Uttanasana

This evening my yoga instructor asked us to dedicate our exercise to a positive thought for someone. It may be a bit selfish, but I chose myself. I haven't done yoga in such a long time, so I felt like I needed to push my positive energy towards reestablishing my focus.

My yoga instructor is a really beautiful, sweet woman whose name I always forget because I can't pronounce it. She tells us that the lessons we learn in yoga can be transferred to our everyday life, and I definitely believe this. There was a time in my life when I was really disciplined in yoga; I did it twice a day. I slept better, I woke up feeling more refreshed, I had better posture, and I felt more able to focus. Yoga forces you to just be with yourself--your thoughts and your body. It's more difficult than it sounds for someone whose mind is often going a mile a minute. This is exactly why yoga is so good for someone with my personality--I tend to multi-task TOO much. It's one thing to multi-task in order to get through an especially busy law school day, it's quite another to multi-task when I genuinely have nothing to do (it's rare, but it happens). Just to illustrate this point, as I'm typing this blog I am also watching TV, drinking wine, texting a friend, and getting up intermittently to straighten my hair. I don't know why I insist on living like this, when I could just straighten my hair, THEN write this blog, THEN watch the episode while drinking my wine, that way I'd be giving separate attention to each (as far as the texting goes, let's be honest, I'm doing it all day everyday anyway). Yoga is just as much about meditation as it is about exercise, so, in the past, it has helped me become more disciplined in my focus. Some poses, such as Balasana or Savasana require you to literally just stay still and think. This was weird to me at first; I remember looking around the room wondering how everyone could just be for that long. No music, no TV, no texting. The more I did it though, the more I enjoyed it. It's an hour, twice a week now, where I am forced to shut everything off. And man, do I need it. From the time I wake up in the morning until the time I go to sleep, I am going, going, going, even if the "going" merely refers to thoughts in my head.

I have Joby to thank for introducing me to the loveliness of yoga. I know for a fact that she watches movies while doing her yoga, but she's got a kid so it's different. Multi-tasking is on a whole different level when you're a mom. You take the time you can get.

Jerk

My mom loves to tell this story: When I was 3 years old, she and I took a nap together (anyone who knows my mother also is familiar with her love of naps. It's genetic). Immediately before said nap, I had apparently overheard my mother talking to her friend about how badly she needed a haircut but that she could not afford it. Well, I woke up earlier than her...and played hairdresser. 5 inches seemed about right.

Now, when my mom tells this story, she tells it with a loving tone. "She was just trying to help her mama out!" But to me, it's just an example of a kid being a jerk. And let's be honest here, that's probably exactly what my mom thought immediately upon waking up and looking in the mirror. She's had almost 20 years to get over the initial anger.

I love that she tells this story though. It reminds me that kids are not in my near future...and when they are, I most certainly will not be discussing my beauty needs in front of them.

Over-Analysis

Sometimes I worry that the only reason I want the things I want in life is because I feel like those are the things I should want.

Confusing? I agree.

I guess I just have a fear that I'll be 72 someday and realize I didn't do anything genuine or unique or truly of my own freewill.

In any case, I should be sleeping and not ruminating over my laptop in the dark. Sleeping may not be unique, but man do I love doing it.

Rome

Debt scares the hell out of me. You'd think that by this point in my life I'd be used to it, what with massive amounts of student loans. Nope. Every time I use my credit card, even if it's for something completely necessary or a total bargain, I get a panicky feeling. I'd like to think I'm good with money for the most part. I mean, I don't shop frivolously or make big purchases (although my food-and-alcohol addiction leaves much to be desired). But for all of my frugality and coupon-shopping I still can't help the fact that I have loans and credit card debt. Some of you out there may respond with "Yes, you can help it!" I assure you though, I cannot. If it weren't for student loans I would not be where I am right now in my education. Sure, I would have loved to have saved money before school, or to have been able to supplement my loans with some sort of outside income, but it just wasn't in the cards. My pre-college jobs at California Pizza Kitchen, a law office, and Reprise did little more than pad my resume, and my during-college jobs at various locations really only helped satisfy my before-mentioned food-and-alcohol addiction. I know I shouldn't stress about the student loans--after all, they've allowed me to get an education and live a far more interesting life than I could have otherwise--however, the thought of paying them back terrifies me. I don't want to be a slave to my loan payments. I want to be able to buy a house, have nice things, live comfortably, travel everywhere. I'm getting off track though, as what I really wanted to talk about was that last goal--traveling.

