A Different Value System

It's my yogic birthday, or at least it was last week, meaning that it's been three years since my first class with David Vendetti at Back Bay Yoga in Boston.  Lots of things have changed since then-I no longer crave hot yoga to prove that I've worked hard in yoga, my hamstrings and hips are more open, and my back craves yoga all of the time.  In the last three years, I've bruised my coccyx, thrown out my low back carrying a lounge chair, had a bike accident and subsequently messed up my right knee, and developed left hand tendonitis.  My yoga practice has shifted dramatically since that first class.

I remember being a yoga junkie, but more because I liked the pain, the hard work, the sweat- of a forrest class.  I knew even then, that vinyasa was a subtle art, of flexibility and strength, but I preferred what I knew best-strength.  Since then, I've lost and slowly regained the strength in my upper body, as well as learning to appreciate the slowness of a non-forrest class.  I remember, in that first year, wanting to feel the burn, the quest for strength and sweat.  Then, I moved to Rochester, in which the culture was an extreme opposite-of middle aged women and men trying to relieve pain and injuries.  I took Iyengar style class for part of my first year (boy was that slow and thoughtful-complete opposite of forrest) and then I took Anusura class until I developed tendonitis.  For me, anusura was a lovely fusion of vinyasa and conscientious anatomy-we still worked hard ( although we could've worked a teensy bit more sometimes!) and I learned to love the length, the elongation, the focus on how it feels, rather than how many fancy poses I could do.  I felt comfortable, welcome, and totally within my skills as a slightly injured person.  My teachers knew about my occasional aches and pains, and were committed to helping me find strength and success.  And then, I moved again.

I now am navigating the tricky path of not living particularly close to the studio I like, while also not having enough time to go often.  It definitely makes me pine for the boredom and temporal spaciousness of Eastman.  Partly out of curiosity, and partly because I missed the right bus to SoBoYo, I went to a class at Back Bay Yoga's newer studio space, which I believe is in the old lululemon space on Boylston. It's a beautiful studio, with lovely murals and detailing and all of that, but a definite contrast to South Boston's vibe and decor.  My class was ok-it was very wrist intensive, and I was reminded at how differently I practice now.  I understand the appeal of the heated room and all, but I practice so much slower now.  With my injuries, I practice more mindfully, at least for me.  I am careful in all of my backbends, careful not to hyperextend my joints in downdog, careful to pad my knees in deep lunges.  I watched as women in beautiful new lululemon tanks and shpants/shorts slingshotted through their backbends and sun salutations, gracefully, but not necessarily focused on anatomy. I, on the other hand, wore my old clothing with pride, and took my time in everything.  When instructed to do pushups, I declined and did dolphin pushups.  When everyone else did handstand jumps, I hung out in dolphin pose.  The teacher was very understanding-I think she trusted my judgment enough.  But I got a funny vibe from some of the people in the class, as though my slowness was a lack of fitness or energy.  Hardly-I had just come from acupuncture.

I treat yoga so differently now-as an opportunity to lengthen, to take a step back from music, and to consciously focus on the way that I'm using my body.  To breathe, to stretch, to extend, to rest.  I can go running if I need adrenaline-yoga is the place for space, not the place to do tons of sun salutations.  I don't have the nicest or newest yoga clothes, and I don't really care about it.  I can't do arm balances or hand stand, and I don't care.  Because yoga is something so different for me than what it is to others, and it's my time for me.  My limitations are frustrating, but a simple fact of life, and something to work with, rather than work against.  It's my me time, and no one can take that away from.  (Although I wouldn't mind a nice pair of running leggings from Lululemon, now that I think about it...)

I'm excited about...

I'm excited about a lot of silly things, like the delicious drink I'm currently imbibing, (St. Germaine liquer), and the yoga class I went to today, and the fact that I have my retainer now, which I forgot to take to Canada. But more seriously, here at the events of note:

