Monthly Archives: September 2011

200 Mile Radius

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Last winter I decided my new phase was going to be all about eating locally grown/raised groceries.  Anyone who knows me knows that dream big and deliver small when it comes to my phases. No, that isn’t a typo.  I generally want to make HUGE changes…..I talk about them and the things I am going to do….and then the reality and size of the undertaking rears it’s lovely head and I am knocked down a couple of notches.

I really don’t mind this process though… because as I am falling down… onto the hard ground of reality, I generally tear away a few nuggets of knowledge that make their way into my daily life, making it better…or at least more interesting.

How was I going to do this? It started with a blog.

200 Mile Radius

Here is the outcome:

The blog lasted about two weeks. The plan was to only purchase foods that were grown/raised within a 200 mile radius of Austin. That meant that my food sources would have to be farmer’s markets or from a delivery service that provided farmer’s market products. It would also mean that I would only be eating produce that was in-season.

 I used Farmhouse Delivery and they were pure AWESOMENESS! I started this venture in the winter. That made it hard for me because I don’t really care too much for many of the winter veggies. Honestly, there were several times when I didn’t even know what some of the produce in my bushel actually was! One of the many genius things Farmhouse does is they send you a picture of the produce in the bushel that has the name of each item. They also provide some killer recipes!

Here is a picture from one of the bushels I received:

 I had them deliver for a few months, but it wasn’t working out for me as I was working an insane number of hours at work and didn’t even have the energy to make myself a PB&J…and the thought of actually cooking wasn’t going to happen. I started giving the produce to a friend of mine so it wouldn’t go to waste. It was too much for me to take on. So I cancelled my deliveries. That was the day the blog died too.

                                     
One day I hope to return to Farmhouse Delivery. They are that good!

Since I was working 10,000 hours a week, going to the farmer’s market wasn’t happening either. So I went back to my old ways….Starbucks for breakfast, maybe grabbing some almonds or string cheese for lunch, and dinner was something ordered through a microphone and given to me in a paper bag through a window… or delivered directly to my house by some teenage boy trying to buy new rims for his Kia.

I’ve learned that I am either “all in” or “all out” when it comes to most things. Especially healthy eating and exercise.

I’m either going to see my FANTASTIC acupuncturist/nutritionist  on a regular basis and following all of her advice. (btw….Marlene is the best! Even when I come back after a long time away she is kind, helpful and totally awesome. She is also very real. She “gets” it. She rocks!)…..or the baristas at my Starbucks are creating my beverage of choice before my car even pulls up to the drive-thru speaker-box. (they are nice too…but they aren’t really into helping me get on a road to health…they sell coffee that tastes like ice cream…touche´)

I’m the same with exercise. I’m either working out with a trainer 3 times a week, or you can see the imprint of my butt on my couch and I’m considering the walk up the stairs to bed my “exercise” routine.

My newest phase is to find my place “in the middle”.

It’s harder than you think.

I was raised on casseroles, juice from concentrate… and corn was the top vegetable in our house. The only thing that was green in our kitchen was the apple-green linoleum on the floors and the Formica counter tops. During my childhood I ran around with a permanent purple grape-juice mustache.

I have come a long way from the days of “cream of mushroom soup” being the staple ingredient in my meals but it isn’t hard for me to return to those roots. My generation was the first to have Frakenberries and Fruity Pebbles….many of these sugar-laden cereals came out the year I was born.  Yeah for me! The processing of food hit an all-time high for my generation…and I have the big butt to prove it. I’m not blaming anyone for my challenges with food. The facts are that I love some “foods” that aren’t good for me and it has taken me many years to change some of my bad habits, and some of my bad habits still have a vice-like grip on me.

One of the biggest “nuggets” of information I have learned in the past few years is how delicious real food can be! I know it sounds weird…but until you have eaten the goat-cheese salad from Blue Dahlia, you haven’t lived.

I am going to work on balance in my eating. Farmer’s market foods whenever possible, talking a walk around the block instead of having to have a $60 a month gym membership. I’m going to try to start small. This isn’t usually how I roll….but I think it is what I need to do right now. No crazy stuff. Just getting back to the basics.

