yoga tears...and yoga smiles

So my workout schedule is a bit of a moving target right now. It has been all summer. And it might remain that way even once the school year has begun. And, oddly enough for this type A girl, I feel just fine with that!
This schedule only has a couple of "non-negotiables" - swimming on W and F at Circle C with Chrissie as coach and my lane and pool mates there. Really don't want to give that up before I have to! So, this means that I get to play around with the other days. Trying to do yoga 1-2 a week (1 day of bikram and 1 of Yoga Vida), swimming twice a week, Body Pump 1-2 times a week, running 1-2 times a week, walking as often as I can in the evenings... And throwing in a spin class every now and again. See...options. LOVE IT. And because of this, I went to a yoga class on Sunday afternoon that I need to keep near the top of my "favorite workouts to go to" list. The 5:30-6:30 class with Dean at Yoga Vida yesterday was awesome. He opened with a quotation about crying. I know. It sounds like a weird place to start and I've searched high and low for the full quotation from Stephen Cope's book Yoga and the Quest for True Self, but I can't find it - so I'll do my best to quote it here. The idea was that when we cry, we need to just really let it all out. Not hold back. Soak the pillow case that we're crying into...for on the other side of that last tear is happiness.
I loved this image. Maybe because I'm sometimes a "stuffer" of my feelings. I "hold it all together" rather than letting it all out. Or I let a little bit out but never a full-fledged meltdown. And I wonder how many times I've pushed happiness to the back-burner by doing this.
Dean went on for the rest of class and as we moved into each pose and listened to our bodies he encouraged us to let the parts cry out in pain or maybe even joy...and then, encouraged us to sit there long enough to let the "tears" become smiles. And you know what? In most poses it worked. Okay, not in all of them. I'm not sure my "tears" in pigeon or frog will becomes smiles in this lifetime, but I could at least display a look of serenity rather than a grimace.
Don't worry, I don't think I'll become a blubbering fool any time soon. Although those of you who know me well know that I do love a good cry! But I am going to keep in my mind that on the other side of that last tear is happiness, so I might let a few more tears flow instead of turning the faucet off prematurely.
With gratitude for moving targets of workout schedules that put me in classes that I've never been to that offer unexpected riches...
P.S. We also did partner work in this class - which I thought I would HATE since I didn't know anyone and yoga is sort of personal thing for me. But I ended up thinking it was okay. And, yes, my floor bow is a TON better when someone is urging me to kick harder and pull my shoulders back more... Yet again, going to new places - both physically and mentally - in yoga class.

friday quotation

“Life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets. So love the people who treat you right, forget about the ones who don’t, and believe that everything happens for a reason. If you get a chance, take it. If it changes your life, let it. Nobody said that it would be easy, they just promised that it would be worth it.”
~ Anonymous

Been hanging on to this one for a while...and now just seemed like the right time to post...and renew my commitment to these words.