1) Arcade Fire has a new album out in August, and I'm definitely excited about it, even if it's not amazing. I haven't seen them live, and I probably won't get the chance to, but I'm just excited for them to escape isolation.
2) Belle and Sebastian is touring in the fall, as is Dirty Projectors, and I've already got tickets for the Vampire Weekend/Beach House show, so it looks like a delightfully concert filled fall and summer is heading my way! Might also get to see a few shows in Cali in July/August.
3) I'm giving a recital at the dinky festival in Santa Barbara that I'm going to. That makes me feel important, but also motivates me to practice for something. I haven't totally decided on rep, but I'm either going to do:
Ligeti Sonata (1,2,3,5 or some combo)
Theofanidis
Bach Gamba Sonata III or Biber Passacaglia
Takemitsu "Bird came down the walk"
and possibly some by Yann Tiersen. All pieces that I like and am excited to learn.
4) I just got an overdue check from my work, which has been paying me incorrectly for months. Hello 300 dollar check!
5) And I got a tax refund. Yes.
6) I'm playing John Adams' "Shaker Loops" at Banff with him conducting in the first week of July. First stand. Woohoo!
7) I'm embracing the color yellow.
8) I'm seeing "The pains of being pure at heart" on Friday. They're a band. Yay! And Alison Krauss folksy stuff on Saturday.


listening to: Beach House and The Pains of Being Pure at Heart

When the caterpillar looks in the mirror and discovers its beauty

Do you ever look at yourself, really look, in the mirror, and wonder how you've become whatever it is that you are? I've lately taken to this thought, maybe in the excess solitude that befalls me in this current location, or because I've been listening to too much depressing music and reading sad short stories. Would I recognize myself at 23 (almost 24) ten years ago? I certainly don't look that different. I've still got the familial trademarks to which I cling-the short vienna sausage toes, the overmuscular calves, the well fed slightly lumpy middle section, and a decent chest size. I've taken to realizing that my taste in clothing in middle school was actually quite good, ahead of my time perhaps, and I've begun wearing some of my old clothes, since I lacked the courage, the perspicacity, and style to really pull it off. Sometimes I think that I've finally become the person I wanted to be 10 years ago-more courageous, articulate, less afraid of consequences, yet still wise and rational. At the same time, I see this vestiges of my former personas-the fear- of others' censure, of judgment, rejection, solitude. I walk on a precipice between embracing and rejecting this principles; transgressing my fears, yet still retaining a hollowness when I realize that everyone else is having a campfire without anyone inviting me. I remember those days when I used to linger in the bathrooms of school, in order to avoid being seen, alone, friendless, and fearful of the judgment that comes with it. Or the running away from awkward social situations, with groups with whom I knew, and still know, I don't belong with.

I remember the tragic days of spending time with the tennis team, with the girls of bouncy, buoyant youth, money, and suntanned perfection, and their expensive polo shirts and designer jeans. Or the individualist kids in my class- the ones with wit and humor and great taste in music, whom everyone wanted to date. I never fit into one group, as I do not now, here. I instead navigate an obstacle course of social situations, finding a common thread, or ground, appraising other's social skills and establishing whether or not it would indeed be useful to be their friend, whether they could learn to care for me, as I so quickly would for them. Or whether a brief friendship would arise from convenience, from youth and proximity, rather than any shared values, personal behaviors, or beliefs in goodness, love and caring. This is the field I navigated back then, and left empty handed, and it is the mountain I still scale, though equipped more fully than in days past. I used to be so ashamed of my loneliness, so desperate for someone to recognize me, to see my beauty of personality, to want me in his or her life. Now, I crave it less and less, as I know that people do care about me, just maybe not the ones here right now. I've looked in the mirror hard and long, and I've criticized so much of myself, analyzed so many of my faults, that I thought I might never be beautiful to anyone, not even myself. But the mirror is deceptive, and time is like water: cleansing, ever moving, always changing. Water is what creates our body-too much or too little causes death, in conjunction with an ever changing current of emotions and feelings that befall us.

I am not sure that 23 or 24 is quite what I imagined. I haven't fallen in love yet, or started a brilliant career in veterinary sciences or writing, or really music, for that matter. And I haven't become glamorously thin, like I always hoped I would, nor have I suddenly woken up with the voice of Ella Fitzgerald. But the things that have happened have been lovely, and organic, and change has come slowly and deliberately. For the first time in my life, I felt like someone worth knowing this year, someone with social graces, and a nice home, and lovely friends, and chic style. A woman cutting her hair short is about to make a grand change in her life, and I have. While I still see the echoes of my former awkward self, I retain the outer shell of a courageous young woman, neither child nor full adult, embracing the solitude of this moment, this day, this week in time. If I saw myself today, when I was 13, I'd be pleased, if not slightly disappointed, but trusting in the person I'm becoming, and the way that time has a way of unfolding itself, like a note someone passed to you in middle school. Everything just is.

