IDK, and that's okay

It has been two months since my 28th birthday and for some reason I have been in panic mode. I worry there are things I can't continue doing as I get older, such as ever watching MTV again. Suddenly inching closer to 30 it feels as though I must cleanse a part of my past and also know exactly what I want for my future. Oddly enough I do know a lot about what I want many areas of my life. I've learned what brings me inspiration (going for a long run) and what things create toxicity in my life (watching online TV), and how to balance them.

The same thing keeps coming up about my future that I'm unsure of - romantic love. With my little sister married, my parents celebrating their 35th wedding anniversary suddenly I'm questioning my own path of romance. Since I was young I've believed there were so many other ways to invest my time other than spending them with boys (a mentality my father certainly encouraged). I say many times that I could have found a cure for cancer in the time I have spent thinking about or spending with men. (Please ignore the also obvious reason for not finding a cure that I am not a scientist.)

Some days I want the whole kit and caboodle (what ever that means) with a husband, 2.5 kids, a dog and a house in the burbs. Other days I want a significant partnership where I can still spend time with other men in whatever way I please. And then on other days I want to continue making out with whomever I want and keeping my options wide open. This is what I struggle with a lot being a woman today...the tug of tradition with the pull of modernity. I want to make my own money and at the same time the idea of a man to provide for me also sounds quite appealing. Kids sound fun, but do I really want to keep the same guy around until they are grown up? And better yet...Why do I even think I have to answer this question right now? As one of my favorite quotes reminds me...live into the questions knowing the answers may or may not be just around the corner.

"Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign languague. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them and the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually without even noticing it, live your way into the answer." Rainier Maria Rilke

IDK, and that's okay.

Today I'm grateful for Suppenkuche, work, and MOAD.

Soft IntenSati

I'm constantly  looking for new additions to my workouts to keep them fresh. This morning I tried IntenSati, clever word play with "intensity" in case you didn't catch that, and loved it! I met the instructor, Eileen McCarthy, at the balcony overlooking the ocean just north of the Sutro Baths. A heavenly place to workout and even saw a porpoise playing in the waves while I was working up a sweat. The SatiLife Web site describes IntenSati as:

"IntenSati is a revolutionary workout fusing high-energy aerobics, martial arts, dance, yoga, and strength conditioning. Combining spoken affirmations with simple choreography, intenSati provides a heart-pumping, exhilarating workout that builds physical, mental, and spiritual muscle.

Courage, confidence, willpower, enthusiasm, self-respect, and a strong, healthy body are all results of this powerful practice. The goal of intenSati is to enable a seamless and total integration of body and mind, allowing you to be and experience all you deeply want... right NOW!"

 

I would describe it as calisthenics with affirmations and pure bliss. It is downright impossible not to smile during this workout. Looking out at the ocean, screaming things such as, "So above is below and now I know," and jumping around to sitar songs all contributed to this bliss. For several moments I became entirely aware of the fact that after only living in California for six months I have become a softy. In the famous (or famous at least in some circles) Baz Luhrmann song says, "Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft." Too late, and this softy has one hard body to show for it.

 

Today I'm grateful for my boss, my coworkers, and Bhangra.

The Hills are no longer alive

This week was the final episode of "The Hills" and it pangs me this many years later to even acknowledge I  watch it. Not as a very dedicated viewer, but I did sit down intentionally in front of my computer on occassion to catch a glimpse of Brody Jenner. I'm mostly relieved that now there is nothing to keep me watching MTV and can move onto more adult TV stations such as PBS. I enjoyed watching the show to see attractive people go through the same experiences I have been through with life phases. Living in their fantasy world was certainly a great escape after a bad date or curling up on Hayley's couch to watch it together. The opening song of Natasha Bedingfield fools you into thinking you will be inspired by this show. After every episode I felt completely opposite. I didn't feel good, or happy, or relieved. Just void as if I really spent 20 minutes watching a blank screen. The ending of this show marks a milestone for me with the ending of a mindless TV show I no longer have to feel "inspired" to watch.

Today I'm grateful for my job, cell phones, and Internet.

Inspiration station

What does it mean to be inspired? Or in the flow? Or on fire? Or in the zone? Inspiration comes from the Latin root – "in spirit." Um, no surprises there. I have begun to really think about my life and being inspired. Or being inspired by life. Which begs the question...What inspires me? When I look around I begin to see that everything has the potential to create inspiration. Last week in another attempt to put off getting some reading done for school  I sat under a tree and stared at its branches for an hour, possibly two. I stopped keeping track of time. In my former life as a workaholic mad woman I could hardly imagine taking this sort of time for nothing, but living "in spirit" time doesn’t seem to exist. Inspiration tends to come to me instead during "times" of solitude.

