The Chocolate Chip Collection--Last day!

It's the last day, guys! We made it. I probably won't be posting for a while after this. And by a while I mean two days.

Today's prompt is to talk about a vivid memory.

Well, in sixth grade, I was on a mission to make friends. Not being the most social of sorts, I kind of stumbled my way through homeroom, looking for someone entirely glittery, or someone who was on the quieter side.

I ended up finding both. But let's not digress here.

It probably wasn't cool to give your fra-quaintances (acquaintances on the brink of becoming friends) house tours in sixth grade, but I didn't understand social conduct lived on the edge. I invited a girl from homeroom to see my house; she was pretty enthralled by the swings in our basement (who wouldn't be?) and enjoyed the painting that read "this is Oomfufu getting eaten by a crocodile. All because he didn't listen to his mother," but I genuinely thought that she would be most impressed by the glory in my room: the chocolate chip collection.

Yes, I kept a bunch of chocolate chips sitting in a container in my room. They weren't entirely special, and the eventually got a sort of tinny flavor. Nonetheless, I was super proud of my "work." I even offered this friend one to eat, which was so rare it was almost sacred.

I'm not entirely sure that made a great impression on this girl. Luckily, she's just as chocolate-obsessed as me.

And yes, I'm still excited by swings in a basement. Join me in my mission to remain a child.

Namaste.

Leaving

Here's a fun fact: People don't usually live in an ashram their entire lives.

Who woulda thunk it?

 Shoshoni is filled with people who flit in and out of work study, teacher training, and month long programs where former blonds play dress-up in some hippie skirts for a while.

Ah, to be young and wear jeans again.

Five of us are leaving or have already left this week. For some, this was expected. But when there are people who have stayed 1+ years at the ashram, my brain tends to expect that they've made their final life choice and will hang out with Ganesha and do some pujas until the day they die.

Oh brain, why must you oversimplify so?

When it comes to saying goodbye to people, that's always been a huge deal for me. Let's set the scene with a 14 year old Kira at a camp that kind of freaked her out seeing as the entire cabin prided themselves on being bisexual and the girls enjoyed in partaking in "fuck-buddy-dom." Two weeks later, 14 year old Kira gets picked up by her father, starts crying and hugging her cabin-mates, sobbing "I love you guys; I'll miss you so much!"

At Shoshoni, as soon as Nabha started making his goodbye speech, tear poured down my eyes. Even though I'd interacted with him for two months of my life, that's like an eternity in ashram time. I sobbed over the cards he'd written for everyone. Those who had been there for years certainly expressed that they'd miss him and told fun Nabha stories, but I was almost appalled at their lack of tears.

You mean you've known him for over six years, and you're not even gonna cry? 

Well that's a vata reaction if I ever had one.

The residents at Shoshoni aren't cold-hearted, nor do they wish anyone to leave. They're some of the most caring people I have ever met, they're just not in your face, "I'm gonna bake you a million cookies" about it. They recognize the impermanence of leaving. Just because a person leaves the ashram, doesn't mean Shoshoni-ites will never hear from him again. It doesn't mean he's abandoning his personal growth, nor is he saying he no longer cares about his ashram family.

I met an immersion friend last year who left with some wise words: "It's not goodbye; it's 'I'll see you later.'"

So, to my Shoshoni family, I'll see you guys later."

Namaste.

Letting Go--Day 30

This prompt is actually perfect for my month long yoga immersion program--where the entire purpose of being at Shoshoni is to let go.

"React to this term: letting go."

One of the biggest parts of letting go is to follow the breath. It sounds simple enough, but we tend to breathe only in the lungs; taking deep, conscious breaths to the belly helps us live in the present and to not feel like we're going to implode any second. This has helped me a lot more than simply watching the breath but not manipulating it, because when my mind doesn't have enough to do it starts thinking about what kind of jeans I should buy and if $50 of lip gloss is going a bit too far.

It is, for the record. But hey, YOLO.

I guess the yoga version of that should be "YOLF." You only live forever--woot, reincarnation.

While I have my fair share of "why did I?" moments, it's really the "what if?"s that take over my brain. And that's where living in the present helps tremendously. I mean, it really does nobody any good when you take that road less traveled, and it ends up taking to some shady forest (hah, get it) where a bunch of elves dance around and tell you that you can only eat pie and walk on your left foot, and you're all "man, I should've taken that other trail."

So the present moment. That's a fun time.

