sharing deserving stories
my first NG (nasogastric) tube insertion in lab!
I’ve been less than a fabulous blog-keeper of late. I’ve been in a whirlwind – between school, clinical rotations, my job at the dermatology office, teaching yoga, getting engaged (EEEK!), and having family and friends visit – the blog has fallen to the wayside.
However, I’m resolving today to continue on with writing. I’m not so much interested in sharing the nuances of my life as it unfolds deep in the heart of Texas, but starting to anonymously share some of the remarkable people I’ve encountered as I’m beginning my career in nursing (and the periodic yoga student anecdote). Theirs are stories that need to be shared and told and spread. Some are courageous and valiant – others are bizarre, laughable – comedic.
normal school supplies: 3 sizes of needles, bacteriostatic sodium chloride, tape, gauze, fake piece of human flesh...
I told my dad the first time a patient’s story and life brought me to tears. She (the patient) had Stage 4 Metastatic Infiltrating Ductile Carcinoma – terminal breast cancer. I’ll tell her story in further detail later – but as a rather green nursing student – interacting with her slapped me in the face. Breast cancer now affects 1 in 8 women. My dad reassured me that it is ok to be touched – and if I wasn’t this early on, I should reconsider my work. I hope I never see the day I’m not able to be touched by these kinds of people. Sometimes I worry that I may err on the side of taking in too much – not keeping myself distanced enough. But I’m still green. And I’m okay with it that way for now.
I hope in some small way to pay tribute to these patients and what they’ve taught me beyond what I can find in any textbook or case study.
peace, love, and namaste -
kimbo
time to catch my breath
phew.
Louie says "I luv to spoonz da pillowz'
It’s been a busy few weeks! When I first got to Houston, I had left my job, graduated from my yoga teacher-training program, and was long-since done with my undergraduate degree. All I had were some worldly possessions (that fit into my hatchback or four boxes I had shipped) and my Silky Terrier, Louie. No commitments, no obligations, no place to be at any given time… for about six weeks.
How quickly things change. I think that time let me really recharge my emotional and physical batteries – I have this tendency to overcommit myself and my energy. I learned some time ago that it can be more meaningful and inspiring to learn to say ‘no’ than it is to keep saying ‘yes’ to new commitments. But this is a daily challenge for me!
Last week I had three consecutive exams – and no shortage of pressure. Two for my A&P2 class (one lab practical, one lecture exam) and the only Pharmacology math exam of the semester on which we must score a 90% to be considered passing. In the midst of that I had four bar shifts at my new cocktail waitressing job and taught two yoga classes. I’m not kidding when I say I was studying conversion factors, IV drug calculations, and physiology of an EKG behind the bar. True Life: I’m a multitasker.
Friday morning I pulled myself out of bed (even though I worked late the night before) to go to the 9:00 a.m. yoga class I have really come to adore. I made time to relax all day and made a home-cooked meal. Saturday morning I taught my regular class out in the suburbs… which always puts me in a good mood. It really means the world to have regular attendees at these classes that are still so new to me. Familiar faces in a new and still relatively unfamiliar town means so much to me. Starting this week I will be teaching one more regular class (which brings the tally up to three) at a brand new fitness club opening close to where I live in Rice Village.
There is one more development in my life these days - I got an internship. This really is special for me because my first job in the professional world included coordinating an internship program. I skipped the intern role and I don’t think that it was good for me to skip this part of paying my dues. Now, more than ever – I see my life coming full circle. In the next few weeks I will begin working with a performance improvement project with MD Anderson Cancer Center’s Emergency Department. MD Anderson is a world-class facility and the #1 NIH (National Institute for Health)-funded cancer center.
I toured the ER about two months ago and it’s just a really special place. Patients coming through this ER are so different from the stereotypical ER – there are no stab wound victims, stomachs to be pumped from late-night bar patrons, screaming kids with middle ear infections – no. It’s a pretty quiet place – everyone there has some type of cancer. These patents are experiencing serious complications with their medications, their condition is worsening, or their pain needs better management. Cancer patients present unique challenges to health care; often their cancer medications create certain barriers and they can’t take classes of drugs due to risk of liver or kidney toxicity, and the type of pain they experience is so different from what most of us could imagine. I am humbled to get to meet some of these patients and be of service to the doctors and professionals who are dedicated to lessening the burden of cancer.
