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Today I would like to talk about life.

In massage school all of my teachers talked about being present. Paying attention to the muscles that you are working on. They called it 'listening'. I struggled with it. I was worried about doing the stroke right, looking at the clock, worried about the draping, my mind was everywhere.

One of the classes I took was Thai Chi. The instructors name was Clint. Clint is a hippie with long curly hair and a big bushy beard. His laugh is infectious, nobody doesnt love Clint. He was explaining Thai Chi to us and explained that it is meditation in motion. Thai Chi is what all the old people do in the park, slow moving weirdness. I love Thai Chi. Thai Chi also was the one way that got me out of my mind and into the present. Since the moves are done so slow it is close to impossible to think of anything else. Clint told me that if you are thinking about the next move before you have done it, you are moving to fast. He gave me a packet on meditation. I started to practice meditation, at first it was seconds that I could sit still and focus on my breathing. As I continued to practice it became longer and longer. I am still not very good at it, but, I am always improving.

I tried to put the practice of Thai Chi into my life. Standing in line with all of the angry people, I would take a few deep breaths and think about what kind of state my mind was in. Sure enough it was raging about everything. "Why isnt this line moving?!" "If they just got another person I would have been out of here 5 minutes ago!" I would stop and calm myself down, remind myself that I have been behind a counter working as hard as I could to keep the line moving faster. So I would breathe, focus on my posture, let my shoulders relax (they were next to my ears the first few times) un-clench my jaw, relax my forehead and accept the fact that I would be in line until I left. It made my life so wonderful. By the time I would get to the register I would be smiling and relaxed, the person would be fumbling for something and frantically apologizing, I would smile and tell them to relax. They would smile back and continue to help me very pleasantly and quickly.

While I was working at Starbucks one of my co-workers, Jaek, decided he would study buddhism, he then decided to put it into practice. Jaek is a wonderful person, he inspires me all the time to be a better person. I would watch him interact with people that I know he didnt like and smile the whole time. We would often talk about his practice and meditation. He started to go to the Zen Center for meditation. A few weeks ago I picked up some friends and took them to run some errands with me. A sound came from Jaeks phone and it got my attention. I asked him what it was, he told me it was his mindfulness tone. I was driving at the time and I noticed my shoulders were up around my ears (again) and I was in a hurry even though I had nowhere to be. I took some deep breaths and noticed it was a beautiful day, and I had just gotten paid. I smiled and asked him where he got it so I could get one too. I downloaded it for free from the android market. My mindfulness tone goes off about every half hour, it saves me all the time. Mostly when I am at home with my dogs trying to be the calm-assertive 'pack leader' without loosing my temper.

I would like to invite all of you to do the same, Jer makes fun of me for having the tone because it 'distracts' him. But that is the idea. To remind you to be present in whatever you are doing.

Also, Nate how are my paragraphs?

Bath time with dad...

So this evening I drew a hot bath to curl up in and do some studying for class later in the week. (On a side note, I think I've resolved on a dissertation topic, but that's beside the point.) The dogs came in to see what I was doing, since I had left one of the doors to the bathroom open. They would peek at me suspiciously from the other side of the bathroom, looking at me with a quizzical look in their eyes.

Part way through my bath Captain Blackbeard came by the tub and propped himself up on the edge to look at the water. A few short seconds later, he was in the tub with me, curled up in my lap. I couldn't contain my laughter and had to have Annie come in to see the soaking wet cairn. He wouldn't leave the tub, so I pulled the stopper and let the water drain out. Captain stood at attention and watched the drain, trying to figure out what this previously inconspicuous beast was that was noisily gobbling up his warm water. Only after the water was gone, and a few dull rumbles were coming from the pipe did Captain allow his mom to pick him up and bundle him into the towels.

A few minutes later I sit on the couch typing this. Captain just hopped in the tub one more time to investigate, but found that the drain beast had fallen silent.

Mercifully, there are no photos.

Dogs and Family

Breakfast time wasn't terribly long ago for the kids dogs (which is terrifying since I know that by the time I post this, we'll be well into lunchtime). We have to feed them separately on account of their wildly different eating behavior which means that if left to their own devices, one would be dying of starvation while the other would roughly have the figure of a basketball.

First came feeding our oldest (or at least the one that has been in our family the longest) dog, Captain Blackbeard. Getting him to eat is always a bit of a challenge. I have to physically position him in front of his bowl and make him stand over it like a child in time out until he gets the message that its time to eat. Its almost as if he feels like he needs to think about what he's done long before he can swallow a mouthful. I could be wrong, maybe he's saying grace and I just don't have any respect, but we'll leave that for someone else to decide. Invariably, Captain leaves about half of his food behind when he's been eating. Then you lead him back to his bowl, and once again he leaves half and walks away. On a good day we repeat this pattern until he is only leaving about 12.5% of his breakfast behind.

