Q & A with GRATITUDE

"Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple."  ~  Dr. Seuss


I feel truly, exceptionally and powerfully blessed. So many people have dropped me notes to wish me well and to encourage me over the past year. I have no idea what my life would be like, had my life's course not veered into unknown territory. However, one thing that I do know: I'm eternally grateful for those special folks who have reached out to me. I'm encouraged by your stories, by your thoughtfulness, by your willingness to get to know me and by the new friends I've made. In addition, you have all asked me some good questions. Rather than repeat myself, I've decided to do a Q & A segment on Preppy Yogini. I've done this on other blogs, but not here. So, I hope that I'm managing to answer most of your questions. If not? I plan on doing another one in time. Thank you again for all of your kindness and understanding.

1. How did you come up with the name "Preppy Yogini"? I did blog piece on this very story about six months ago, called The Bohemian Sloth. When I was doing my yoga teacher training, I was blessed with many fantastic instructors. Unfortunately, one was just hideous. He was a cross between Attila the Hun and the worst Kindergarten teacher ever. He made fun of people. He pushed students to the point of injury and he was simply a rotten person, let alone a terrible instructor. When I questioned his methodology, he spat out, "You're nothing but a preppy yogini". He meant it as the most derogatory slur imaginable. I wear it like a badge of honor now.
2. You talk about Maine a lot. Are you from Maine? Yes...and no. To a true, iconoclastic Mainer, I am not. I wasn't born here. Therefore, I'm from "away". But, I have spent many years here, first as a summer person growing up, and then with my husband and our children. I grew up in California and New York, and went to school in Rhode Island and Massachusetts, before moving to Europe for four years. I enjoy living in Maine, but I also love traveling to other places. I get itchy feet if I'm in one place too long.
3. What made you become a yoga instructor? How did you become one? I had been practicing yoga for years before my first cancer diagnosis in 2003. I had three surgeries in just 7 weeks. It was tough! But, yoga was instrumental in helping me recover. When I was well enough, I resigned from my job in traditional education and studied at Kripalu and Gentle Spirit Yoga for my 200 hour R.Y.T. certification. I felt tremendously encouraged by own instructors and this inspired me to pursue my own path in teaching.
4. What's your favorite yoga style of practice? What do you recommend? That's like asking a mother who her favorite child is! I have honestly enjoyed every form of yoga I've practiced. I believe that every class, regardless of yogic 'arm', has the potential to be fabulous for all levels. It really comes down to the teacher and her willingness to give of herself to her students. For beginners, I generally recommend classes that are Hatha based, or that offer Yoga Foundations. It's a great starting point.
5. You have mentioned being sick. What was wrong? How are you doing? I'm doing much better! A year ago, I was slowly starting to walk around and drive again. Unfortunately, my Sarcoma based cancer returned. This time, my surgery and procedures were even more invasive...and I'm also 8 years older, making my recovery that much more difficult. The form of cancer I have is not treatable by radiation or chemotherapy. Surgery is my only option. I had some pretty intense setbacks, but I'm on the road to recovery again. It's just a very slow road. Think Los Angeles traffic at rush hour slow.
6. Why have you stopped doing book reviews? I am still reading up a storm and look forward to writing reviews again on this blog. When I created Ellen's Thirty Day Book Challenge last Spring, I actually ended up reviewing more than 30 books, since I had an impossible time narrowing my list down. I burned out on writing book reviews for a while, as a result. 
7. I like your writing. Have you been published? Years ago, I was published in Parenting, Mothering, The Doula and several other magazines aimed at that life path. I haven't been published since then. I hope to be again. I'm working on several different pieces...but all seem to be longer than magazine articles. I look forward to continuing my writing. While it would be an honor to be published, I truly write for myself and my own spirit. Anything beyond that would be fresh butter cream icing on a very dense carrot cake.
8. What other hobbies do you enjoy? Beyond writing, reading and yoga, I love design. I think I'm actually a frustrated art director in a yogini's skin! I also love animals...I have two dogs now, but have had horses, cats and one very special bunny during my life. I love good wine, scintillating conversation, travel and long walks on the beach at sunset. Seriously though...I really do love long walks on the beach at sunset.
9. Are you still teaching yoga? Can I join your class? Unfortunately, my last surgery, the complications that ensued, made teaching yoga impossible for me. I am adjusting to a new definition of normal. If you're going to be in coastal Maine or the greater Scottsdale, Arizona areas, I'd be happy to recommend some amazing teachers. I am taking 3-4 classes a week again, and am enjoying the simplicity of being a student at this time.
10. What's next for you? I wish I knew. I really wish I knew! I have no idea. I do know that it's time to figure out who I'm going to be as a grown up. It would be nice if the universe sent out smoke signals to give me a hint. While I'm looking for said clues in the heavens, I'm doing a lot of volunteer work in my community. And drinking far too much tea. 