How can I find balance through all of these new developments? While it’s true that being back in school and teaching/taking yoga so often doesn’t even feel like work, but it still is a lot to juggle. Making time to take at least one yoga class a week (and not just be in the role of teacher) is essential. Teaching is so important to me, it’s such a big part of who I am. When I’m not teaching or participating in a yoga class I try to remain conscious of my breath. How many days can go by before you even realize that you’ve been breathing? Right before each exam I feel my heartbeat getting quicker, blood pressure starting to rise – and remind myself to just breathe. Before bed every night I have a habit of repeating one of two mantras… if not both.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
Detach. Intend for everything to work out as it should, then let go and allow opportunities and openings to come your way. Don’t listen to the voice that says you have to be in charge; that constant vigilance is the only way to get anything done. Sometimes the outcome you try to force may not be as good for you as the one that comes naturally.
This week is settling into a much more approachable pace. No late night shifts at the bar until Thursday, regular classes (no exams) and the internship doesn’t start for a few more weeks. Now I can appreciate the calm and enjoy the leisure. I slept in until 1015 this morning (eek!) and planning a delicious dinner for tonight – turkey gorgonzola burgers topped with grilled eggplant, maybe some rosemary new potatoes on the side.
Here are some recent fun photos 
Louie's new summer haircut - Themis-approved
a big smooch from the after-party celebration for Josh's Barrister's Ball
on ahimsa and trading in
I will take these over heels all day, every day. happy feet
Nearly half a year ago when I first started conceptualizing a life different from the one I had, I fantasized. I dreamed about renouncing my 8-5 and trading in my business casual wardrobe for Chacos, jeans, and a backpack.
It’s early March, and here I am. I’m teaching about 4 classes a week on average for the gym, and just got a contract to start teaching for a new pole fitness studio (that also wants to offer yoga) opening in late April. Saturday night I will work my first shift as a cocktail waitress at a brand new bar opening up in midtown, european themed. I love and adore my classes. Ask, and you shall receive.
It’s been quite a lifestyle change. I went from having a salary direct deposited every two weeks to relying on financial aid and working on my feet – whether teaching some warrior sequencing or taking drink orders. I had a lot of friends and family ask me if I thought I was ‘giving up’ or ‘throwing away’ everything I had built in Florida. To this day, I still have no hesitations about my choice to leave, and I knew that it was the right time for me to go when I realized I wasn’t giving anything up or throwing anything away, but taking on something even more wonderful and fulfilling.
I sometimes can get on my own case about worrying - worrying about worrying… sounds productive, eh? I have fear about the how and when and why of things. I went to a yin yoga class (it’s become a weekly must) a few weeks ago and heard something that really resonated with me. There is an ancient yoga principle known as ahimsa- meaning non-violence. The traditional interpretation of this idea is extended to animals, and a big reason why many yogis fashion themselves vegetarian. Our teacher asked us to consider this idea in our thoughts – and how judgement can literally be felt. We all know that feeling – a glance from a stranger can make you feel almost immediately uncomfortable, insecure, sexy, or anywhere in between. What about when we judge ourselves for thinking something, feeling a certain way? Guilty, as charged. I’m trying to practice some ahimsa toward myself, when I start to wish I could buy a plane ticket to visit family or a friend in another state.
The New York Times probably didn’t even know it was publishing an article about ahimsa – but researchers are discovering something ‘new.‘ So that’s my current intention. I’m embracing my new life, where I can wake up at 9 or 10, enjoy a leisurely morning (with time to make a real breakfast… like this morning: homemade organic oatmeal sweetened with agave nectar and turbinado sugar, chopped strawberries and blueberries!), catch the headlines or a yoga class, teach a class, attend my academic classes, make dinner, study for a few hours, and go to bed late (midnight, 1am!). What a change of pace. Breathe in, breathe out, and redirect my thoughts to gratitude.