I have a somewhat embarrassing confession. I'm reading "Eat, Pray, Love." I say embarrassing because I feel like I've hopped on some bandwagon, what with the craze around the movie ever-escalating. Alas, my friend Joby suggested it to me, and being that she has never failed to suggest things I love, be it movies or books or purses, I thought it wise to give it a shot. There's this paragraph where the author talks about travel in a way that made me literally say out loud, "That's how I feel!" She says, "...traveling is the great true love of my life. I have always felt, ever since I was sixteen years old and first went to Russia with my saved-up babysitting money, that to travel is worth any cost or sacrifice. I am loyal and constant in my love for travel, as I have not always been loyal and constant in my other loves." And how fitting that this description is set in Rome, the very place that solidified my travel obsession! I know, I know, "obsession" may require actually doing the activity, but for now, in the midst of law school, all I can do it daydream and plan. Anyway, I love the part about cost and sacrifice. In a small period of time, from November of 2007 until January of 2008, I went to New York City, Germany, and Italy for the first time. It was so memorable, so fun, so exciting! I don't regret that I am still paying those trips off because they were just so, so worth it. For all my money stress and anxiety, I would not give those travels up. Hopefully someday I will be able to pick back up on it, and hopefully by then I'll be able to do it on my own savings and not credit.

I just have to try to remind myself that the debts I've incurred so far in life aren't anything to be ashamed of. It's not like I'm out buying designer purses...I'm educating myself, both in the traditional sense and the cultural sense. Now if only I could balance it out with a little more travel and a little less law...someday, maybe.

On Being Alone

"Lonely is a freedom that breathes easy and weightless and lonely is healing if you make it."

There are two sides of me that are sometimes difficult to reconcile. One day I can be the most extroverted person ever, but the next I'll want nothing to do with people at all--in fact, the mere thought of needing to make conversation will seem exhausting. Being alone started out as something I was merely comfortable with and has slowly morphed into a requirement in my life. I need some time to just sit in my apartment and read, or cook, or sleep, or dance, or write, or watch mindless TV. Alone. There is something to be said about doing these activities with someone else, but most of the time I really savor being with myself. I used to think this made me weird in some way, but I'm coming to think of it as an asset. I know plenty of people who can't do a damn thing on their own. I'm sure you know of such a person. They're always texting you to go to the grocery store or the park or the gym with them. Again, there is something to be said about having companionship, but independence is good too. I remember the first time I went to a movie by myself. It felt odd at first, especially when people kept asking if the seat next to me was taken. But after the second time around, I pretty much realized I prefer that activity alone. I mean, why not? I get to choose the movie, choose the time, choose the theatre, and I don't have to wait around for someone else's taste, mood, and schedule to sync with mine. This all came about after a friend and I promised to see a movie together, but she kept flaking everytime we made plans. The movie was about to leave the theatre for good when I finally had the epiphany that I should just go see it myself.

Besides "outside" activities though, I also just love hanging out at my apartment. Living alone was the best decision I made. First of all, there are two things about me that make it difficult to have roommates: I'm very organized and I'm a light sleeper. So I've molded my apartment into a sort of comfort haven for myself (that's what our home is supposed to be anyway, right?) When I think of my apartment I think of good food and a comfortable bed. I love entertaining and sharing this with people, but I sometimes find myself (during the social event) looking forward to when they leave and I can have my space back. Ha! Maybe it's just the stressful time in my life and the fact that I am clinging to familiar comforts. In any case, as I sit here on my couch, still in my pajamas, with my laptop and my tea and the sun (thankfully!), I feel nothing but contentment. I like the fact that I can be happy like this...really, really happy. And if someone calls me right now to invite me out, then great. But, if they don't, I'll be fine with that too. Besides, I'm getting behind on my "Thriller" dance practice.

