Clearing the Air (Between Our Ears)

We all know it: holidays are stressful. There’s no one in their good, right mind who approaches holidays with a completely open heart who then leaves the holidays with that same good will and lack of judgment or feeling of having been judged. Family is important. It reminds us who we are, who and where we come from, who we strive to be and, more importantly, not to be.

Even the best families can be taxing, though, and it's important to respect that stress and address it before it manifests into anger or unhealthy habits. Whenever I visit with my family, I rediscover my love of running. My folks live near Wompatuck State Park, and just an hour or two in those woods clears my head and ready’s me for the continued discussions in which I don’t necessarily want to participate. Yesterday, after a hard day of writing and research, I laced up my trail running shoes, borrowed my dad’s car (hey, I'm still his daughter), and headed to the woods.

I wish I found solace here years ago, growing up the black sheep of the town, nevermind my family, and needing a place to go where no one commented on the color of my hair which was everchanging or the contents of my poetry which is still evolving. Instead I hid under furniture and later built an old 3-speed English cruiser I picked up at a yard sale and rode it into the city. That became my meditative state, listening to the cars pass so swiftly on my left, maneuvering the cold Massachusetts air and my brittle artist heart. Had I found the woods, the journey to quiet would have been much shorter, I’m sure, but at least I still got some fresh air and some good stories out of it. I'd likely be a different person, maybe a bit more content to find stillness and hold it. I like who I am, I appreciate the attention to my surroundings that was fostered by riding the back roads through Quincy and Dorchester, but as an adult, the woods settle my soul like a warm tea. The ringing in my ears dims, if only a little, and I can hear my own breath puffing through the beats of my feet in time to the music in my headphones.

I dropped off my husband at the airport the day before, and as a consolation prize, bought myself some new headphones, the Yurbuds VentureTalk. The earbuds are comfortable, the cords don’t get tangled, and the buds have magnets on the back to easily control them when they aren’t in my ears. I didn’t receive a call to test the microphone and volume, but the sound quality was perfect for everything from Mortals to MIA. What’s best, I could still hear my footsteps as I pounded pavement and crunched through frosted leaves and puddles. There was no one in the woods, as the sun was setting and the gates were closed to cars, except for one lone mountain biker heading back to his car and an older couple sitting on a bench by a creek. It was nice to have the road to myself, to not worry too much about bikes or dogs blowing through on the trails, to focus and unfocus my eyes like apertures, to try to get myself lost and found, lost and found, weaving on and off the trails.

My sister recently told me about her time of meditation, the drive home from church on Sundays. She takes the long way as her daughters sleep, following the quiet roads that hug the shoreline. It takes her three or four hours and on a Sunday afternoon, there’s barely anyone on these small town back roads. She can’t unfocus her eyes, but her mind drifts in and out of true awareness. It’s here she’s able to truly focus on her life in the moment. The baby, whose just learned to walk this week, isn’t going to bang her head against a table corner, her toddler isn’t going to jump and crack her head open or have her feelings hurt at school. Her own dramas, for just these few hours a week, fade into the distance where they belong.

Here on the trail, shoes muddy and heart open, I am here in the present, I am here in the distance, where I belong.

chocolate cake asana

Whew! This has been a really busy month for me! Lots of essays and articles getting picked up, Thanksgiving, E.'s birthday, end of the cyclocross season, and a few dramatic shifts in weather. It's all  been great (well, the weather has been a little annoying, but it is December now), but I fear my fitness is starting to wane. Especially with that chocolate cake that's been slowly disintegrating in the refrigerator as E. and I break tiny pieces off throughout the days. Plus, I try not to get political here, but the stresses of the recent verdicts have been weighing heavy on my head, heart, and shoulders. I feel compelled to write something, but paralyzed with the question of validity in regards to what I have to say.

So last night, I unrolled the yoga mat that has been giving me the stink eye from the corner of the room all month, popped in the long Power Yoga DVD, and settled in to 75 minutes with my boy Rodney Yee. A few observations: I am stronger than I thought I was. Even stronger than I remember being. Poses that usually give me a hard time, especially just starting out again— plank to pushup to upward dog, warrior 3, half moon pose, and even the basic downward dog and warriors 1 and 2 have been known to be a challenge when I've been coming in cold, years previous— were surprisingly easy, and I could move through each one, and hold each one, smoothly and with calm breath. What I did notice though is that my flexibility has significantly lessened. Other poses I'd taken for granted, such as twisted half lotus, camel, and wheel, were painful and sometimes unachievable the way my body once did them with such ease. And maybe it's just getting older, but the pains in my right side have moved to my left. My guess is it's because I've been subconsciously nursing that side, fearful to cause myself more pain. It's interesting that I felt the strange pressures not only in my butt and hip, but also in my elbow. One of my big bike crashes did leave me with grapefruit sized elbows when I landed straight on the unsuspecting joints upon hitting the pavement, but it was years ago and usually they're only sore when I lean on them (reading in bed is forever an upside-down hobby from here on out). I feel great today, and realize that in order to make myself more flexible, I need to stretch more. I can't run up the Cathedral of Learning six times without first warming up and stretching before and afterwards. Hell, at 32 (and a half) with as many bike, skateboard, rollerblade, hockey, moshing and other crashes and bashes I've had, I shouldn't make it out of my bedroom without doing at least a sun salutation.