I realized I forgot what life was with inspiration, and it's an entirely new world. Inspiration comes unexpectedly and has many forms. It's in anything and everything - a butterfly, a kind word, a great song, a phone call, and even a person. Inspiring others is one of the greatest gifts we can give. After all, we can't inspire others without getting a little inspiration on ourselves. All in all it contains this planet, this life, and this love (I'm only partially attempting to sound like a Bob Marley song here). A life without inspiration becomes dull. The trees have no life, the birds sing and no one notices.

I'm committed to a life of inspiration. One of waking up in the morning knowing I'm here to do something important. Of following where ever spirit/universe/source/(insert your word here) guides me to make a difference. Turns out inspiration for me is simply living "in spirit." The only true desire we have to be inspired by.

Today I'm grateful for song lyrics, free meals, and Teccino.

You know you're in SF when...

Celebrating my six-month anniversary with Man Franpyscho today. Boy, oh boy has our relationship evolved since the early days. I've met incredible people and roughed the rough weather, and even have a new nickname for it. Despite our ups and downs, I'm still very much in love and  have decided to compile a list of my favorite things about SF. In no particular order they are:

• the way the sidewalks glitter in downtown and near H&M
• when the cable car operators make songs out of ringing the bells
• the recycled, natural toilet paper is always sold out at Walgreens
• don't have to see Fox news on the treadmill at the gym
• have conversations in French with strangers on the street corner
• spend an entire Muni ride discussing the best energy healing crystals
• Tai chi after turbo kick at 24 hour fitness
• seeing gay couples hold hands without any hesistancy
• seeing more Toms shoes than my own closet
• found more than $5 in change on the sidewalk

Today I'm grateful for all the things mentioned above.

Say it isn't so - Power Money Fame and Sex

Our culture is so driven by these four words and yet I don't have words to describe this book, which is incredibly useless when attempting to write a blog about it. I finished this 300-page user's guide and am still unsure if it's a joke or not. It outlines in detail how to assert your success in each of these categories. I learned several useful pieces of knowledge:

-I crave indirect power through writing or possibly marrying someone powerful.
-I want money mostly for self-gratification, not for power or showing off.
-Everything should have a sense of sprezzatura - a grace, easy and carelessness without seeming calculation or effort. Exertion detracts from achievements.
-Hint that you need very little sleep. Well-known successful people claim to only need 3-4 hours a night.
-If you happen to be standing near someone more well-known than you when a photo is taken, point at his/her chest. It makes you appear energetic and it will be impossible to crop you out.
-A recent widower of a happy marriage makes for the best option of a "jackpot" for money.
-Trophy wives can only be so if it's a third or fourth marriage.

The author Gretchen Rubin acknowledges this book doesn't bring happiness (as is with her latest book the Happiness Project) - just power, money, fame, sex. These passions bring with them their own set of sadness, and yet in our culture we still seem to want them all (including me to some extent), even if they are...just words.

Today I'm grateful for library books, quiet evenings, and library renewals.

Wham bam thank you slam

There's no doubt about it (and I admit I'm biased) - SF is on the cusp of a lot of trends. Some I don't know what to make of them, or even if it is a trend at all. Enter the poetry slam, they have been around for a long time, but SF takes it to a whole other level. I see them going on almost every day of the week from outdoor BART gatherings to specific topic poetry at upscale bars and even at my school. One that rocks my socks (I'm all about the rhymes today) would be the 16th and Mission gatherings on Thursday nights.

You really never now what you're going to get. Last night's was ridiculous - I was unsure whether I should laugh or cry. One thing is always certain...people cheer wildly whenever someone drops an f-bomb or finishes. Picture this: around 100 people gathered on the sidewalk at the BART station exit, some of them homeless, some of them hipsters, some of them possible Hispanic gang members...all of them drinking. There were moments of tension when a homeless, inebriated man looking for his daughter tried to take over the circle saying he would, "beat her ass when he found her." A friendly game of roshambo decides the next performer and a flamboyantly gay yogi enters the circle talking about how "heart" was an anagram for "earth" and proceeded to say who knows what from there. (I think he was even more of a hippie than I am as I have never noticed that before.)

This gathering represents what I enjoy and despise about Man Franpsycho. It's a city of tension and pain blended with beauty and love. 16th and Mission puts everything gross about the city right in my face: poverty, litter, stereotypes, alcohol abuse, drugs, and sometimes slight violence. Then a few minutes later the space fills with artistic expression, compassion, support, diversity, admiration, and yes sometimes even respect. The people who come to this group need to be heard and seen, everyone there gets to experience that whether or not they have a poem to perform. While I'm honored to provide that space for them, I could do without sitting on the gum-covered, filthy sidewalk.;)

Today I'm grateful for 4th of July, trips to L.A., and fresh produce.