Thank you again. Best wishes. Enjoy. Namaste!

Indian Summer

"I think it pisses God off when you walk by the color purple in a field and don't notice it."  Alice Walker "The Color Purple" 


One of the greatest joys of living in New England is the change of seasons. I look forward to the magic that each new time of year brings. In part, I think this isn't so much of a case of disliking the current time as it is an eagerness for what comes next. It's great fun to pull out my sweaters every Fall...just as it's a great relief to put them away every summer.


My father, a lifelong Northeast resident, enjoyed our move to California...up to a point. The first few years, I think he managed to "suffer through" being a Santa Barbara resident. However, the bloom was off the Banksia rose (and the orange blossoms, hyacinth and nasturtium), when he bought (and wore) a t-shirt that said "Just another sh%*^y day in Paradise". Other people might have found that statement to be witty and ironic. Dad was dead serious. He missed the snow. He daydreamed about Autumn leaves, Nor'easters and waking up to the crunch of first frost on the lawn.


This year, however, I'm soaking up every bit of the glorious Indian Summer weather. I'm basking in the glow of hazy, breezy afternoon sun. I'm finding incredible peace in just celebrating October temperatures in the 70's. Why? There is just so much unknown on the horizon. In less than one week I'll be in Arizona, consulting with a new neurological specialist. I've run through my meager medical options here and must head to a center that can offer me help, answers and a plan of action. So, I find myself with a lack of enthusiasm for the changing seasons this year. I still love Fall. But I just want to hang onto the present, pleasant days I'm having now.


As exciting as it is to take out that box of warm clothes, I realize how much time I've wasted looking too far ahead. For now, I'm content to just remain utterly thankful for Indian Summer. It's as if I've been given a reminder to stop and notice "the color purple"...especially if that color comes with a glass of iced tea next to the hammock.

Slowing Life Down...

Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop to look around once in a while you could miss it. ~From the movie Ferris Bueller's Day Off

A far too common theme, among people in the western world, is how quickly life appears to move. In the blink of an eye, we move on from high school, race through college, twirl through young adulthood, blur our way through parenthood and find ourselves in middle age, dazed at how half a lifetime could have transpired. There are days in which I feel as if I fell asleep a carefree college student, and woke up with wrinkles. An entire existence has continued while I've been busy loading the dishwasher, taking the dogs to the vet, attending Parent-Teacher conferences and folding laundry. Great works of art have been created, new scientific theories have been proven true and astonishing events in history have all manifested, while I've raced from one school pick to the next, dropped off one child at ballet and the other at hockey and cooked an everlasting number of dinners. When I have spoken with my friends, I know that I'm not alone. This sense of almost dream-like frantic movement is the cultural norm. We all want to slow down to appreciate the little things in life more, but we can't, because we're late for a Little League board meeting.

And yet, there are constantly images and ideas being thrown at us about how to be even more productive with our time. As if life isn't darting away rapidly already, we are told to "Multi-task" more efficiently and to employ strategic "time management" philosophies. Books with titles like "101 Ways to Make Every Second Count", "The Successful Time Manager" and "Measuring Time, Improving Performance" are everywhere. Articles on the topic are in all types of periodicals; from "Parenting" to the Wall Street Journal. Classes abound at community colleges on Time Management, aimed at students of all ages. Though each one has good ideas about not wasting time, I find the plethora of information about time management to be overwhelming...and if I'm being completely honest, going through all of them would be a colossal time waster. While I'm certain that I could pack even more onto the house of cards I call my schedule, the question is, do I really want to? Will I enjoy life more, if I'm finally able to fit in learning Russian, redecorating my house in Feng Shui principles and taking watercolor painting classes?

