Ocean Views

Over the years and thanks to a wide variety of friends, a stint as a psych nurse, and a motley crew of acquaintances, I've been privy to an entire spectrum of human behavior, with my own antics subject to some serious speculation. Thankfully, being surrounded by the right people with sincere intentions and a genuine interest in my life has made for a fabulous existence. Though, I can't help but wonder about the emotionally crippled that walk amongst every day. You're probably quite familiar with the type, whether it's the chronic complainers, the miserable who loves company, or the proverbial victims that tend to sway on the far side of the spectrum. Preferably, I avoid them at all costs but sometimes, you just can't.  

Thanks to my novice SUP skills, I often find myself crossing paths with an oblivious swimmer in the middle of the ocean. Luckily, no head on  collisions have been reported however, I did find myself up close and personal with a not so happy camper yesterday. With the sun beaming and the water temp just right, one would think that life couldn't get any better, right? Unless of course, you're the miserable, righteous hag who reprimanded me for infringing upon her swimming territory. Baffled and caught off guard, I wanted to retort something snippy like, "Hey lady, it's a freaking ocean not a kiddie pool!" But instead, took the high road and acted as if I didn't just hear that. The incident got me thinking about those with emotional handicaps who operate as if the world doesn't have enough room, opportunities, and experiences for everyone. I gazed at the massive ocean then back at the hag and was reminded of how small a tainted view can make the world appear. Funny thing is, life is just like the ocean...there's always enough room for everybody. What's getting in your way? Do tell...

Do you, baby!

Despite my maniacal driving skills and a scary dose of road rage against student drivers who just have to take lessons on a Sunday morning,  I still managed to get to Bikram 10 minutes late. Flustered, I tried to look inconspicuous as I rubbernecked the jam packed class for a spot. I inadvertently got the attention of the instructor who pointed to a teeny space up front. Mortified, I jumped right in and tried to avoid the glare of my neighbors who I had now, just violated their personal space. Feeling tense with images of berating my husband for making me late, I began to lose balance and focused on the heat and stench instead. Then, a distraction! A sweet, portly elderly woman wearing polyester pants and a knit top fell while attempting a pose. I had seen her before in previous weeks and wondered how the hell she managed to endure 90 minutes of torture in polyester? But, week after week- she comes back for more and thankfully, hasn't succumbed to wearing a sports bra and daisy dukes.

The incident got me thinking about the commitments we make. After granny hit the ground, it snapped me back into focus and I finished the class. In lieu of harboring anger towards my husband and teenage drivers- I simply let it go. Instead, I gave myself credit for not copping out and felt invigorated that I had done something positive so damn early on a Sunday morning. And though granny might have taken a little tumble- I thought about her amazing resilience. She could care less about wearing breathable fabric. All she really wants is to be in a room that's 107 degrees, surrounded by people whom she could be the great, great grandmother of. But hey! Talk about commitment! It was at this time, I decided that all commitments aren’t created equal. It’s the one’s that make you look and feel good, the one’s that make you want to spread love, and the one’s that bring joy to others, which are thought to be the one’s most worth committing to. How do you...DO you? Do tell…

UP, UP, & Away...

Just recently, I learned the art of straying from self inflicted bouts of doubt, feelings of isolation and a host of other negative habits that have kept me nice and stifled for years. Feeling bloated, lethargic, and depressed at 36 is not particularly attractive nor does it hold the keys to a loving and nurturing marriage. In fact, quite the opposite. So, one day I simply came to the realization that with nothing to lose, I would do just that…the opposite. Instinctively, curling up to a bowl of cheetos, suffering from long spells of writer’s block, and spewing negative commentary at anything that looked at me funny were all warm and fuzzy comfort measures. However, in my best effort towards self improvement and for the sake of raising a child without mommy issues, I became physically active, listened more than I spoke, and started to take accountability over my decisions.

Over time… I began to see things like silver linings, unicorns, and glasses that were half full. As evolution must, this is a process that takes time. I still battle my urges to judge, load up on carbs, and deny myself the pleasure of an occasional pity party. For so long, feeling bad meant feeling normal. It’s a dark road I hope to never cross again. And you- what have you got to lose? Do tell…

That's whatSUP!

Two months ago, on a whim I decided to enter a local TV station's essay contest about why i wanted to live a healthy lifestyle. The topic was completely foreign considering how out of touch I was about anything that resembled living the picture of perfect health. And while residing in Hawaii, working out, cutting carbs, and not by choice- eating brown rice instead of white all looked good on paper, I still couldn't shake the negativity that permeated my outlook. I blamed my impotent endorphins for my lack of happiness and felt a constant need to sweat the small stuff to justify my hourly mood swings.  All of which started to get old and lacked the same luster as it did in my 20's, making this as good a time as any to seek change. My entry, written at midnight was a rambling dissertation about genetic predispositions and a desire to finally start living. Half asleep, buzzed off a glass of Merlot, and feeling confident, I clicked the submit button and hoped for the best. 

A week later i received an email that i had won the contest. The grand prize, an intense 8 week course of stand up paddle (SUP) sessions. (think of standing on a surfboard using a paddle to maneuver through the waters at Ala Moana Beach). Not only did this mean i had to spend more than my usual 5 minutes in the ocean but i needed to perfect balancing on a paddle board AND try my best not to drown. So far, this has been a transformational experience. Aside from finally developing some muscle tone, I've also strayed from the comforts of frustration and irritability, and can honestly testify that when you mix a little whim, a glass of Merlot, and a desire to live...only good things happen! What's your concoction? Do tell...