Prolific Progeny

Both of my children now have blogs.

www.genogirl.blogspot.com

and

www.genoboygrowson.blogspot.com

Spelling on the first is a bit better than on the second. Or should I say less creative

I am exhausted. That seems to be how I function these days. Not feeling terribly creative, either. That's all for now.

Etan Patz is not a20/20 special

Etan Patz is my cousin.

Finding Om update

The dissertation is long over but Finding Om lives on.

New name: Finding Om Yoga Therapy.

Newly updated and tweaked website: http://www.findingom.net

New modules in development: Finding Om Yoga Therapy for Addicts and (what I am really excited about right now) Finding Om Yoga Therapy for parents of addicts.

Any constructive criticism on the website is welcome. I feel like it's pretty amateur looking but, although I am good a lots of things, visual design is not one of them.

Poster presentation at SYTAR

I just found out that my Finding Om presentation at SYTAR will be via a poster, not an oral presentation. I don't really mind that it's a poster-- in fact, in some ways posters get more attention, since they are displayed in the main hall the entire time, whereas if it were oral then only the people who attend those breakout sessions would hear it.

But here's the thing:

I don't mind public speaking.

I hate art projects.

See the problem?

Killing time

I have a client who was shot in the head and since then has pretty serious memory problems. His probation officer wants me to work with him on concrete skills like planning and following through with things. In theory no problem but there is actually a big problem:

He forgets our appointments. Every time. So I can't really work with him on making it to appointments if he doesn't come to the ones with me. Which is why I am sitting at work and writing on this blog rather than making a to-do list with a felon.

Half an hour until the federal probation relapse prevention group, which is actually kind of fun. And while I pretend to be doing important paperwork (I'm not on Facebook, that would be too obvious) I am listening to them chatting in the waiting room. And rolling my aching neck around.

I have been doing mindfulness meditations with the DHS group on Monday nights. Everyone has seemed really into it and I was feeling really good about the whole thing. I just heard collateral information from one of the DHS caseworkers, however, that some of them think it's "weird." I am going to bring it up in group. Let them call me weird to my face. Maybe I'll get called a flake. I guess if I want to make a career doing yoga therapy I should get used to it.

Which reminds me, I got approved to do a half day yoga therapy/experiential workshop here at my internship. I am excited and need to start getting my head around the specifics.

Over extension

I wish this were a post about yoga and how incredibly flexy I am. Over-extended, get it? I am the flexiest person in my class but I have no pride about this and rejoice in the accomplishments of those around me.

I am able to take long, full breaths and be in the moment at all times-- especially when faced with irritation. I recognize things as other's limitations, not flaws in myself, and accept the others where they are and for what they can offer on their own terms, not mine. All with the full recognition by my husband of all that I am and all that I do. And great sex.

Cue sound of record needle scratching across the vinyl.

Fuuuuuck. I AM SO TIRED!!! 9 hour days at work. I get up at 5 to be able to work out or do laundry or do volunteer work for the temple and be done by 7 so I can focus attention on the kids and getting them ready for school, all while getting myself ready for work.

Ever since that stupid accident I have to go to the chiropractor at least twice a week to keep the soreness, stiffness and pain at bay. He doesn't open until 9, which kind of conflicts with a lot of other things. I'd switch, but I've been with him since my stay at home mom days when my time was much more flexible and I trust him.

I have to take my children to the dentist and help with their school projects. I have to plan their birthday parties, concept to goody bag to actual execution. I have to keep the house reasonably clean. And do laundry. and undload the dishwasher. and read with my kids for at least 15 minutes every day and do Hebrew school homework at least 15 minutes every day and lay on my spinal molding foam blocks at least 15 minutes every day and and and and and...............................

Sometimes yoga just ain't enough.

