Gray hair envy.

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I really admire gray hair on humans, with special mention of  the salt-and-pepper look. I have many friends who sport this chic-ness, as I hope someday to do, too. Only my gray chic is coming from a bottle.

I just returned from my regularly scheduled hair appointment, when I have the “mousy” brown washed right out of it, replaced with a special auburn-dark brown blend … that looks most natural, I must confess. Naturally, my gray strands are covered. And each time I’m asked, “So, what are we doing today?” I mention, “I’d like to go gray.” At this point, I am convinced my hairdresser thinks I’m kidding … she never responds, either way.

My favorite response to my gray hair affinity comes from a high school friend. Her hair has already gone gray – and it’s beautiful to. When I mention this and confess, “If my gray hair would look as stunning as yours, I’d stop coloring it,” she deadpans, “I don’t believe you.” Touché.

So why don’t I go gray? Shame of boomer status? Afraid of job discrimination? Well, it has nothing to do with any of that, really –or my hair- and everything to do with my self-esteem.

I’m afraid I can’t pull it off.

And although I was Gray before I was Muniz, I still can’t shake my low opinion of my looks.

So my gray hair envy will have to wait until another day. And hair appointment.

Photo credit:  permanently scatterbrained

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Self motion.

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Some days I’m one with it; other days I’m the one

throwing obstacles into the flow.

It is the flow that motivates … the ebb and flow,

one day to the next.

Foot in front of the other.

The breath of imagination.

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Yoga high.

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April is a time of renewal for me, when I rejoice in the freedom of a recharge.

This April, I’m starting to practice yoga more consistently. After a year of taking no classes, I sign up at the local studio I’ve had my eye on all along. I hesitated before because of the expense; now, after only two classes –well, I’m on a yoga high. I am thrilled and so very grateful for the physical wellbeing, in spite of a little stiffness. Yoga practice gives my body the strength it needs to banish my back and arthritis pain; it opens up my heart and lungs to breathe … I mean, really breathe. Such a simple thing, breathing; it’s amazing how many times a day I hold my breath. Why? The added joy of my new classes is in the meditation of devoting an hour+ to practice as well as a certain sense of community, of collective consciousness.

This April, I’ve planned a plethora of pleasurable programs for my pursuit of practice (too much?) on other levels, too. For those who practice The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron has launched a online version! Check it out. My plans for gardening have stalled –we had a thunder-lightning-hail storm last night- and I’m celebrating 13 years of marriage. I am also looking forward to a writer’s retreat later in the month; yet it is yoga practice that is inspiring me to move ahead. Truly taking steps … one at a time!

THIS APRIL, WHAT WILL GET YOU MOVING FORWARD?

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Sun salutation photo: Flickr, justanotherpumpkin

Salad days.

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Oh, the innocence of youth – the salad days … and my youth is innocent indeed. Quiet and shy, I enjoy being alone atop a grassy hill near where I grow up, singing softly to no one in particular. I have no problem talking to myself out lou-$%&#– Think you’re going to learn more? No … you’re not (at least not today).

I’m talking about my current salad days –the ones where I’m eating nothing but salad! Spring is here and it’s time to get back in shape. Give the mind and body a deep cleanse, a tune-up. Freshen up that exercise regimen (doing it); give some love to those hands and feet (doing it); keep up with that writing practice (doing it); commit to a little “me” time (doing it); ask every day, “Who am I? What do I want? What is my purpose?” (doing it, doing it, doing it).

It’s the definition of self-starter, isn’t it? Willing yourself to re-charge and get back in the race. I’m a big believer in the wisdom of uncertainty, and it can capture my attention, helping me to re-energize my dreams.

Sometimes this involves a lot of salad, though. A lot.

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Photo credit: Flickr, jules:stonesoup

Lavender and more.

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This is what spring looks like in San Juan Capistrano.

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Pink.

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This is what spring looks like in Seattle.

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Good in the kitchen.

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Some say those who can, write. Those who can’t (at least right now), cook.

OK, I’m probably the only one who actually says this because it works for me.

Several years ago, after I lose my groove –a burnout, really- I end up getting it back by cooking. I pour all my intention out in front of the stove instead of a computer, until it boils over into my writing practice. Even now, if I’m stuck, I whip up something to eat –generally for someone else. That’s key, too. The entire process clears my mind, helps me to be ready to articulate in my word smith way, if you will.

It isn’t until I hear Alaska-based Bearfoot perform this song at the Grand Targee Bluegrass Festival a couple of years ago, that I get a theme song for cookin’ … at work:

Today’s the kind of day when I’m singing my theme song … “Good in the kitchen, then get ready to be…”

I’m still working on Bearfoot’s follow-up: “You ought a see me in my apron when you’re away…” (That’s right, sweetheart. Smooches.)

Thanks, Bearfoot!

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Coffee and cigarettes.

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Just finished reading author Stieg Larsson‘s Millennium series –The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played with Fire and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest– as well as watching the Swedish movies.

I don’t know much about Sweden, life there or its politics –three things that drew me into the fictional story of Lisbeth Salander. Appreciating Lisbeth as a character kept me reading.

I think actor Daniel Craig makes a fine Mikael Blomkvist for the 2011 movie re-make.

But right now, what I really want is a cup of coffee and a cigarette.

Photo Credit: Flickr, ot

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I think to myself…

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I wake this morning to hear Louis Armstrong singing softly in my head:

“…I see friends shaking hands, sayin’ ‘How do you do?’ They’re really sayin’, ‘I love you’ …”

How powerful is that?

The Sufi master Rumi writes words about the morning water and a poet. “The wine of nonexistence makes us God-drunk,” he says. “Intoxicated that way, we are purified.” It is the poet who pours this wine through poetry. “Read from your soul. Let it bring you morning water and a poet.” Surely a  poet brings my morning water to me today.

Japanese Nation of the world, this goes out to you.

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Balance.

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The ides of March.

Ancient history marks this particular ides (there are more than one in the Roman calendar) as a day of military festival. Of course, its infamy lies with Julius Caesar’s demise  – “beware the ides of March.”

In my own history, the most entertaining Ides of March is the Xena: Warrior Princess episode of the same name. I wrote and produced image and episodic promotion packages for this syndicated series for over three years. I also laughed for no less than 30 minutes every day. What a joy to work on this project (shouts go out to my Day Husband for this).

Yet I mark the ides of March as the anniversary of life-long pain, actually. On March 15, as a sophomore in high school, I sprain both ankles and knees when a dismount off a balance beam goes bad (Coach Finley makes sure I know how stupid this stunt is). At the time, I also dance in a local ballet company; just weeks afterwards, I perform en pointe, sans ace bandages. I am also a cheerleader (egads!) and continue to train. The recovery of youth …

I have balance then. Now, I do the tree pose in my yoga class with two feet on the ground. I’m not sure when I lose my balance, but I know when the pain begins. It’s odd that I can handle the effects of injury and eventually arthritis, but the loss of balance plays with my mind. How did I let it happen? When?

So today, I’m thinking about life-long battles and how to overcome them. Every day…

Battle On, Xena.

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