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500 Words a Day – Day Three – I AM a Writer

I woke up this morning wanting to write a piece about acroyoga and I seem to be at a block. Maybe that’s why I have such a hard time actually sitting down and writing, or that I wait until the mood strikes me. Part of it is that I feel rushed for time and part of it is that I want to make sure I do a “good job.” That is an article I hope I would be able to get published, so I don’t just want to rush it, so I guess it makes sense. However, I feel I’m judging myself for not just sitting down and busting it out.

The question that gets me is how to change my writing from stream of thought, like I’m doing here, to getting it more focused. That way when I do sit down to write, I can write a piece of something good and useful. Not all of my writing needs to be good and useful, but there is a part of me that wants to be of use (see yesterday’s post lol).

There is also the judgment on myself of not being a writer. I had a conversation a few months back with someone that started to change how I view myself. I used to consider myself an aspiring writer, meaning I journaled and wanted to start a blog or write a book. From that conversation I got that I AM a writer. My thoughts about myself changed and I began to believe the new story I told myself. From that point, I was able to start a blog and get some good blogs out (at least I think they were good). I even had one published (here). I’m actually pretty proud of that. But my quest, my ideal is to be able and sit down and write something good when I want to, not just when the mood strikes.

A part of what I would like to start doing, and here comes the “It’s so hard I can’t do it crap,” is that I’d like to start blending research into my blog posts. Not so much like I did for my graduate work (not sure I’ll ever want to go that far again), but there is some good, relevant research out there that I feel would be good to make known. I feel it’s hard to do that in a short period of time. And maybe there is some truth to that. So how do I reconcile two things, the feeling that I can’t write quality pieces without a lot of time put in and the feeling that I don’t actually have the time to do this?

I guess I actually sit down and write, kinda like I’m doing here lol. The more you practice something, the better you get at it. That makes sense. Let go of judgements of myself, that I’m not a writer, that I can’t write good things quickly. I am a writer, and a good writer. And I CAN write good pieces quickly (just had to get that self affirmation out). So that leaves trying to get more focused when I do write. I guess that’s what this experiment will be about for me. Making the time to write, and keeping my writing focused on a specific topic. Wish me luck…

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Practicing Handstands

I did my first handstand press up the other day. It’s something that I’ve been working on for the past 9 months, so I am estatic that it finally happened. Of course, with the way my mind works, there’s a lesson in there. But first things first. For those of you who don’t know, a handstand press is when you start from standing, place your hands on the floor in front of you and, without jumping, simply lift your legs over your head. “Simply,” right? Hah! It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever tried to do and for months my feet wouldn’t even leave the ground. And I consider myself to be in fairly good shape. I’d also like to say my feet went right up over my head into the perfect handstand. Hahahahaha, nope. The truth is, the moment my feet went over my head I freaked out, fell out of the handstand and almost landed on my face. It scared the hell out of me, mostly because I didn’t truly think it would happen. I’m still learning how to do a solid handstand, and yet I can now, apparently, press my feet over my head. Who knew? 

So, back to the lessons. The easy thing to talk about would be about perseverance, and it’s true you have to keep trying things in order to get better. And learning can be a slow process. I’ve been trying to do a handstand press since the first time I saw someone do one. It was so cool to see them just lift their feet over their head, and I wanted to do that, too. And I’ll admit it, there’s a bit of my ego involved with this. But I couldn’t do it. I tried and tried and tried. For months. I took and a handstand clinic to improve my handstand. Maybe two. Or three. But the best I could do was to lift my feet an inch or two off the ground. Even that was sooooo freaking hard. I gave up for a while. Stopped doing handstands every chance I got and what little gains I had made, I lost. Then a couple months ago I started trying again. My handstand improved. Still no press, but I’ve been been able to hold a handstand for about 8 seconds.

Then, last week, I was hanging out with one of my friends, who is an excellent yoga teacher, and the woman I’ve been seeing, who is also an incredible yoga teacher. The two of them both start playing with their handstand presses (because they both can) and they start talking about doing this one simple thing that I’ve never even heard about. Bending your knees. I’m amazed. I go off into a corner (because obviously I don’t want to be out in the open if I fail) and I try it. I do it! It wasn’t pretty, I didn’t hold it at all and I almost fell on my face. But I did it! I was amazed and happy! I turn to the woman I’ve been seeing and asked if she saw it. She said “yes.” I said, “I had no idea that bending your knees could help you do a press.” Her response?? “Well, yeah. It makes it so much easier. But why didn’t you tell me you wanted to do a press? I would have told you that months ago.” Oh…

I now realize that doing a handstand press seemed so far away from me that I never really tried it around the people who could help, let alone ask them for help. Even though it was something I REALLY wanted to do. It was always a far off “some day” goal. And I guess I felt a little silly for wanting to try it. I got in my own way because I didn’t believe enough in myself. And because of that, I stayed on the edge of being able to do something I really wanted to do. For months.