“Gratitude is wine to the soul. Go ahead, get drunk.” – Rumi
yoga and the moon
Ever have a day where you’re just feeling sluggish? Unusually tired, lacking energy… have trouble getting out of bed despite plenty of restful sleep – that foggy feeling you can’t seem to beat? We’ve all been there. Now try adding some kind of vigorous routine to that feeling – hot yoga, a spinning class, a regular run can feel exponentially harder than it would any other day. I’m having that kind of day, and I need to muster up the energy to teach a class in 25 minutes and another one tomorrow morning!
I started thinking about these fluctuations in energy and trying to see if I could discern a pattern. It’s not just that time of the month – because most guy friends and family seem to go through the same thing. Then in teacher training our teacher said something that resonated with me.
Ashtanga yoga was greatly emphasized in my teacher training. There are several series of Ashtanga, starting with the Primary Series. The primary series is known as Yoga Chikitsa, meaning yoga therapy. It’s usually 90-100 minutes long and very vigorous, and differs from hot yoga in that it works to externally heat the body through rapid, fluid movement and lots of sun salutations. Fluid progression from poses heats up the body tissue from the inside out, so that by the end of the traditional 10 sun salutations that begin the practice, many a well-seasoned yogi is starting to sweat.
Our master teacher brought the concept of moon awareness to the picture. Many Ashtanga practitioners take moon days to rest on both the full moon and the new moon. I’ve studied a good amount of western science which might scoff at this notion. But after further explanation, west and east seemed to reconcile.
Observing moon days helps increase our awareness of the world in which we live. Teaching us to start paying attention to the cosmos, appreciating them and their vastness, and realizing that each one of us is an integral fiber in the fabric of the universe.
If The Buddha Dated, by Charlotte Kasl - fantastic read whether you're single, married, 'it's complicated', or anywhere inbetween.
Secondly, the moon has powerful gravitational pull in relation to the natural bodies of water on earth. The new moon exerts the most ‘push’ of any part of the regular lunar cycle, and is often considered by farmers the best time to plant new seeds – as it is thought to help ground new growth. The full moon exerts the most ‘pull’ in contrast, also changing the dynamics of energy in the earth and our bodies.
Still skeptical? Here’s a quote from one of my favorite books lately.
If the moon governs the tides of the great oceans of the earth and our bodies are made of 70% water, why wouldn’t the phase of the moon have some input on our personalities, or our feelings?
Thoughts for consideration. Today is a new moon – so if you can, take time to rest – or consider a moon salutation in contrast to a traditional sun salutation.
hurry up and relax – thoughts on meditation
legs up the wall, a passive inversion - with a blanket under the hips is really relaxing.
Admittedly… I have been feeling anxious. It’s more of a stirring than anything – like something wonderful is about to happen and if I can muster up the patience to just let things unfold on life’s terms, it will all be answered unto me. But I’m human and I dig, pry, wonder, speculate (and those are the nicer verbs). I found myself needing stillness, quiet. No TV, no computer screen, phone silenced, just some really yummy and mostly wordless music and legs up the wall.
I spent two hundred hours in 2010 in yoga teacher training – the single biggest commitment to anything I’ve ever made financially and time-wise, other than my undergraduate degree. I had wonderful teachers that exposed me to multidisciplinary practices of yoga, giving me a very broad understanding and grasp of the practice and its many varieties/denominations. Our hours were divided into segments including anatomy & physiology, history of yoga, Sanskrit, meditation, asana practice (the physical part), philosophy, and so on.
The most valuable thing I got out of this whole process wasn’t my head stand – but a quieter mind. When I started the idea of five or even ten minutes of uninterrupted silence in a room filled with other people sounded like torture. Like a really bad episode of The Office. By the end of our training I craved it. Meditation and I had made our peace once I realized that it wasn’t something that fit into some uniform box – that there wasn’t a recipe or a prescription to follow and poof - you’re enlightened! I imagined meditation was something reserved for monks and swamis on the Himalayan countryside.
I’ve found mediation is much more like Liz Gilbert’s portrayal in Eat, Pray, Love. It is messy, reckless, challenging, and completely different to each person. It takes practice much like the physical part of yoga – the more you practice and the more ‘props’ you use, the more you’ll find yourself settling, and then – suddenly, it happens… stillness, blank mind – for me it’s as if all the same sensory input occurs around me, sound, light, smell – but there is not any motor output. I am a pure, judgement-free, detached observer. It could be a few seconds or half an hour, it all feels like a flash.
