a bit of light in the dark

i sat at my computer all day. my bossy apple watch kept reminding me to stand up. i didn't listen. i have a lot to do. it turns out that (re)writing an entire website is a pretty big job (thank goodness i have help). two weeks of holiday helped put my head back on straight, so i'm much more able to concentrate and get down to the work. at the end of the day, in the waning bits of light, i finally listened to my watch and went out for a walk. and i'm so glad i did. the nearly full moon was rising and the air was crisp and cool. i walked 4km and it got pretty thoroughly dark by the time i returned, even though it only took about 40 minutes. 

it's kind of amazing how that 40 minutes of fresh air and being in my body means that when i got back home, i'm full of ideas and energy. that's also surely down to the two weeks of holiday. i always feel like travel fills me with ideas and energy. and now i know that taking a walk helps me keep hold of that. 

the problem is that it's the dark time of year and it's going to get darker for another month. since we live in country roads, i can put on a high visibility vest and get out there and walk anyway. my phone has light. we have a headlamp. this is doable. and worth it for the ideas and energy. 

a brisk walk, like shining a bit of light in the dark. 

the body knows

i've been sick all week. fever. headache. ringing ears. persistent cough. it's that time of year, but also surely my body saying "enough!" i haven't been that happy at work of late. my wonderful boss left. what's left of our department has been tossed to and fro across the organization, used as pawns in political game-playing, for more than a year now. we've landed with a manager we were told was interim, but who is looking more and more permanent and who hasn't, shall we say...settled into the role as of yet. even tho' it's been six months. good colleagues are fleeing. there's too much work and too little appreciation. and come january, there is micromanagement on the horizon. and i think that my body took a look at all of this and said, "you need some rest honey. you need to snuggle under the covers with netflix and a kitten and get some rest. you need to stop worrying about things you can't change or control and get right in yourself. and if it takes giving you a temperature of 39.6 for two days, followed by slowly ramping down to almost normal as of today, then so be it young lady." my body still thinks i'm a young lady, you see. and my body knows me and what i need. but it also knows that i don't listen to it very well, so this time, it took extreme measures, and i listened. and i'm starting to feel better.

fear and other baggage

fear is an annoyance, rearing its head when you least desire it, popping up from the depths where you had tucked it away. sometimes you are surprised by what provokes it, other times, it returns like dust on your window ledge, there's a thin covering of it and you didn't even notice its arrival until it's there, keeping you awake at night, grinding your teeth. my fear doesn't have to do with dying, it's about feeling (or being shown) that i don't belong. but this piece about audrey lourde on the ever-brilliant brainpickings spoke to me, even tho' it was about the much more real fear of impending death. as the piece says, not giving in to fear is about "everyday living and making decisions." deciding not to give in to fear, to let it rob you of sleep, your fillings, your happiness and contentment and your genuine enjoyment of your job and life in general. but, in times of uncertainty, that can be hard.

i wrote the above last sunday night and left it unfinished here in my browser tab. in the meantime, i've had a whole week to ponder the question of fear. i also listened to a wonderful podcast on the topic, which, by chance (or not, if you have a fatalist presbyterian inside you), was the nytimes podcast club's pick this week - closer than they appear. it was so thoughtful, deep and self-reflective, that it made me think about fear differently. the host, carvell wallace, examines trump's america and how one can cope with living in it. in the first episode, he asked listeners to think about someone they'd like to talk to, who they haven't been able to for one reason or another - someone who they were estranged from or angry with - and about something you want to say to someone, which you haven't been able to say.

and i began to think about who that would be for me. two people came to mind, and then it became three and then four, none of which i really have the possibility to speak to, unless i really tried. but the need is still there, and i think it's actually really blocking me from truly living to my full potential. in all three four cases, it is the root of the fear i feel today in the face of some of my colleagues losing their jobs and fearing for my own.

the first one is that old norwegian misogynist dinosaur who was a sexist son-of-a-bitch to my face. in this era of #metoo, he has been on my mind a lot. i was so nonplussed at the time, that i just flushed and swallowed hard and couldn't think of a single thing to say against his ridiculous claim that a woman couldn't interview a shipping ceo. and i eventually left that job because of that incident, which i reported to hr and then was "bought out" and left.  i'd like to call him a misogynist dinosaur to his face.