But that’s ok. I know how to do it now. Now there’s just more practice and getting better. And being ok with where I am in life, even when I get in my own way, is simply another practice I am incorporating in my life.

So, lessons learned 1) the things we want are often closer than we think 2) even if we think it’s a ridiculous goal, ask others for help. For that matter, surround yourself with people willing to help, not those who say it can’t be done. 3) this goes with #2, but always tell people what you’re doing. Bring it into the light.

As I’m writing these down, I realize that I’ve heard them many times before. So it’s clear I needed a reminder. That’s ok, too. I’m good with reminders. I’m just gonna keep on practicing. Practicing my handstand, practicing my handstand press, practicing life. Because that’s what life really is, practice.

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Coming Home to Winter

This weekend, for the first time since I moved back after spending 11 years in San Diego, Chicago felt like home. Put simply, it was really nice. A big part of this feeling came from attending a Winter Ball. I attended a ball. Sounds strange to me to say those words, but that’s what I did.

There was no particular dress code for the ball, other than to wear white and express yourself. A small problem was that I have no white clothes. It’s a color I just don’t wear. Sooo, I had a little shopping to do. Fortunately, my date for the night was willing to help me out with my clothing selection. I had an idea for a shirt to wear, and she ok’d that part, but it was really the pants she suggested that got me out of my comfort zone. I don’t generally wear anything quite that tight. Or striped.

At this point I do feel that I should explain a little about my current journey in life. Particularly with clothes. I’ve always gone for comfort, which means jeans and a t-shirt. So much so, that my ex called it my “uniform.” I was ok with that, I didn’t stand out and I didn’t need to think too much about what I wore. Also, I didn’t care too much for society’s “expected dress code.” I’ve always thought that dressing up and looking “good” was confining and boring. My journey from that idea to the idea of being able to wear clothes that express who I am, while still looking professional, started back in San Diego. While my clothing selection may not have been “professional” on Saturday night, it certainly was a step in the right direction for self expression.

So I got ready and met my date at her place. She was happy to see that I was already dressed in the clothes that she had helped pick out earlier in the day. In particular, she expressed her appreciation for the tight pants (who knew??). As I waited for her to finish getting ready, I enjoyed a fine bourbon barreled ale and got some ideas from one of her roommates for touch ups to what I was wearing.

My date finished getting ready and came out, her white skirt and top was a beautiful contrast against her skin and dark hair. Her silver necklace glimmered in the light, but it was her smile that lit up the room.

We decided to call an Uber, since we knew we would be having a few drinks and it was snowing so heavily. Arm-in-arm we stood outside, waiting for the car to pick us up. I was wearing a black coat over my white clothes, while she was dressed all in white, from her head to her feet. The snow was collecting in our hair as she smiled up at me, and that was the moment I finally felt at home. That Chicago was once again my home.

We arrived at the ball, and walked inside. The space was beautifully decorated…in white, of course. There was also soft, colored lighting throughout the place. The people were amazing to look at, as well. Seeing everyone dressed in white was so cool. Everywhere you looked there were white skirts, pants, shirts, tops, hats and more. And even though I was a little uncomfortable in my tight, striped, pants, it was definitely the right call to wear them. I’ll admit, it helped that I received a random compliment on them within five minutes of arriving.

The ball was a bit of a whirlwind, but here are some of the highlights. I already mentioned the people, and my date knew many of them. I didn’t move more than a few feet at a time without meeting someone new. Everyone was great, and I always enjoy meeting great people.

To add to that, the music was incredible and so much fun to dance to. One of the DJ’s even sang live over the music, and her voice was beautiful. It was especially fun to watch my date dance, as she moves through space so gracefully. The performances were great, with fire-spinning and aerial silks being just two of the performances. I also tried absinthe for the first time, which was good, but I’m still not sure about. The whiskey bar, on the other hand, was awesome. I got to try an amazing, smoky scotch that really blew me away. I’ll admit to finishing it after my date had just a sip or two, but she’s so tiny, and I didn’t want to force alcohol on her. So, really, I was just thinking about her as I enjoyed that yumminess myself.