lessons from Jane

In addition to realizing that because of Jane I know to cut roses (at a diagonal) just above the first five leaflet leaf under the stem, as I sat at Jane's funeral service today, I realized just how many lessons I'd learned from her. Many that others have learned as well.
Jane was the best sort of teacher because she taught by the way she lived her life. No preaching from Jane. No judgment from Jane. Just wisdom and experience and a genuine desire to listen and offer her thoughts about the situation. Or just to listen. Jane reminded us all to live life to the fullest - right until the very end. Apparently, just days before she went into the hospital for the visit when she would only leave as an angel on her way to heaven, she was asking one of her daughters for some hand weights because she thought she needed to stay in shape (she was 92, friends! This is perhaps what gets you to 92...and beyond!). And when she moved to San Antonio (from NOLA where she and Gran were steadfast friends for 50+ years) a few years ago, she was determined to make a new set of friends. Judging from the ladies who filled the pews in the church today, she accomplished this goal. Speaking of friends. She had many. Of all ages. From all walks of life. Jane knew no strangers. If she hadn't met you yet she was all the more eager to get to know you. And once she knew you, she considered you a friend for life. Of course, some friends (like Gran) fell into a special category. Those friends were like family.
She also taught me about faith. I think Jane was able to be so positive because she was grounded in the firm belief that God was taking care of her. That even the things that didn't appear to be "working out" really were because they were part of God's plan. That at the end of the day maybe we shouldn't worry so much because we really weren't in control of all that much! And you know, I think Jane created an optimistic world of self-prophecy. I should take note!
Accepting and warm, everyone felt special around Jane. She adored her family above all else - her husband, her two daughters, her five grandchildren, and her eleven great-grandchildren. I'm so glad she met all of them! I know someday they will know how lucky they were to have known her.
Inquisitive, caring, warm, honorable, wise...and, above all, loving, Jane will be missed. Mostly by her family, but also by her friends. Especially one whom I talk to daily. I was very aware as I sat in the church today that the words of her grandkids as they remembered Jane were very familiar as they were things I would say about Gran and my relationship with her. And so, in addition to all of the other lessons that I realized Jane had taught me, as I sat there today I also learned about letting go. I watched Jane's family let her go. I listened to Allison and Ann talk about their last days and moments with their mom. I talked to Katy about her experience with Jane's passing on. I prayed a silent prayer that I will be able to let go when it's Gran's time to go. Let go gracefully, that is. I will have to let go for she will be up in heaven and unless I make it a point to go with her, I'll still be here on earth while she rises up to meet Jane and Granddaddy and Harold and Dallas and Knox and Dell and Hartwell and Phyllis and Ann and her parents and Snooky and, and, and... My heart goes out to Gran right now in a special way. It must be very lonely to have all of your closest friends no longer with you. To know they are all gathered up above just waiting for you. And in this, my heart is also beginning to break a little and prepare for what I know is inevitable. That Gran will not be with us forever. There's nothing urgently wrong with her right now, but what she "has" is not going away and someday her body is just going to say, "I'm done". With congestive heart failure, a replacement heart valve that will eventually give out, and a pacemaker that I'm not sure they will replace (she's already been through two or three!) after it gives out, it's pretty much a miracle of modern medicine that Gran is able to do all that she does. I'd be lying if I didn't say that I'm worried that with most of her dear friends no longer a phone call away, she's going to find it more and more difficult to keep going. I've told her she has inherited all of the grandchildren of her friends who have lost grandmothers recently and she laughed and said she had her hands full with her own grandkids! She really is sharp as a tack...which is a blessing. But I know she's sad. She misses Jane and everyone else. And while I can't wait for her to be with them again, selfishly I'm praying that we get to keep her for as long as she's living a life of quality. When that ends, I'm happy for her to go join the party that's waiting for her up in heaven. Although I'm making no promises that I'll be terribly graceful about it. But Katy and her family reminded me that there is gracefulness in tears and hugs and the love of friends. And today reminded me that relationships - no matter the sort - are precious and should be nurtured and cherished. I'm not sure which of these lessons is the most important - I suspect they all are. Which is as it should be. Godspeed, Jane...and comfort to all who knew and loved her...especially my Gran and Jane's family. Another amazing woman I am blessed to have known. Jane, thank you for sharing your life with my family. I'm glad that you're up in heaven looking out for us...we all need another guardian angel.

farmshare fun!

I am not sure what I loved more about my farmshare delivery this week.
The produce: okra, corn, tomatoes, hot peppers, lima beans, mushrooms, mustard micro-greens, zucchini, butternut squash (which I thought was a fall garden item?!), summer squash, pears...YUMMY.
OR

