Peaceful Daily Blog

Friend Power

The June 22, 2009  issue of the Archives of Internal Medicine came to the conclusion that the more socially active you are, the longer you’ll live.  A groundbreaking study from UCLA in 2002, implies that  friendships between women are more than special.  Scientists who authored the study believe that spending time with friends can actually reverse stress because of the cascade of hormones that are released in women’s brains when they are interacting with friends.

The health benefits of strong friendship bonds aren’t exactly surprising.  Friends offer us a primary support system along with our families and mates.  They balance the emotional blanks we may have in our other relationships.  They also offer us the opportunity to care and nurture another human being. 

Peace, Joan

Markers

Indelible ones like your first kiss or your last good-bye.

 

I have been trying to live my life fully. Spending each moment of each day with thought and care for that moment itself, and it sounds a bit harder to do than it really is. It is a conscious thought that makes a life style change for many of us that zing through our day, before catching our breath to see what has happened since we left the house in the morning.

 

My life is like any of yours, complicated and hectic, but I made a commitment to “take over” and it’s going pretty well!

 

I love setting new Markers…I make more time for the needs of my friends, and I focus harder at work. I permit lazy time, just a bit, for each day and remember to just breathe.  I stay in touch with folks that I love, by telephone, email and social networking. I smile wider and faster, and laugh harder.

 

Small and big markers have been coming and going and I love participating fully each day.  Some of those markers are tough, too. I have a partnership with the world though and I truly feel I can get through each day with the support and love I find so easily in this universe.

 

Peace to each one of you that reads this blog. Peace to you when you are giddy, confused, crying, frustrated, joyful and just plain in love.  Peace is there to take from all those you love around you and, most of all, inside yourself.

 

Elizabeth

Breaking News....

This just in:  It seems that women across the world are suffering.  Suffering from something so awful that a team of experts have banned together to solve this problem.  I am talking about (insert menacing sound cue) INADEQUATE EYELASHES!

But no need to panic.  There is a new drug out there, with celebrity endorsement,  that can help.  Sure, there is risk and sometimes irreversible side effects, but you will have long beautiful lashes.  

I didn't even know the quality of my life was being effected by my short stubby eyelashes.  I am so glad money went toward research and development for this product rather then on ..I don't know...cancer.

The truth is I buy some products because I think I need them.  This really opened my eyelash deficient eyes to where I  m manipulated to feel inadequate and into thinking a product or service will make me better or more complete.  I look forward to a day when we collectively know we are good enough short eyelashes and all.

Namaste

Krissy

New Kid on the Block

On Wednesday, I was scheduled to teach a class at an established studio that opened a second asana space and needed more instructors. As I had recently resigned from another studio, I was thrilled to join this new community, bringing some of my students along to mingle with a whole new crowd of yogis. The auspicious day, however, became memorable for all of the wrong reasons.

 

To begin with, the owner of the studio was there when I arrived 15 minutes before the class; I wanted to learn the procedures for signing folks in to class, opening and closing the studio and all other pertinent functions. Rather than being able to spend any appreciable time with me, however, the owner was running around, attempting to corral the three young children who were romping around the new space, throwing handfuls of Cheerios everywhere and attempting to sneak out of the door when mom was not looking. I patiently watched the mother-child ritual, hoping for a small window of opportunity to ask some questions. The owner quickly talked through the basics of the studio and then grabbed the kids and left; I didn’t even receive a key to lock up. The capper on the evening was the fact that no one showed up for class. I know that a new teacher and a newly scheduled class are not big draws, but I expected at least ONE curious person to show. And where were my “loyal” students, the ones who had clamored for me to find a new space when I resigned my previous position? Nowhere to be found…

 

Although my pride was injured, I spent the rest of the night at home reflecting upon the dreadful first experience. I realized that my ego had been wounded when no one showed up for the class. I reminded myself that the class is NOT about me; the students are the reason that I do what I do, and if they are not there, so be it. I should be thankful when they do attend and want to share a practice with me. I vowed to relinquish my attachment to my ego and just accept that some night there are zero students and other nights there are fifteen.

 

Good thing I made that vow, too, because the following evening, I was enlisted to sub a class for another instructor. Again, no one arrived for class. I handled this episode with much more grace and humility, especially since this was not one of my regularly scheduled classes. I did, however, run into another ugly aspect of studio teaching: lack of respect for others. Once again, I arrived early for the class, to help people sign in and to be there to introduce myself before class. The class before mine was scheduled to end 15 minutes before my start time. I peered into the studio ten minutes before class and saw that the instructor and her students were still in the space, engaged in discussion. No problem, since no one had yet appeared for my class. Then, five minutes before class, I looked again and the teacher and students were standing around chatting about life. That’s fine, but could you do that in the foyer or hall, so I can set up for class? Finally, at the appointed start time of my class (still no students!), I entered the space and was greeted with an icy stare from the instructor. She asked if I had a class in there and I replied that I did. Instead of excusing herself, she went right on talking! I quietly set up my mat and dimmed the lights to the desired level, and still she continued her banter with a student. About five minutes later, the student left and the instructor took her time gathering up her mat, her bag and then continued to linger in the space. I got up and closed one of the two doors to the room, hoping that she might understand that the next class was imminent. She looked at me and curtly said, “When does this class start?” I told her about five minutes ago. She offered no apology and made no discernible attempt to go. She said that next time, she would try and remember that another class was starting at this time. I had no response. After she left and I was once again without students, I pondered the way that I had been “welcomed” to this studio so far: the owner could barely find time for me, students were not coming and one of my peers lacked the courtesy to exit the room when my class was going to start. A rough start, I would say.

