CHRONICLES OF A LUNCH BREAK (with pictures)

Around 12pm on Friday, I was getting coffee at Starbucks and the line was so long that the baristas were taking names, so as not to confuse drink orders.  When I gave her my name, she repeated it, looked confused, and scribbled something down on the plastic cup with her sharpie.  When (approximately 15 minutes later) the drink appeared on the bar, I looked at the writing above where "N/F" (non-fat), and the "latte" box was checked.  In the space for my name, the barista had written "Rufflag."

I know there are all kinds of crazy names out there, but this woman believed that my name was really "Rufflag."  This was a pretty sad moment for me.  My coworker made me feel better by telling me that I looked "nothing like a 'Rufflag'" and told me that I should start using that as my tag name.  He was extolling the virtues of using tags, since he had recently seen a clever result of graffiti in a park near his house.  There is a fountain that is particularly low to the ground so little kids can reach it, but I guess people let their dogs drink from it, too.  So the sign says "Please do not let pets drink from fountain."  But someone scratched out the "p" and the "s" in pets, so now it reads, "Please do not let E.T. drink from fountain."  I was laughing so hard, I almost dropped Rufflag's iced latte.

When I got back to my desk, I googled "tag names" to see if the name "Rufflag" would fit in with the other "taggers."  After checking out the work of KWAYK (quake), KANNZ (cans), and THA GENT, I was on to the next phase of my google search: randomly clicking on links that take you further and further away from what you were originally looking for.

I ended up looking at some great graffiti.  When driving from Maryland to DC on the Capital Beltway, you pass a particularly jankey patch of road then come up over a hill and this view suddenly appears (see picture above).  As soon as the temple comes into view, there is an overpass across the highway.  Years ago, someone wrote on the overpass in big block letters "SURRENDER DOROTHY."  Maryland police removed it, and unfortunately there are no known pictures of it, but periodically the words will appear on the same overpass again. Brilliant.

Here are a few that I thought were pretty funny:

At this point, I realized three things:
1. I was not going to become a "tagger."
2. This google search had gotten out of control.
3. It was 1pm and I needed to go back to work.

"Surrender Dorothy" blog photo from: http://www.flickr.com/photos/91499534@N00/536528070/

REGULATORS!!! Mount up.

In the 1994 song "Regulate" by Warren G (featuring Nate Dogg), the "regulators" duo tell a lyrical tale of an ill-fated robbery turned homicide occurring in Warren G's neighborhood.  When Nate Dogg discovers a group of men trying to rob (and likely kill) Warren G, he sneaks up on them and proceeds to discharge multiple rounds from his semi-automatic weapon, killing the group and saving Warren G.  As a warning at the end of the song, the duo issues a threat to "busters", or anyone who steps out of line, that they will "regulate" future incidents, presumably in the same way they took care of the busters in this song: by shooting and killing them.

Being a regulator is a tough job.  Whether it be on the streets of LA or the basements of government buildings in DC, as a regulator, you have to take measures to ensure compliance with the laws and regulations that the people you are charged with protecting expect from you in order to ensure the safety of many.

But often, this system fails.  Since the 1980's, many Republicans have advocated for deregulation of financial markets, allowing Wall Street investment banks to make riskier and riskier decisions while selling the financial fallout of those decisions to other banks and investors.  This is the transaction many of us imagine when asking a bank for a mortgage: you put on your nicest clothes, fill out some forms and get interviewed by a banker who is trying to assess whether you are likely to pay back the money they lend you.  Why is he doing this? Because if the bank gives you money and you don't pay it back, the bank loses money.  However, in reality what happens is that a banker decides to make a loan and then sells that loan to another bank, so if the loan fails, the original lender doesn't lose money since they've already passed that risk on to the loan buyer.  Then a complicated string of similar transactions occurs and by the end, it's difficult to assess who actually carries the financial risk that you won't pay your mortgage.

When the industry that has acted this way for many years leads the entire country into an enormous financial crisis, one would think that as a direct result, regulation of this industry would be increased exponentially.  Yet this is complicated by the fact that compliance with regulators often costs these companies money and is further complicated by the fact that these are the same companies that offer lucrative jobs that attract government regulators.

