You Win Some When You Lose Some: A Father’s Day Tribute

Posted on by stilllearning2b
Ice skating with dad

Three years ago next month, I lost my husband. Three years ago next month, I gained a father.

My parent’s divorce occurred when I was in elementary school. My dad then relocated across the country shortly after I turned 11. We did not see much of each other for the rest of my childhood or throughout my twenties. In fact, we didn’t really know each other.

Three years ago next month, I went to visit my dad for the first time in several years. I think we were both a little nervous, as were trying to learn the choreography of our adult relationship. I was with him when I received the text that ended my marriage. In that instant, I gained a father in the truest sense of the word.

With no hesitation, I became his little girl again. He moved into action immediately, doing what he could . He held my hand for the endless trip back to Atlanta, not even letting go when he drifted off to sleep on the plane. He made the phone calls I couldn’t and stayed in the house with the dogs when I wasn’t able. He cried with me and cursed with me. He hurt with me and he healed with me.

Three years ago next month, I gained a father. A guide. A cheerleader. A mentor. A friend.

Sometimes, it takes a loss to realize what you have. You win some when you lose some. Dad, I’m glad I won you:)

And Tiger’s looking forward to your visit too!

Tiger is excited to meet his granddaddy!

Sweat and Tears

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Tears for Norway .....

The tears were close to the surface this morning.

Tears of frustration born from his decisions nickel and diming away my future.

Tears of anger at myself for falling for his swindle.

Tears of shame at how I am perceived as I act as the face of his mess

While he continues to run away.

I welcomed the hot breathe of the yoga studio today,

Seeking purification and strength within its walls.

I set my intention, looking for acceptance.

I was told to “let it go,”

But I held on for dear life.

As I pressed into my first down dog,the hot tears formed furrows

In the beads of sweat rolling down my face.

I struggled to keep my breath as the sobs stole the rhythm from my vinyasa,

The body trying to share its wisdom with the mind.

“Feel deeper,” echoed the instructor’s voice as we were bent over in a forward fold,

The tap-tap-tap of sweat hitting the floor telling the tales of the heat.

“You will not be given more than you can bear.”

My hips felt like they were being wrenched apart,

Following in the footsteps of my heart.

“Let it go.”

I breathed into the pain, trying to soften.

“Don’t let the difficulty opening the hips translate to tension in the neck;”

“Don’t let something that is challenging destroy something which is working beautifully.”

Folding into child’s pose, I took a moment and let that soak in.

My current struggle is temporary, my gratitude is not.

“Let it go”

I walked out of the studio, the pouring summer rains,

Washing the sweat and tears from my enlightened body.

Ready to sever the final ugly tie to the past,

Trusting that the price will not be too much to bear.

I am ready

to let it go.

;

;

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When Can I Call Myself a Writer?

Posted on by stilllearning2b

penulis = writer

Labels are such interesting little buggers.  Those simple words, either self-applied or applied by others that seem to form our self-concept and either expand or limit how we see ourselves.

I recently had someone refer to me as a writer. It gave me pause, as I have not thought of myself that way.

Until my husband left, I never wrote anything that wasn’t assigned by a teacher or professor. I suppose I was okay, but I never felt compelled to write and certainly never had a passion for it. As soon as he left, I purchased a spiral notebook and a green pen (the green was very important at the time). And I began to write. The writing was purgative, words never meant to be seen by another. However, I was putting pen to paper under my own volition. Is one a writer by act regardless of purpose or intended audience?

Was I a writer then?

In those early weeks, as I saw the shock and interest in the faces of the police and attorneys, I realized that this story needed to be told. The writing left the spiral notebook and went on a pilgrimage to the computer, where it began to be crafted into a book. Those words were only shared with a select few and were never fully formed into finished chapters. Is one a writer when crafting for an audience, even if imaginary and existing in some ambiguous future?

Was I a writer then?

