Sunday, December 30, 2007
Friday, December 28, 2007
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
damn Gina.
One thing after a bloody nother.
*Grannie just declined life support.
*BFF Alison got in a car accident, then a flat in her rental en route to the in laws, thus spent Christmas alone at a Motel 8 w/Pringles & a 6'er.
*Me cuz Aaron got T-boned by some hillybilly who blew a red light going 50mph in Alabama.
*I am sticking in WA for the funeral, aaaaaannnnnnnnd:
*I am pregnant.
-Not serious about the last one, but heh, some humor has to happen.
One thing after a bloody nother.
*Grannie just declined life support.
*BFF Alison got in a car accident, then a flat in her rental en route to the in laws, thus spent Christmas alone at a Motel 8 w/Pringles & a 6'er.
*Me cuz Aaron got T-boned by some hillybilly who blew a red light going 50mph in Alabama.
*I am sticking in WA for the funeral, aaaaaannnnnnnnd:
*I am pregnant.
-Not serious about the last one, but heh, some humor has to happen.
Another solo mission up to the mountain- I know these roads well, straight would take me to Chinook where our cabin is, a left at the Y, heads to White Pass. Within sight lies that NW fog, wind and white cheer, I am happy to be here. It’s been snowing since dawn and yesterdays slopes were sloshy; heavy and wet! I got soaked to the bones- but smiled ear to ear. Steep runs of weighty moguls, grabbing edges as I descended, poor vision due to rainy snow. Ze goggles needed “windshield wipers”; my equilibrium let me know I was fine.
Today provides views of Rainier, fresh powder & beautiful weather! Snow dangles from the trees, and I pause before cutting through- visibility clears, as far as my mind will let it. Pouncing turns, dancing in tree shadows, amidst life I am flying.
Meditating on breath as I ride the lift back up. Feeling what sensory has to offer- an aliveness. Without going into detail, here nor there, I continue to ride until I've had my fill, its Christmas Eve…time to be with family! Steady-ready, munching my sandwich, I drive to see them.
Today provides views of Rainier, fresh powder & beautiful weather! Snow dangles from the trees, and I pause before cutting through- visibility clears, as far as my mind will let it. Pouncing turns, dancing in tree shadows, amidst life I am flying.
Meditating on breath as I ride the lift back up. Feeling what sensory has to offer- an aliveness. Without going into detail, here nor there, I continue to ride until I've had my fill, its Christmas Eve…time to be with family! Steady-ready, munching my sandwich, I drive to see them.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
What a Shift!
My grannie/nana rules the roost & as a current member of ICU, her kins a'offerin' support! Convinced that it's not safe to sleep at night, she won't let herself while alone. Due to the possibility of pneumonia setting in, the docs can't give her anything too sedating. Thus one of us stays overnight with her and this evening was Angela's and my turn.
According to Angela, it was the equivalent of 7 yoga classes...
What a merry time we made it be, as Nana groaned and we munched M & M's, Good-n-Plenty's, and Persimmons. Massage, drawing, Cards of Destiny and moaning back, fulfilled our 10 hour shift...We know how to spend a Friday night. :)
Now it's 6:30am and we're comforting our tired jollies with tea, "sausage" & eggs.
Hereafter we'll lay horizontal, nighty-night.
Grannie's all right.
My grannie/nana rules the roost & as a current member of ICU, her kins a'offerin' support! Convinced that it's not safe to sleep at night, she won't let herself while alone. Due to the possibility of pneumonia setting in, the docs can't give her anything too sedating. Thus one of us stays overnight with her and this evening was Angela's and my turn.
According to Angela, it was the equivalent of 7 yoga classes...
What a merry time we made it be, as Nana groaned and we munched M & M's, Good-n-Plenty's, and Persimmons. Massage, drawing, Cards of Destiny and moaning back, fulfilled our 10 hour shift...We know how to spend a Friday night. :)
Now it's 6:30am and we're comforting our tired jollies with tea, "sausage" & eggs.
Hereafter we'll lay horizontal, nighty-night.