Please watch this if you haven't before: "How To Be Alone" 

Lessons

I always tell people "Don't regret any relationship; think of them as lessons." As with most advice I hand out, it's hard to actually take it myself. For the most part though, I think I've been able to recognize the issues (mine or his) from past relationships. There is one relationship in particular though--an especially bad one--that makes me cringe everytime I think about it. It's been years since we've been broken up, and I don't ever see the guy, but I can't help feeling ridiculous when I think about how long I stuck around. That's the main reason for this post. I'm trying to overcome that feeling, and remind myself that it was an experience...one worth remembering, if for nothing else than to avoid a similar situation in the future.

Everyone has dealbreakers. However, we often forget that we weren't born with these dealbreakers ingrained in us. Sure, some of them are carried over from childhood, like the desire to marry someone with a shared love of Pogs (I'm looking forward to gaining ownership to half of my future husband's slammer collection), but most of these dealbreakers come about from failed relationships. Immediately following a breakup, most people go through that stage where they only think about the good things that they are now missing out on. This is why there is a terrible recidivism rate in bad relationships. Of course you are going to feel like you made a mistake--a breakup is a highly emotional time and you're just adjusting to being alone! It's important to recognize that there was probably a very valid reason for the breakup, so you should at least give it a chance to really stick. Some of the best advice my mom ever gave me was to "give it two weeks." Of course, for some people, it takes less time or more time, but for the most part I've found that two weeks is the perfect amount of time for someone to really feel good about their decision. You're far enough away from the breakup that emotions aren't clouding your judgment (at least not as much) but you're not so far away that you can't remember the reasons for the split. Also, two weeks is enough time to fall into a new routine, one that doesn't involve that other person. Here's a little secret about what I do at the two week mark (so far just in my last two relationships): write out some pros and cons. This might sound callous, as if I'm treating the relationship more like a business venture than a love connection. Maybe it is callous, but it works for me. It shows me what I learned from the relationship, what I really loved about it, what I really hated about it, what I absolutely cannot put up with in the next one. After making these lists, I actually come out with a more positive and realistic view of the relationship. This is probably because I am able to see it for what it was...I don't put it on a pedestal and forget the bad things, but I also don't let myself forget that there were reasons I was with that person at all. These things, bad or good, become dealbreakers.

So, without further delay, here are some of mine:

• I cannot be with an alcoholic.
• I must be with someone who loves food and cooking.
• I cannot be with someone who is constantly down on themselves.
• I must be with someone who is ambitious.
• I cannot be with someone I am not sexually compatible with (seems obvious, but this one took me awhile...I'll save that for another entry). 
• I must be with someone who is romantic (doesn't need to be grand-gesture-romantic...just remembering-the-little-things-romantic).
• I cannot be with someone passive.
• I must be with someone funny.
• I cannot be with someone who hates cats.
• I must be with someone who wants to travel.
• I cannot be with a vegetarian.
• I must be with someone who loves my mama. 
• I cannot be with someone who holds me back.
• I must be with someone who is close to their family.
• I cannot be with someone (highly) disorganized.
• I must be with someone who can articulate their emotions.
• I cannot be with a jealous or overly needy person.
• I must be happy and in love 99% of the time.

Blind Comfort

My road to Atheism was a long one. And honestly, I don't feel right saying "was" because I still have questions and confusion. What I do know is that I loathe the hypocrisy and blind faith that is involved in mostly every organized religion I've come across. There is this Post Secret that came out a few weeks ago that said "Not believing in God has allowed me to love people even more." I love this. I feel that when we put our faith in reason, rationality, and the goodness of ourselves, we tend to be more self-sufficient and purely happy. First I'll give an example of the "self-sufficient" part and then an example of the "purely happy" part.

