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Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
It's a mystery to me
Why haven't you decided to follow me on my new blog?
I ponder the notion.
If you already do, half of me begs your forgiveness for this (perhaps) annoying little post.
The other half of me is sweeping the cat hair off my floor with my hair.
Oh, yeah - that's a standing forward bend.
Whatever it is, please do it with me over at http://www.marrymeyoga.wordpress.com/!
There's a new post.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
New Address
Friends,
I have been considering using wordpress to host my blog. I decided in the process to retool and focus my intentions for my blog. The process bore a new blog with a new address. Own Your Backbone lives on for a while as I transition to my new digs.
Wordpress (thankfully) does not allow you to tranfer followers from one blog to another. Makes perfect sense. As I build my base I would so appreciate your considering following me at:
marrymeyoga
Thanks and I look forward to 'seeing' you around the blogosphere. Have a wonderful/happy day!
Clair
I have been considering using wordpress to host my blog. I decided in the process to retool and focus my intentions for my blog. The process bore a new blog with a new address. Own Your Backbone lives on for a while as I transition to my new digs.
Wordpress (thankfully) does not allow you to tranfer followers from one blog to another. Makes perfect sense. As I build my base I would so appreciate your considering following me at:
marrymeyoga
Thanks and I look forward to 'seeing' you around the blogosphere. Have a wonderful/happy day!
Clair
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Carole King and Pit Bull: An uncommon good
What can Carole King and Pitbull possibly have in common?
She croons about the earth moving: He's the International Love:
I feel the earth move under my feet You put it down like New York City
I feel the sky tumbing down I never sleep, wild like Los Angeles
I feel my heart start to tremblin' My fantasy, hotter than Miami
Whenever you're around. I feel the heat
Oh Miss International Love
Oh Miss International Love
On February 11, from the East Coast to the West and all over the world, people everywhere are showing International Love. From Turkey to Tokyo to Cairo. From Virginia, to Florida to Montana to Colorado to Ohio to Iowa - We are moving the earth under our feet, running for Sherry Arnold. Simultaneously, in complete synchronicity at 9 a.m. (Mountain Time) thousands of people are dedicating their routes to this amazing teacher, wife, mother, daughter, friend and cousin to my Beth. On January 7, Sherry left for her usual run and has not been seen since. She is presumed dead and two foul, disgusting people are being held in custody for her random murder. A husband, a parent, a sister, daughter, a son, family, a country, the world is deeply saddened. But even the most repulsive evil can't stop the earth from moving in love and support for all those so deeply effected by the unspeakable tragedy. Run, walk, jog, roller blade, skate, dance skip, cartwheel for Sherry and her family on February 11.
Can we light up the world with international healing love?
Can we make a difference and stop the poison from spreading?
HELL YES, WE CAN.
GOOD IS BETTER THAN EVIL.
WE WILL SHOW THOSE #+@** WHO WINS.
How, you say?!
Move the earth under your feet, baby. Feb. 11 at 9 a.m (MT).
Run for Sherry.
That's right. I'm talking to you.
Be a part of the healing. Not the hurt.
Indulge me this little satisfaction: In the town of Biliston (sp.?) where the SOB's are being held, a huge contingency of runners (aka healers) are moving the earth right near the prison, running right on by for Sherry. Take that, you scum. We win.
We all love you Sherry. We love you Sidney, Montana. Can you feel it? You will. We're moving the earth for you, internationally sending healing love.
If you are in Richmond or Goochland, contact me and I'll hook you up with a bib and deets on where we're putting down 5 miles for Sherry. Join us or just wear the bib on your own run.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
I'm not smiling
Warning: This post contains a number of pictures of me. I'm not in love with myself. I am on a mission to spread the Gospel of Sunscreen. This Truth can save you from face hell. I am clawing my way up, but it has been no fun down here.
I'm not smiling, because I can't. Think: Mrs. Doubtfire. She can't fully emote because her meringue (uhh, make-up) will come off.
I wish my carac ointment tasted like pie. I wish I could open my mouth that wide. (TWSS)
I am in week 4 of a chemotherapy cream treatment to remove a number of AK's or precancerous cells from my face. I have had 4 Mohs (2-forehead, 1-scalp, 1-collarbone) surgeries to remove full-on squamous cell carcinomas. I am writing about this experience to vent a little, communicate perspective I have gained and to encourage regular use of sunscreen.
The experience. There are many aspects to this.
Here's the rub, pun intended: I was/am not a sun-worshipper. I like a healthy, sun-kissed look and had a couple of Cancun sunburns in college. But I never could sit still long enough to 'work on my tan'. My tan, however did work on me.
I have used sunscreen everyday now for a number of years. You can be sure, it is my mantra from now on; most especially with my children. THE DAMAGE IS REALLY DONE WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG.