Life is fat

My internship is busy-- 9 hours a day working with federal probationers. It's not what I had in mind for myself but I really like it. BUT.... the sitting all day is killing me. I am so fat right now and have minimal time to work out, although I do make time for it mostly every day. I am the heaviest I've been in my adult life and even my yoga clothes are tight. You know me well enough to know that this is NOT GOOD and I am struggling mentally very much.

I feel like I'm 2 people: one who is successful in lots of areas in life and cares about the environment and poor people etc and says looks don't matter, it's what is inside, and then another who is completely and entirely driven by being thin. I have been seeing a nutritionist because I want to lose weight but do it right, not in the eating disordered ways I have done it the past but her way is very slow and it's killing me. I see her today and I think I'm going to tell her I need to move a little quicker and see some immediate weight loss-- then I can move back to th slow steady boat. I don't know. I need some immediate gratification-- that and a little room in the legs and ass and waistband of my pants.

I'm sorry to complain. I'm having a hard time with this right now. I am positive if you saw me you would notice that I have gained weight and I hate that. I also know that you wouldn't care or think differently of me but I am miserable. In that area, which, me being me, colors everything else

Sigh. I had a dream that I was riding on the back of a whale last night. I wonder what that's about.

Self-loathing, activated

Today is a bad day to ask how I am doing. I have been feeling really shitty about myself and as if I have gotten out of touch with good nutrition. I know what good eating is and in general I don't eat lots of junk but I think I'm eating too much for what my body needs right now, maybe not enough protien and no doubt too much sugar. Maybe too many carbs. Or not enough. Whatever it is, something just doesn't feel right. I have also been (for about the last year) weighing myself 2-3 times a day and writing down everything I eat. Anyway, a week ago I went to a nutritionist who asked me to only weigh myself once a week and to not write down my eating. I ate really well for the first few days after that but the last 2 days I was feeling very premenstrual and gave in to every craving I had. Today I woke up feeling bloated and as if my face looks like an entrant in the Macy's Day Parade. So what did I do? Try on my tightest pair of jeans and weigh myself of course (not with the jeans on, duh). Weight: WAY too high-- higher than it's been in a long, long time. Jeans: too tight. Another duh.

I see the nutritionist again tomorrow and she is going to give me a meal plan. We'll see how that goes.

Finding Om: Live at SYTAR

Months ago I submitted an abstract of my Finding Om study for presentation at STYAR, the international Symposium on Yoga Therapy and Research in LA in early March. And yesterday I found out it got accepted! Hooray! Major exposure to a population who cares. Networking! Interest! Possible connections for future research! I am so, so excited.

I'm not sure whether it is a poster or oral presentation. I hope, hope, hope it is oral, because my arts and crafts skills are sorely lacking and I'd hate to have a sucky poster. But still...

In other news making yesterday a banner day, I ran 6.2 on the treadmill. Perceived exertion: high. Soreness afterwards: marathon grade (for about 2 hours). Happiness: great. I'm back. And I didn't even pig out too badly after drinking too much celebratory wine later that night.

Sorry, I've got to run

Over the past week or so I have noticed a creeping level of depression taking over my mood. There have been no major changes and nothing bad has happened. In fact, I had a therapy session with one of my federal probationers which I think may have been the best session I ever did in my life.

Even so, I have been getting weepier and weepier over nothing, feeling more and more negative about myself (big time), eating more and more for no apparent reason, and having a hard time shaking it off. And it began to dawn on me that I used to feel like this a lot more before I started running. I haven't stopped exercising, still doing yoga and lifting and the elliptical and the stairmill but, as any runner knows, nothing substitutes for whatever it is that running does to your endorphins. I'm not talking about a runners high, since I don't usually get that from an average weekday run. I'm talking about general psychological maintenance.

I haven't run since I was rear-ended on Dec 5th and told by my chiropractor that I should take 6 weeks off. As of today I have taken off 5 weeks. I don't want to hurt my body but I also need to take care of my mental health. So I am meeting Scoop, my beloved running partner, at the YMCA this morning for a treadmill experiment.