Our second dog, Ein is the exact opposite. I have to physically bar her from the kitchen until the food is on the floor. This morning she sat at the door of the kitchen with her head on the linoleum floor and a great puddle of drool expanding underneath her chin. The dog was visibly shivering with excitement by the time I finally invited her into the kitchen to have some breakfast. Doggie seizures of joy! At that point, she began wolfing down her food as quickly as she could, not even stopping long enough to chew the bite that was in her mouth. About half way through her breakfast, she choked herself on un-chewed food and began hacking and wheezing over the dish. Rather than stopping, she resolved the gagging by piling more food on over the top of it, evidently clearing the clog in her throat by force of additional un-chewed food being thrust into her gullet at critical velocity.

It occurred to me that living with dogs like this with such vastly different personalities is like living with my extended family. My mother-in-law, for example, has to think about eating something for a while. It sits on the counter and waits for her, while she wanders around the kitchen; either trying to decipher the rumbling in her tummy, or more likely taking care of the rest of us. Then, when she finally does decide to eat, she invariably cuts the item in half, consumes half, and leaves the other on the counter for later.

Meanwhile, poor Ein eats like my mother does many things in her life. Right after we were married Annie and I went on a vacation with my folks, and dad had over-exerted himself with a little too much hiking on one day of the trip. Mom's response was, "You know what would help you feel better? More hiking!"

Choking on your breakfast that you tried to swallow whole? You know what would fix that? More breakfast! Or, we could go with the other side of the family's solution, and just cut it in half and leave it be.

Epiphany

As I was getting ready for work this morning I had an epiphany and I feel like I should share it with you. I have always had a bad body image. I have no idea where it came from. I have started a new job and meeting new people. One day last week I noticed one of my co-workers profiles. I am the ripe old age of 24 and 3/4 ;) She is my age, maybe a few years younger, but not much. What I noticed was her behind. Instantly I thought 'her butt looks like my butt' . Excuse me while I digress. My behind has been described by many (men and women) as 'cute' some have called it a 'booty' my nick-name in Jr. High was 'hot-buns'....you get the idea. As the day went on I noticed my reflection in one of the many full-length mirrors at work. My behind did not look like hers. It looked....different. It is not saggy (yet) but it is not as 'bubbly' as hers, 'maybe it is my pants, they are a little big' I thought. My day quickly ended and I went home, and changed into my comfy clothes (sweatpants and a tank top) and yet again looked in the mirror. Alas. My ass was still different. I started to worry, and thought about counting calories, maybe I should do weight watchers again. But life happened and I tried not to notice my butt. Then. Today it hit me. Let me just say I am no playboy bunny. I have a womans body. Not a 25 year old body but the body that comes with the joy of motherhood. When I was young I was petite, I did not fit into the clothes at 'Limited Too' until I was 13. I might have fit into a 00 then. I remember one Christmas my mom had purchased me some very cute pants, in the size I was wearing at that time. By the time I got to put them on I had grown out of that size. I didnt understand. I didnt gain any weight. My pants didnt fit. I struggled with the idea that I needed bigger pants. As time went on I accepted that size (I didnt stay there long) I came to rest in my size 7 pants, I figured that is where I would stay. The 'powers that be' had different plans. I watched my body that was no longer my own change once again. I watched my belly grow. At first my jeans felt tight, then they were tight, then, they were uncomfortable, I did the 'rubberband trick' then that stopped working. I cried as I bought maternity jeans. I bought one pair. Eventually they didnt fit. After I had my baby I watched my breasts fill with milk making my D cups become monsters. I didnt wear a bra until my milk dried up, about two weeks. I lost a cup size, I was 21 with saggy boobs. Once again, my body changed. It was mine again, but it was shrivled, and stretched. As always time passed (thank goodness) and my body 'normalized' . Slowly my stomach began to shrink, my breasts firmed up. I lost the baby weight, and then gained it back, and then some. At my largest I weighed 200 lbs. I was determined to get back to my pre-pregnancy weight of 130, size 7. I would loose weight and then gain it back, and then loose it and gain it back. Then, today, It dawned on me. I will never again wear a size 7. I will probably not weigh 130 ever again, unless I am very sick. After some time passes, my body will change once again, with every pregnancy, and eventualy with menopause. Then again, as I age. So if you have continued reading this, I realized that most of my body image issues acutally stem from very natural changes that I had never even thought of. So, no I do not have a 'booty' anymore, I dont know what I have...but I think I am finally ok with it.