Another thing that helps to let go is taking care of yourself. And I'm not talking bubble baths and million dollar spa treatments. Just basic eating and exercise is enough to feel so much freer. When your body is in check, it allows your mind to focus on much more interesting things, like mourning the fact that the Pterodactyl never actually existed.

Damn you, false dinosaur science.

Plus, when you're trying to balance on your forearms and put your legs behind your head, you really can't help but stay in the present moment. Unless you're this guy:

The Boulder contortionist

But letting go doesn't always mean sitting completely still and thinking about not thinking. One of the most helpful ways to let go of the self, is to stop focusing on the self. Like, if you read about some fairy who lives with a mountain lion, it's easier to not think about how many calories you burned running after your pet chicken than if you were sitting on a cushion for an hour.

Reading provides that escape from the incessant self-examination. We tend to view escape as a negative thing, but I mean, Houdini was a celebrated guy. Being introspective has its positive moments--a better understanding of the self allows us to get past our patterns. In that sense, meditation is helpful. But it's getting past the self that requires some tools. And since I'm no good with power tools, books are my weapon of choice.

It's not the most yogic answer, but I've always been stubborn.

Namaste.

Thoughts From a Shoshoni-ite: The Last Week

By the time I can officially call myself a mountain woman (yeah I went hiking--once), I'm preparing to return home. The pressure of time can do that to a person--it kicks your butt into gear to full experience the epicness that is Colorado.

I've met some chickens, seen some mountains, ridden some carousels...every nineteen year old's dream, non?

 The thing about ashram time, is that it is basically a time-warp. A week is a month; a month is a day. You're at Shoshoni forever and for no time at all. Stepping into the "real world," you think "I have all the spirituality in the world!" Then the next day, you're buying a large coffee and munching on some freshly baked ego.
I don't know what freshly baked ego looks like. Hopefully it has a lot of chocolate.



The greatest takeaway that I've gotten from Shoshoni isn't that 108 cycles of a chant is the meaning of life, nor will a series of sun salutations give you insta-enlightenment. Shoshoni teaches that if you give up resistance to dishes and early mornings and just do it, you'll realize that you're more capable than your mind tricked you into believing.

There will be breakdowns. There will be blood. Just kidding, it'll only be a flesh wound. Part of re-constructing yourself is destructing yourself. Not in a "let's go get wasted every night" kinda way. More like "let's pay attention to my patterns for more than two seconds" kinda way. That's what makes Shiva such a powerful deity--the god of destruction. Re-birth has to come from the remnants of something, right?

When you're in a place that advertises itself as completely non-judgmental, it's fascinating to see people's true selves come out. Sometimes this isn't as kittens-and-rainbows filled as the inner self. But the first step is taking that guard down and letting the not-so-pretty emotions come through.

So you think it's impossible to cry over a misplaced mug multiple times? Think again!
Also, you will learn the skill of living with multiple roommates and not wanting to die. So that's pleasant.

I know. This should be some mightily philosophical blog. But oftentimes, when you make some grand revelation, it doesn't really stick. I mean, how many times have you said you're over him, you're over him, than jumped for joy at the latest text? It's really when you forget to have epiphanies, that the true change happens.

Or at least that's what I tell myself at night when I continue to rot my brain with hours of television.

I've also learned that arm balances are hard. When you learn the secret to side-crow pose, let me know.

Namaste.

Photos-synthesized--Day 28

Today's prompt is to do a blog with only pictures?
No captions, even? Oh my...
How about a "year in pictures?"

Namaste.

Lessons from an Ashram

Even though my ultimate goal for this summer was to rot my brain with television and refuse to think a literary thought until the upcoming semester, it seems I'm just too English-y to make that happen. It also seems you learn a lot more than you'd think in an ashram--you know, besides realizing that it's really hard to chant for an hour if you haven't drunk at least a gallon of water beforehand.

1) Take deep breaths.
Like, seriously. This is not some "voodoo, only yogis can do it" kinda thing. When it comes to chakras and chanting, I'm one of the biggest skeptics in the ashram. I don't voice my opinion about it, but I also realize that I can take bits and pieces of a practice (another lesson learned). But even when I'm feeling my most un-spiritual, taking deep breaths is scientifically proven to calm the nervous system, thus relaxing the mind. And it's pretty instantaneous.