I grew up in a predominately Christian (or Mormon!) town, therefore most of my high school classmates were, and still are, religious. I'm friends with quite a few of them on Facebook and it is not uncommon to see a status update such as this: "Please pray for me. Math test at 2!" Ugh. And then, when the math test results come in: "Thank you, God! I got an A!" I don't want to be a firestarter, so I haven't said anything...but it really bugs me that people project their accomplishments onto a higher being. Regardless of whether there is a God or not, you got that A because you studied, not because you prayed. I wish these friends would realize that it is their own intelligence and hard work that helped them achieve something, and then maybe it would be the first step to realizing that they don't need to depend on someone or something else to make them a "better" person. Another (albeit more terrifying) example of this detriment to self-sufficiency is that pilot who paused to pray instead of taking emergency measures before crash-landing his plane. 16 people were killed because of this. (See here) Let's stop to think about this for a moment. A trained and licensed pilot put 16 lives at risk instead of resorting to the emergency measures that he was instructed on. All because, presumably, he thought that God was more capable of handling the situation. This is terrifying to me. You know what else terrifies me? Songs like "Jesus, take the wheel." No, please, you take the wheel, because I am probably in another car on that highway and don't really feel like getting into an accident. My theory is that if people put a little more faith in themselves and their capabilities, they would realize that they don't need to be praying to a higher power for extra strength, intelligence, patience, etc. Regardless of prayer, you're the one who ends up doing the work in the end, right? You took that math test, not Jesus.

Okay, onto the "purely happy" part. Have you ever been in a relationship where you're only happy when that other person is around? Or when they are calling you? Or when they are complimenting you or reinforcing you? It's all beautiful when things are going your way, but when they leave you suddenly feel helpless in creating your own happiness. This is obviously unhealthy. We should all be able to make ourselves happy. After all, who knows you better than you? And that other person is not always going to be around to make you happy (not to mention that would be exhausting on their part, and a lot of pressure). It is my belief that a lot of religious people are in a "relationship" like this--with God. They believe that they won't be happy unless they can "talk" to God or "feel" God. They put so much emphasis on living a life for Him, that they seem to forget how to just be happy with themselves (this will link to a post on "Being Alone" I hope to write later this week). Furthermore, they cite God for every beauty or significance around them. This significance part moves me on to my real reason for this post...

In December of 2008, a very good friend of mine was stabbed and killed. It was, and will probably always be, the most traumatic and heartbreaking thing to ever happen to me. It really was senseless. His father is a pastor, so of course the services were very religious. Less than 24 hours after the death, a group of us had gathered at the pastor's church. I kept overhearing things like "This is all in God's plan," and it took every ounce of my will-power to not lash out at these people. "God's plan"?! What kind of a plan involves the brutal murder of a young man?! I think it is highly inappropriate, especially when someone is so freshly grieving, to say things like this. Am I supposed to nod and suddenly feel all better? Instead these types of "comforting words" only make me feel more angry and want to be more of an Atheist. Any God who has a plan like this doesn't sound like a God I want to look up to or strive to be like. I began the stages of grief, lingering far too long in the "denial" area. My religious friends got to the "acceptance" area very quickly, and I must admit this made me jealous. I knew it would be so much easier if I believed in heaven, because then I could comfort myself with ideas such as "he's in a better place," and "I'll see him soon." Laying in bed at night, during the weeks following his death, I was struck with a paralyzing anguish whenever I would think too hard about the permanence of his absence. I truly don't believe I will see him again, and that makes acceptance so much harder. In fact, I would venture to say I still haven't accepted his death nearly two years later. And in this sense, I am definitely envious of the blind comfort that religious people find in believing that there is an afterlife.

I don't mean for any of this to sound like I am clinging to the memory of his death in an unhealthy manner. I'm coming to terms with it in a different way, a way that takes more time and hurts more than just writing off his death as "God's plan." Sure, it would be easier that way, but I honestly believe that thoughts like that only put the bad feelings in a box and tuck it away in a closet in our brain. Pretty soon that closet could fill up and overflow, and you'll be overwhelmed with feelings that you never dealt with in the first place. Maybe I'll be angry over his murder for the rest of my life, but I don't really mind. The anger means I'm still feeling it, and in turn he feels closer. That's my own private way of keeping him.


Ed. Note: As not to offend anyone, I'd like to add that I know that not every religious person is like this. Some of my friends see their religion as a complement to their life, not a requirement. My meaning in this post was that when we put all of our faith into a higher being, we tend to forget our own capabilities and feelings.