The 200 Mile Radius idea didn’t happen as I wanted, but here are some of the “nuggets” I learned:

  1. The seed to healthful eating has been planted in me and will hopefully grow slowly into good choices I will make for myself every day
  2.  I know that it’s worth taking the time to make it happen
  3.  I am much happier when I am eating foods that are good for me
  4. My brain works better when I’m eating healthful foods
  5. Almond butter is awesome
  6. Farm-fresh milk is sent directly from God
  7. I don’t like Cilantro or Anise…even if it comes from the farmer’s market…ick!
  8. Buddha’s Brew is the best Kombucha ever!
  9. There is something called pecan butter by Local Baby out there. Once you try it you will be willing to hurt people to get more of it. (please don’t hurt people…just order it online… it’s easier that way)
  10. The best jams and jellies come from Confituras. There is no reason to argue this point. You won’t win.
So I guess this is the reincarnation of a past phase in smaller more realistic “bites”. We shall see….
Happy eating!
e~

No front tooth required

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I’d forgotten about another blog-worthy date I have been on, until talking with my sister last night. I do have to say that I actually have some positive online-dating experiences. They just aren’t as amusing!

(I also promise to find another topic to blog about…but these little nuggets are really fun to share!)

We decided to meet at a coffee shop. Again, he didn’t fit the mold of the type of guy I am usually attracted to, but I figured I’d take a chance. He emailed me the day we were scheduled to meet to tell me he might be a bit late because he had to go to the dentist to get a temporary tooth put in since the cap on one of his teeth had come off. I suggested we postpone the date but he insisted that it wouldn’t be a problem.

He (AKA Toothy) showed up to the coffee shop and looked like he might be in some pain or still feeling the effects of the Nitrous. His mouth was a little swollen.

me: are you sure you are feeling OK? We can reschedule… 

Toothy: no, no…I’m fine (drool leaking out of the side of his mouth)

me: Ok…if you’re sure…

We walk over to the counter to order our coffee. He states to the Barista loudly, “I’m here with the prettiest girl in the room!”. The Barista looks at him strangely. I am the ONLY female in the coffee shop. We are actually the only people in the whole place, besides our male Barista.  The shop is deserted. The Barista gives me a concerned look. I try to signal through eye-contact to keep a close watch on us. He seems to pick up on my telepathic vibe that this isn’t someone I know and that I am not sure if I will make it home alive.

We order our coffee and sit down.
Toothy smiles at me.
He needs to call his dentist and ask for a refund.

 He hadn’t told me that the tooth that had to be repaired was one of his front teeth. The tooth was still bleeding a bit, and the “temporary” tooth looked like the dentist had glued a Lee Press-on Nail in his mouth. Seriously. Now… my two front teeth have bonding on them from a tragic playground accident when I was in 2nd or 3rd grade that resulted in a triangle shaped gap between my front teeth.  I know what it can be like to deal with dental work. I just think I would have waited to meet someone for the 1st time…that’s all.

As he tries to drink his coffee, he has two challenges. The heat of the coffee was painful to the temporary tooth, and the residual numbing of his mouth was causing him to drool the little bit of coffee he is able to actually get into his mouth.

He started telling me about his job, he was a camera operator. He told me about all of the things he had filmed. It was kind of interesting. He told me about his family and some of his hobbies. He talked for about 45 minutes about various things. I was only able to get a head-nod and the occasional “um hum” in. He really thought he was quite interesting.

He did ask me about my work, and as soon as I start talking I am interrupted by another story about him.  I have to say, I knew this wasn’t a “match” when we first met. I do feel like I’m generally a pretty good judge of people….but for some reason I throw that out of the window when agreeing to meet people I’ve met online….oh well.

I tried to politely end the conversation. I was worried the Lee Press-On tooth was going to fall out. It seemed to be precariously holding on.

Before he began his next story, I looked at my phone, pretended to check a text message from a friend in need and told him I needed to go.  He seemed a little shocked by my need to leave, but luckily a friend sent a real text to check in, so I had another “out” if needed. It was needed!

 He wanted to walk me to my car. I didn’t really want him to know what my vehicle looked like. I don’t know why I had this feeling, but I did…he just kind of creeped me out. I told him I had to go to the restroom and that I appreciated him buying me a cup of coffee…and that he shouldn’t wait on me.  He seemed a little upset that I wouldn’t let him walk me out, but I thought all was good.

I hid out in the restroom for about 5 minutes. When I was walking out of the restroom, the Barista saw me and signaled for me to go back in, quick! Toothy was still there. I waited in the restroom for a few more minutes when a woman walked in. She had just arrived for her shift and the male Barista had told her to come get me and let me know that the coast was clear.