I found strategies to get me to this place, but of late I haven’t been as diligent in practicing them as I was last year. I knew I needed to get back to basics. I found a certain discipline of yoga that really helps ‘step me down’ to this quieter, stiller place and now it’s one of my favorite types of yoga to practice.
Yin yoga is a radically new-age discipline for the yoga world. It was pioneered in the late 20th century and has a major focus on the individual experience of anatomy. Virtually all of the poses in yin yoga are seated or on the mat, and each pose is held for 3-5 minutes on each side. It aims to target the deeper, cooler, denser connective tissue of the body known as fossa. This is a wonderful complement to any more vigorous physical practice (think Ashtanga, Bikram, spinning, marathon-training)- contrasted as yang. The biggest challenge isn’t the poses – most of them are accessible for the majority of beginning yogis – but the stillness of the mind. After a good yin yoga class I feel similarly to how I feel after a massage – better aligned, muscles loosened, and serene.
This type of yoga is a great precursor for someone new to meditation. The next thing I did was finding guided mediations so that all I had to do was listen and let an experienced professional guide me through the confines of my mind, help me develop or state intentions, and connect with the feeling of being still and limiting sensory input to just sound. Weening the senses off the overstimulation of traffic, gossip, phones vibrating, bills in the mailbox, dishes in the sink – must be done lovingly, patiently.
I’m a big Deepak Chopra fan and aspire to visit the Chopra Center someday in Carlsbad, CA. Here’s a link to several guided meditations lead by Davidji (ji after a name means ‘teacher’). Most of them are 10-15 minutes long and include some gentle centering breathing at the beginning and continue with intentions for gratitude, creativity, that sort of thing. The Chopra Center also has an iTunes channel with free meditations and sometimes I like to download them to my iPod to listen as I fall asleep or in legs up the wall.
Only after all of that started to feel natural did I attempt naked meditation – without a voice, without music. It helps me to focus on my breath when I’m working toward stillness, and using a mantra like “this is me breathing in, this is me breathing out.” I also like to connect with my heart beat and listen – see how deepening my breath starts to slow the rate at which it beats.
savasana or corpse pose - used in yoga nidra and at the end of most asana practices
If you’re fortunate enough to have a yoga studio nearby that offers yoga nidra – go. Yoga nidra translates to ‘yogi sleep’ and is a truly yummy practiced entirely in savasana. It is an extended guided meditation that lasts anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour, and starts with rotation of conciousness – where your teacher mentally takes you on a trip through your body. It continues with imagery and throughout the process I literally feel like I can sense the neurons firing through my brain – and acts like a major reboot for the mind.
These are some of my favorite meditation/stillness songs that I enjoy in legs up the wall or savasana (everyone’s favorite yoga pose) in the classes I teach. Enjoy – and remember that your peace of mind is always worth the effort.
- Bliss – Song for Olabi
- Uman – The White Spirit
- Bliss – Remember My Name
- Alexi Murdoch – Orange Sky
- Telepopmusik – Breathe
- Feist – Brandy Alexander
- MC Yogi – Shanti (Peace Out)
of butterfly gardens, Rothko, and aficianados alike
I’m coming up on two months in H-town and I’m proud to say I’m feeling pretty good about my current adventure status. I’ve made time to explore several different corners of this city. There is a concentrated downtown which is about five miles east of the apartment. There is the standard-issue skyscraper district complete with shopping, Fortune 500 company headquarters, and overpriced rental real estate. There is a light rail train that runs from University of Houston’s downtown campus out to Fannin South, so only a north-south route. The light rail is strategically located through the most busy run of Houston’s hustle and bustle including the Texas Medical Center where I spend many of my weekdays.
Aside from the main downtown area, there are pocket districts all over the inside of the 610 loop. I love this system of development – each district has its own personality, catering to aficionados of beer, wine, architecture, art – you name it, Houston has it. My only complaint is that the light rail doesn’t have any east/west expansions and the city is essentially designed for commuters and other major oil and gas consumers. I’m a big fan of public transportation so I utilize the train when appropriate.
inside the butterfly garden at the Houston Museum of Natural Science
I really dig the museum district. Houston has two, so to speak – the first is nestled between the Med Center and downtown, and borders Hermann Park. Here Houstonians can enjoy Museums of Natural Science, Art, and an extensive garden center. The Museum of Natural Science has a butterfly garden – one of the most romantic and whimsical places I’ve ever visited. It’s like being whisked away into a mildly humid subtropical paradise with fluttering friends landing on your fingertips and shoulder – whispering their secrets to only the quietest museum-goers. Hermann Park boasts miles of trail for walking, biking, and dog-philandering and has a large outdoor amphitheatre for concerts.