Grannie's all right.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Oct/Nov ‘08
My Yoga mentor Ana Forrest, asked me to assist Berlin’s teacher training. I already knew I would, but hadn’t concurred what stipend I’d get. Now, I know and am happier than ever for this opportunity to study with such a strong and determined woman. I’ll be able to afford a house for the 6 weeks- So who wants to visit and offer “support”, even smiles?
Then I am off to Budapest, where a dear Yogi friend’s family is from, to teach with my sis. My Hungarian friends have been so generous lately and I am utmost appreciative to give back!
Madrid and Paris too, as Angela and I have amigos/amis là-bas aussi. Forrest & Acro Yoga workshops will fulfill my autumn of ’08 and THEN I’ll put my ass back into grad school. Yum Yum educación!
My Yoga mentor Ana Forrest, asked me to assist Berlin’s teacher training. I already knew I would, but hadn’t concurred what stipend I’d get. Now, I know and am happier than ever for this opportunity to study with such a strong and determined woman. I’ll be able to afford a house for the 6 weeks- So who wants to visit and offer “support”, even smiles?
Then I am off to Budapest, where a dear Yogi friend’s family is from, to teach with my sis. My Hungarian friends have been so generous lately and I am utmost appreciative to give back!
Madrid and Paris too, as Angela and I have amigos/amis là-bas aussi. Forrest & Acro Yoga workshops will fulfill my autumn of ’08 and THEN I’ll put my ass back into grad school. Yum Yum educación!
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Good morning, I sing the river song as my Nana is in the hospital. It’s almost the first day of winter, and our waterways have slowed, as much in life edges towards hibernation. I ask that we receive the necessary nourishment in order to maintain health and consciousness.
I send my mysterious manner out to the world, with bright open Willingness. I sense the light even when I cannot see, I hear the music rustling the trees, and smell the air’s crisp transitioning breeze. Taste our root vegetables and live on.
My nana, Evelyn Louise Strait was born to Anna Mae Vaughn in Missouri, January of 1926. The family farmed until Anna Mae’s sister died in a hurricane, and they moved to Idaho, continuing to farm. My Nana tells the story (as well as preaches its benefit) of having to walk everywhere. School, grocer, work, and how that lifestyle monuments her strategy for survival. Her two legs are capable and strong, as a native woman of this land. Able to till, sow and reap, creating birth even while she sleeps. If you met Nana, you would be amazed, she has survived cancer three times, back/surgeries galore, and outlived two husbands. She gives gratitude to Walking.
And so, I generate energy with my legs, in the name of my twin soul, Evelyn Louise Strait/DiMario/VanHorn.
A Navajo Prayer
With Beauty beside me I walk.
With Beauty behind me I walk.
With Beauty before me I walk.
With Beauty inside me I walk.
It is finished in Beauty.
I send my mysterious manner out to the world, with bright open Willingness. I sense the light even when I cannot see, I hear the music rustling the trees, and smell the air’s crisp transitioning breeze. Taste our root vegetables and live on.
My nana, Evelyn Louise Strait was born to Anna Mae Vaughn in Missouri, January of 1926. The family farmed until Anna Mae’s sister died in a hurricane, and they moved to Idaho, continuing to farm. My Nana tells the story (as well as preaches its benefit) of having to walk everywhere. School, grocer, work, and how that lifestyle monuments her strategy for survival. Her two legs are capable and strong, as a native woman of this land. Able to till, sow and reap, creating birth even while she sleeps. If you met Nana, you would be amazed, she has survived cancer three times, back/surgeries galore, and outlived two husbands. She gives gratitude to Walking.
And so, I generate energy with my legs, in the name of my twin soul, Evelyn Louise Strait/DiMario/VanHorn.
A Navajo Prayer
With Beauty beside me I walk.
With Beauty behind me I walk.
With Beauty before me I walk.
With Beauty inside me I walk.
It is finished in Beauty.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Yoga=yoke=union=marriage
Genuine partnership empowers us to stay true to our own selves, while at the same time acknowledging that we are more powerful together than we are alone. The process of giving and receiving support from the divine, and being joyfully immersed in the flow of life.
May the fire of honest relationship to ourselves, each other, and the divine, burn away all that is not needed so that we may live in greater harmony and peace.
Om Shanti!