Unfortunately, we showed up after dinner was over, so I can’t comment on the food. However, the peanut M&M’s we snagged late at night were divine. They were truly the best M&M’s I’ve ever eaten.

Although we left the ball late (or early, depending on your point of view), there were still plenty of people ready to talk and dance the rest of the night away. We got into the car to leave, and on the way home we spoke about the night and how much fun we had. The snow was coming down hard, and would continue to do so for a while, but even still, I realized it’s great to be back home in Chicago.

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Rage, Pain, and Sadness….Or, A Touch of Grey

Today, I signed the documents that will finalize my divorce and custody agreement for my son. It’s been a rough few months, and I realize now what’s been bothering me all this time. Why I’ve retreated a little from life…why I haven’t blogged in so long…or written anything…at all. It’s been tough to get out of bed, pay my bills, keep in touch with friends, maintain a healthy eating schedule. Pretty much anything that I “should” be doing. And then it all comes crashing down at once what is bothering me.

I’m a processor. It’s how I deal with life. Sometimes it’s fairly slow, as it was this time, and sometimes it’s, well, less slow. Oh, well. It’s who I’m am. I usually figure out what’s bothering me within two days. I’m ok with that. Or at least I’ve come to accept that is how I work.

So I signed the paperwork and talked with my lawyer for a bit. He kept assuring me about what I was signing and said things like, “this is really the best deal you could have hoped for,” and “this agreement will protect your rights as a father.” It all sounds good, even though I have some misgivings, but I’m really just glad to have everything over. As I walk out of his office, I really want to have a beer. I don’t want to get drunk, I generally don’t feel that urge anymore, but just one beer to take the edge off. The problem is that it’s 10 AM and any place I’d want to go is closed. I’m also not going to go home and drink, and I’m too impatient to sit around and wait for some place to open up. See, I’ve become very aware of when, and why, I drink. Sometime I get these urges to go against what I think is right, but I also think the universe conspires to help us, if we pay attention. I did. Instead of going and having a beer I decided to go home and meditate, to simply feel what I’m feeling. Feelings aren’t good or bad, they just are, and I want to be in touch with mine as much as possible. I think that’s one way to truly enjoy life and not hide from it.

I start driving home and get about a mile into the 40 minute drive when I have a moment of catharsis. Ok, I started sobbing uncontrollably. And it’s possible it lasted for more than a moment. My lawyer’s words repeat in my head again and again, “best deal” in particular. Best deal? Are you fucking kidding me? On the one hand, I do believe him. I heard the same thing from him, another source, and a mediator. And it tells me how fucked up Illinois is for father’s rights. Best deal? What the fuck? Fuck you! Right now, I have my son every other weekend and then from 6-8 PM one night a week. My lawyer and the mediator both assure me that’s how Illinois does it. But “best deal.” Fuck. 

I do the math. I don’t know why, but I do. If I have my son every other weekend that means I see him for 26 of the 52 weeks, or for a total of 52 days a year. Out of 365. Best deal. Fuck you. Oh wait, I forgot about the mid-week times I have him. Add two hours times 52 weeks, the that’s 104 additional hours, or another 4.33 days…

I fucking hate this state, I hate it’s law makers, I hate that I’m here, I hate the fucking winter cold. I hate that I’ve spent 8 months here, sent out hundreds of resumes, and only had one interview. Now, I want to go get drunk. I want to go fuck my brains out, I want to beat the shit out of someone. Something, anything, not to have to feel this fucking crap. I fucking hate everyone and I fucking hate everything. And right now I especially, especially, hate the fact that somewhere, deep inside me, there is a small, rational part that sees the lesson in all of this. I don’t want to be rational. I want to rage. I want to fuck shit up.

But my drive home isn’t over yet. That small part of me gets louder. The fact that music is playing on the radio starts to register. A Touch of Grey by the Grateful Dead comes on. Music has often soothed my soul, and it does so now. I know that life isn’t bad or good. How much time I have with my son isn’t bad or good. I can be a good father to him with what little time I have. It’s the quality moments that really matter. And right now I see him more than when I lived in California and he was in Illinois. I need to keep things in perspective, because, really, there are a couple ways this can go.

