I used to tell my kids that Wayne Dyer and Eckhart Tolle were my best friends. I did spend every day with them via DVD lectures. I came to know their faces and rely on their wise words to get me through the days. And then time got away from me, the babies needed more attention, the holidays were upon me and I lost track of my two old friends. I'm happy to report that I have found my way back into the warm embrace of wisdom that Mr. Dyer shares in his many books (I got a few for Christmas).
But this is about my new best friend. Along with several enticing books under the tree this year, there was also a Wii for the family. (Oh the dreaded video games.) While shopping for gifts for the babies, I saw a Wii Fit on display at our local big box toy store, and thought, hmmm...that's cheaper than a treadmill (we had been thinking of buying one for months). So I discussed it with R and we agreed that we could all get something out of the Wii system. So we waited for Black Friday and picked one up for about fifty dollars off, but could not find the Wii Fit balance board. Sold out everywhere! Luckily R picked one up off of E-bay, which cost a bit more, but we probably came out about even with our discount on the Wii.
We all enjoyed several days of Wii bowling, tennis and baseball, after which all (even the teenager)our arms were sore, as was my waist and butt. Maybe there was something to this. I'd heard the occasional news blurbs about using the Wii Fit in retirement homes and community centers to get the elderly up and active, and possibly healthier. Exciting possibilities for the post baby fat I was lugging around.
So, about a week after Christmas I decided it was time to check out the Wii Fit. My fatness wasn't going away eating fudge and cookies. I have only missed one day since. I do 35 minutes cardio and some strength and yoga training. I play with the balance games, but I have mostly given up tennis, baseball and bowling due to time constraints. All in all I spend about 45 minutes to an hour doing my "exercises." My two year old thinks it's cool and reminds everyone every time they turn on the TV to "essize" (she's finally talking, which was a big concern for us...we even had her in speech therapy for a few months).
The best part is the amusement factor. Every time I step on the balance board, the little feminine voice cries out "Ohhhh..." as if in protest of my horrendous weight. And creating your own personalized Mii, with hair color, eye color, height and body type...hilarious. My two teenage daughters and I broke up in laughter many times as we experimented with mustaches and bald heads on our otherwise girlish characters.
The two girls both ended up with enormous sunglasses on their Miis, and I recognize them as they jog past on my morning run. I get to play with my girls and they aren't even there. What's better, they never talk to me, never tell me how much they hate me and how I ruined their lives.
The only conversation I really get is with the "trainers." I started off with a male trainer because I thought that would be fun to see a sculpted young man giving me daily instruction. I got bored with him, he wasn't that cute, and moved on to the young woman with the perfect body. Yippee. She has a lot to say, but I have found her repetitive and redundant with her "you seem a little shaky" and "hold your elbow steady." Blah blah blah. I'm trying lady, I really am. I haven't told her to shut up yet, but I've been tempted. I do find myself talking to my own Mii, which the system gives its little round body to, based on my body mass index. She's a tubby little thing and I often urge her on with "run little fat girl." I used to tell her how smart she was in tennis when she hit herself in the head with the racket or missed an easy shot.
These are the people I spend my mornings with. Along with my two beautiful babies of course. I wait until baby boy is tired and then put him in his high chair. I pull him up close to me so he can watch, and he usually falls asleep as I'm halfway through my routine. Little girl runs amok, climbing on the furniture, trying to wake up her brother, screaming at cats, pulling my bookmarks out of my books, etc. Lucky for me most of the exercises are timed, so I can choose three minutes of hula hooping, or five minutes of step aerobics, which works out perfectly to give me the opportunity to be full time mom and disentangle the kids as I work out.
Yes, the Wii Fit is my new best friend, sad to say. I could use some adult conversation, but I really am getting a workout. I'm sweaty and out of breath every day when I get done. The best part...I'm actually losing weight. Not enough and not apparently on the Wii's time scale, (it reminds me that I have so many days, minutes and seconds to reach my goal) but I am losing actual pounds and inches. I wonder when that will correlate to a slim and sleek little Mii in Wii world instead of round little tubby girl?
Monday, February 2, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
One who taught me to be alone
While the weather here has been unbelievably warm, I have to say I sort of anticipate the cold weather of Maine. Maybe. More likely I anticipate the adventure. My life used to be so full of new experiences and people, and now I have the inside of this old house and my children to keep me company. Haven't had many enlightening conversations with my two year old lately.