There are 2 parts to this experiment. The first is an attempt to listen to my body, go slowly, and only go as far as my body keeps on feeling good. In theory this may mean 1/2 hour on the treadmill, finish up the hour on the much-less-jarring elliptical. What I would love is to do a full hour on the treadmill, keep it slow, but still manage to get in 6 miles.

The second part of this experiement is to not get triggered by however much faster than me Scoop may be going and fall into a competitive groove that could ultimately hurt me and make me take even more time off. I am not competitive against her in races but part of what makes us great training partners is that we push each other and try to keep up with each other in training. I just need to remember: all in good time, my dear. All in good time. Maybe I'll only be able to run a few miles at a time for a few weeks.

I don't mean to be overly dramatic either. I mean, Army Capt. David Rozelle got his leg blown off in Iraq and ran the NYC marathon 6 months later. Although I have no idea what his chiropractor might have had to say about that, he went on to do the Ironman, so I guess he's okay.

So it's official. As of today, in one way or another, I'm back.

I Cried... in Bikram!

Who ever heard of such a thing?

Possibly it was because 2 women who are a few years older than me and look fabulous were doing their thing in the front row (as usual) and I was looking kind of chubby in the back row. And I had on a crappy outfit.

Or maybe it was because my new fitness routine includes more weight lifting and less yoga and I was feeling particularly stiff. And my neck kind of hurt. Damn whiplash. A month and I'm still feeling it. I never realized how much you use your neck in Bikram.

Perhaps because I was so damn sweaty that no one would notice a few tears running down my face and I just needed a good cry. Who knows. But it certainly was unexpected.

I miss running like crazy. I think I'm going to run 3 miles on the treadmill in the basement on Tuesday morning before my boss and I take a field trip to the federal penitentiary. I've got big plans for the summer and I've got to get moving again.

I sure haven't blogged in a long time. I blame my internship. It is great but 9 hours a day is a lot of time to be busy. Despair not, dear readers. I shall return.

Whiplash sucks

So I officially have whiplash. At first I didn't really feel too bad and was minimizing the situation. My car is totalled and the guy who hit me's insurance is buying it from me and selling it to salvage. Guess there's no hope for that puppy.

But me? Heck. I'm strong. I can do 12 pullups in a row and bench press my own weight. I can run for an hour plus no problem-o. I do yoga 2-3 times a week. Me be hurt? Nah.

Wouldn't that be nice if it were the case. Reality is that almost two weeks later I feel worse than I did at first and am starting to take this more seriously. Yesterday while leading the evening DHS group it was all I could do not to lay down on the floor, as my back and neck were aching. I am temporarily not allowed (by my chiropractor) to run, lift or stand on my head. I have never done viparita karani so many times in my life as I have this past week. THIS SUCKS.

I hate being injured. I have always taken my health for granted and it is a hard lesson to have it pointed out to me in such a dramatic way. Thank God it is not cancer or anything of that ilk. But it still sucks. I don't feel sorry for myself, but I do wish it had never happened and that it would go away.

In the meantime, off the the elliptical... again.

In the blink of an eye

It's amazing how quickly things can change-- and how lucky we are that they pretty much don't.

On Friday morning my older daughter and I were driving to the bagel store, basically to kill time after dropping the younger girl off at a before-school activity and before the older one needed to be back for the morning bell. La la la, sitting at the traffic light minding my own business and... SLAM!!!!!! Massively rear-ended. Back of my Honda minivan is a mess, thanks to a rather large Toyota pickup sliding into me, courtesy of a very icy morning.

Everything was and is fine (except the van, which drives but looks pretty bad and I can no longer open the back). And that is just the point. I have minor whiplash but the pills the doc gave me make me feel a lot worse than just stiff. BUt I'm fine. My daughter is stiff and sore too and was pretty shaken up but we are fine.