The other museum district is more in the Montrose area – a very colorful and diverse scene. Here, tattoo shops are neighbors with trendy coffee, wine and vintage shops. You can really feel the west coast presence walking around this area. The famous Rothko Chapel is here, set adjacent to the Menil Collection. The de Menil family is a dynasty in Houston – they made a large investment in the arts several decades ago and are the namesake for both massive standing collections and traveling exhibits of many different artistic mediums. Rothko is an especially meaningful place for me. It is open 365 days a year and touts itself as a place of tolerance. As you approach the entrance a small narthex is lined with short, cedar bookshelves are topped with books of every major religious and spiritual tradition. Visitors may pick up the Bhagavad Gita, the Book of Mormon, the Koran, the Bible, The Tao Te Ching, or any combination of texts to take into the chapel. The chapel itself is an octagonal structure with each wall panelled by a massive, original Rothko. The center of the chapel has a few pews and meditation cushions – that’s it. It’s quiet, austere, and peaceful. There’s a song I am really digging these days by David Dondero that does it justice:
The Broken Obelisk, outside Rothko Chapel
David Dondero – Rothko Chapel
my religion is in nature, art and literacy
my religion is in science, music and poetry
my religion is the mountain, my church is in the seas
my religion is to love you yet my church is entropy
my religion is in your eyes but my church ain’t organized
my faith is in the sweetness that you might realize
but my faith it could be fiction, my faith could not be smart
my religion is the weather, yeah, my church is in your heart
bustling inside of Empire Cafe
The liquor laws differ greatly here from Florida; most of these coffee shops serve cocktails, beer, and wine. Empire is across the street from a musty smelling antique store – located in a big, open-air warehouse, where patient customers might find very reasonably priced vintage home furnishings.
Absolve wine lounge - fit for hippies and royalty alike.
Louie and I walking through the Houston Arboretum
dog and cat - on patrol
a very auspicious place to get sick
Oh dear blog, I’ve neglected you so! I suppose it could have something to do with the fact that I actually have some new accountability these days.
I started school last week. I’m taking two classes right now at HCC Coleman College for Health Sciences, which is located at Texas Medical Center. I can’t quite articulate just how fortunate I am to have this kind of learning environment in my backyard (or a short three-mile drive to the other side of the loop). TMC is the single largest medical center in the world. More than six million patients a year are seen here, 75,000+ of which come from out of the country to access the world-class care facilities available. It’s a really great place to get sick.
The med center campus is bigger than most cities. It's about three miles south of downtown Houston.
I’m taking Anatomy & Physiology 2 with a lab and Pharmacology. These are pretty labor-intensive classes. I’ve noticed almost immediately that I appreciate school exponentially more than I did while at FSU. As an undergrad I was always busy planning the next thing. Where would I work/make more money/get to a campus-involvement meeting/participate in student government and so on. I worked no less than 20 hours a week while maintaining a full-time class load even through the summer semesters. When I had breaks from school I picked up more hours wherever I was working. I worked in retail, restaurants, in a shared cubicle in the Governor’s office – the full spectrum of service work. I skipped class often, crammed last-minute most of the time, and didn’t spend much time connecting with academic advisors or faculty. Many of my classes were in massive lecture halls with graduate students.
Now the stakes are different. I am going back to school out of pure, unadulterated, raw desire. I’m footing the bill personally this go-around (I was a grateful recipient of Florida’s Bright Futures academic scholarship program) and acknowledge the gravity of some of my coursework. In pharm there is little room for error. Do you want a nurse who doesn’t know the difference between heparin and insulin, or how to properly titrate a dosage of your medication? My mom tells a fable of when I was a rugrat, a very sick inpatient of a children’s hospital in Seattle where we were living. I was in dire need of a blood transfusion and somehow was cross-typed wrong. We reviewed the blood type differences at the cellular level in Anatomy on Monday and the wrong blood type is about as useful as injecting yourself with rat poison. I seized and coded. But I digress.
