MUSE*LI:

“The real artist thinks certainly of totality, but never of perfection. He wants to be totally in it, that’s all.  When he dances, he wants to disappear into the dance.”

So true.

I actually think I’m a nutjob.

So I’ve been getting into yoga a lot lately and amongst other things I’ve been getting into Power Yoga.  Power Yoga is essentially a vigorous form of ashtanga yoga that’s gained popularity in recent years amongst the general fitness going public.  One of the founders of Power Yoga (it’s just a fancy name but he popularised it) is Bryan Kest, a yoga teacher in Santa Monica.  I think the entire reason for this mass popularity has entirely to do with the video below:

It’s the cut-off jeans, isn’t it?  Or maybe it’s that spirally, devil-may-care 80s hair?  I actually can’t watch this video for yoga because the 80s acid wash just makes me laugh too much.  Then of course, there’s that hot, yoga-toned body.  Check it out, he’s still hot at least 10 years later (and he loves his dogs!  That’s even more adorable!):

Bryan’s actually in his mid-forties now, so he looks a little older than that but not much. He still teaches yoga in his studios, and still has those adorable eyes assuring you to ‘Breeeeaathe…’  But this is besides the point.  The most attractive thing I find about this man is not his all encompassing yoga philosophy, or his gentle radiance; it’s that Boston-edged, New York ghetto, rough tough loving Yankee twang.

I’m not entirely sure why I love this broad, large-lipped, nasal, open-mouthed dentalised sound.  Maybe it’s the contradiction of the rough and toughness of the voice with the gentleness of the nature that’s so appealing.  That might explain my adoration for this man:

Steve Brady’s (played by David Eigenberg) unwavering love for Miranda was a big sticking point in the character’s attractiveness, not to mention his incredibly ripped bod.  But the package just wouldn’t have been complete without that sexy, body-melting accent (and yes, of course the vaguely 80s or at least 90s hair, glasses and shirt. But mainly his accent).

And, of course, if we’re going to talk about hot yoga bodies (so David Eigenberg probably got his body not from the tree pose but from pumping iron at the gym, but no matter), then we can’t go past yoga delight Adam Levine.  The lead singer of band Maroon 5 has been a yoga devotee for many years, and even rings his instructor from the road to check the alignment for a pose.  If the below photo is not enough of a reason to force all suitable members of the male population to start dropping into downward dog stat, then I don’t know what is:

(The photo shoot was to raise money for cancer; those hands are his Victoria’s Secret model girlfriend’s Anne Vyalitsyna.  Damn lucky girl!)

Wabi – a way of life, a spiritual path – the inward, the subjective – a philosophical construct – spatial events

Sabi – material objects, art and literature – the outward, the objective – an aesthetic ideal – temporal events

The Wabi-sabi aesthetic system:

Metaphysical basis

• Things are either devolving towards or evolving from, nothingness.

Spiritual values

• Truth comes from the observation of nature.

1. All things are impermanent.
2. All things are imperfect.
3. All things are incomplete.

• Greatness exists in the inconspicuous and overlooked details.
• Beauty can be coaxed out of ugliness.

State of mind

• Acceptance of the inevitable
• Appreciation of the cosmic order

Moral precepts

• Get rid of all that is unnecessary.
• Focus on the intrinsic and ignore material hierarchy.

Material qualities

• The suggestion of natural process.
• Irregular.
• Intimate.
• Unpretentious.
• Earthy.
• Murky
• Simple.

I’m not sure I am a devotee of all of the aesthetic qualities of wabi-sabi, but I am definitely intrigued by the concept of impermanence, imperfection and incompleteness.

I have been thinking about my life and the way I live it a lot lately.  Life has been an interesting ride for me the past few years.  I have spent many of those years procrastinating heavily while yearning desperately to make something of myself and my life.  Despite my ambition I feel like I’ve gone nowhere.  Recently, in my thinking, I’ve come to the belief that trying to do everything at once all the time is way too self-destructive and futile.  My passion and desire to achieve great things overshadows the small steps, the daily practice and the work that I need to to get there.  I have spent much of my life trying to run.  Unfortunately I haven’t dedicated much learning how to walk first.  I think I procrastinate a lot to avoid thinking about what my life really is.  Instead I think about what it could be.  Or should be.  Or both at the same time, while upside down in a pigeon pose, breathing into my behind.  I procrastinate to avoid seeing what is right in front of me.  Of seeing myself.

I would like to have more compassion.  Not just for others, but also for myself.  Throughout my life, I think that has been the greatest thing lacking in my conversations with myself.  I’m never good enough.  Never reaching for the stratosphere of my potential.  Never working hard enough, never running fast enough, never being skinny enough.  Never mind other people judging me and my skills, I am my own harsh and most damaging critic.  I have never given myself permission to love myself, ever.  It has been a hard ride.  My studies over the past few days have led me to believe that I need to be kinder to myself, that insight, love, wisdom and creativity will arise from this simple thought.  Criticism, self-harm, striving, non-trusting, non-acceptance, attachment and judgement will not aid me towards my goals.  Compassion will.