It’s good to have people who have your back!

I shared the story with the two Baristas. They thought he was creepy and didn’t want something to happen to me, especially something that started at their little coffee shop. Sure, they needed the press…but not the kind of press associated with an online date gone terribly, terribly wrong.

I thanked my fairy godbaristas for their help. I walked to my car with them watching me from the window, just in-case.

When I arrived home I had an email from Toothy. He LOVED spending time with me, thought I was BEAUTIFUL and interesting (although he knew nothing about me, since he talked about himself the whole time)  and he couldn’t wait to see me again.

 Oh crap!

I emailed him back. I thanked him for the coffee and told him it was nice to meet him but that I didn’t see that it was a “match” for me. I wished him luck in his search. I was nice, polite and brief.

He email me back.

It was a long rant about all that was wrong with me and why I didn’t deserve him. I was no longer beautiful or someone he wanted to spend time with. ever.  It was an email that, had I printed it out, would have been two pages long. Two pages that would have been good evidence as to why I was murdered that night.

 Two pages of all of the things that I am not, and why HE is the one who is breaking this off. Um….we just had coffee Toothy….there was nothing to “break off”….but if it makes you feel better, and keeps you from hunting me down to kill me….then Yes…you broke up with me. I’m OK with that.

So…another one bites the dust. I guess that dust would be the only thing Toothy could bite…. with his Lee Press-on tooth. 🙂

e~

p.s. Thanks to the fairy godbaristas for having my back! I’m happy to report I am still alive!

Phasetastic….Welcome to your new home

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Hello Phastastic friends!

As you can see, we have moved. I moved my older posts to this site, but they got a little out-of-order. Sorry for that! I was in a hurry to get up and running over here at blogspot. If you were a subscriber at the old address, you will need to resubscribe.

Sorry for the trouble!

xoxo
e~

Laser-Cat Guy (or, I just went on a date with John Lennon)

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Fun for Parsnip!
Image by Mr. Ducke via Flickr

This post is quite long, but it really is all in the details….Thank you online dating.

We had met once before for dinner and he didn’t seem like a serial killer so I agreed to a second date. Sure, he was cut from the cloth of a 1988  Poison/Warrant concert promotion poster and his hair was as important to him as Brett Michaels’ hair was… before he lost it and began wearing one of those bandanas with the hair sewn into it…but he seemed like a decent guy, so why not? (you will see as you read this story, why not. I’m sure of it).

I don’t know if it was bravery or insanity, but I decided to meet him at his house.

I arrived at his place. The plan was to go to dinner and then to see a movie, so I figured our time at his house would be brief. He invited me in and his house was decorated “wannabe artist/bachelor chic”. In other words, futons abound , a large Dreamcatcher  was the main focal-point of the room and tie-dyed curtains were used to round out the whole look. He also had about 100 pieces of art work that he had created on his computer stacked around the room. Little canvases, big canvases….. He showed me all of them. ALL OF THEM. He also acted like a museum docent, filling me in on all the “details” about each piece.  The interesting, or not so interesting thing was that they all looked the same. seriously.  They were kind of like an Etch-a-Sketch meets Play-doh and then those two spent some time in the Easy-Bake Oven and the product of that was put on a canvas.

After the WAY too long “art show”, It was time to go to dinner. On the way to his truck he began to tell me how much he LOVED The Beatles, how their new box-set had come out, and how he thinks he is John Lennon reincarnated. Yep. really. I guess obsessed with the Beatles would be a better description. He said the John Lennon comment with a straight face. I chose not to question or doubt the powers of the Beatles. There are some things one just doesn’t mess with. He also told me he was now in a band, and that he had “one of the best singing voices he has ever heard”. Being John Lennon and all, this would make sense. But  Yes. He really said those words, out loud. (hence the quotes)
I guess he thought I would be impressed by his singing skills so he sang Beatles songs all the way to the restaurant. The WHOLE way. At the top of his lungs. The only time he wasn’t singing was when he was filling my head with Beatles trivia. I know the ride to dinner was only about 10 minutes, but it felt like 3 1/2 days.

I decided to cut him some slack and figured he was just nervous, or insane…I’m still not sure which one it was. My bet is on the latter.