2) If someone says it's not a big deal, it's not a big deal.
When you're serving a large community, you're bound to have a lot of chores. They call me the sweeping master. Except when they don't. Granted, everyone is expected to do their best, and people tend to get upset when there's a huge bundle of chores loaded onto their day, but if you fold a towel wrong or forget to spray a pan, someone's gentle reminder doesn't actually translate into "you worthless animal; why did you ever set foot on this planet?" Apologizing is all fine and dandy when you do something terribly wrong, but I tend to be an over-apologizer. After receiving an Ayurvedic massage, I actually apologized to the trainee for having ticklish feet. If you do something wrong by accident and someone shows you how to fix it, "cool," or "got it," or "supercalafragalisticexpealadocious" are much more appropriate responses than "I'MSOSORRYI'LLNEVERDOTHATEVERAGAINFORASLONGASILIVEDON'THATEME."

3) Couples happen.
When there's a 50/50 ratio (in a somewhat small group) of guys and girls, couples are bound to happen. Sometimes, you will feel like the unattractive odd one out. Jealousy may ensue. Shit happens.

4) Exercise first thing in the morning.
It's tough, especially pre-coffee, but you're bound to feel much more balanced and at ease after stretching out your joints and heating up the body before cramming yourself in a tight workspace for the next eight hours.

5) Laughter is not malicious.
We've all had embarrassing moments when others notice what happened and start to laugh. For the next hour, that person's thought process tends to be "oh how could I be so stupid, everyone must hate me," while the rest of the world forgets like normal people. During temple tonight, we made offerings to the deities. One of the offerings includes an umbrella. As a staff member passed the umbrella on to Nick, the umbrella tore. He admirably went up to the altar anyway, while others were laughing. I certainly wasn't judging him, nor did I think him to be any less spiritual because umbrellas have a pesky habit of tearing. When an embarrassing moment happens outside ourselves, it makes it easier to realize how little we should harp on our own moments.

6) It's all from the core.
If you want to do those super epic yoga postures, you gotta work the core. Sorry. That's just how it is.
Guess the core curriculum isn't so terrible after all, huh?

Namaste.  

Dear Reader--Day 27

Today's prompt is to write a letter to my readers.
This is a tough one. Before the BEDIM challenge, most of my readers were my family and close friends. I love writing for a wider audience, but I feel we should get to know each other personally. Because of this, I welcome (and encourage) many comments sharing who you are, why you started blogging, and if you could be any animal, what would you choose?
That's your homework for today. Yup, I'm a hardass. We just met and I'm already assigning you homework.

Maybe I should try the good cop approach.

Dear reader,
Hello. Please come in. Would you like some wine? I'm not 21; I don't have any wine. Perhaps some coffee?

So, since a lot of you are coming in about a year after I've started my blogging journey (or a "blourney" as...no one should call it. That sounds like some kind of horrible wart), I'd like to tell you why I started this blog.

Welp, my favorite genre of all time is creative nonfiction. And while I've been journal-ing since age five, there's only so many times I can cry onto my notebook paper going, "wahhh, this boy doesn't like me; my life is over!" Blogging is a practice in talking about one's life without seeming too self-indulgent and being interesting enough to engage other people.

I also started this blog right before I went to Shoshoni (an ashram) for the first time. I wanted to record my spiritual journey and that whole inner self bit. The blog took a bit of a turn and ended up being rants about jeans and Jenna Marbles, but I find satire to be more fun to write than "oohooh, I'm so spiritual."

I know this blog differs stylistically quite a bit. One day I'm feeling like serving up a dish of existentialism, the next I'm talking about what reality television has taught me. Is there a kind of blog-style you prefer, or that you think I rock at?
Personally, I enjoy writing funny blogs the most, but they also take more time to form. Serious thoughts just kind of flow out of me (in writing at least--in person I'm more on the bubbly side). 

To my readers who have a blog, I would love to follow you! Let's be internet friends. In a non creepy way. I'm fascinated by people and their lives. Again, in a non creepy way.

I like your face. Is that weird?

Sometimes I get uncomfortable in social situations. Let me offer you more coffee.

I've always wondered if blog readers want to know every single detail of the writer's life, or if they prefer to leave some mystery behind. Being a people pleaser, I'll have you know that my first word started with a C and ended with a T, and that it was not "Connecticut."

Maybe if you see me in my natural habitat, it will be less weird?

The 13 1/2 lives of captain bluebear. Read it. You're welcome.

So...thanks for not running away from the insanity that is my brain. You all get cookies because you're awesome.

Cookies and coffee...aren't I a fabulous host?

Namaste.