I can keep this anger and resentment, I can hold it tight. In the end, though, who really gets hurt? I’ve heard it said that holding resentment is like taking poison yourself, hoping someone else dies. So, in this scenario, the only people I’m hurting is myself, and then my son. That’s not ok with me. Another option is to accept that this is how it is, for now. It won’t always be like this. My son will grow up, situations will change. He’ll be able to make his own choices. And from what I hear, it will happen fast. Crap, it feels like he was born just the other day. Right now my job is to be the best father to him I can be, to keep myself sane and healthy, to keep him safe, and to be there for him when he needs me. And he will need me.

The song ends. My tears have, mostly, stopped. I don’t like the situation, but I can accept it…and look for ways that I can change it in the future. The key is acceptance. By accepting it, I don’t rage against it. I don’t hold on to it and get depressed, or want to drink or engage in any other myriad of distractions that humans can use to “help” us get through. To me, it’s just one more step to being fully present. And that’s how I choose to live my life.

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Revel Life – 10 Steps to…What?

Lately, I’ve been seeing a lot of things about how to live your life in three easy steps and, to be honest, I’m getting sick of it. There’s no denying that at one time I thought lists were the greatest. All sorts of wisdom in one spot. Then I, too, could be rich if I followed these 10 easy steps. Or find my passion in five steps. Or find myself. Or get over someone.

This stuff is starting to bother me. Not because I intrinsically think they’re wrong, there’s some really good stuff there. But it bothers me because I feel they set people up to fail, or feel bad about themselves, if they don’t succeed in following the steps. Also, I don’t think life can be classified into easy steps. Life isn’t easy, and it isn’t neat. It’s messy, passionate…and beautiful.

First off, I’ve tried to follow steps before…three steps, five steps, 12 steps. You name it, I’ve tried it. I’ve searched for answers my entire life. I feel I’ve come close to so many things. I guess I’m a bit of a seeker that way. I’d try hard, so hard. And then, wait…what was step eight, again? Fuck. Gotta start over.

I suppose it’s not people’s fault for making lists. Many of us like to contain things, to classify them and put them in order. It gives us a sense of control and peace. But it’s an illusion. We don’t control anything, except ourselves, and many of us are so hindered by past hurts that we have trouble doing that. We react to life and flail wildly about trying to get things back under control again, back into order.

Maybe it’s me, or maybe it’s my life. As I write this, I’m going through a divorce, my son is 2000 miles away from me and has been for over two years since my ex and I separated. During those two years I worked full-time, finished my masters degree, met someone, fell in love, and then broke up because, well, some things can’t be overcome.

So, there is a lot of sadness in my life right now. And a lot of stress. So what are the five steps to fix it? What’s the easy, straight forward fix? I don’t think there is one, and that’s ok. Like I said, life is messy.

What keeps me going, what keeps me from killing myself, is beauty in the world, the love of my friends, yoga, meditation and some therapy. Almost sounds like

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Why I do Yoga

I feel like this topic has been done and re-done by so many people, but I still feel like I should write this. That I need to write it. A part of it is because I’m just starting this blog and a good portion will probably be about yoga, so I want people to know why. But I also think that some of this I just need to get out. So hear goes.

To be honest, one of the main reasons I do yoga is because I’m “good” at it. I’m fairly strong, and for a guy my size, I’m pretty flexible. A lot of yoga is about increasing strength and flexibility, so overall it’s fairly easy for me. But there’s more too it than that. If I already have the strength and flexibility, then why practice yoga? It’s to challenge myself, to see where I can go. You see, there’s always a next step in yoga. The first time a teacher encouraged me to go to a more advanced posture (lift one leg up while in a backbend) my response was, “Do what?!” The thought of being able to do it seemed so absurd that I fell to the floor laughing. It seemed that impossible. But it stuck in my head and few weeks later I tried it. And I did it. I was so excited and I got a little more hooked on yoga. Now when a teacher asks me to do something that is new and seems impossible, my first response is still, “Do what?!” but now that only lasts for a couple seconds. Then I think, “Can I do this?” A big part of yoga is self assessment. So sometimes I decide it’s a little beyond me, but other times I try it. I’ll tell ya, when you’re able to do something that you previously thought was impossible, it’s an amazing feeling.