Dinner was an hour-long informative lecture about all that was wrong with his family,  how he enjoys being the black sheep and that his perfect brother was Satan’s spawn. Oh…and how he was such a great catch and that he can’t figure out why he hasn’t met someone.

I had two glasses of wine.

The first one I drank down like a tequila shot.

The second one I nursed for a while, as not to be in a state of mind that I wouldn’t be able to run for my life in the event that  became necessary. It seemed good to have options.

I wanted a third glass but he looked at me strangely when I ordered the second one.  I wasn’t sure if his look was one of concern that I drink too much… or if he was sizing me up to drug me, put a long black wig on my head, rename me Yoko, blame me for the breakup of the Beatles, to then dismember me and put my body parts in his freezer, all while singing “Love Me Do”. The jury is still out on that one.

He was nice enough to pay for our dinner; although he asked me to leave the tip since I had two glasses of wine and he “only had four Dr. Peppers”. Since he drank a gallon of liquid at dinner, he wasn’t able to finish his meal so he took home some leftovers.  He didn’t want them to go bad in the car while we were at the movies and we had time to stop by his house and put them in the fridge since the movie started later than we thought. So a few Beatles songs later we were back at his place.

He put the leftovers away and then he started talking about his cat. I hadn’t seen his cat the 1st time I was in his house. I figured he had a cat since the sheets covering the futons were covered in cat hair (as were my black pants), there was the not-so-faint smell of a litter-box that needed cleaning  and he had a 5 foot tall “cat tree” that blended in flawlessly with his decor.

He started to tell me the origin of the cat’s name. I don’t remember much of the story, but it involved something from Dungeons and Dragons, a lost high school love and something about his Mom.  I think I saw tears welling up in his eyes when he was talking about it.

To distract me from his emotional “moment” he pulled out his laser pointer to get the cat’s attention. He really wanted me to meet Gollum (or whatever the cat’s name was). From out of nowhere this huge feline leapt for the red laser light. It was cute….at first.  I kid you not, he had that poor cat follow the laser pointer around his living room for 15 minutes. He cooed and talked to the cat in a baby voice while the cat was tortured with his inability to catch the stupid red light.

I suggested that we go ahead and leave for the movie…before the cat decided to turn his frustration into blood-thirsty anger.  I didn’t want to be late, or receive inoperable facial lacerations from this poor cat. Plus,  it was opening night for the movie and I wanted to get a good seat.

He said he needed to take care of something before we left. I figured that he had to go to the bathroom since he drank so much soda at dinner. Nope. I was wrong on that one. I started hearing gurgling noises coming from the back room; and then there was a strong odor and smoke billowing out of the room…followed by really bad coughing. Yep…you guessed it. (and if you didn’t guess it…then I’m not going to explain it to you…sorry). He “politely” peeked around the corner to see if I wanted any.
me: “Uh…no, thanks….and do you REALLY need to do that right now?”

Between hits, he went on for a while about how disappointed his Dad was that his oldest son (Laser-Cat Guy…or LCG for short)  was almost 40, still single and smokes all day long. LCG has a brother, you know Satan’s spawn…who is a pediatric oncologist…. I think  I’m with Dad on this one.

I was surprised that at that time, I didn’t bail. I guess I really wanted to see the movie. (btw…I can’t remember what movie it was).

“Laser-Cat-Guy” and I got into my car.  I wasn’t going to let him drive. We headed to the movies. Oh, he had a Beatles CD in his jacket pocket to play in my car, just my luck! I got to hear him sing all the way to the theater. Bailing might have been a good idea.

During the movie I could tell he thought I was really into him… by the way he was trying to put his arm around me and/or hold my hand.  I’m not sure where he got the idea since I dramatically put down the armrest between us, crossed my arms (feigning that it was really cold in the theater)… and was basically sitting in the lap of the lovely gentleman sitting on the other side of me…his date didn’t seem to mind.
I made it through the movie unscathed, although I felt like I had to be at DEFCON 5 to  deflect any attempts at any type of contact with”Laser-Cat-Guy”. The nice gentleman sitting on the other side of me totally had my back…I could tell.

Driving home was one of those fantastically uncomfortable moments. I realized I had left my scarf and gloves in his place. Damn. That means I have to go into his house again. Damn.

Once we got in the driveway, I told him that I needed my things.