I would like to be more accepting of myself.  Sometimes I get scared about things – my future, my excess of or lack of creativity and/or productivity, my career or lack there of, all things that I am attached to – and I freak the hell out.  One of my biggest fears is reaching middle age and looking back and realising that nothing I have done in the past twenty years has given me any joy or feeling of success.  That I will have to face either becoming a dream-dead housewife or a childless career woman.  I don’t even know what my dreams are any more.  I am too scared to pick up my pen and write in case I find that I don’t want to do it any more, or my talent or whatever I have of it is gone.  Which in itself shouldn’t be a loss because I shouldn’t be attached to anything.  I’m afraid to let go.  I would like to be more solid in my goals.  To know that any path I choose will be okay.

I would like to trust myself more.  To be more discerning of my own judgement.  To love. To pray (non-religiously).  To play.  To be okay in my own skin, and to know that my own company is more than enough.  To always feel connected.  To be at ease among other people.  To be learning in every minute.  To be disciplined with my self, but gently.  To be connected to the flow of things.  To share happily and willingly.  To let others know that they’re loved and that I’m loved in return.  To be okay with myself.  To be okay.

Some children bear the foreshadows of their future age; a porcine nose, aquiline cheeks, bovine ears, an equine snout. Some, however, will never grow old – their angelic features promising of an endless tomorrow.

A woman with creases on her face like a wrinkly bread roll.

Durian – yellow nectar – custard sweet and thin – breaking through skin – bursting delight

Wordpress is makes it too damn difficult to upload photos, so go here for the rest.

A very warm, funny, random and slightly less histrionic book than Eat, Pray, Love.  Elizabeth Gilbert writes really well at times, and really self-centredly other times…Did I mention that she’s self-centred?  She’s an interesting character, with traits that I recognise in myself with pride (friendliness, ‘Greek’-ness, open-mindedness, passion), and traits that I recognise with alarm (obsessiveness, judgementalness, self-centredness – although I really really hope I am much less self-centred!!).  She’s very brave to put all of those less attractive qualities out there in her book.  Sometimes I feel as if she’s just writing commonsense, or just writing to herself, and I really wonder if I needed to pay $25 to learn things I already know.  I also honestly hope that I have more sense and am more learned when I am 37 than she seems to be.  I don’t know if I can resolutely say that I learnt anything truly wise from this book, but it was often engaging – kind of like reading a really long (and really all over the place) magazine article.  I particularly enjoyed this anecdote that her (considerably more wise) husband narrated to her about choosing someone to love:

*

‘Do you still love me?’ I asked.

‘Still,’ he confirmed.

‘How?’

Because this is the essential question, isn’t it?  I mean, once the initial madness of desire has passed and we are faced with each other as dimwitted mortal fools, how is it that any of us find the ability to love and forgive each other at all, much less enduringly?

Felipe didn’t answer for a long time.  Then he said, ‘When I used to go down to Brazil to buy gemstones, I would often buy something they call a ‘parcel.’  A parcel is this random collection of gems that the miner or the wholesaler or whoever is bullshitting you puts together.  A typical parcel would contain, I don’t know, maybe twenty or thirty aquamarines at once.  Supposedly, you get a better deal that way – buying them all in a bunch – but you have to be careful, because of course the guy is trying to rip you off.  He’s trying to unload his bad gemstones on you by packaging them together with a few really good ones.

‘So when I first started in the jewelry business,’ Felipe went on, ‘I used to get in trouble because I’d get too excited about the one or two perfect aquamarines in the parcel, and I wouldn’t pay as much attention to the junk they threw in there.  After I got burned enough times, I finally got wise and learned this: You have to ignored the perfect gemstones.  Don’t even look at thhem twice because they’re blinding.  Just put them away and have a careful look at the really bad stones.  Look at them for a really long time, and then ask yourself honestly, ‘Can I work with these?  Can I make something out of this?’ Otherwise you’ve just spent a whole lot of money on one or two gorgeous aquamarines buried inside a big heap of worthless crap..

‘It’s the same with relationships, I think.  People always fall in love with the most perfect aspects of each other’s personalities.  Who wouldn’t?  Anybody can love the most wonderful parts of another person.  But that’s not the clever trick.  The really clever trick is this: Can you accept the flaws?  Can you look at your partner’s faults honestly and say, ‘I can work around that.  I can make something out of that.’? Because the good stuff is always going to be there, and it’s always going to be pretty and sparkl, but the crap underneath can ruin you.’

pp..129-130, Committed, Elizabeth Gilbert

*

A very astute analysis of relationships, I think.  Also of career choices.  I always thought that the strength of my passion for my career came from the brilliance of its rewards.  But perhaps it’s also the fact that I’ve considered the low points very carefully and decided that I am capable of living with them too.

How do we mourn? If we mourn as a group, do we have to wait till everyone has healed before we move on? Is it possible to mourn individually, but for the collective group to heal at the same time, so that the even though the pain is not actively shared with the group there is a subconscious group consensus? What happens if people never share their grief? Do others mourn on tgeir behalf?