the second one is uncle fester. he was utterly wrong about a situation and he never admitted that he was wrong. of course, he was someone who had no problem standing in front of large groups of people, lying to their faces, so there's that. i have heard that he has had a rather severe case of lyme disease, which makes me believe in karma. he is the least of the four, as i moved on to other jobs which took me in a better, more interesting direction. i would still like to tell him i think he's a weak coward for being unable to admit his mistake. and i probably could write to him, but i'm not sure it's worth it.

number three is an old friend who hasn't been a friend for some years. i'd love to tell him (these are all men, have you noticed?) how hurt i was by his actions, but i'm not sure what good it would do. on the other hand, i had an amazing bodywork session on friday that made me think that i hold this baggage in my body, so perhaps it would be worth getting in touch and trying to clear the air.

the last is that asshat from lego. he said i wasn't commercial. and he negated me as a person, more than any of the others (except, perhaps interestingly enough, that other norwegian twat). perhaps above all, i'd like to give him a piece of my mind. and since he's but 15 minutes away, the possibility lingers.

but then i think about whether it's really worth it. would any of them learn anything or recognize the damage they did? would i be prepared to accept it if they didn't? would my body be able to let go of the baggage i carry? at my age, there's starting to be so much, that i wonder sometimes how i can carry it all.

i'm not done pondering this and i think i'll even listen to the closer than they appear podcast again, to try and work through it (also, it's that good). and i'm definitely going back for more bodywork - that was amazing. and potentially transformative. it would be good to be able to let go of all this fear. undoubtedly a whole new wave of fears would take center stage, but then i could deal with those (i'm looking at you, alzheimer's). above all, it would be good to have something else rule my life/behavior...like awesome energy and good karma.

so much work to do.

i could work in my pyjamas every day

while i wasn't completely alone today, there was sunshine and time for a solitary walk. i also helped husband move a load of wood and getting out in the fresh air and stretching my limbs, doing something physical helped - i so often forget to reside in my body as well as my mind. aside from some hours of work (which, since i was home, i could do in my pyjamas), no one really expected anything of me. that, and the pyjamas, were very welcome. i found a little bit of time to read some more long read pieces that i'd been saving. like this one, which, like yesterday's, is also about home. and this one about anna akhmatova. what are you doing to find peace and comfort in this liminal space between christmas & new year's?

back to the mat

i returned to the yoga mat this evening after too long an absence. one thing or another got in the way all summer long and i am reluctant to admit that i hadn’t been at all in over two months. i have been noticing the twinges of the nerve damage brought on by my back problems returning to my left leg of late, so i knew i had to get back into the studio. i chose a restorative class to ease my out-of-shape muscles back into it. the instructor was a lovely little wisp of a thing in a black leotard and big cozy hand-knitted sweater. in her soothing voice, she told us that we would need at least four blankets and two bolsters. i always feel a bit greedy taking three blankets for these classes...one for the mat, one as a pillow and one to cover up with at the end during savasana…so four felt a bit decadent. by the end, we had actually all used six, which felt like the height of luxury. they are heavy, cream-colored cotton blankets that can be folded into all sorts of supports and which provide the perfect weight to ground you during savasana.

under the guidance of the instructor’s melodic, calm voice, for an hour and a half, i reconnected with my body, mentally investigating all of the tensions and twinges and sore spots. i melted into the mat, synesthetic colors – rich, mahogany brown with flecks of light blue and then pink and magenta swirled before my closed eyes. i felt a kind of hum of alignment with the earth’s energy, radiating into me from the solid floor beneath my mat. it felt rich and energizing and right. the nerves in my left leg protested at times, but they were also grateful for the attention and the time i gave them after so many weeks of neglect.

i live in my head so much of the time and so often take my body for granted. and i suppose that i will again, but it felt good to choose to be in my body and with my body for a concentrated hour and a half. i think i’ll go do it again tomorrow night.

practicing :: it's a process

today at yoga, the instructor talked about letting go of the tension in our bodies and minds without necessarily solving anything. just releasing it. without needing to solve the underlying cause. just to get a moment of relief. and with my now bordering on chronic jaw problem and all of the unsolvable issues that have caused it (the cheeto who will soon be our president and my mother's decline), the notion of releasing the tension without a solution was a freeing one, even as i also feared that letting it go might just collapse the whole structure that is me. but i was able to do it there, for a brief moment, in class. and it felt pretty great. and i hoping that knowing it's possible, if only for a moment at a time, will help me to do it again. 