Meanwhile, I've been giddy with excitement over my upcoming monthlong retreat in Johnson, Vermont at the Vermont Studio Center. On the wellness end of things, there is a meditation building, daily morning yoga, and the ability to sign up for a month-long or 10-day membership to the Johnson College gym, which has a pool as well as all other gym amenities. Being Vermont, however, there will also be the opportunity to go skiing (downhill and cross country) snowboarding, and snowshoeing, though I will probably stick to the flatlands due to the cost of lift tickets, etc. The food is catered with as much local provisions as possible, and there are vegetarian meals about half the time. I'm a little concerned about this, and will be bringing along my Vega Protein and Greens, and am considering buying some About Time Ve, which is the vegan/gluten free/soy free protein of a local nutrition company. A couple years ago, they sponsored E's cycling team, but the team fell through and with it went our supply.

I know it's early, but in the interest of being proactive and mindful, I'm going to start my list of resolutions for 2015 now. Hopefully I make it to the New Year before giving up.

• daily yoga
• eat only when I'm hungry, but eat whenever I'm hungry
• be mindful in my interactions with people I love, and even more mindful of my interactions with people I distrust or dislike
• be fearless in my writing
• be daring in my submissions of writing to journals
• remember to get fresh air every day; wearing layers and keeping moving makes a world of difference
• remember that the reason I steer away from certain foods is because it makes me feel bad (physically or emotionally), and measure whether I want to feel bad for the sake of something that is easy or tastes good
• love myself and embrace my foibles and follies, because they are part of the human experience
• find pleasure in things that are uncomfortable; if no pleasure can be found, change the thing

How to basically survive Thanksgiving

After years of being vegan, then vegetarian, then eating meat in an effort to balance my health and stomach issues, then going back to vegetarian and working again towards veganism (whew, that's exhausting, isn't it?), Thanksgiving is basically the worst. It stands for the positive remembrance of a systemic genocide that began with an act of goodwill on the part of those sonata slaughtered. It is celebrated with the slaughter of animals that would be a genocide if they weren't bred specifically to be tortured and killed for this holiday. We give thanks for all we have, hopefully, and yet waste so much on food and poor nutrition and sleep it off, avoiding awkward conversations with relatives.

Americans eat an average of 4,000 calories in one sitting, then make a vague Facebook post thanking their family for supporting them through this or that, before passing out in front of the parade or football game on TV. There have been a number of articles this year on how to curb that calorie count, so I won't get into them here (you can find some helpful tips here or here, though). But I will tell you how I survive the holidays.

First, I try to not think so hard about what the holiday stands for, and instead truly, honestly reflect on how thankful I am for all I have in life. I am so fortunate. In addition to the things beyond anyone's control such as race, nationality, able-bodied status, and other things that put my at a general advantage in the world, I am loved, and have the ability to love. And it's all mutual! That's the best part about it. The people who I love are the same as those who love me. I'm also sheltered in a home I don't fear losing, and it's warm (right now the dog is laying by the heater sucking up all its warmth, so it's not at warm as it could be). I'm also on track to do what I want in my life, with my time and my energy, and that is such a truly rare and wonderful thing. I have an imagination and despite the beginning of this blog post, a hearty dose of optimism flowing through my veins. I'm thankful to have so many places ready to serve me food today.

But that food. This is where the trouble starts for many people. They want to have one of everything, to be polite, then go back for seconds of what they enjoyed because hey, it's Thanksgiving, why not indulge a little? A few hours go by, some drinks are slung back, and that stretched out stomach has had a chance to burn off just a bit of that food, just enough to give the feeling that more can— nay, should— be consumed. So turkey is picked at while the pies are brought out, and the whipped cream is dolloped on, and maybe ice cream. People pass out at 7 p.m. or sooner, then wake up at 11 and make a small plate of leftovers, feeling justified since they'd only really had one meal that day. But that one meal was over twice the caloric amount of an entire normal day.

Quick tips:

• Make the focus truly on mindfulness and giving thanks. Focus on all the love you feel around you, and if you're celebrating alone and indulge out of a feeling of loss, focus on your love of self and the other things in your life that are positive, or that you hope to make positive. Spread that love into the world.

• Make a plate the size you ordinarily would. Don't gorge yourself needlessly. But if you make a plate that looks on the light side, mentally you'll have an easier time justifying seconds, thirds, and fourths.

• Only eat the things you actually want and enjoy. If you don't really like mashed potatoes, you don't have to eat them just because Aunt May made a big bowl. 

• Start with the vegetables and fibrous foods and work around from there. They are more nutritious and filling than what else may be on the table, so you'll be less inclined to eat extra stuffing.

• Bring a healthy dish. If you can't be sure there will be anything healthy at your Thanksgiving meal, if you know your family is the type to completely drown everything in butter, salt, and sugar, then bring a dish you know you'll enjoy eating and that has a high nutrition value. No one else likes your roasted quinoa pilaf stuffed squash? More for you, and that means less pressure to eat poorly. Even better, some of your relatives may actually enjoy that dish, and you could start a new tradition of having healthier foods at your holiday meals.

• Get moving. Tag, touch football, ultimate frisbee, or an active video game will get the blood flowing while still bonding with family. If that isn't an option, go for a walk. I take my dog with me to my mother-in-law's house. They love each other and he's part of the family, but an added bonus is that when I start to feel stuffed and lethargic, I can take my pooch for a quick walk around the block. It gives us an opportunity to get some exercise and fresh air, plus he can relieve himself of his doggly duties.

• Be selective. If there are a bunch of desserts spread about, choose one or two to sample. Make some rules for yourself if that's helpful, such as only eating home made desserts, or only eating holiday specific desserts. Going in with a plan ahead of time will make it easier once you see the dessert table and your sweet tooth starts salivating.

• Don't take the day too seriously. It is, after all, just one day. While you'll thank yourself later for being mindful of how you treat your body, one day of indulgence isn't going to make you unhealthy, just as one day of exercise and calorie counting isn't going to make you healthy. 

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I hope you truly have a wonderful holiday.