LCG: That’s cool. I was hoping you would want to come in. (crazy glint in his eyes)
me: I just need to get my things. I’m tired (fake yawn and stretch…(for better believability))
LCG: (small chuckle) sure…you just want to “get you things” (yes, he used air quotes)
me: I am not sure what you are implying with the use of air quotes, but if you were implying that I want to get my scarf and gloves then it was the appropriate, yet unnecessary use of air quotes…in my opinion.
LCG: Cool. Come on in. ( eye glint has become creepy and crazy)
me: (standing at the door, on the porch, outside in the cold) Um…can you just grab them for me, I left the car running…
LCG: Cool. (goes in and returns with my stuff) It was nice to meet you.
me: Uh huh… Thanks….I gotta go…
Out of the blue, he leans in and tries to kiss me. Seriously. He was about 6’2, and I was standing one step below him.(i’m about 5’7)…As he “came in for the kill” I turned my head quickly to avoid any contact and accidentally (or not so accidentally) forehead butted him in the nose.
me: oops. sorry…I gotta go
LCG: (holding his nose with his hands and quietly cursing under his breath) Cool. Can I call you sometime?
me: Sure! (it was a safe answer…he didn’t have my number)

When I returned home there was an email from him through the online dating website. LCG recounted our date and stated that he really wanted to see me again. He also hoped that it didn’t scare me away that he was the reincarnation of John Lennon. (again there was no indication that this was a joke).

I replied that the John Lennon thing was cool, but it wasn’t going to work out since I am allergic to cats…and laser pointers.

Shockingly, he never emailed again.
~e

Tales of a third grade…. identity crisis

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In 3rd  grade I changed my name.

It wasn’t a legal name change. It was actually done quite secretly….I didn’t tell anyone.
One day I started writing “Shelley McPherson” on my class-work and homework for school. The genius thing about it was that Shelley was IN my class. Yes, she was one of my classmates. Blonde, cute, smart, popular, freckled and very, very nice. She brought cool stuff to show-and-tell, she was great at sports, great at math, and she was always happy. She was just an all-around great person.

I figured it would be great to “be” her …and all it would take to make that happen was a name-change.
Now, I wasn’t unhappy with who I was, it was just that she was good at things I wasn’t. I was good at a lot of things, but Shelley was really good at a couple of things I wasn’t even remotely skilled in: sports and math.

I hated P.E. and the competitive games they had us play, plus I preferred to wear skirts and dresses to school. Learning the hard way that these two items don’t mix…the day my skirt got caught in the wheel of the stupid little scooters we had to ride; causing my team to lose and me to be forever shamed in the art of scooter racing.  This is just one of many examples of my lack of prowess in sporting activities.
I won’t give you any math examples. I just sucked at math.

So, I figured the powers I would need to become good at sports and math were found in the name “Shelley McPherson”.

I started the transition to my new name slowly. Just writing it on the heading of my papers once or twice the first week. I didn’t see any changes in my athletic ability, so I began writing it on everything I turned in.

Our teacher was Ms. Altenhoff. She had also been my teacher in 1st grade, so she was aware that I was blessed with an active imagination. One day as she was walking us to P.E. she asked me to come back to the classroom with her. I didn’t want to miss P.E., because I wanted to see if the name change powers had taken effect.

I decided it must be important since Ms. Altenhoff wanted to talk to me in private, so I went back to the classroom with her.  I didn’t have ANY idea why she needed to talk to me. Really. I didn’t.
I sat down at one of the desks. She walked over to her desk, grabbed a manila folder and sat down to join me.

Ms. A: How are things going for you Ellen?
me: Great Ms. Altenhoff!
Ms. A.: Are you sure? Is there anything going on….at school or at home that is bothering you?
me: No, (looking at her puzzled)  things are good……. Oh, I have a new sister!
Ms. A.:  I know! Remember, you brought pictures of her for show-and-tell the other day
(a long pause, as Ms. Altenhoff decides how to proceed)
Ms. A: Ellen, I have noticed that you haven’t turned in any work in the last week or so. (waiting for me to respond)
me: (looking puzzled) Ms. A, I have turned in all of my assignments.
Ms. A: (opening the folder) Ellen, I seem to have no assignments for you, but for some reason Shelley has two papers for each assignment.
me:  Oh, yeah! I forgot to tell you that I changed my name to “Shelley McPherson”! That is why. I’m sorry if it confused you.
Ms. A: (looking incredibly confused, and also trying not to laugh) Oh..wow….um….but Ellen, you have such a pretty name. Why would you change your name to “Shelley McPherson”?
me: She is really good at sports and math, and I want to be good at them too.
Ms. A: (Still trying to stifle her laughter) Ellen, you are good at so many things, and not everyone is good at everything they try.  Ellen, do you enjoy sports?
me: No, not really.
Ms. A: What do you enjoy?
me: singing, dancing, playing with my friends.
Ms. A: Then those are the things that make you “Ellen”. Do you want to give all of those away to be “Shelley”?
me:  OH NO! I don’t Ms. A! I don’t! (in a slight panic over what I might have done to myself by changing my name. Did I give up the things I really enjoy? Can I get those “powers” back? Can this be reversed? )
(Ms. Altenhoff  sensing my panic)
Ms. A:  (in the most sweet, calm “teacher voice”) Ellen, honey,  find the assignments you completed in the folder and write your name on those that are yours. That is all that you need to do, and all will be back to normal.