I have enormous respect for people that really can do it all. They seem to juggle parenting, marriage, fascinating career, exceptional volunteer work, time for self-improvement, fitness, housework and travel. It leaves me feeling embarrassed about how little I'm able to manage. But, rather than try to add more to my 'load', I've made a conscious decision to add less. Why? As much as I'd love to be, I seem to spread myself too thin when I take on too many projects. As worthwhile and as important as these might seem to be, I find that just adding that one extra ball to my juggling hands, can lead to my dropping the entire contingent. So, instead of judging myself harshly about what I have not been able to do, I am making a choice to give all of my focus and attention on each moment as it comes. Some people have the enviable gift of being able to intentionally focus on a huge variety of projects all at once. Others can only manage one or two. I believe that we need to look inside ourselves, find out where we can best spend our energies, and then give those items the attention they deserve by not looking too far ahead to the next bit to be ticked off our to-do list. By slowing down our thoughts, by focusing on each piece of our day, by breathing deeply in the moment, we can appreciate each one as it comes...rather than let it whip past us in a hurricane.

Buddhist monk, poet, teacher and philosopher Thich Nhat Hanh wrote, "By being aware of your actions, you can enjoy your life while you make tea, or while you wash the dishes. All of this means that you can stop running after things which you think will make you happy. By being aware of what you already have–and of the beauty that surrounds you–you can be happy right here, right now." I find this attitude to be refreshing and inspiring. Dr. Hanh isn't exhorting us to give up the life that we have to move into seclusion. Nor, is he instilling the need to scale back. He's simply reminding us to appreciate the life we've been given. Whether we're folding laundry, cheering on our kids at a tennis match or offering input in a conference, we have the ability to slow down. We can create a quiet inner sense of peace, regardless of what we're doing. How do we do this? By just realizing that moments are here. They are present. They are now. They can be appreciated.

None of this is new or ground breaking. Mindful living doesn't mean doing "without". It simply is a method of allowing our focus to shift from "out" to "in". It won't turn back the hands of time. It will not keep the calendar from moving ahead to the next month. But it will give us a tool that, unlike the books designed to teach us to cram even more into our lives, has the intention of helping us appreciate the uniqueness of our day to day existence. When we feel that gratitude...by simply living in the 'now', instead of checking our watches every five minutes....we can make every moment count. At the very least, we have the ability to enjoy the gift of the time we have.

So, breathe. Close your eyes. Open them. Take in your surroundings. Find the beauty in this specific moment. And, know you are here right now...use that time to cherish the important things.

Thankfulness

If you concentrate on finding whatever is good in every situation, you will discover that your life will suddenly be filled with gratitude, a feeling that nurtures the soul. -- Rabbi Harold Kushner

Just as millions of other Americans are doing this week, my family is preparing for Thanksgiving. We're cleaning the house from top to bottom, scrubbing every surface that doesn't move (and a few that want to run away when they see the dog shampoo). I'm creating a master plan for who will sleep where, as our relatives come join us for the holiday. I'm planning the cooking time sheet to remind myself which dish needs to go into the oven when. I'm pulling out and ironing my holidays linens. I'm making last minute trips to the store so that I don't run out of milk, coffee and laundry detergent. I'm focusing on pick up schedules at the train, bus and airport. My mother and I will have our family tradition of watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade as we cook together. My husband will share the tradition of home projects with his parents, feeling grateful for their help. We'll feast too much, we'll watch some football, we'll enjoy my mother-in-law's extraordinary pies and we'll count our blessings.

This year, however, I'd like to try an exercise that's a little different, and quite a bit contrary to our usual recounting of the events and people we appreciate. I would like to attempt thankfulness towards the challenges in my life. The Buddha says, "Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn't learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a little, at least we didn't get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn't die; so, let us all be thankful". In 1 Thessalonians, St. Paul wrote, "Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus." It's easy to be thankful for our health when it's good. It's a snap to be thankful to friends and family when relationships aren't strained. It's not a stretch to be grateful for our lives when one joyful coincidence follows another. We can smile, we can sing and we can praise the heavens for the bounty in our lives when our thriving plenitude overflows. But, what happens when we face a serious illness? When we find ourselves deeply hurt by someone we care for? When our finances will never cover our bills? It is at these times of "want" that we learn to appreciate the plenty.

Therefore, I'd like to count my trials as my blessings this year. I would venture forth to say that it is from these times of inadequacy that I have learned where my fortune truly lies:

• I am thankful for the seriousness illnesses I have had, and the continued screenings and tests I must endure to make certain they have not returned. Being hospitalized, and especially being in intensive care, has left me with a profound sense of appreciation for my very existence. Every deep breath I take, every morning I wake up not attached to monitors and every moment I'm not in pain is a gift. I'm thankful for the amazing men and women who have cared for me, while I was unwell, and especially thankful for those who saved my life. The air smells crisper, the sunrises look more dramatic and the feeling of sleeping in my own bed is more delicious.
• I am thankful for the people who have hurt me terribly. There is nothing like the pain of rejection, betrayal and disloyalty. Those feelings cut to the bone and are more arduous wounds to heal than those created by a doctor's scalpel. They left me with gaping trauma and humiliation at being so trusting of those who meant me harm. Still, as I began to heal from these internal injuries I also realized how exceptionally precious those steadfast people in my life truly are. Although my skeptical inner voice would whisper in my ear, "Don't allow this person to see the real you....she won't like you and she will use yournature to harm you....", I discovered that in being sensibly optimistic, I would have the chance to make a new friend, appreciate a family member more deeply and open myself up to new possibilities for caring. The somber wounds of deceit won't go away, but they can be cauterized. They also serve as a reminder to love those who are true all the more profoundly.
• I am thankful for days in which everything seems to go wrong: the car won't start, the dog throws up on the one good rug, the washing machine 'walks' across the floor as it spews soapy water and the backyard fence falls over in a slow drift proving Newton's theory. I am thankful when our finances are in the red, rather than in the black. I am thankful when my two children get into a scrape. I am thankful when the roof over my head needs reshingling. I am thankful when the coffee pot overflows grounds, just like lava from Mt. Vesuvius. I am thankful when my jeans don't fit and that I'm sure that the scale must be broken. I am thankful when I'm hopelessly stuck in rush hour traffic, or that my airline flight has been delayed for the fourth time. I am thankful when my driveway becomes so icy that it's more like a skating rink built into a hillside than a road way. I am thankful for bad hair days. I am thankful for the swelteringly sickly hot days of summer. I am thankful for stuffy noses, bruised elbows and mosquito bites. I am thankful for dropping a Waterford crystal glass. I am thankful when I feel disgustingly short tempered. I am thankful when I burn dinner beyond recognition, and we have to have cereal for supper. I am thankful for every library book I've lost, for every bill I've misplaced and for each appointment I'd forgotten completely.

Why in the world would I be thankful for these events? Why would I feel grateful at having my feelings, my time, my life and my sense of self turn into a cyclone of emotional discontent? I am thankful because at these very moments, I have the special, exceptional and delightful opportunity to experience grace. We don't discover blessing, clemency or compassion when life is going well. We can't buy it, we can't trade for it and we can't steal it. We can only open our hearts to benevolence in times of need. I have learned far more during the darkest chapters of my life, and even during the moderately cranky moments, than I have when life seemed effortless and easy. It's when we are broken, distraught and inept that we have the unlikely shining goal of opportunity: the chance to find that magic crystal, from video game graphics, that will lead us to a greater understanding of life's meaning, to a more profound situation from life's tiny blessings and to an enhanced vision of where our life priorities should lie. These dreadful times of misfortune are when we learn true appreciation.

So, when you 'gather together' this Thanksgiving, and each friend or family member is telling what she is thankful for, remember that not all blessings come during the easy times. More often, the greatest lessons we can learn, and that can teach us to be the exceptional people we were designed to be, come wrapped the gift basket of calamity.

All Through the Night

Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee, All through the night. Guardian angels, God will send thee, All through the night. Soft the drowsy hours are creeping; Hill and dale in slumber sleeping. I my loving vigil keeping, All through the night. The English Hymnal #268

The the song above is such a common lullaby that many people forget that it is a hymn, appearing in more than 16 different denominational hymnals. Peter, Paul & Mary recorded a version, as did Cyndy Lauper, Charlotte Church, Josh Groban, Cole Porter and countless other musicians. The Irish church claims it as an Irish song. The Welsh have attributed it to traditional Welsh folk tunes, and it's been recorded, many times, sung in Welsh. The oldest printed lyrics I could find include "All Through the Night" in an English hymnal. Regardless of this song's origins, it has a beautiful, haunting, magical melody and reassuring lyrics. I used to sing it (not nearly as beautifully as the professionals) to my children when they were babies. I still hum it to myself when I need a few moments to clear my head at the end of a very busy day. I'm certain that passing strangers have thought me a madwoman humming it softly, when I'm on an airplane. But, it's comforting, it's peaceful and it's familiar. It takes me back to days of having a newborn curled up into my side, and to simpler moments in the journey of parenthood.