This is not unique to the financial industry.  Recently, the nuclear regulatory commission has come under fire, in light of the nuclear crisis in Japan, for similar reasons.  Companies (with lots of money and lobbyists in Congress) resist attempts to comply with costly government safety regulations, and government regulators, many of whom are later offered lucrative jobs with these companies, have a tough choice to make.  How do you regulate when a buster is resistant to change?  You need an arsenal that forces them to change.  Many of the fines imposed on these companies are not effective deterrents.  The other problem, one that is more complex, is that when companies are forced to make expensive safety repairs that affect their profits, the trickle down effect results in a decrease of salaries, loss of employment, hiring freezes.  In other words, the top executives retain their standard of living, but the ones affected are the average workers.

There seems to be a disturbing pattern here between government regulators and private industry that leaves a bad taste in my mouth.  Financial industry, Nuclear energy industry, Environmental Protection Agency.  The lucrative employment opportunities and the ability of large companies to use their financial power to influence politics (through litigation, lobbyists and campaign contributions), impacts the jobs of government regulators.

The culture of government regulation of private industry must be changed if we want to actually protect the financial, physical and psychological safety of individuals both now and in the future.  Lessons to be learned from the consequences of greed are all around us: Goldilocks and the 3 bears; the parable of the three sons, Willy Wonka and the chocolate factory.  Our society disdains the vice of greed, yet so many of us can rationalize its existence in our lives.  The reality, though, is that as long as it is the rich companies (and not the government) holding the stick dangling the proverbial carrot, they are the ones who regulators will succumb to.

So maybe Warren G can teach us a lesson.  What is the difference between what goes on in Warren G's world on the street and the drab buildings in DC?  Loyalty.  Say the thugs trying to rob Warren G offered Nate Dogg a bunch of money to join them and turn on Warren G, what would prevent Nate Dogg from doing that?  His relationship with Warren G. His feelings about his friend and his loyalty.  So, how can we get that to translate to government regulators?  Damned if I know.

(this post is dedicated to Jeff Landau, who introduced me to Warren G and the late Nate Dogg)

Photo provided by Mike Owsianny.  www.owsiannyphotography.com

Democracy*

I would not describe myself as a "patriot."  I don't fly an American flag or have political bumper stickers that extol the values of American democracy.  Frankly, I often cringe at those things - probably from a dislike of over-simplifying complex ideas into cute 5 letter phrases like "freedom is not a gift."

But, I was reading the New York Times today,** and there was an article about how Egyptians voted yesterday in a referendum to either accept or reject eight constitutional amendments, which are designed to lay the framework for parliamentary and presidential elections in a few months.  And in the article, the reporter interviews a man who was often turned away at the polls under Mubarak's regime and told "You already voted, go home." or "We know what is best for Egypt."  Yesterday, after he finished voting, he said "I feel like I am flying.  It is something coming from deep within my soul."

Despite my patriotic cynicism, I felt a shift within me.  And maybe even a kind of excited kinship with this man.  Ever since the stirrings of the uprising in Egypt occurred, I have had a thought growing inside me that I haven't been able to articulate until now: the promise of democracy is exciting.  It's as exciting as watching Butler defeat Pitt or watching someone place a jenga block on top of a shaky tower without crumbling.***  It's unclear what the next step will bring and it often feels like even the smallest misstep could cause the whole thing to crumble, but that's also what makes it so exciting.

I am tempted to say that it doesn't matter what the outcome of the referendum is in Egypt, it's the democratic process that counts. But that's not really true.  The outcome will directly affect the procedure for how the new government is elected.  Which is actually pretty important.  Especially when you consider how fragile this new democracy is.  So fragile, like Voldemort's name, I hesitate to even use the word for fear it will slip away (or attack me with a death curse).

But, even so, they have embarked on a journey that is both precarious and full of hope.  And very very exciting.


*SIDE NOTE:  While an American flag, an Egyptian flag, or some other kind of relevant symbol of "democracy" probably would have been a better choice than a picture of a cake with the flag of Texas on it, what can I say? I am a woman of contradictions....

**  SIDE NOTE #2:  Yes, I do realize that I have turned into one of those people who now begins sentences with phrases like "So, while I was in line at the local organic farmer's market..."  or "Before purchasing wood based incense from my shaman the other day...."  Now I have added "While reading the New York Times..." to the list.

*** SIDE NOTE #3:  Why the numerous references to "jenga" in the past couple of blog entries, you ask?  No clue.  I don't even like jenga.  It just seems like a handy analogy.