 

Next week, I will give it another try. I hope that students will come; if not, I look forward to a time when they can. I hope that my fellow instructors are welcoming; if not, perhaps I need to make the effort to break the ice and extend a friendly hand. In the end, I am like a new kid who arrives in an elementary school class: I need to take my lumps before I am accepted.

 

 

 

Peace,

 

Trent

 

Dogs will be Dogs

We got a dog last Christmas.  We did all the things you're supposed to do --- research and read, consult the vet, even check with my daughter's pediatrician.  We had family meetings and plans and scouting missions.  Six months of preparations for one spectacular Christmas morning.
My daughter, an only child, had initially approached us about the dog.  Her big brown eyes sealed my fate when she explained, "It would be like having the brother or sister I will never have."  I had to use every bit of restraint not to run down to the local maternity ward and bribe a nurse to let me borrow one of the newborns for a while.  Afterward, my husband was afraid that every questioning look I gave him would lead to "the baby conversation" again.

And so it was decided we would get a dog.  For months leading up to the big event, we all began to get a picture of what this dog would be like.  For my daughter, a playmate and someone to grow up with.  For me, someone to cuddle and baby, not to mention ease some of that aforementioned guilt.  For my husband... well, giving in could mean a lot of nights free to play video games with no one to bother him. After all, he never wanted a dog in the first place.

We rescued the dog from an animal shelter and had one of the most magical holiday mornings ever.  My daughter tossed squeaky toys around, I snuggled with the dog on the sofa, and my husband watched football in peace, with no one begging him to put "Rudolph" in the DVD player for the 30th time.
Our dog, Moon, began to get comfortable in the family.  And that's when her personality began to show.  A dominant, aggressive personality.  She growled.  She curled her lip.  She snapped if you got too close to her toys.  I began to be afraid, not wanting her alone with my daughter.  We brought her to dog trainer after trainer, but the problems seemed to escalate.  Finally, one trainer told us to give the dog back.  Heartbroken, I wasn't sure what to do.  My fantasy of what a dog would be like and how she would fit in our family was rapidly fading.

Before making a decision that could have potentially landed me in the "world's most horrible mother "category, I decided to feel my daughter out .
"Maggie, how are you feeling about Moon?  She is not so much fun right now, huh?"
"Not so much, Mommy."
I nodded.  "Not what you thought owning a dog would be like."
"No," Maggie replied, and then she said something that shocked me.  "But Moon is just the best dog I could ever imagine."
My eyes teared.  For the life of me, I could not see what it was that my daughter liked about Moon.  The dog jumped up on everyone (Maggie worst of all), she ate all of Maggie's toys, she barked and bit if you got too close.  Maggie wasn't even allowed to hug her own dog without my husband or I standing guard.

Finally, in what we thought would be a futile attempt, we saw one more trainer. I cried my heart out to him about the woes of my wayward dog.  Stone-faced, the trainer just looked at me and asked "And?" 
And? Did he not just hear me? My dog was not the cuddly baby I had imagined!  

"Of course," he agreed.  "She's not the baby you imagined, because... well, because she's a dog."

I stared at him.  And that's when I got it.  That's when it suddenly made sense to me, how Maggie could love Moon in a way that I hadn't been able to.  Because Maggie saw this little animal for what the little animal was, not what we all wanted her to be.  In that sense she was the best dog ever --- the best Moon. 

In the weeks that followed, the trainer continued to teach me what Maggie already taught me.  Treat Moon like a dog --- the dog she is --- not my hopes and dreams and unfulfilled wishes.  In that moment, I saw Moon for her own being, not my expectations.  While she is not perfect, treating her this way has helped her to relax and live as her real self.  No pressures to be more than who she is.  Now she is happier.  We all are happier.
The experience made me wonder.  Do I sometimes do this same thing with the humans in my life --- expecting them to fulfill some ideal of my own, instead of just allowing them to be themselves, with no expectations?  So now, when I find myself in struggle with someone, I will remember the early days of Moon, and I will ask myself if I am "allowing" or "expecting."  And if I can honestly answering "allowing," and there is still conflict, I will make peace by giving them a meaty treat.

Namaste

Krissy