I’m starting to appreciate how integral and non-negotiable the role of a nurse is in a clinical setting. I had no idea how much responsibility (and in terms of my 3rd year law student boyfriend, liability) lies in the hands of the nurse. My respect for and interest in the profession grows daily.
The community college is such a different setting from my massive alma mater. Teacher :: student ratios are much more favorable, the price is much more reasonable (especially since I’m out-of-state until December). My favorite anecdote follows…
My first time attending Anatomy left me with warm fuzzies. My professor is a distinguished researcher who spent the majority of his career publishing. He’s of Indian descent and has a strong but still understandable accent. He gave the most sincere first-day-of-class diatribe, insisting on sharing his background (Ph.D. in endocrinology research), personal history (married, four kids – oldest daughter just broke the bank and stirred things up with her traditional Indian wedding with half the guests being American) and favorite hobbies (gardening). He asked each of the 23 of us to do the same. I counted students from Kazakstan, China, Vietnam, South Africa, Honduras, and India. There are several students in my classes that have children and full-time jobs. He divulged the circumstances surrounding a recent hospitalization and was elated to learn that his nurse was a former student. He beamed.
Today in that same class we were discussing the details of the heart. We spend a good amount of time in this class going through case studies, where the anatomy linkage is finally made to diagnosable conditions. We were talking about the mitral valve, a structure inside the heart that has a high propensity for prolapse in certain heart defects. He used President H.W. Bush’s wife as an example – she recently had this valve replaced with a pig’s equivalent at TMC. But he called her “Senior Bush Wife”. I love the way he periodically reverses the adjectives and nouns when he lectures.
Being a student again is simultaneously humbling and empowering. I’m embracing dichotomy lately. Cheers, to dichotomy
peace and love in the animal kingdom of furballs
shake your asana
A long-time favorite quote of mine goes something like this:
“the cure for anything is salt water; sweat, tears, and the sea.”
I’ve employed good amounts of sweat therapy since arriving to my new home. My new gym has become somewhat of a safe-haven – there’s just the right mix of familiar staff but personal anonymity. I can get to business and don’t have to keep up with the Jones – no, I can get to work.
I understood the healing properties of the ocean at an early age, being fortunate enough to grow up near the crystal clear waters and sugar sand beaches of Florida’s gulf coast. And as a libra, I’ve had my fair share of healing tears – cathartic, cleansing, and humbling. Sweat seems to be my salt of choice of late.
The Bentley of yoga mats, a Christmas gift from my handsome boyfriend.
I inquired about group fitness opportunities with this facility and much to my pleasant surprise was contacted within about two weeks by an area group fitness manager. They asked me to answer some questions about my experience teaching and why I wanted to be an employee – the standard issue screening to ensure I’m not McNutso or McBaggageHeavy. I was asked to audition this week, and was offered the opportunity on the spot. I must say that this audition process was pretty humorous and awkward – there I was on my brand new Manduka yoga mat in a massive, mirrored space, simulating how I would teach the class with no participants while he sat in the back and took notes and scored me. They sent me an offer letter via email and now I’m setting up an appointment to finish new-hire paperwork at my home gym location. At minimum, this will be a free gym membership for both Josh and I – at least $70/month gratis. ::happy dance::
In yoga, the Sanskrit word asana is used to describe poses or postures – the physical element of a yoga practice. The majority of western popularized yoga focuses only on this one of eight limbs of yoga – asana is just a slice of the enlightenment pie. If you come to one of my classes, I like to incorporate pranayama, another limb meaning breath control or breath work at the beginning of each class. Prana means “life force” in Sanskrit and the practice of these yogic breathing techniques harnesses the power of the breath as the body’s life force. Powerful stuff.
There are lots of different pranayama techniques and if you’re a Doctor Oz fan you might have seen Dr. Deepak Chopra demonstrating nadi shodana this week. Dr. Chopra left the Sanskrit out though, and touted it as a tool on an entire episode dedicated to slowing the aging process. This type of pranayama is called alternate-nostril breathing. I heard some yogi folklore in teacher training about Sri Patthabi Jois, one of the most famous western yoga teachers of the 20th century using nadi shodana after realizing he was having a heart attack on an airplane. This balanced breath got him through the flight and calmed his nervous system enough to get him to a medical facility that could treat his episode. He survived and lived to be 94, practicing yoga until his last days.