i was further reminded at yoga of how much i live my life inside my head and not in my body. like my back problem a year ago, my recent jaw pain, was a sharp wakeup call to me to live more fully in awareness of my body. to find a better balance. my clumsy efforts at knitting help. and i find myself wanting to sew something as well, as that is a good activity for mind-body interaction. from what i've been reading about alzheimer's, it can be very important, that hand-brain connection, in helping yourself avoid getting it. that and a healthy diet. a healthier diet is something that the jaw issue has forced upon me as well and here, more than a week into healthier eating (making lots of juices these days, since i still have trouble opening my mouth very wide), i'm feeling much clearer in my thinking and my clothes fit better as well! so there is some silver lining to the jaw issue. 

yoga also reminds me that i'm practicing. and that it takes time to get good at something. i spend brief moments truly in my body while i'm in class. and i need to work on carrying those moments into the rest of the time - like when i'm trying to fall asleep. or when i feel stressed in a meeting. i want to get better at grounding myself in my body, through breathing and listening to what it's telling me. so weird that it has taken this long for me to realize this. 

* * *

i liked the 2017 goals that tracy clayton (of another round podcast/buzzfeed fame) posted on twitter.

* * *

i envy this guy's knitting skills.

* * *

this woman lives without modern amenities.
but you'll never go without a cup of tea when you visit her.
"miss gallagher believes a period of silence or solitude should be encouraged in the house to help cope with the pressures of life."
maybe she's right.

* * *

if you want to be a better person, find something outside of work.

* * *

is america just a bit backward?
and is it going to get worse?

yoga-induced stream of consciousness

the scene: yoga this evening. the room lit by fairy lights, the faint smell of sweat and jasmine in the air. mats being spread out. everyone silent, not even a murmur between friends. deep breaths and sighs as everyone settles down on their yoga mats. all of us in our own heads and trying to settle down into our own bodies. it’s not an easy transition. our teacher comes in. her calming presence quietly fills the room and our minds quiet. or at least mine does and i sense that the energy in the room settles down, so the others’ minds must go quiet as well. the stresses of the day wash away.

it’s yin yoga, so we push gently into long stretches, held for what can seem like ages at times and like not nearly enough time on other occasions. my mind leaves the lists and the counting and strangely flits to an apartment in chicago. where did that come from? it’s not even an apartment i lived in, only one i once looked at with a realtor on a whirlwind day of looking of 18 properties. where did that come from? it involved a kitchen island and what i would now call a hyggeligt atmosphere, tho’ i had no idea of that word then. there are seemingly no emotions tied to it, it’s just a random memory, popped into my head. and a remembered feeling…the green of many plants, the coziness of the kitchen, white-framed glass doors. why was it again we didn’t go for that one 20 years ago? i don’t remember that anymore now. and why did it come up? i think i could find it again, there in hyde park. i wonder who lives there now and if they changed it? does it still feel the way it felt then? does it somehow know i had a visual memory of it in yoga class tonight, 20 years and an ocean away?

then we change positions and someone farther down the room farts loudly. thankfully, not me. no one giggles, tho’ i want to. danes are polite like that. yoga can be strenuous and the body wants what the body wants. it’s natural.

home to my little weekday apartment. spinach for dinner. i could (and sometimes do) eat that every day. i revel in the quiet. listening to podcasts – britney luce’s sampler episode this week – cheat codes – is inspiring. i send it to a friend and mark it saved on my phone to listen to it again. it makes me want to get off my ass and make that podcast i’ve been talking about for a year now. what is stopping me? and then jonathan goldstein’s new heavyweight podcast feels poignant and touching beyond what i want in this moment, so i turn it off and put on the spotify playlist i discovered in a restaurant in klaipeda. it’s called freedom dub and you should go follow it. it’s great, loungey remixes of all the songs you know. in the best way. perfect to write to.

and it’s been far too long since i let the perfect conditions for writing happen. it’s nice to be back.

being sick is such a waste of time

"Her secret, if indeed she kept one, might be that we cannot comprehend how different our lives are from everyone else’s," on Diane Arbus, from this piece in the american scholar.

i was part of a community art project last weekend. it was a waste time home party and the concept was developed by artist anja franke. the event was part of a cooperation between trapholt, an art museum in kolding and the 7 communities that make up the triangle region of denmark. our local art associated played host to the event, together with our local library.