The News

So I've been neglecting the blog, or at least the blog as pertains to me life. Points of order:

1) Yay for health care! Down on all of those people who seem to think we're all going to be euthanized, or that Obama is planning on the next apocalypse. Chill the fuck out, people! Things are not changing that much- most of america will still be on private health insurance- they might just pay less. I realize that may conflict with your socialist, anarchist views, but the rest of us need something to take care of us when Marx isn't.

2) Yay for kicking into forearm balance on my lonesome!

3) Yay for going to Quebec in May, and spending some quality with the one, the only, MARY-KATHRYN. I got off the waitlist for Domaine, which means I'll get to do some intensive Beethoven quartet time, and some time in my favorite of all the Canadian provinces.

4) Yay for going to Toronto to see Vampire Weekend on Tuesday, even though I'm ditching ensemble and must get gravely "ill" to get out of it.

5) Yay for sunshine, boo for 30 degree weather.

6) Yay for deciding on going back to Banff in July. After having a tough decision between Banff and bang on a can, I decided on Banff, since the wilderness is calling to me. And it's cheaper.

7) Yay for some super sweet offers of my future:

a) Yizhak Schotten, the slightly nutty teacher of University of Michigan wants me to be his TA at this random summer festival in Santa Barbara. I played in a masterclass for him last week, and I guess he liked it. More details to follow.

b) There's an open teaching job at SUNY potsdam teaching viola as secondary instrument to Music Education majors, and Carol suggested I apply. It would mix up the whole "move to Boston" plan, at least for a semester, but it would be a sweet gig. ($12000+ for 1 semester) I have applied-we'll see what happens! (This does mean that I wouldn't move until January, if this happens...we'll talk, Ju.)

8) Yay for my new hot pink flats- $10 at urban. yes. they're awesome and you want them.

9) Two boo's for the fact that many of my friends are waitlisted at Banff, as I want to spend time with them. And boo for the fact that I have a shit ton of homework these days, and I'm playing a whack ass contemporary piece for someone, in which half the battle is figuring out the rhythm.

10) 1 boo for a difficult week of sleep, perhaps due to watching "Zodiac" on sunday night...

Total for the week: 8+ yays. a few boos. Overall, a successful week in the life.

25 Things About Me.

People have been posting this on facebook, but I wanted to also keep it here.

 Here's my 25 things.

1. I don't like driving in the far left lane of the freeway- too close to the wall.

2. I'm a Buddhist in training, a yogi, a former raw foodist, a save-the-world-ist, and general hippie-dippie weirdo that I never thought I'd become.

3. I have to read every night before I go to bed.  No matter what.  (Novels are best.)

4. Glasses look sexy on everyone else but me.  Plastic framed ones are best.

5. I like to look at old people on the subway and imagine what they looked like as kids, teenagers, and young adults.

6. Primary colored accessories and shoes can really brighten one's day.

7. I like making things.  Cooking, crafting, writing...I'm not necessarily good at it, but I love it.

8. I obsessively have to put on chapstick from a tub, not a tube, every 15-20 minutes.

9. I compulsively buy magazines, even though I know I shouldn't.

10. I still wear my retainer every other night to bed.

11. I sometimes feel too privileged and I fear that some great amount of suffering will soon befall me.

12. I love putting things in the dishwasher or doing laundry, but I'm terrible at putting clean things away.

13. If I had to pick between having an herb and vegetable garden, dogs, and a job, and having husband, I wouldn't necessarily pick the latter.  (especially if lavender was involved)

14. Libraries are my favorite places on earth.  Seriously.

15. I start every day with a hot beverage.  If I don't, I never really wake up.

16. I have a passion for popular music that exceeds my enthusiasm for classical music.  This is mildly distressing.

17. I have a perpetual desire to learn.

18. Snow pisses me off. It's pretty if you're inside watching it, but annoying if you're outside.  Rain, on the other hand, is glorious.

19. I secretly procrastinate about stupid things.

20. The last time a guy had a crush on me was when I was 8.  At least, that's the last time I knew about it.

21. I have had at least one pair of converse all-stars every year since I was 6.

22. I am fascinated by Indian culture.  Hinduism, Buddhism, Bollywood, Classical Dance...

23. I think that writing letters to people is the best way to show that I care.  Sending mail is a wonderful opportunity for love.

24. I have eaten a salad almost every day for the last 7 or 8 years.  I like my greens.

25.  I have a tendency to be too sentimental- I often am overwhelmed by the beauty of situations.  I just keep it on the D.L.

*26.*  I apparently have my own special vocabulary of unique words that most other people don't use.  This is what I've been informed of by others.