Doing What Is Right...

I love this. So much. It puts into words the response I SO wish to give to people who use the "Bible Argument" in reference to homosexuality. If you're going to pick and choose which verses to follow, don't get mad when someone points out your inconsistencies.

Definitions

I have to admit, I get a secret thrill when someone asks me to describe myself. I think most people are intimidated by this request because they feel like talking about themselves in any sort of positive manner makes them conceited or boastful. But, honestly, I think it's incredibly important to be able to recognize the good parts in ourselves. Obviously we should admit and accept our flaws as well, but I think people spend way too much time dwelling on them. I always think of that scene in "Mean Girls" when the girls are pointing out their physical imperfections in the mirror. Sure, I could list off a ton of things I am unhappy with (I hate my feet, my hair takes too much work, I have ugly birthmarks) but I can also list off a ton of things I am happy with (see? Even right now I'm falling prey to the thought of not wanting to list my good qualities, in case I sound conceited. Silly me. I have pretty eyes!) We're getting off topic here though, as what I'm really talking about is non-physical attributes. I can tell you that I'm ambitious and hard-working and driven and loyal and loving and sincere. I can shout these things from the rooftop and I'm not embarrassed. These are GOOD things about me, I SHOULD boast about them. 


Here's where I've gotten a little confused about though...


I boast (or complain) about attributes that really have nothing to do with who I am as a person. Sometimes I hear myself saying "Oh yeah, I'm a total Topper girl," as if this means something. I guess what I'm doing is trying to make myself closer to that side of the family, but when I really think about it I have spent very little time with any of the Toppers so what have they given me except my looks? (We could get into a Nature vs. Nurture discussion here, but I am too hungover for such a thing at present). This ties in to my pet peeve of people saying things like "I have daddy issues, that's why I date all the wrong men." I will admit that I have uttered this statement myself before. Many, many times in fact. It's easy to excuse away our flaws by blaming a traumatic event from our childhood; it's much harder, and I think much more brave, to accept that the traumatic event occurred and then overcome it. Beat the odds, if you will. For example, they say that being sexually abused as a child leads to promiscuity or other sexual problems later in life (just listen to any airing of "Loveline" and you will quickly notice that the first thing Dr. Drew asks any female caller is "Were you sexually abused as a child?"). Sexual abuse, at any age, is horrible and probably the most traumatic thing a girl can go through, BUT I still think that if you are self-aware enough to recognize that something like that is causing you problems later in life, then you are self-aware enough to remedy the situation. I might be alone in this reasoning, and I don't mean to sound insensitive, but it really just seems like people use these sort of things as an excuse to continually mess up. My older brother never had a dad growing up, not even a strong male figure. Starting at age 13 he was in and out of correctional facilities. Up until his son was born in April of 2008, he would constantly use his "daddy issues" as an excuse for his violence, anger, and other various problems. I feel awful that he never had a dad around, and chances are that if he did he wouldn't have gotten in to quite as much trouble, but what really pisses me off is that he used this as a crutch his whole life. Instead of overcoming it and saying "Hey, look how I persevered!" he used it as a Get Out of Jail Free pass (ha! If only that were real in his case). I think having his son made him realize that he had to stop feeling sorry for himself and actually break the cycle of non-existent fathers. 


I had an absent father when I was growing up too, but I never let it define me. I think that is something I am most proud of. I could have been promiscuous, or dated guys who are flakey, or even just resented my father. I just feel like it is much healthier--for me and for everyone around me--to forgive. I'm not saying I'll forget, mind you. I know that I came from hardship, but instead of letting that hardship be a definition in my life, I want it to be a challenge I overcame. Maybe I was predisposed to be a certain way because I didn't have a dad growing up, or because I'm a Topper, or because I grew up in a conservative Christian town...but I am where I am now, and any bad qualities I have are mine to accept blame for. 


I'll end this with my favorite quote/lyric: "Life is how it is, not how it was." It might sound preachy, but we have the power to change ourselves, to be who we want to be. Stop complaining about what happened to you before, and look forward to how you're going to make it different from now on.