Work honestly
Meditate everyday,
Meet people without fear,
And play.
-Baba Hari Dass
Genuine partnership empowers us to stay true to our own selves, while at the same time acknowledging that we are more powerful together than we are alone. The process of giving and receiving support from the divine, and being joyfully immersed in the flow of life.
May the fire of honest relationship to ourselves, each other, and the divine, burn away all that is not needed so that we may live in greater harmony and peace.
Om Shanti!
Work honestly
Meditate everyday,
Meet people without fear,
And play.
-Baba Hari Dass
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
*"Not the 1st time", Tuolumne 2007
Ears buzz with awareness, perspiration seeps from every pore, hands are moist, needing chalk. I’ve lost consciousness to certain surroundings- (partner, gear, weight) yet gain bursts of energy when I sense birds, wind, and my own breath.
I am focused, attuned to carrying myself from this place to the unexpected next. Feeling pains only flesh deep, I need to be lighter in essence, or else the chafing turns to cuts, cuts to open wounds and so on, so forth.
Strength comes from my core, psoas constricted, assisting abdominal stability, inner thighs gaining recognition from the superior outer region, this center is the powerhouse of cultivating energy. My legs feel at ease in comparison to my fingers, hands, forearms- curled in a constricted motion, aware that each grip is as important as the next. The veins feel shortened and stressed, opening’s no easier than closing and I am lucky to make a fist and jam. Aware that my mind mustn’t get boggled or lose the fuel of breath, that would cause-, well never mind.
My weight is distributed 60-40 hindering the left side of my body. Aware of this chronic distribution I feel for my right foot more, yet try not to overexert due to awareness. It’s easy to trigger points, spasm energy, for no reason, my mind curious about a muscle and if it ‘works’, thus firing off. I use my left foot to jam the crack, sensing stability, my foot bones squeezed, the tissue bruised, and toenails ache. I stand upward with momentum, leaving other points of contact momentarily void, and full of trust, lunge towards that next hold. Vision directs my hand, even though my next reach is out of sight. My belly clenches, it feels loaded of shit that suddenly wants to explode out, and I remember to exhale, freeing the pent up energy to suit my direction. I feel high, elated, and yet unaware of my place en route, besides that which is currently in bodily contact. Deep into the feeling of flow; inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, thinking less and moving; pushing, pulling, rhythmically dancing one limb after another on this rock.
*"My Religion", Yosemite 2006
I wonder sometimes why climbers embrace climbing so ecstatically, with a passion that feels spiritual, even religious. For years, I never questioned this deep love. I simply realized that I had been looking for something for a long time and had somehow found it before I even knew it was missing. Now, when I consider the mainstream Western culture that produced me, I see there is something seriously missing for a lot of people. An altered experience of reality is fundamental to a spiritual worldview. Perhaps that is what climbers’ glimpse- sometimes in the mountains, sometimes when reaching deep within to push past physical limits. Many of us have never felt it before, and we will give anything to get closer to it in the only way we know how.
I often hear people call climbing a selfish, egocentric pursuit. I consider this idea a lot. On the surface, as a sport or activity, this may be true. But for most soul climbers, climbing has never been merely about athletics. Climbing has shown me how to look beyond myself. It has taught me how to be a part of a community, rather than in my own narrow making. I learn how to ask and accept the help from others. I have learned that my powerful emotions can be my greatest strength, as well as my greatest weakness. Physically and intellectually, climbing thrusts me into the larger world, beyond my own culture and comfort zone and teaches me about instinct, self trust and communication. Above all, climbing has shown me the existence of forces beyond the seen world. It has taught me to ponder the meaning of reality. It is an utmost humbling experience.
*"Balance", New Zealand 2004
Climbing is really great, we all love climbing. But what’s interesting to me is what happens in my head or in my life b/c of it. Ultimately, I think climbing is a vehicle for exploration of the self, of the world.