the idea is that your admission ticket to the event is a piece of white porcelain, probably something you found at a flea market or which was lying around your home, not used all that often. so a "waste" piece of porcelain. everyone who comes gathers to eat a meal together using the porcelain and then, when the dinner is over, it's all washed and the group embarks upon painting their interpretation of the waste time pattern onto the plates, cups and bowls. the painted pieces will be part of a larger exhibition in september at trapholt.

with the influx of refugees spreading across europe, the question of home was central. it was also important for us to include some of the refugee families that live here in our little town. we were fortunate to find a syrian family who was willing to cook the meal that we all shared. and i got to help prepare the food. we worked together in the library's kitchen all morning and i tried to learn as much as i could about syrian cuisine while i helped. it's quite a mediterranean kitchen and not unlike the cuisine i know from the balkans, turkey and greece. we had so much fun in the kitchen, laughing and joking as we prepared the food. i've posted some pictures of it over here (in danish, but the pix do speak for themselves).

part of the program was an all-too-short salon, where questions about home, waste and time were posed and discussed in small groups. as i've been lying around sick this week, trying to get over a miserable summer cold, i've had occasion to ponder the list of questions. there's undoubtedly a whole series of blog posts in the questions, but i found myself focusing on the waste section, as being sick feels decidedly like a waste of time. and since i've covered home a lot here on mpc, i'll save that and time for another...well...time.

"when do you feel that you're wasting time?"

i definitely felt like i was wasting time this week, as i wiled away the days in bed, blowing my nose, drinking tea, coughing and generally feeling miserable. even tho' i skyped in to meetings at work and actually got quite a lot of work done on documents since i was without the usual interruptions for cake or lunch or conversations that happen at the office, i still felt like being sick was such a waste of time. it comes with a feeling of frustration - with myself, with my body for succumbing to illness, for not being able to do enough, for not having energy, for feeling crabby and achy and out of sorts. being sick is just such a waste of time!

i tried to put into practice some of what i've learned at yoga about listening to my body. getting sick was surely my body's way of telling me that i needed to slow down. but i couldn't help but feel impatient and want it to just hurry up and get well so i could get back to all of life's obligations once again. but that seems to be taking some time.

but in the end, i've given in to my dull headache and all that snot clogging up my brain and said i'd return to work on monday. and i've rested and snuggled with the kittens and tried my very best not to consider being sick a colossal waste of time. and i might, just might, be starting to feel just a little bit better. just in time to care for husband, who seems to be coming down with the damn thing now too. summer colds are the worst.

when do you feel that you're wasting time?

* * *

the perils of following healthy living blogs.

at home in my body

my "to blog" list grows, but alas, time has not expanded and it leaves me feeling a bit diffuse and out-of-focus. i always suffer when i'm not writing. but while not writing, my mind has been occupied. occupied by questions of home, being present in my body and dreams of making a podcast.

last weekend, in connection with an amazing art project that i'm participating in with our local art group, trapholt museum in kolding and trekantsområde, a danish artist and a syrian artist, we had an amazing discussion of what home means. it's a question i increasingly ponder these days, as the country of my birth displays distressing signs of madness on the political front. denmark isn't that much better, but they did just regain their status as world's happiest. this, despite rabid right wing xenophobes at the helm. but it all leaves me feeling, once again, a lack of a place that feels like home. at least identity-wise. and maybe i'm also feeling split since my work week is spent away from the house i call home. but that seems to be serving to make our actual house feel more like home base. the place from which i go into the world, stretch my wings (and my muscles at yoga class these days), and soar. i'm loving work and the fun things i get to do there - photoshoots, video shoots, chasing a lorry through the scottish highlands, casting, arranging, planning fun projects. so the split isn't a sad one. and maybe the conclusion is that i now have multiple homes - i feel at home at work and at home, in copenhagen and in the countryside, with husband on the weekend and on my own during the week. maybe we're multifaceted and we have many homes. perhaps the constant is me and thanks to my newfound yoga practice, i am finding home right here within myself, in my own body. and i honestly can't remember when the last time i felt that was, if i ever did.

that fact hit me the other day, as i stretched into minute 5 of a yoga pose, my inner thigh muscles screaming for every bit of my attention. i couldn't remember the last time i really listened to my body in that way. was attuned to it. that it had my full attention. that i was just there, in it, and nowhere else. i really don't know if i've ever been fully in my body in that way before. ever. in nearly five decades. we live so much in our heads these days, it's hard to be fully present in our bodies. but, now, after the major wakeup call of acute and sudden back problems, i'm working on it. and yoga is definitely helping. with regular practice, maybe i'll be able to call my own body home.