Been thinking a lot today about a young man I once knew several years ago. I'll call him CC for kicks. He was a source of inspiration and irritation at a point in my life when many doors were opening and some were closing. We had an interesting relationship as coworkers in a mundane world of pizza delivery. I have to admit now that those were some of the best days of my life. I was coming out of a relationship with an African circus performer (yes indeed) who I thought was my future, but that's another story. I was angry as hell and hurt as hell and hating men in general, which is a position I find myself coming back to again and again. CC was an easy target for my angst, but it turned into something more. He was so young and so American, so spiritual and yet so scared of intimate relationships. Or so I thought. He had a dream to wander off into the wilderness and live a life of solitude. He often quoted Thoreau. He was on his way to New Mexico to build his house and live a simple life, and when I heard that, I think I fell in love. I'd been dreaming of New Mexico for years and building an Earthship and living sustainably. This young man was on his way to fulfilling one of my dreams. In the beginning of our time together he once said I could come with him. Hmmm.... that changed rapidly after I scared him to death with my neediness and confusion.
CC and I had a spiritual connection that was phenomenal, but at the time I was much more aware and open to such connections. I could "feel" his presence coming before he ever got there. He could finish my sentences and seemed to be living in a corner of my head. We had great and meaningful conversations. Mostly he told me to stop acting the fool and get real. I was running around, partying with other coworkers, trying to finish my college degree and trying to stay out of love. Ha! I did a lot of things in those days that were questionable at least morally, and I often felt lost, like I couldn't find my way back to my spiritual path if someone took me by the hand and led me. CC did that, or he tried.
Looking back I realized I failed every test he gave me, if that's what they were. I was hurt by his disconnection and longed for a real relationship, so I filled my world up with beautiful young men. It wasn't hard. They were everywhere. People I worked with, people I went to school with. And I felt if CC wasn't willing and able to be in my life, then I would fill the void with others. Perhaps he was a part of that filling as well. Who knows.
He used to accuse me of being afraid to be alone with myself. That was true. I had to be surrounded by people. I was afraid of my own thoughts. So, to prove him wrong, or to grow a bit, I signed up for an archaeology class for the summer--field school in the southeast corner of Colorado, the desert really. I think that was what tipped CC into my world really. I spent a week at a time in a tent, digging during the day and came back to work in the city on weekends, which I grew to hate. I found that my time in the wilderness was a much needed reprieve from my stupidity. Not that I didn't find playmates in field school, because I did, but mostly I had time for introspection. I sat in my tent at night and wrote in my journal and learned to be alone with myself. I even took my paints and easel to my tent but never really managed to create much of anything. But it was good time, my time. And what started off as an excuse to get away from my boys in the city turned into one of the most rewarding experiences I have ever had. I hated coming back to the city. I came to feel like my tent was home and enjoyed the heat and solitude.
But I did come back, and CC and I hooked up for two amazing weekends before he ran away. He left for New Mexico at the end of that summer just as I ended my field school. He left me with questions and yearnings I can't even describe. He ran away to pursue his own Thoreau dreams and left me in a state of sadness that took me several years to overcome.
For many years his words have echoed in my head. When R and I finally moved to Taos and I was driving for a pizza place there, I used to drive past latilla fences and think nostalgically of CC. How might it have been if I had been there with him instead of with R? And when R and I bought the old adobe barn on the old commune, I thought of CC and how he might approve or disapprove of our choices. The sad thing was that I was stuck with this unfinished relationship in my head and R was never ever going to be CC as much as he reminded me of him on occasion. I kept my thoughts to myself and I never went to see CC even though I knew where he was down in the south central part of New Mexico. I was still so afraid of his imminent rejection anyway. He wanted to be alone, so I thought I should leave him alone. And I have. But now and then he shows up in my head and makes me smile. I miss him, his words and his valuable insights. I was blessed to have him in my life for the briefest of moments and I have to thank him for that.
Now, as I research Maine and read the story of the Nearings, who often quote Thoreau, CC keeps creeping back into my thoughts. I suppose we had similar goals in life and a similar outlook. I guess it's natural to wonder about him as I think of going off on my own Thoreau experiment. Of course I will still have R and the babies and a cranky teenager, which will change everything in terms of simplicity, but I have to give it a go. Life has gotten so boring here, so predictable. Once CC said "Too many people know me here. I have to move." I feel like that a lot. Even though I try to get my art out and make a name for myself (well, not lately) and I try to get my writings published here and there. I guess I don't want to be completely invisible, but I would like to have some privacy from my neighbors, from my family. And I would like to walk in the woods on unspoiled land, raise my own vegetables, and chickens for eggs, give my children a safe place to grow up and possibly have the opportunity for my relationship with R to turn into something good and meaningful and dare I say loving again?