The note that was on the top:
If you can't see it, it's a picture of happy vegetables and says "Hi, Ms. Guice! Happy eating!" signed with a heart from Lizzie. And this is just one of the many things that I love, love, love about my life here in Austin. Lizzie is a former student of mine (advisee to be exact) from the Class of 2004. I have kept up with her...because she's wonderful and because she's the oldest of three kids in her family and I had the honor of advising all of them. Which is part of this story of what I love about my life in Austin.
Lizzie is just one of the many families that I feel like make up my very large Austin family. Mostly extensions of St. Andrew's. Usually families of students whom I have advised because we create such a strong bond over the year - or years, if there is more than one child in the family. Members of my triathlon training team make up my Austin family, too. As do some folks from church. While no one replaces my "real" family (my actual relatives), I'm so blessed to have people who feel like family right here in Austin. It's part of what makes Austin feel like home to me - which it has been since 1996, making it the place that I've lived longer than any other place! And while it's grown SO much in the time that I've lived here (well, we've both grown...I like to think that Austin has grown out and that I've just grown up!), in many ways, it still feels like a smaller city than it is. And notes like the one from Lizzie on the top of my farmshare box make it feel that way. I discovered that she was working there when I (literally) stumbled over to the new Farmhouse office to return a plastic bin (I had two...which was two too many for my condo) and was fairly convinced that I'd landed in the wrong place. With a look of confusion on my face, I opened the door to Suite #110 and Lizzie greeted me. I was delighted but even more confused. She said, "Ms. Guice, what are you doing here?" "Well, I'm trying to find Farmhouse Delivery but I'm pretty sure I'm in the wrong place...but maybe the right place to see you!" She quickly explained that I was in the right place for both things and went on to describe this new office space and her role at Farmhouse. Very cool. That returning a plastic bin in which produce arrived would lead me to a former student is something very "Austin" for me. My Austin. The Austin that holds my life. My circles overlap all of the time - which could be annoying, but I choose for it to be warm and friendly instead. (And it keeps me out of trouble - usually!) So veggies or notes from former students? Which make me happier? Well, definitely the latter...but the fact that they came together on Friday represents something doubly sweet.

friday quotation

Enough is abundance to the wise.
- Euripides

I rarely turn to the ancient philosophers for quotations but this one crossed my path last week and it seemed to make a lot of sense...at least in theory. Not to put it into practice as I go through each day.

conferences...colloquiums...

...whatever you choose to call them, I have a love-hate relationship with them. LOVE them because they energize and inspire me. HATE them because my "to do" list when I get home is often monstrous, intimidating, and unrealistic. My time at Sarah Lawrence with the ACCIS group was in sync with my summer - wonderful and revealing. And also reassuring and just the right sort of gentle shove that I needed before returning to AUGUST at school. Honestly, there's nothing quite like August 1 to light a fire under me in terms of preparing for something. I feel like when August hits, school is pretty much here...and, well, it is!
But this year I get to go into it with new ideas, new reflections on schools (specifically NYU, Eugene Lang, Columbia, Barnard, Sarah Lawrence, Marist, and Fordham), new colleagues from around the country on whom I know I can call (and from whom I have a new set of resources!), and new optimism about what I can accomplish. I'm sure that I will encounter setbacks to my plans, switch around my goals, realign my ambitions with the realities of daily life, but, in general, this particular colloquium was less overwhelming and more encouraging. Or maybe that's just my frame of mind right now!

fading away

Not the sun...although it was when I flew from NYC to Austin this evening (via Baltimore).
Not summer...although with my return from NYC (vacation! plus some work, too) and the fact that it is now August, I do feel like summer is fading away. The 100+ degrees that greeted me in Austin at 11:00 p.m. this evening did not suggest that summer is fading away though.
But what I do feel like is fading away is my sweet Gran's circle of friends. She has lost two this past week. That seems cruel. One has hit a little too close to home for me. Sweet Jane who is the grandmother of Katy (I can't write "was" yet) passed away this morning. Gran and Jane have been friends for 50+ years. My mom and one of Jane's daughters (Allison) were in high school together. And then Katy (Allison's oldest daughter) and I were in college together. So we're three generations of friends. And there's something rare and rich and wonderful about that. I used to learn things about Katy from Gran and Katy would find out things about me from Jane when we were growing up. Whenever we were in New Orleans visiting our grandmothers at the same time we would play with one another. And although Katy grew up in Houston and I was in CA, we had this funny little bond. So it was quite funny that we both chose to go to UVA...and I think the grandmothers took great joy in seeing us develop our friendship there. Jane fell ill quite suddenly and this morning, quite literally, breathed her last. Katy is heartbroken. I'm heartbroken in a different way. Gran cried sweet tears of friendship on the phone with me today - which always rips my heart apart. And then (in the middle of the LaGuardia airport - awesome), I cried my own tears. For Katy. For Gran. For Jane's daughters and the rest of her family. For Gran's generation that seems to be fading away. They've lived amazing, and amazingly long (these women are all in their 90s!), lives. They've passed along wonderful stories and gifts and most of all LOVE to us. And I know we are blessed to have had them for so long. But I will still miss them. (And I did tell Gran that she needn't go getting any ideas about joining her friends any time soon!) Sweet dreams and sweet rest, Jane (and Ann B.)...your spirit lives on.