Musicality--Day 29

Today's prompt is to post five songs that really speak to me or bring back memories.

Who's surprised that the first song is going to be Lindsey Stirling?

1) "Shadows"--Lindsey Stirling

I discovered Lindsey Stirling on Pandora, and ever since have been hooked on her Dubstep violin. Her dancing exudes pure joy.

2) "Bad Day"--Daniel Powter
This was played basically every other minute during middle school. The timing was pretty damn perfect, but every time I hear this song I think of lunchroom politics and bad acne.

3) "I Miss You"--Blink 182
Okay, this song partly has a mushy, romantic reason behind it. I was dating this guy whose taste of music I had absolutely nothing in common with, except for Blink 182. We "argued" on and off about what our song should be (we never agreed on one--but it's horribly cheesy to have a contrived "song" with a significant other). I was dead set on this song. He wanted "Got it Made" by Theory of a Deadman, which, if you listen to it, is about as romantic as sitting on a bunch of rose thorns. But regardless of our lack of "couply" songs, we still listened to this one quite a bit.

Plus, having Halloween on Christmas sounds like an excellent idea.

4) "Sk8er Boi"--Avril Lavine
In elementary school, my friend Bryn and I would put on these elaborate dance performances that we thought to be "music video competitions." Does such a thing exist? We would take on the part of each of the groups--our favorite being a set of twins named Amy and Rachel who called their group "the Glitter Girls." We danced to this song multiple times, all for the awesome hair-flip-ability of the music.

5) "Paradise"--Coldplay
I don't know if Coldplay has my room bugged, but this song basically describes my life. I pretty much lived in my own paradise as a child, so growing up has always been a bit of a struggle. The emotion of this song is so high, but not in a "woe is me" kind of way. It's just got this burst of energy that shows how teenagers want to live, but must leave behind.

Namaste.

Yoga Bitch

Today's prompt is to talk about something I read online. While there are many articles that anger me, like this one and blogs that make me want to yell at the anti-YouTube generation like this one. But instead of seceding to the online obsession (see Joel Stein, we're not all clones of each other), I thought I'd talk about a book.

I know what is this madness?

Let's not get crazy here. Or, should I say, cray.

The thing about Suzanne Morrison's Yoga Bitch is that not only is it ridiculous funny, it is also ridiculously honest. Like, pretty much every person who has entered a spiritual journey has had embarrassingly simple questions, such as "what if my chakras just don't want to be opened?" or "why is counterclockwise more spiritual than clockwise?"

Morrison is not afraid to ask these questions. She also has an appropriately disgusted reaction to the cult like practice of pee-drinking.

I'm really quite glad they don't drink their pee at Shoshoni.

Reading this book, I could tell that Morrison respects the art of yoga. She idolizes her teacher, and wants to grow. But she also doesn't want to lose her inner cynic. Sometimes, subtle sarcasm is just as important as the subtle body. She revels in overindulgent desserts. She gets too attached to guys.

This is one of the only yoga books whose ultimate message isn't "let go completely of the outer self to experience the inner." Morrison's message is actually much more Buddhist than that; she advocates the middle way. She's not going to sacrifice all the coffee and cigarettes for her inner self. That's far too needy; it's like bowing down to a demanding boyfriend. She'll hang out with the inner self; they'll have some laughs. But she recognizes that sometimes, you just gotta have some ego. It's a special treat, like Sunday pancakes or cake with a brick of chocolate icing.

Namaste. 

Too Conscientious--Day 25

Today's prompt is to talk about something a person said about me that I'll never forget.
Who wants to guess that I'm going to tell you two things?
Good job, young grasshopper.

The first thing happened last April, during my last trip at Shoshoni. Meitreya waited about three weeks to tell me this, but he had been thinking it since I had arrived. He told me I looked like a koala. At first I was a little, "what, why don't I look human?" But koalas are adorable, so I can deal.

The second thing was during my first semester of college. My English professor liked to switch the syllabus around in order to get us to really dive into learning how to write (freshman seminars: so slow, they will kill you). I normally did my homework for that class the weekend before it was due in order to get it out of the way. Reading the first third of Jane Eyre and writing a short response was on the syllabus for Thursday, so I emailed my prof a page of my thoughts on the book on Sunday. As I came into her office hours, she told me that I was "too conscientious" and that she didn't quite know what to do with me.

It's actually hatred of responsibility that gets me ahead in class, but y'know, let's pretend it's for more genuine purposes.