When I first started climbing, all that mattered to me was the passion; everything else seemed superficial or impure, sullied by material concerns. I see now that there are many ways to enter the non material realm. Climbing just happens to be the path I use. I have also learned that spirituality doesn’t simply mean rejecting the physical world. Rather, it demands balance and harmony on the material level. As time goes by, I have learned to embrace the analytical and pragmatic aspects of my personality. I realize that these are strengths, not character flaws. Being anal-retentive is actually a good quality for a climber. Big climbing projects have become an important outlet for my self-expression, demanding equal parts emotion and intellectualism. I love the cycle of hard work and scrupulous planning, capped by all-out passionate effort. The balancing act confuses me though. On a hard climb, if I don’t give everything I have, I can’t succeed. Yet, if I want it too much, I crack under pressure and cant allow myself to surrender to an effortless state.
*"Annoyance", July 2003
My partner leads a climb, falls premature of the run out anchor and wants down. I, sucking from my adrenals, offer to finish. Feeling friction beneath my feet, I float to the point of new territory, until I hear questioning from below and lose focus. I start panting and fall, 20 some feet back into the cliff, snapping my tibia. I get lowered and listen as my two partners contemplate who will now finish the climb (for gear retrieval). I begin to cry and yet hold back. However not being fully committed to embracing any one state of mind is what lead me to this pain, and yet I sit here, only partially recognizing what’s trying to come out. “Strong people don’t quit, I mustn’t let the pain bring me down”. What is down, and why is succumbing to the gravitational pull, something I affiliate with as bad? Some think it’s precarious to harness such intense focus for the pure nature of gravitational play. My body trembles, turning cold and rigid and the two men continue talking. I urge them to finish up, I need to go to the hospital. We’re in Rocklands, South Africa, the nearest hospital is a 5-mile hike out, followed by a days drive; we’ll get there tomorrow.
I fly back to Washington to be with family and despite the doctor’s orders, sit in on Yoga. I am frazzled, like a wire about to catch fire, and without an outlet. I finally cry, pissed off, frustrated sadness. The cast gets replaced a few times from sweaty saturation and my doctor advises me that movement could result in damage. I ask for an air cast, enabling me to float, not even swim, but feel that gravity defying space in water. To no avail, I feel corpsed in this plaster, sitting in Yoga, and feeling my breath because it is the only motion I can pleasurably embrace.
Ears buzz with awareness, perspiration seeps from every pore, hands are moist, needing chalk. I’ve lost consciousness to certain surroundings- (partner, gear, weight) yet gain bursts of energy when I sense birds, wind, and my own breath.
I am focused, attuned to carrying myself from this place to the unexpected next. Feeling pains only flesh deep, I need to be lighter in essence, or else the chafing turns to cuts, cuts to open wounds and so on, so forth.
Strength comes from my core, psoas constricted, assisting abdominal stability, inner thighs gaining recognition from the superior outer region, this center is the powerhouse of cultivating energy. My legs feel at ease in comparison to my fingers, hands, forearms- curled in a constricted motion, aware that each grip is as important as the next. The veins feel shortened and stressed, opening’s no easier than closing and I am lucky to make a fist and jam. Aware that my mind mustn’t get boggled or lose the fuel of breath, that would cause-, well never mind.
My weight is distributed 60-40 hindering the left side of my body. Aware of this chronic distribution I feel for my right foot more, yet try not to overexert due to awareness. It’s easy to trigger points, spasm energy, for no reason, my mind curious about a muscle and if it ‘works’, thus firing off. I use my left foot to jam the crack, sensing stability, my foot bones squeezed, the tissue bruised, and toenails ache. I stand upward with momentum, leaving other points of contact momentarily void, and full of trust, lunge towards that next hold. Vision directs my hand, even though my next reach is out of sight. My belly clenches, it feels loaded of shit that suddenly wants to explode out, and I remember to exhale, freeing the pent up energy to suit my direction. I feel high, elated, and yet unaware of my place en route, besides that which is currently in bodily contact. Deep into the feeling of flow; inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, thinking less and moving; pushing, pulling, rhythmically dancing one limb after another on this rock.
*"My Religion", Yosemite 2006
I wonder sometimes why climbers embrace climbing so ecstatically, with a passion that feels spiritual, even religious. For years, I never questioned this deep love. I simply realized that I had been looking for something for a long time and had somehow found it before I even knew it was missing. Now, when I consider the mainstream Western culture that produced me, I see there is something seriously missing for a lot of people. An altered experience of reality is fundamental to a spiritual worldview. Perhaps that is what climbers’ glimpse- sometimes in the mountains, sometimes when reaching deep within to push past physical limits. Many of us have never felt it before, and we will give anything to get closer to it in the only way we know how.