Another reason I do yoga is that it’s good for my mind. I simply feel better mentally when I do it. There are times when there is so much going on in my head that my mind feels like a hamster running around inside a ball. In a pinball machine. It gets a little crazy in there. But yoga helps. To me yoga is like meditation in motion. It’s simply being present and staying as focused as possible for the duration of the class. One of the best thing a yoga teacher ever told me was, “For the next 90 minutes turn off your mind. As you go through the poses, listen to my cues and do what I say. My mind, your body.” That statement gave me the freedom to let go of what I was thinking about, to relax and simply be present for the duration of the class. And I kept that calmness with me as I left the yoga studio.

A third aspect is about spirituality. When I first started doing yoga it was strictly about getting in a good workout, and that was enough. Then, after hanging out in a yoga studio, learning more about yoga and making friends with other yogi’s, I realized I was getting another benefit, which was I felt better in my spirit. What I found is that being surrounded by like minded people (those who are trying to improve themselves and the world around them), really helps keep me inspired to do the same. It helps me take eyes off of myself and look more at the world around me. To me, that is what’s good for my soul and therefore, spiritual. Now, I also consider myself to be a Christian. While that’s not necessarily popular, that’s what I believe. And as I learned more about yoga, I found that many of the same principles are taught in both yoga and Christianity. In general, I simply try to stick with loving myself, loving others and hopefully making the world a better place to live in, for everyone. Then I try and leave the rest at the door.

In the end, yoga gives me peace of mind, and that peace of mind helps me deal with what’s going on in my life. Sometimes it’s from the rush of doing something new that I previously thought impossible. Other times it’s about doing something old but making that one small tweak and doing it better. Then there are times when it’s simply about doing something. To give myself a reason to get out the door, do something healthy for myself and be around positive people. For someone who tends to be introverted and deals with depression on a near daily basis, I often NEED a reason to get out the door.

There really are a ton of other benefits to yoga, but these are the main ones for me. They are the reasons that help get me out the door and back to the yoga studio time after time. And if I have to do yoga in a room full of fit, attractive women, I guess I’ll just have to suffer through…

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Why Revel Living

I’ve been thinking about blogging for a long time now, but it looks like I’m finally getting the guts to do it. There is so much that I could write about, but what do I really know? The first thing that pops into my mind is my depression. Over my lifetime I’ve seen a bunch of therapist, tried different drugs and herbal remedies, but they only seemed to work for the short term, if at all. The key for me was acceptance. To accept that sometimes I’ll be sad. It’s OK.

But the other side of that is knowing that I don’t have to stay there. There are things that I can do that will help me get out of, lessen, minimize, whatever you want to call it, my depression. Some things that have helped me are yoga, meditation, and eating healthy. Well, at least healthier. No more Blizzard a day keeps the doc away attitude (yes, there was a time I went for months eating a Blizzard daily). But also doing things that give me joy, and doing them regularly. Figuring out what I love about life, like yoga, bike riding, hiking…and my puppy.

So, do I want to focus on depression? No. What I really  want to talk about is living with it, and living fully. To understand what makes me tick and turns me on, and hopefully to help others try to figure that out as well. I’ve been blessed to have people in my life that have inspired me, and I want to try to pass that on, in my own way.

Now, why Revel Living? To be honest, I really liked Rebel Living. That speaks to me be cause I tend to be a bit of a rebel in life. If someone says “go left” I go right. If they say “up,” I say “down.” I often don’t mean to, it’s just one of the ways I seem to have been made, and something to note so I can catch it when it pops up in life. But, the first time I mentioned it to someone they mis-heard me and heard revel instead of rebel. And I liked the sound of it even better. So I looked the words up to make sure the message I wanted to convey was in the name. This is what I found.

Revel – enjoy oneself in a lively and noisy way, especially with drinking and dancing.

Living – a particular manner, state, or status of life or the pursuit of a lifestyle of the specified type.

Sooo, to me revel living means “the pursuit of a lifestyle of enjoying oneself in a lively and noisy way…especially with drinking and dancing.” Further translation – find out what you love to do, and DO it. Especially with drinking and dancing. Ha!

So get out there. Climb a mountain. Go for a drive. Pet a puppy, or kitten or bunny or chinchilla. Read a book, write a book. Sit down and talk to a friend over a glass of wine, beer, coffee or kombucha. And if all that sounds like too much, then just step outside, and simply breathe. That small step is a great start.