In case you didn’t know it biologically, stress literally contributes to more than 90% of all illness and disease. This video is pretty cool - it starts with Dr. Oz explaining how stress affects our DNA and then Deepak demonstrates nadi shodana. He goes on to talk about balancing foods based on energetic content.
I wanted to share my playlist of tunes for shaking your asana – whether it’s on the elliptical or in a yoga class. Cheers.
Shake Your Asana Playlist
- OutKast feat. Norah Jones - Take Off Your Cool
- Stars – This Charming Man
- The Temper Trap – Sweet Disposition
- Trevor Hall – Where’s the Love
- Jem – They
- The Black Keys – Everlasting Light
- Bob Marley – No Woman No Cry (Live at The Lyceum)
- MC Yogi – Rock On Hanuman
- David Dondero – Rothko Chapel
- The Dream – Right Side of My Brain
- Madonna – Shanti/Ashtangi (this is her rendition of the opening invocation to the Ashtanga series – an awesome and vigorous yoga practice)
- Moby – Porcelain
- Tami Chynn – Over and Over Again
- Snatam Kaur – Anand
- MC Yogi – Krishna Love
- Bliss – Song for Olabi (for meditation, savasana)
I like a city with a sense of humor
I’ve discovered some interesting nuances of big city living. I wish I could take a screen shot of my Garmin GPS when I drive around town – if highway infrastructure were art, Houston would be world-class. There are roads with seven lanes (on each side) and interchanges that more resemble spaghetti than concrete. Many of the beams that hold up these impressive roadways have huge Texas stars or outlines of the state itself, furthering my hypothesis that this state has a unique brand of nationalism… or statism.
One of my first experiences driving in this spaghetti-concrete mess included Josh sitting in the passenger seat of my hatchback saying ”ok, now just get over five lanes” as casually as if he were asking me what time the sun was setting. I can’t help but feel like I’m in a giant game of steel Frogger on these highways because I’m far from a defensive driver. But I digress.
aw, shucks.
One of my first trips included an obligatory trip to WalMart. I spotted this sign and was slightly confused… and had to have it spelled out to me – this is the local government’s passive-aggressive way of dealing with homeless folks setting up camp.
Another observation is the sometimes gratuitous amount of security officers everywhere. I was finishing some present-shopping at the Galleria a few days before Christmas and there was a dude directing traffic on each floor of the parking garage. Highland Village, which is on
Mr. Plum, in the market, with the baked brie!
Westheimer and included in the Galleria shopping/business district, has permanent traffic directors during peak hours of 7-9 am and 3-7pm. But this one takes the cake… our main grocery store insists on security via this segway/tricycle combination vehicle. I mean, we shop at HEB on Buffalo Speedway in the River Oaks area… this is not the barrio. What kind of crimes (or lawsuits) have gone down with overpriced gourmet cheese? Did someone get a little to lit on wine tasting samples? Oye.
rain on my parade.
My personal favorite is right in the backyard. This sign is posted at our apartment pool and has as much space dedicated to it as to all the rest of the pool rules combined. Clearly this will ruin my entire summer since all my bathing suits won’t pass dress code. (this is heavy, heavy sarcasm… for the record).
Cheers to lightheartedness… and a prayer petition for my safety on these crazy highways. Here’s a few photos from a trip to the hill country the weekend before Christmas.
inside the Gruene, TX General Store
This was at a winery dedicated to grapes grown only in Texas
banks of the Comal River near New Braunfels, TX
impressive maple leaf, recently fallen from its branches
a lesson in humanity on Christmas Eve.
It’s been a while since I’ve posted because the last ten days or so have been pretty consumed with heavy, important things going on around here.
About six weeks ago, we discovered that Josh’s maternal grandma had cancer that was metastatic and stage 4. We knew this was a grave diagnosis, but the family had resolved to carry on, enjoy life, and see her through every part of the journey. His grandparents have been married for 56 years. They live about thirty minutes outside of the Houston city limits in the medium-sized suburb of Richmond.