I often hear people call climbing a selfish, egocentric pursuit. I consider this idea a lot. On the surface, as a sport or activity, this may be true. But for most soul climbers, climbing has never been merely about athletics. Climbing has shown me how to look beyond myself. It has taught me how to be a part of a community, rather than in my own narrow making. I learn how to ask and accept the help from others. I have learned that my powerful emotions can be my greatest strength, as well as my greatest weakness. Physically and intellectually, climbing thrusts me into the larger world, beyond my own culture and comfort zone and teaches me about instinct, self trust and communication. Above all, climbing has shown me the existence of forces beyond the seen world. It has taught me to ponder the meaning of reality. It is an utmost humbling experience.
*"Balance", New Zealand 2004
Climbing is really great, we all love climbing. But what’s interesting to me is what happens in my head or in my life b/c of it. Ultimately, I think climbing is a vehicle for exploration of the self, of the world.
When I first started climbing, all that mattered to me was the passion; everything else seemed superficial or impure, sullied by material concerns. I see now that there are many ways to enter the non material realm. Climbing just happens to be the path I use. I have also learned that spirituality doesn’t simply mean rejecting the physical world. Rather, it demands balance and harmony on the material level. As time goes by, I have learned to embrace the analytical and pragmatic aspects of my personality. I realize that these are strengths, not character flaws. Being anal-retentive is actually a good quality for a climber. Big climbing projects have become an important outlet for my self-expression, demanding equal parts emotion and intellectualism. I love the cycle of hard work and scrupulous planning, capped by all-out passionate effort. The balancing act confuses me though. On a hard climb, if I don’t give everything I have, I can’t succeed. Yet, if I want it too much, I crack under pressure and cant allow myself to surrender to an effortless state.
*"Annoyance", July 2003
My partner leads a climb, falls premature of the run out anchor and wants down. I, sucking from my adrenals, offer to finish. Feeling friction beneath my feet, I float to the point of new territory, until I hear questioning from below and lose focus. I start panting and fall, 20 some feet back into the cliff, snapping my tibia. I get lowered and listen as my two partners contemplate who will now finish the climb (for gear retrieval). I begin to cry and yet hold back. However not being fully committed to embracing any one state of mind is what lead me to this pain, and yet I sit here, only partially recognizing what’s trying to come out. “Strong people don’t quit, I mustn’t let the pain bring me down”. What is down, and why is succumbing to the gravitational pull, something I affiliate with as bad? Some think it’s precarious to harness such intense focus for the pure nature of gravitational play. My body trembles, turning cold and rigid and the two men continue talking. I urge them to finish up, I need to go to the hospital. We’re in Rocklands, South Africa, the nearest hospital is a 5-mile hike out, followed by a days drive; we’ll get there tomorrow.
I fly back to Washington to be with family and despite the doctor’s orders, sit in on Yoga. I am frazzled, like a wire about to catch fire, and without an outlet. I finally cry, pissed off, frustrated sadness. The cast gets replaced a few times from sweaty saturation and my doctor advises me that movement could result in damage. I ask for an air cast, enabling me to float, not even swim, but feel that gravity defying space in water. To no avail, I feel corpsed in this plaster, sitting in Yoga, and feeling my breath because it is the only motion I can pleasurably embrace.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Who wants to marry the artist? Who does the artist want to marry? Knowing one can't curb another's adventurous spirit. I've been through two great relationships, which means there's been two breakups. I've related each loss with some aspect of other inspirational beings, however realize that it's only through knowing those, and how they too must understand this, that I become more comfortable with my feelings. (Hence inspired to walk away from limiting demeanor.) I don’t want my commitment of attaining dreams to be void of a partner. I live in good ol American freedom: choice of love, psyche, and movement. I love growth & commitment, my spirit requires such. But I’ve loved men who wouldn’t support it. They want me to change, move less, dream smaller…and for a while I tried- What a shitty feeling that was, to disengage from my ability to pursue utmost desire.