I miss the adventure of trying something new. Life's a wastin' so I better get on with it. How will I have anything to write about if I don't go out there and live?
Been thinking a lot today about a young man I once knew several years ago. I'll call him CC for kicks. He was a source of inspiration and irritation at a point in my life when many doors were opening and some were closing. We had an interesting relationship as coworkers in a mundane world of pizza delivery. I have to admit now that those were some of the best days of my life. I was coming out of a relationship with an African circus performer (yes indeed) who I thought was my future, but that's another story. I was angry as hell and hurt as hell and hating men in general, which is a position I find myself coming back to again and again. CC was an easy target for my angst, but it turned into something more. He was so young and so American, so spiritual and yet so scared of intimate relationships. Or so I thought. He had a dream to wander off into the wilderness and live a life of solitude. He often quoted Thoreau. He was on his way to New Mexico to build his house and live a simple life, and when I heard that, I think I fell in love. I'd been dreaming of New Mexico for years and building an Earthship and living sustainably. This young man was on his way to fulfilling one of my dreams. In the beginning of our time together he once said I could come with him. Hmmm.... that changed rapidly after I scared him to death with my neediness and confusion.
CC and I had a spiritual connection that was phenomenal, but at the time I was much more aware and open to such connections. I could "feel" his presence coming before he ever got there. He could finish my sentences and seemed to be living in a corner of my head. We had great and meaningful conversations. Mostly he told me to stop acting the fool and get real. I was running around, partying with other coworkers, trying to finish my college degree and trying to stay out of love. Ha! I did a lot of things in those days that were questionable at least morally, and I often felt lost, like I couldn't find my way back to my spiritual path if someone took me by the hand and led me. CC did that, or he tried.
Looking back I realized I failed every test he gave me, if that's what they were. I was hurt by his disconnection and longed for a real relationship, so I filled my world up with beautiful young men. It wasn't hard. They were everywhere. People I worked with, people I went to school with. And I felt if CC wasn't willing and able to be in my life, then I would fill the void with others. Perhaps he was a part of that filling as well. Who knows.
He used to accuse me of being afraid to be alone with myself. That was true. I had to be surrounded by people. I was afraid of my own thoughts. So, to prove him wrong, or to grow a bit, I signed up for an archaeology class for the summer--field school in the southeast corner of Colorado, the desert really. I think that was what tipped CC into my world really. I spent a week at a time in a tent, digging during the day and came back to work in the city on weekends, which I grew to hate. I found that my time in the wilderness was a much needed reprieve from my stupidity. Not that I didn't find playmates in field school, because I did, but mostly I had time for introspection. I sat in my tent at night and wrote in my journal and learned to be alone with myself. I even took my paints and easel to my tent but never really managed to create much of anything. But it was good time, my time. And what started off as an excuse to get away from my boys in the city turned into one of the most rewarding experiences I have ever had. I hated coming back to the city. I came to feel like my tent was home and enjoyed the heat and solitude.
But I did come back, and CC and I hooked up for two amazing weekends before he ran away. He left for New Mexico at the end of that summer just as I ended my field school. He left me with questions and yearnings I can't even describe. He ran away to pursue his own Thoreau dreams and left me in a state of sadness that took me several years to overcome.
For many years his words have echoed in my head. When R and I finally moved to Taos and I was driving for a pizza place there, I used to drive past latilla fences and think nostalgically of CC. How might it have been if I had been there with him instead of with R? And when R and I bought the old adobe barn on the old commune, I thought of CC and how he might approve or disapprove of our choices. The sad thing was that I was stuck with this unfinished relationship in my head and R was never ever going to be CC as much as he reminded me of him on occasion. I kept my thoughts to myself and I never went to see CC even though I knew where he was down in the south central part of New Mexico. I was still so afraid of his imminent rejection anyway. He wanted to be alone, so I thought I should leave him alone. And I have. But now and then he shows up in my head and makes me smile. I miss him, his words and his valuable insights. I was blessed to have him in my life for the briefest of moments and I have to thank him for that.