I am so grateful for our health and all that we have in life. This really drove that home for me (ha ha, get the pun?). A car is stuff, and stuff means nothing. It's the people in our lives that matter, it is our health, how we take care of ourselves and the others around us.

I know this sounds hokey but I have been so overwhelmed with gratitude the last few days I needed to share.

Ch-ch-ch changes

Wow is my life different than it was in October.

I used to have lots of free time. Now I'm not sure I remember what it is.

I used to not know any felons. Now I know lots of felons. And spend time alone with them in close quarters with the door closed on a regular basis.

I used to not know any people who had their kids taken away by the Department of Human Services. Now I lead a support group for them on a weekly basis.

I used to not know anyone who used heroin. Now I need to send a 28 year old woman to detox and inpatient treatment to kick the habit-- or else she will lose her kids, not to mention herself. Although I'm afraid for her that she may already be lost.

They say to count your blessings. I never realized how truly blessed I am. And I am grateful. Really, really and truly grateful. Wouldn't mind more free time... but still grateful.

Potluck for Felons is TODAY

The men in my Federal Probation Relapse Prevention group had the clever idea of each providing one ingredient toward creating burrito bowls for the potluck they (and I) have been told to attend tonight. However, upon reflection I realized that no one had actually coordinated who would bring what.

So my supervisor had the idea that we call them with a "reminder message" and give them each an assignment. And so I did. It went like this: "Hi Joe, This is Debby from HCH. I just wanted to remind you about the potluck this Wednesday at group, and ask you to bring shredded lettuce for the burrito bowls." I mostly left messages, but no one with whom I spoke protested. I wonder whether they thought we had already arranged this and they forgot.

I'll let you know how it works out.

Potluck ideas from Felons

They seem to think burrito bowls are the way to go, with everyone bringing one ingredient. Apparently, this is a popular prison treat.

Potluck ideas for Felons, anyone?

This is a call to help from you, my gentle readers. In two weeks the Wednesday night Relapse Prevention Group which I lead is joining all the other support groups at my office for a Thanksgiving potluck. This sent the men into a greater tizzy than the thought of returning to prison (which, frankly, many of them don't seem too concerned about). So I thought I might help them out by coming up with a list of suggestions of things they might bring.

They are always complaining about lack of cash, and since none of them seem particularly domestic, and since most of them have to take cabs or buses or get rides since a condition of their probation is having their license taken away, I think the main criteria should be:

*inexpensive ingredients
*no prior cooking knowledge required
*easily portable

Ideas? Suggestions?

Feeling Refreshed

What a nice feeling to rise on a morning after which my adopted home state voted for not one but two major democratic candidates-- Obama and Mark Udall, who won the Colorado State senate seat. What a difference from when I moved here in 1997, when the loudest voice on the local scene seemed to be that of Dr. James Dobson, head of Focus on the Family. I am so proud of our country and so proud of my state.

I only hope that we can learn from all that we have been through and that true change is not too hard a reality to bring about.

Workin' Stiff

I love my new internship. But it's a job. A nine hour a day job. A pack lunch AND dinner (twice a week) kind of a job. And I'm tired.

I think it's endemic in our society that we try to do it all and don't give ourselves credit for what we are accomplishing. I have tried to simply work this job into my schedule without giving up anything else. No skipped workouts. No pre-made dinners on the nights that I am home. No hot lunches at school- all still packed with love and lots of fruit and veggies.

That's not entirely true. I did buy pre-chopped garlic in a bottle to use while making dinner.

Anyway. Why do we feel we need to do so much all the time? And why can I not figure out what I would give up, if I were to give up anything? Maybe I just need to realize how much I am doing and treat myself with a bit of extra kindness because of it.

The Circle of (my) life

Yesterday I ended my post saying life is good. And it is. So why does my day start on such a sour note when my scale reads 2 pounds higher than I'd like it to? And why are those 2 pounds hanging around, despite my newly cleaned up eating habits?