In an age in which sleep disorders are at an all time high, is it any wonder that I'm attracted to a lullaby? In any coffee shop, at any meeting or at any parents' group gathering, the most common topic is how exhausted everyone is. It appears that no one I know sleeps well, myself included. Sleep disorder clinics are on the rise, and many have waiting lists. Prescriptions for sleep aid drugs, such as Ambien, are 5 times what they were just ten years ago. The Center for Disease Control, as well as numerous Health Service agencies, recommend that adults get between 7 and 9 hours of sleep per night. The AMA set forth these reasons why adults need an average of 8 hours of sleep per night: good sleep may reduce your risk of depression, of diseases, of maintaining a healthy weight (and blood pressure), of bolstering memory, of increased synaptic activity during the day, may help prevent cancer and may assist in your body's repairing of injuries. These are perfectly understandable and straight forward benefits...And yet, if we can't fall asleep, or remain sleeping 'all through the night', how can we reap the benefits of good sleep habits?

For many of us, there is an inability to shut off our brains when it's night time. The majority of us walk around overstimulated most of the day. We have to-do lists that exceed our ability, we are bombarded by media (from radio to television to the Internet) all day long and we feel constantly behind if we aren't being 'productive' at every waking moment. We have worries that range from small issues (such as a child's nasty teacher) to larger ones (such as the current financial crisis). We are deeply concerned about politics, the environment, war, famine, disease, plane crashes and a plethora of other globally impacting issues that are beyond our control. Is it any wonder that our bodies are exhausted but our minds are still reeling from the ramifications of the day's events....either to our own lives, or to the world at large? As a result, we drink an awful lot of coffee to perk us in the morning, only to find we need that caffeine the rest of the day. The caffeine in our systems is another reason we may have a difficult time 'switching off' at night. Just as there are health benefits to 'good sleeping', there are negative ones to lack of sleep: inability to focus and concentrate, loss of memory ability, loss of job performance, poor health and increased risks for nearly every health complication. If worrying about aspects of our lives is enough to keep us awake, it's amazing how many of us lie in bed at night, worried about our not being able to fall asleep!

There are many schools of thought on achieving a good night's sleep that lasts "all through the night". Some doctors do recommend drugs, used in the short term, to help 'jump start' one's body into sleeping well. My own experience, while I was a cancer patient, was so negative with these drugs, that I have a hard time understanding the benefits. I found an increase in the ability to fall asleep, but was beset by nightmares. Therefore, I have a difficult time recommending them to others. There are also homeopathic versions of sleep aids that some people have found to be incredibly helpful. I found them to be less harsh on my overactive psyche, but they were also less effective in helping me fall asleep. This journey led me to find other methods in sleep enhancement.

Ruling out all chemical and/or locational disruptive sources is the first rule of thumb. I've discovered that not having any caffeine (including chocolate) after lunch can make a huge difference. I've also learned which foods simply do not allow me to rest easily. As much as I crave spicy food all day, when my eyes are wide awake, staring at the dog snoring at 2 AM, I realize that the Kung Pao Chicken was not my best choice for a late snack. Another culprit can be all the lights we all have on in our rooms. My bedroom is equal parts sleeping space, office and family room. Therefore, we have a great deal of electronic equipment in our room. From the TV to the DVD player to the computer (and all its components) to the Wii and multiple phones, our room is a veritable fortress of technology. All of these gizmo's emit wave frequencies that can actually be stimulating. I make certain, at this point, to have everything as turned off as possible, since it's simply not within my space limitations to remove it all from my room (though that's what's recommended by most sleep specialists). Establishing a routine can also be helpful: a cup of a herbal tea, a book, the same music each evening and a warm bath, can all set the mood for a good night's sleep...particularly when done every night.


Finally, one of the ways I have learned to turn off my hamster wheel, chihuahua yapping brain is to count my blessings. Unlike the old method of counting sheep (which I've done to infinity without effect), counting our blessings, no matter how slight or small, can be a way to counteract the effects of an anxious mind. By reminding ourselves of all the good things in our lives, of the good fortune in our days, of the way we were able to aid others and of the largesse that came our way, we can remember why we have earned our rest. I don't just express my gratitude for a financial or professional boon. I just try to express my thankfulness at being alive and well for one more day. I am grateful that I did not have a car accident and that my children are remaning safe in their travels. I'm able to be happy that the sun did shine, or that a beautiful snow fell. I'm appreciative to have eyes that can see, ears that can hear and hands that can be put to good use. No matter how irrational my fears, I can content myself with the knowledge that, at this very moment, I am safe, I am well and I am protected. I find that, as I can express in my heart, each of the blessings that have come my way, my eyelids begin to droop...and I gently begin to fall asleep. The main idea is just let the blessings come to my mind; rather than creating yet another 'list' to be mentally gone over.

I wish each of you a good night's sleep tonight. May you feel loved, may you feel peaceful and most of all, may you feel sleepy.