Now, as I research Maine and read the story of the Nearings, who often quote Thoreau, CC keeps creeping back into my thoughts. I suppose we had similar goals in life and a similar outlook. I guess it's natural to wonder about him as I think of going off on my own Thoreau experiment. Of course I will still have R and the babies and a cranky teenager, which will change everything in terms of simplicity, but I have to give it a go. Life has gotten so boring here, so predictable. Once CC said "Too many people know me here. I have to move." I feel like that a lot. Even though I try to get my art out and make a name for myself (well, not lately) and I try to get my writings published here and there. I guess I don't want to be completely invisible, but I would like to have some privacy from my neighbors, from my family. And I would like to walk in the woods on unspoiled land, raise my own vegetables, and chickens for eggs, give my children a safe place to grow up and possibly have the opportunity for my relationship with R to turn into something good and meaningful and dare I say loving again?
I miss the adventure of trying something new. Life's a wastin' so I better get on with it. How will I have anything to write about if I don't go out there and live?
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Musings on Maine and farmhouses
Babies, babies, babies everywhere, getting into everything. One walking, one crawling, both screaming when you try to move them away from their preferred items of interest (cords, ipods, cat tails). This is the hardest job I've ever had, really. And now, it's almost lunch time and then on to naps. Yipee!
Still thinking of Maine. Found a wonderful old farmhouse out in Charleston. Thought about it, dreamed about it, moved in and redecorated it in my mind. And then... snooping will always get me into trouble...found a comment online about a minimum security correction facility just up the road. What??? So, I thought about it some more. Can't stand the thought of worrying about my kids wandering through open fields to encounter who? And really, it probably would never be a problem, but what if it was and I knew way back when and chose to move there anyway?
So, back to the drawing board. Found an old "converted" schoolhouse some distance away from the farmhouse. Dirt cheap, but not nearly big enough. R of course thinks we can finish it and build a greenhouse....blah blah blah. I'm still waiting for my studio here in Colorado and the basement room is two and a half years going, but still not done. It is a gamble to move into a smaller house and wait for my man to get around to anything. And of course I could do some of the work, or not...as he would tell me everything I did wrong and it would be more hassle than it's worth. The question remains as to whether it's worth the price to get a piece of land and a house that is small for a move to a different and possibly better lifestyle?
Thinking about the weather too. Lately it has been mild here with days getting into the 50's. That's nice. Very nice. In Maine, what is the high? 7 degrees. Not so nice. But it is green there and we could take trips to the ocean. Ultimately I think the quality of life would be better for my children, if not for the whole family. It's definitely a safer place than our current city.
Really, if we focus on building a sustainable life, then perhaps this is the best choice. We could have this house in Maine paid off in a short time and have a tiny bit of land to do with as we choose. How we could make an income for other necessities is an interesting dilemma. We shall see. Things usually work themselves out. Or they don't, and we end up back in Colorado. I'd hate to do that again.
Still thinking of Maine. Found a wonderful old farmhouse out in Charleston. Thought about it, dreamed about it, moved in and redecorated it in my mind. And then... snooping will always get me into trouble...found a comment online about a minimum security correction facility just up the road. What??? So, I thought about it some more. Can't stand the thought of worrying about my kids wandering through open fields to encounter who? And really, it probably would never be a problem, but what if it was and I knew way back when and chose to move there anyway?
So, back to the drawing board. Found an old "converted" schoolhouse some distance away from the farmhouse. Dirt cheap, but not nearly big enough. R of course thinks we can finish it and build a greenhouse....blah blah blah. I'm still waiting for my studio here in Colorado and the basement room is two and a half years going, but still not done. It is a gamble to move into a smaller house and wait for my man to get around to anything. And of course I could do some of the work, or not...as he would tell me everything I did wrong and it would be more hassle than it's worth. The question remains as to whether it's worth the price to get a piece of land and a house that is small for a move to a different and possibly better lifestyle?
Thinking about the weather too. Lately it has been mild here with days getting into the 50's. That's nice. Very nice. In Maine, what is the high? 7 degrees. Not so nice. But it is green there and we could take trips to the ocean. Ultimately I think the quality of life would be better for my children, if not for the whole family. It's definitely a safer place than our current city.
Really, if we focus on building a sustainable life, then perhaps this is the best choice. We could have this house in Maine paid off in a short time and have a tiny bit of land to do with as we choose. How we could make an income for other necessities is an interesting dilemma. We shall see. Things usually work themselves out. Or they don't, and we end up back in Colorado. I'd hate to do that again.
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