BABY STEPS

I recently saw a video of my cousin's new baby.  In the video, the baby looks at the camera, smiles, waves her hands, puts her hands in her mouth, makes gurgly noises, waves her feet, and makes more gurgly noises.  I could not get enough of this video.  When she blinked her eyes, I smiled.  Each sound was like music.  Every movement, a celebration.

I also recently captured a video of a 27 year old friend of mine when I accidentally hit "record" on my phone.  In it, she sits in a chair, moves her hand to her face, makes a sighing noise and then I don't know, because it was so boring that I deleted it.

We coo over babies.  Every movement and sound they produce is beautiful. We celebrate each accomplishment: first time they sit up, first time they stand, first word, first steps.  But as we grow up, the celebrations become less frequent and often loftier: college graduation, competing in an ironman, winning a game of jenga.  The small accomplishments don't hold our attention the way they once did.  And so we also forget to honor ourselves for our own humble achievements.

In Ashtanga class, we practice the same positions each day.  And since you cannot move beyond what you cannot do, Ashtanga is designed to slow you down so that your body can adapt.  So, after 30 years of life, I find myself returning to baby steps.  Much like crawling before walking, I must work on binding before bending or breathing deeper to sink deeper into a pose.  And like a baby, I often find myself practicing the same simple movements over and over again; allowing my body to become acustomed to moving in this new way.

Last week I finally put the palms of my hands together behind my back in parshvottanasana, after repeating this same posture for months.  Tiny accomplishment though it was, like a baby, I could not help but be overjoyed.

QUERENCIA

During a bullfight, there is an area in the ring known as the querencia.  It is a spot in the arena that the bull considers its safe haven.  Often, during the fight, a bull will try to return to this area and the matador will do all he can to prevent this from happening.  A bull who is able to return to his querencia appears to draw a renewed sense of strength from this place and often regains control of the fight.  Once a bull succeeds in finding his querencia, he is considered especially dangerous to a matador.

Bullfighting is pretty disturbing.  I know it's a super traditional practice, but like foot-binding or live mummification, I don't really get it.  So, I betray my species and root for the bull.  I want him to win.  And watching him reach his querencia is like watching Paul Walker use "NOS" to win a race or watching Neo realize he's the one.  As the bull regains his power, you can see him rediscover who he is.  Watch the massive muscles and bones work together to make him a ferocious, powerful creature again.  I want him to get there every time.

We all have matadors preventing us from reaching our querencia.  Toxic individuals in our lives that don't want us to realize how powerful we really are; don't want us to discover our immense value as individuals.  So, when you feel that your spirit is drained and your strength is used up, remember that, like Bears fans in Lambeau Field, there are always people on your side, quietly cheering for you - standing with fists clenched, willing you toward your querencia.  Whether it's your yoga mat, your desk, or your kitchen.  Get there. So that you can again remember what a powerful creature you truly are.

Photography provided by Michael Owsianny  www.owsiannyphotography.com

A FRESH START

Roque Dalton was a famous Salvadoran poet, exiled from his country for his political beliefs and socialist writing. Like many Latin American leftists of his day, Dalton spent time in Cuba, but continued to try and return to El Salvador; to his roots and to his people.

He wrote many beautiful poems, my favorite talks about how we are all connected.  The powerful ideas in this poem were the reason Dalton was both loved and hated.  His writing gave his paisanos hope for a just and peaceful El Salvador and made those in power afraid of losing it.

My writing does not aim to challenge a political system, rouse my fellow Americans into action, or inspire a revolution.  But it is writing that I hope makes you laugh or makes you think.  Writing that looks at the daily experiences that occur in life.  This blog will center around my experiences as a new yoga practitioner in a new city, but hopefully will also be about life, love, little things, landscape and bread...

the poetry of everyone.

Like You by Roque Dalton.

Like you I

love love, life, the sweet smell

of things, the sky blue

landscape of January days.

And my blood boils up

and I laugh through eyes

that have known the buds of tears.

I believe the world is beautiful

and that poetry, like bread, is for everyone.

And that my veins don't end in me

but in the unanimous blood

of those who struggle for life,

love,

little things,

landscape and bread,

the poetry of everyone.

