I'm doing the Whole 30. 

Starting next Weds, September 21st, I'm going to do it!

I'm really scared and excited.

I've never really done anything like this before. So. I quit smoking 85 times and the one final time, so I understand a little bit about this kinds of things.

The truth is, I eat bread pretty much 3 meals a day. And I like chocolate. A lot. And sweets. A lot. And chips. And fries. And cheese. I've never eaten another way, my family ate this way, I've always eaten this way.

And I've been eating this way pretty much my whole life. And I don't really cook.

I promised myself that when I started getting "older," I would take care of myself. I've always made that promise to myself, that is why I quit smoking. I promised myself I would. I've always wanted, JUST ONCE, to eat like I'm supposed to, so I can see how it feels. I want to know.

And now I feel trapped. I feel trapped by my eating habits. I feel compulsive and out of control. I feel like I'm doing damage to myself and that is what I'm trying so hard to get away from. With my natural movement kick and my meditation - all of these kind things I'm doing for myself and then BAM, I fuck it up with 500, sometimes 600 calories of sugar and stuff a night! A NIGHT!

So, I'm doing this because I feel stuck. I'm doing this because I don't sleep well. I'm doing this because I want to learn how to take care of myself (I really don't and have never cooked), I'm doing this because I like to reinvent and relearn and learn and improve.

I'm NOT doing this to lose weight. Fuck that.

John said, why do this whole thing though? Why not just stop eating that stuff?


Oh man.

I have to. I have to make it "a deal." I have to go down the rabbit hole of Whole 30 forum boards about what is acceptable and what isn't. It has to be an event, or I would never do it.

So I started by making *JUST NOW FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER* a soup in the crockpot to freeze. I've started trying to buy meat with no sugar in it, seriously?? SUGAR IN MEAT?

I've been looking up videos on how to cut summer squash.

Who is this girl?

A girl under control goddamnit. 

Thursday, June 09, 2016

My Mom Died, So I Got A Tattoo

Yesterday was June 8th. (Today is June 9th! Come here to learn important things about dates!)

Four years ago, on June 8th, my mom died.

Fast forward to a few years ago when John and I went to Vietnam and then Thailand and tried to get real Buddhist Sak Yant tattoos and the monk totally jacked up the prices so we never got them.

But once you get the idea for a tattoo in your brain, it's pretty hard to get it out.

Ever since I've been toying with a Buddhist tattoo. Now, you're not really supposed to have idols of the Buddha, like Buddha heads and stuff, that's not really a Buddhist thing. So I didn't want THE BUDDHA as a tattoo. And I wasn't looking for some simply symbology, although, that's cool, but truth? I don't know what a lot of that stuff means. I definitely didn't want a Buddhist tat I didn't understand.

In my mother's house, she had a piece of art, a beautiful and graceful hand. For much of my life I never thought that it was anything other than a beautiful hand and in my adult life, I learned that hand was the Buddha's hand. I've loved it ever since. 

One thing for sale in Thailand that is not the Buddha's head or likeness, is the Buddha's hand, it's a thing I like to buy for people and I bought one for myself. It's pretty and it makes me feel peaceful and it reminds me of my mom and my childhood.

A few weeks ago I went out on an adventure with my friend Erica. We were going to a big mindfulness thing, a run, some yoga, and a guided meditation. We were going to yoga and run and meditate and then we were going to drink and get tattoos.

But see? It was freezing that day, almost literally freezing and it had POURED rain the night before. There was no running (for us, we cheated and walked), there was no outdoor yoga (some girls seriously set up their mats right next to huge puddles, we um, didn't) and there was no way we were staying for the meditation. Instead, we went and ate huge breakfasts and got really tired and went home and watched movies and ate Thai food at our respective houses. And it was glorious.

But no tattoos achieved. It wasn't right, neither one of us was feeling it like a tattoo-getter should. All good there though, we had a fun and weird day.

SO, upcoming, June 8th, mom's death day. It's my new New Years, it's the way I measure my life  now because it's so clear where I was that specific day both mentally and physically, I use it as a yardstick now.

And it's a big day for me, some years it's been sad, yesterday it was empowering.

Yesterday I got my mom's Buddha hand tattooed on my body. Oh and I battled "I'm too old," I battled "But you're not really a Buddhist," I battled "THIS IS PERMANENT YOUNG (old) LADY, nice girls don't get tattoos that all the world can see! (I have 3 other tattoos and all of them are relatively hidden, this is my first "out there" tat).

But alas, I did it. At 12:15 on a random (not to me) Wednesday, I GOT ME TAT!

OMG! omg.

I can't believe I did it and I kind of freaking love it.