My friends are strong. My family supports me. I cannot commit to sedentary ways. I am loyal, willful and capable to be the best that I know, and this can be a lonely state. I want to inspire people to be great, do greater, and live as the greatest being they can imagine. I want to be recognized as a leader, although the disadvantage is having fewer companions who share similar psyches.
This is my mad reasoning. I live presently, with goals and ambition. I seek structure in my systems, as they assist my rhetoric. I communicate through example and have been misunderstood as egodystonic. I am saddened, yet grateful, b/c I know life is a choice, and my mind, body and spirit choose to be com/passionately strong.
Stretching is not easy, nor going any extreme distance. Pressing boundaries is a way of life, an endless pursuit. This is what maddens some. The constant humming of ones own drive. The insult taken from others who say “can’t you just stop?” I live with this; as men think they could love me- and the select few I've loved back, later resent my tactics. I am only 27- ought I really slow down? Does age have anything to do with the pursuit of living?
Breath inspires, expires and pauses in between. It is a choice in how to breathe, although not all acknowledge such, and blame, excuse, and abuse this utmost force. I honor the quality of breath, water, internal fire and organic matter. I respect it so, that I wish to grow as a conscious, healthy, and invoking being.
“You’re hard-core.” “You spend too much time doing that!” I’ve heard men say they love me for my abilities, and then later, want to restrain them. Is this what the mad hatter must live with? Is this why professional artists, athletes, scholars, pursuers of discipline are single? Especially women? The glamorous package comes with the cost of acceptance. Co-creating drive, commitment and beliefs are what unify two people. I do not wish to change anyone. This is what defines unconditional love.
My friends are strong. My family supports me. I cannot commit to sedentary ways. I am loyal, willful and capable to be the best that I know, and this can be a lonely state. I want to inspire people to be great, do greater, and live as the greatest being they can imagine. I want to be recognized as a leader, although the disadvantage is having fewer companions who share similar psyches.
This is my mad reasoning. I live presently, with goals and ambition. I seek structure in my systems, as they assist my rhetoric. I communicate through example and have been misunderstood as egodystonic. I am saddened, yet grateful, b/c I know life is a choice, and my mind, body and spirit choose to be com/passionately strong.
Stretching is not easy, nor going any extreme distance. Pressing boundaries is a way of life, an endless pursuit. This is what maddens some. The constant humming of ones own drive. The insult taken from others who say “can’t you just stop?” I live with this; as men think they could love me- and the select few I've loved back, later resent my tactics. I am only 27- ought I really slow down? Does age have anything to do with the pursuit of living?
Breath inspires, expires and pauses in between. It is a choice in how to breathe, although not all acknowledge such, and blame, excuse, and abuse this utmost force. I honor the quality of breath, water, internal fire and organic matter. I respect it so, that I wish to grow as a conscious, healthy, and invoking being.
“You’re hard-core.” “You spend too much time doing that!” I’ve heard men say they love me for my abilities, and then later, want to restrain them. Is this what the mad hatter must live with? Is this why professional artists, athletes, scholars, pursuers of discipline are single? Especially women? The glamorous package comes with the cost of acceptance. Co-creating drive, commitment and beliefs are what unify two people. I do not wish to change anyone. This is what defines unconditional love.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Apparently I've been on this blog shit since 2003, but never used it. I originally opened such as I was coming home from South Africa and leaving to New Zealand. I remember thinking that it would keep me from having to individually email ppl- Really though, I didn't keep up with either, as I have a tendency to discredit the advancement of technology.
Alas, I am back. And I vow to keep this shit up. With my Jillish behavioral debut, I let you in on a secret...I am only back b/c once again I am coming from one journey (France) and embarking on another (Costa Rica).
Yoga, Bike, Surf, Climb...yep, yep. Then it's back to grad school-
Okay, I am going skiing too.
Alas, I am back. And I vow to keep this shit up. With my Jillish behavioral debut, I let you in on a secret...I am only back b/c once again I am coming from one journey (France) and embarking on another (Costa Rica).
Yoga, Bike, Surf, Climb...yep, yep. Then it's back to grad school-
Okay, I am going skiing too.
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