Photography provided by Michael Owsianny www.owsiannyphotography.com

BALANCE - tying it all together

I started this blog with the goal of attempting to bring a bit of balance to my life and to do so by examining my experiences through the purusarthas - or the four aims of life: duty, wealth, pleasure and liberation. My hope was that these reflections would resonate with others and that they would find some comfort in reading them. Now, at the end of this year-long journey, as I comb through old half-finished blog posts, it seems fitting to share them with you, and to try and tie them all together.

KAMA & ARTHA - Secrets (February 2010): One day at my old job, I was on the hunt for some coffee when by chance I discovered a beautiful place across the street from my building. It was the lobby of the Palmer House, with its impossibly high ceiling, Grecian frescoes, and tall sofa-style chairs. The furniture was arranged in groups of four, creating an easy atmosphere for small groups to chat or drink. But I loved it because I could sit there and disappear. Many a lunch hour was spent huddled in front of my computer, creating blog posts or reading a good book, while watching tourists mil about the lobby. I began to refer to it as "my secret hiding place." It became my escape; the place where I did my best and deepest thinking. I told no one about it and because of that, it remained special. I think it's important to have a place like this, a hidden space where you can indulge that part of yourself that is inaccessible to others.

DHARMA - Saying yes (July 2010): When my friend Katie told me she wanted us to take a trip to Iceland, I thought she was crazy. But in the spirit of keeping my mind open, I said I would think about it. Not that I was actually going to say yes, I just figured this bought me some time to come up with good reasons to say no. Then I googled "Iceland," saw pictures, and realized that something about this place was magical. Like Harry Potter magical. So I said yes. Without over analyzing or thinking about it too much. This "yes" led Katie to pose more scary questions, such as, "let's go on an overnight hike with an Icelandic hiking group," and "let's climb a glacier," and then, "let's follow these people to their campsite." And for some reason, I kept saying yes.

Katie was right about Iceland. I've never seen a landscape that beautiful or dramatic before. And I would never have seen those wonderful things if I had not just jumped in. There was a moment while I was standing on top of a glacier, looking down on the world when I realized how liberating it is to let go of doubt and just say yes.

MOKSHA - Exits (November 2010): I hate goodbyes. Hate. them. If I could get away with it, I would just use the "french exit," and slip quietly out the back door without anyone noticing. However, I have been told that this is not "thoughtful" or "socially acceptable." So I muddle through goodbyes.

Exits have been on my mind lately as we approach the end of a year and prepare for the beginning of a new one. For as much as I abhor saying goodbye, I love the idea of starting over. I love making plans to rearrange life to look differently, love wiping the slate clean and beginning anew, determined to get it right this time. Love making lists of healthy habits that are life affirming, and vowing to leave behind the parts of myself that are not.

And so, as we approach the end of a year of blogging, I pose the question that applies as equally in yoga as it does in life, and has been the ultimate question in my quest for balance this year: What is more important: rigidity or flexibility?

In yoga, there are poses that require certain parts of your body to remain fixed and rigid, but other parts must remain soft and flexible in order to achieve the asana. It seems so much easier to distinguish between the two in yoga than in life. But really, it is no different. You know which areas in your life demand a certain level of rigidity - the places where you tend to excess; the unhealthy non-life affirming excess that tips you over and destroys any semblance of balance. But yet, too much rigidity also defeats balance, where in becoming too fixated on doing or not doing something, you insulate yourself from trying in the first place, and remain unable to move forward.

Neither is more important than the other: both rigidity and flexibility are needed to create balance. So how do you know which one you need? I think it requires belief that you will figure it out despite the not knowing. This year-long journey has not led to balance itself, but instead to the tools that allow me to work toward balance. I love being surrounded by people, but I have discovered that creating a special place where I can go to find peace is also necessary. Saying yes to new adventures sustains me and allows me to explore new areas of myself, but saying no to those things I recognize as destructive and self-defeating is equally as important.

So, thank you to those who have helped me throw my life out of balance this year and thank you to those who have helped me try and restore it. And mostly, thank you to those of you who have been following this blog. Your comments and encouragement have been the best part of this experience.

So, my wish for us all in the new year is to strive and struggle for sustainable balance, remembering always to breathe, laugh and be kind. Cheers!

(most special thanks to Alisha, Courtney, and Mia for their rigidity and flexibility and to Meghan for giving me space to breathe)