The last few weeks were full of pain and suffering for Josh’s grandma – the cancer had spread through her spine, liver, taking over the body methodically, with precision, and mortal intentions. She started with round-the-clock hospice care about a week ago in the comforts of her home, and then Sunday evening slipped into a coma. This was the point where grandpa made that phone call to the family.
Josh grew up so close to these grandparents and saw them frequently. Meme (grandma’s sweet nickname) was one of his biggest cheerleaders when he declared his intentions of going to law school at the ripe age of 14. Now he’s finishing his third year and has taken it upon himself to probate her will personally. She was the first to share classical music with him and instill in him a passion for all things high-class and gentlemanly. He attributes his chivalry and good manners to Meme’s teaching. I had the pleasure of meeting her this summer during my first trip to Texas to see Josh and meet his family, and she was a sweet soul – the voice of reason, the voice that could gently hush the Jimmy Buffett and pina colada-induced silliness with a more appropriate joke or line of conversation.
I didn’t go visit until late last night, after everyone had made their peace and said their proper goodbyes. I made sure to arrive with colorful Christmas cookies in hand, in some small hopes of bringing cheer to an otherwise somber atmosphere. I was surprised to discover quite the contrary – the full gang was joking and laughing over holiday sweets and red wine. Meme was in a home-designed hospital bed in the living room, facing the TV with all of her closest loved ones around her. Family members took turns holding her frail hands, skin wax-paper thin and brittle, telling their favorite Meme stories and ragging on each other in that way only your kin can do.
I spent a while talking with the hospice nurse that was on duty last night. She had been in nursing for 20+ years, only spending the last two in hospice. She was very deliberate – telling me how much she had wished she’d gotten into this kind of work sooner. She shared some anecdotes of other family members she had seen through their last days on earth, and talked of how lost and confused families are in that time. How hard it is to understand what the body is doing when it’s components are starting to give out. She really touched me, and reminded me that I’m switching gears into this new field of selfless service for the right reasons.
At one point, Josh’s brother brought me a photograph taken in the early 1990′s. It was of Josh, probably six years old, sitting on the kitchen counter of the very home we were inside with his grandma’s squarish red reading frames at the end of his nose, complete with a mischievous grin. On the left was Meme facing him with a full smile. This is how everyone plans to remember this woman – not the feeble shell of a body that lay on the hospital bed in the living room, with an oxygen machine chugging along her bedside.
This is my first experience with death; my family is so young that I’ve never had anyone in my family or a close friend pass away. I started to see that body as a vehicle, not the person itself. The mechanical parts have given way to their own mortality, somewhat sabotaged by a vicious, quick-acting, and unforgiving disease.
She passed this morning, quietly, and alone in her sleep. It was the first time since hospice arrived that she was completely alone – grandpa had told the nurse that he needed to run out for a quick errand. Perhaps she was waiting for a time when she wouldn’t be surrounded by those who loved her most to make her transition – maybe she knew it was best to wait because she respected dignity above all else.
The funeral home took her away later this afternoon and she will be cremated. I think the family has already gone through most of their grieving, but the gravity of the situation is still setting in – what will Christmas look like without her? What about Josh’s law school graduation in May, or when his brother graduates medical school in three years?
I chatted with my own mom about this earlier. She said to imagine this body like a big ship at port – everyone on the shore waving their frantic goodbyes as the boat drifted away into the distance. Eventually that ship is a mere speck on the horizon, and then disappears from the view of those at shore. On the other side there is a whole other shoreline where the boat is headed, and those waiting to greet the ship are frantically waving “Welcome! We’ve been waiting for you! We’re so glad you’re here!”
While it’s tought to have my first Christmas away from my own family, I’m so glad that I’m here for this family right now and that maybe in some small way I can be of service and support to them.
My Christmas wish is for us to be present to the moment. To believe in magic, to see the beauty and light in even the darkest of hours. Josh’s family has grown together more than he can remember these last few days, and argue less and have more love – no one is taking anyone else for granted. I hope if you find yourself reading this, you’ll make it a priority to tell your closest friends and family just how much you love and appreciate them for precisely who they are today and in this moment.
Merry Christmas.