Almost two years went by without much progress on the book. As I felt driven to write again, I decided to start this blog. Apparently people read it. Did I become a writer when my words were posted in the public domain?

Was I a writer then?

Now, I have been published in the Huffington Post. Let me pause here for a brief interlude. Oh. My. God. I am in the Huff Post. Deep breath.  So.  Freakin.  Surreal.  Okay, now I can continue. Does being asked to contribute to a major publication make one a writer?

Am I a writer now?

At some point, I would love to be paid to write. Is receiving remuneration for authorship services required of one who is designated as a writer. In other words, does the IRS need to see me as a writer in order for me to qualify?

Will I be a writer then?

How about when my book is completed and published (hey, now, I’ve got to dream big!!)?

Will I be a writer then?

It is strange how writing has permeated my life these last three years when it has been all but absent for the previous 31 (okay, so I actually couldn’t write for the first few of those…). I spend time every day mentally composing and then crafting posts. I enjoy the process of writing and I love hearing feedback from those who read my words. Writing has become a way to reflect and to share.  It is now both purgative and restorative.  At this point, it has become part of who I am.  I feel like I’ve embodied its spirit to the point where I cannot imagine its exit from my life.  I think that is what makes me a writer.

Death of a Shared Past, or Why Fluid Dynamics Makes Me Smile Alone

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Several years ago, my then husband and I were on the interstate heading out to our weekly Costco run. The roads were packed and traffic was doing that infuriating start-stop thing where we averaged about .87 mph. I took that opportunity to share the information from an article I had read that applied the theory of fluid dynamics to traffic congestion (disclaimer for those new to the site: I am a geek). I was excited about the research, animated. I used the cars around us to demonstrate the ideas in the article. He thought I was bit nuts. From that point forward, every time we were stuck in traffic, he would make a joke about “damn fluid dynamics.” It became part of our shared past.

Traffic Congestion

I am an only child and I have lost contact will all of my childhood friends. My ex was the only person in my peer group that spanned across the decades of my life. I do not miss him, but I do miss the shared past. I now have entire mental storerooms of jokes and remembrances and no one to share them with. I am building a new shared past with my current partner, but, by definition, it takes time to build a history.

But for now, when I am stuck in traffic, I think of fluid dynamics and smile alone.

Intensity

Posted on by stilllearning2b
Piquance
Piquance (Photo credit: JasonUnbound)

A new study suggests that consuming intensely flavored, such as pungent cheeses or spicy foods can help you eat less. This principle is true with any sort of intensity, whether it be diet, exercise, or emotional in nature. By definition, something that is intense is strong, pushing itself to the forefront of your consciousness. This makes it hard to ignore and brings forth mindfulness of the action, something which may not occur with more sedate stimuli. Intensity also cannot be maintained for long, which can be used for your benefit. Here are some suggestions on how to use intensity to improve your well-being:

Diet: Think of ways to pump up the flavor in your dishes. Add spices, hot sauce, olives, or strong cheeses in small amounts to bring forth stronger, more noticeable flavor. This makes it much harder to overindulge; just think about the difference between eating milk chocolate and dark chocolate, the latter being much more intense. I used to be the queen of bland food, but I have found the joys of small nibbles of big flavor.

Exercise: Try interval training. Personally, I find that I get much better fat-burning results from a 20 minute sprinting session, Tabata sprints, or kettlebell intervals than I do from hour long steady-state runs. Think about how you can pump up the intensity in your own workouts either by limiting rest time or working harder.

Emotions: Sometimes we try to avoid feeling an emotion intensely and we end up feeling a low level of it for a long time. There is nothing wrong with letting yourself feel strongly, and you will probably feel better for it. (Note: Anger is one emotion that may need to be doled out or carefully expressed to avoid harming yourself or others). I know I often feel purges and refreshed after an intense cry, whereas if I avoid the cathartic tears, I just end up feeling “blue” for several days.

Even though intensity can be uncomfortable, it will make you leaner, stronger, and more balanced in the end.

 

 

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