Certainly, I haven't been able to stop working, teaching Yoga or running my children (the nanny is in Aruba) so it's been interesting to say the least. BTW, I look good in these photos. It was alot worse, a creepy mess.
And so... I go to the doctor on Tuesday to see if any yucky spots are left that need surgery. My skin will heal. My children and I have forgotten what I used to look like when they let me come to the bus stop. They like me to stay at the front door for now. It's very, very temporary and a relatively short span of time. Not like real burn victims who undergo months and months of painful treatment. Every time I get called creepy and want to cuss as I apply the medicine I send healing energy to the burn unit 25 miles away where a young boy, a hero who saved his best friend in fire recovers from his burns.
I will be back at the bus stop soon. Smiling because I can.
I'm not smiling, because I can't. Think: Mrs. Doubtfire. She can't fully emote because her meringue (uhh, make-up) will come off.
I wish my carac ointment tasted like pie. I wish I could open my mouth that wide. (TWSS)
I am in week 4 of a chemotherapy cream treatment to remove a number of AK's or precancerous cells from my face. I have had 4 Mohs (2-forehead, 1-scalp, 1-collarbone) surgeries to remove full-on squamous cell carcinomas. I am writing about this experience to vent a little, communicate perspective I have gained and to encourage regular use of sunscreen.
The experience. There are many aspects to this.
- applying a cream that can burn layers off your face onto new fresh raw skin every morning. (Cuss, anyone?)
- watching as my face progress to gross
- deal with children in public call me "Creepy"
Kim Cattrall, Sex in the City - did you see that episode?
But, In general I have felt like a prisoner of my face for a month.Here's the rub, pun intended: I was/am not a sun-worshipper. I like a healthy, sun-kissed look and had a couple of Cancun sunburns in college. But I never could sit still long enough to 'work on my tan'. My tan, however did work on me.
This morning.
Certainly, I haven't been able to stop working, teaching Yoga or running my children (the nanny is in Aruba) so it's been interesting to say the least. BTW, I look good in these photos. It was alot worse, a creepy mess.
Before a Bikram Class, yesterday. The lipstick makes me feel better.
I will be back at the bus stop soon. Smiling because I can.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
The Perfect Night
For a few minutes this evening, I had the Perfect Night. I had just returned from teaching a Yoga class at the Y and my house was empty. Perfection. It is rare that I am in my home alone. I crave solitude in the space where I live because most of the time the 3 children, 4 animals, 1 husband and my neurosis make a lot of noise and take up a lot of space. Not tonight.
Peace invoked. Check. (Om Shanti!)
Wine poured. Check. (Om Shanti, Shanti!)
Silly Lifetime Drama on boob tube. Check. (Om Shanti, Shanti, Shanti!)
Amidst my PMS, frustration over the state of laundry, and my martyrdom (I am the only one who cares about our surroundings, blah, blah, blah) - I found bliss. Why? I wonder. I know why.
I AM PREGNANT. WITH HOPE. Hope for long lasting peace and contentedness. Hope for a deeper daily connection with The Divine. I rubbed my belly and was lit up with the moment. The only thing we have. The only thing that's real. I'm naming her Hope. Mary must have had The Perfect Night too. She was truly pregnant with our Hope. She was not drinking Pinot Grigio, I suspect but having a baby in a barn may have led her to.
I'm happy because I don't live or birth baby's in a barn. Thank you!!
I did birth these nuggets and I am so pregnant with hope for them.
I don't even notice the dirty unmatched socks on the kitchen floor. It was the Perfect Night. In honor the the Perfect Night of over 2000 years ago, I think I'll do a camel. (I'm sure there was one nearby.)
What are you pregnant with?
Peace invoked. Check. (Om Shanti!)
Wine poured. Check. (Om Shanti, Shanti!)
Silly Lifetime Drama on boob tube. Check. (Om Shanti, Shanti, Shanti!)
Amidst my PMS, frustration over the state of laundry, and my martyrdom (I am the only one who cares about our surroundings, blah, blah, blah) - I found bliss. Why? I wonder. I know why.
I AM PREGNANT. WITH HOPE. Hope for long lasting peace and contentedness. Hope for a deeper daily connection with The Divine. I rubbed my belly and was lit up with the moment. The only thing we have. The only thing that's real. I'm naming her Hope. Mary must have had The Perfect Night too. She was truly pregnant with our Hope. She was not drinking Pinot Grigio, I suspect but having a baby in a barn may have led her to.
I'm happy because I don't live or birth baby's in a barn. Thank you!!
I did birth these nuggets and I am so pregnant with hope for them.
I don't even notice the dirty unmatched socks on the kitchen floor. It was the Perfect Night. In honor the the Perfect Night of over 2000 years ago, I think I'll do a camel. (I'm sure there was one nearby.)
My dog loves me!
What are you pregnant with?
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