How about you lovely people? What are some things people have said about you?

Namaste.

Bad Company--Day 24

Welp, isn't today's prompt a fun one? My top three worst traits. Wheeee, there goes my ego, straight out the window.
Okay.
Maybe I should've tried to "sell myself" more a few weeks ago.

Should we just go with the fact that I'm too awesome? No?

1) I'm sensitive
This can be seen as a good trait--it's easy to tell when people are having a bad day, or when they're off-kilter, but it can also be like, "oh my god, you're wearing purple today...why do you hate me???". A lot of sensitivity comes from reading tone of voice incorrectly--same with facial expressions. There's a lot of firey, "let's-not-stop-to-sit-and-talk-about-our-feelings" kind of people, and the sensitive sort reads that as being cold. Sometimes sarcasm gets lost on the sensitives of the world.

2) I'm shy.
It's alright when I'm a shy introvert, but being a shy extrovert can be awfully painful. It's hard to want to make connections, to feel better when you're surrounded by people, but to not know how to make conversation, or how to stop looking like an idiot. The more public the place I'm in, the more timid I become.

3) I'm confrontational
I mean, I'm not aggressive about conflict, but I have trouble letting go an argument or misunderstanding. If I'm with a friend, and I bring them Brie cheese, and they're all "no no, I wanted Gouda," I'll want to talk about the mis-communication for the next week and how to avoid it. If there's the slightest of tiffs, I'm scribbling out ways to fix it.

Well, hey reader, it was nice talkin' to ya'. Stop by real soon; I'll make you a nice cup of "you-looked-at-me-funny-you-must-hate-me."

Can I redeem myself by saying I make chocolate chip cookies with thrice the amount of chocolate?

Here. Have a cyber-cookie.

Namaste.

The Ten Minute Hug

So this is kind of a continuation of "Things that Make me uncomfortable." Some people tend to be very huggy. And touchy. Not "let's make out in the bushes" kind of touchy, but just "hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here's a ten minute hug!"

And that just makes me a wee bit uncomfortable.

I've never been that much of a touchy/feely person. Sure, my friends and I had cuddle fests during sleepovers, and I hug my mom, but I am not one to initiate physical contact of any sort.

Take that as you will.

Many times I get the reaction "oh, you don't like hugs? You must be colder than Iceland!" First off, Iceland is not very cold. And second, just because I don't send my arms soaring around someone's waist does not mean I don't care about them.

For the sake of this post, let's drop the whole "your body is a temple" act. If it's a temple, it's one creaky, weird, grumbly temple. If someone were to tell me they had missed me, I could still hide the fact that I'd missed lunch and that my stomach had the same tremor level as an earthquake. If your shoulder starts cracking and your throat starts doing the weird frog thing, it's gonna get awkward for both hugging parties pretty quickly.

And even if your stomach cooperates, your throat un-frogged, and your joints intact, the hug never ceases to be awkward. The long ones are the worst, noise-wise. The hug initiator will probably close her eyes and go "mmmmm."

I tend to save my "mmmmm"s for really delicious cookies.

So then you're stuck having to decide if you too should chime into the hum, or if that would make you sound too much like a terrible a Capella group. As for the eyes, open or closed? If the hugging partner closes her eyes, you're gonna feel like you're staring really creepily. But what if you close your eyes, and the other person makes some kind of facial cue that the hug should end? Then you enter the awkward(er) zone. And that's just not cool.

Might I just add that hugging someone of the opposite gender who is about the same height sometimes makes you want to die?...If you catch my drift.

But one thing that really gets me is the ten minute hugs between you and the person you saw yesterday. I'll accept the dramatic "I've missed you so much!" hugs, but like chocolate cake, they should be reserved for special occasions, if at all. Everyday ten-minute hugs, to me, are the equivalent of an overly needy boyfriend who gives you a box of chocolates every single day. It doesn't become special anymore. It turns into a "when is this gonna end?" kind of deal.

Not to mention physical contact is already ambiguous. Was the side hug because of a certain angle, or because that person didn't really want to touch you? Did he poke you with his finger because he was being silly, or flirting?

Sure, speech can be ambiguous, but generally, "hey, you're cool," or "I missed you" have pretty standard meanings.

And they take much less time to convey the message.

Namaste.

Stop Banning "I"--Day 23

Today's prompt is to talk about things I've learned that school won't teach you.

As an English major, this should be fun.