Without wasting a second of my time, I made the corrections to the papers. I handed them to Ms. Althenhoff, hoping that I could regain all that I was as “Ellen”.

me: (with panic in my voice) Ms. A….is it all back to normal? really? I mean, I didn’t want to get rid of the things I like to do…how will I know if it is all O.K???
Ms. A: Ellen, your class still has 15 minutes in P.E. Why don’t you go on over to the gym, you will feel better after you play with your friends.

I head to the gym. In the 15 minutes I was there, I helped my team lose the volleyball game because I tripped and fell. My skirt flew up exposing my underwear.  When I got back to class, Ms. Altenhoff returned my math assignment. I had made a 52.

All was right in the world.

I have to thank Ms. Altenhoff for being so awesome. I know some teachers who would have made me feel like a complete weirdo for doing something like this. She handled it with kid-gloves, and I appreciate her for it.

_____________________________________________________

This post was inspired by the book I am currently reading, The Happiness Project. (this is what also inspired me to begin my blog).  Part of the project is to realize there are some things you will never really enjoy doing, and that it’s OK.  It also talks about that there are some things you can enjoy doing, but might not be so good at… but if they bring you joy, why not do them?

Sure, I’d love to be as hysterical, creative and all-around awesome as  The Bloggess…. or to be able to be a yoga goddess like my friend Jamie …or to have the fashionista/decorator skills of my cousin,  Sheridan French, or to be as brave as  FabuLeslie and join a running group and find her “inner runner”….but I’m not these people and I don’t have their same talents..and that’s just fine with me.
What I DO have is the ability to enjoy their talents, share them with others and to nurture the talents that I DO have. That is what we all should do.

Enjoy who you are, celebrate others for what they are…..
and don’t change your name.

~e

10 books on Meditation = possible head injury

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I have 10 books on meditation and 3 boxes of meditation cards. I have never successfully meditated in my life. As you can see from my large meditation collection I have a desire to meditate but have been unable to do so successfully…even once.

I fall asleep EVERY TIME.

Now, I know, from all of my reading about meditation that it is a “practice”. It takes people years to become “good” at meditation, I get that…but I am guessing one has to stay awake to “still the mind”.
My first attempt at meditation almost ended with a head injury.

I have a very comfortable chair that I thought would be perfect to try my first meditation.
Ridiculously comfortable to sit in with good back support. Perfect. My goal is to be the best meditator out there. Have the Dalai Lama call ME to ask how I became such a master at meditation, a girl can dream big, right? Even with this lofty goal I figured it would behoove me to start small. Like the books recommended, just practice sitting and breathing. How hard can that be?

Sitting cross-legged in the chair, I closed my eyes. I begin focusing on my breath (as the books had instructed). in…….out…………in…………..

I am startled by my head caressing the metal bookcase that sits to the left of the chair. I place my hand out to catch myself, but instead, choose to catch myself with my face. As I assess the situation from the floor, I ask myself a few questions:

1. Do I feel calm? not exactly
2. Do I feel enlightened? not so much
3. Do I feel like I have a head injury? quite possibly

As I lift my broken spirit and bumped head off of the floor, I begin to ponder why it is that I fell asleep. Maybe I am actually GREAT at meditation…so great that I was able to quickly go into such a state of meditation that my mind actually closed off to all things outside of myself and I wasn’t sleeping but was actually in another realm.

Or maybe I fell asleep, fell out of a chair and hit my head.

I think the answer is “B”.

Namaste,
e~