1) The word "utilize" should never be used. It sounds pompous and like you're sucking up to your teacher. Which is exactly what you're doing. So stop.

2) You can easily get past the internet blockers your school sets up.

3) No matter the format of an essay, the word "I" should not be banned. "I think," and "I believe," you can do without, but to completely eliminate "I"?
No. Just no.

4) You should not treat the 5-paragraph essay rule as your Bible.
Sure, 5 paragraphs are a good way to start out and get the basic idea of your essay, but in the real world, it doesn't matter how many paragraphs you have. It matters if you can transition between ideas and allow them to flow nicely.

5) Middle school is a time to be bitchy, hormonal, and weird. Embrace it. Revel in your angst. There's nothing worse than having held-up angst that you are forced to let go when you're 40.
It's not so socially acceptable to be angsty at age 40.

6) Don't eat the chicken nuggets.

7) Your teachers will instantly become nicer to you when they're not your teachers anymore.

8) You will see them in the "real world." Be prepared.

9) Don't ever wear strapless dresses to a school dance. Unless you are absolutely positive you are not actually going to dance.

10) Don't ever wear jeans under skirts. You will become "that person."

11) Your high school relationship is going to end. Say it with me: Your high school relationship is going to end.

12) The "perfect" people who join a million clubs and get 5.0 GPAs are actually robots that will malfunction in fifteen years. Shhh, it's a secret.

13) Use the "I'm on my period" excuse as many times as possible during gym class. This is especially convenient for the swimming unit.

14) These are not the best four years of your life. The best four years of your life are when nobody tells you they are the best four years of your life.

15) Quoting Mean Girls constantly will help you through your high school years.

16) Stop trying to make "fetch" happen. It's not going to happen.

17) Drama is exciting in the moment, but you're going to feel really silly after spending a bajillion hours fighting over who has a rounder left eye. If you're itching for drama, write a play.

18) Nobody uses I-messages in conflict solving. This is when make-up sex comes in handy.
I'm totally kidding. You just buy the person you're fighting with something shiny and all will be forgotten.

19) Grad school is the new college.

20) So don't be surprised if you take burger orders once you're "free."

21) Unless your parents are millionaires, you probably won't be going to your dream school. Cost is probably the hugest factor in choosing a college.

Namaste.

Ayurveda, Explained: A Conversation With Vatas, Pittas and Kaphas

When you immerse yourself in a yogic practice, you'll probably hear quite a bit about Ayurveda. And then you'll want to stock up on Kombocha at Whole Foods.

Okay, maybe not. I know my reaction to this practice was "is that some kind of disease?"

Au contraire, oh internet friend. Ayurveda is a form of alternative medicine that uses doshas to determine what exercise regime/diet/cat is best for you.

I may or may not be serious about the cat thing.

Doshas constitute a person's "type." It's kind of like the Myers-Briggs personality test, except with less vague questions about how you think about humankind and its destiny. Doshas typically incorporate the physical body as well as the mind.

So what do these Doshas mean?

I'm going to illustrate these types with a lovely dialogue between Darth Vatar (a vata--and yes, I intentionally rearranged the lettering), Pitta Patter and Mr. Good Kap (a Kapha).

On exercise:
Darth Vatar: Ooh, I want to jump on the trampoline! No, wait--I've got a better idea! Let's go rock climbing! Can we go exploring? I know the--hey, are we lost?
Pitta Patter: Here's our plan: We're gonna go on a short five hour hike, but we really have to raise the intensity when we climb. I was thinking Everest this afternoon.
Good Kap: If I watch you run around, does that count as exercise?

On free time:
Darth Vatar: I've got some crayons, some paints, ten writing prompts, a sewing kit, some markers, and a book of guitar lessons. Do you think that will be enough for this afternoon?
Pitta Patter: I'm gonna clean the entire house, then our neighbor's house, then I'm gonna run on the treadmill for two hours, and if there's time, I'll fix that whole world hunger deal.
Good Kap: Ommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

On anger:
Darth Vatar: [Bursts into tears] I'm sorry! I'll never be annoying for as long as I live! Don't hate me! I just want us to all be friends.
Pitta Patter: How dare you be so annoying! If you just saw how much you sit around and wait for me to do all the work! You pig-headed, pickle-brained newt!
Good Kap: Let's just all take a breather and cool down in our rooms. We'll talk it out later.

On sleep:
Darth Vatar: I counted five million sheep and I still can't sleep. I haven't slept in ten years.
Pitta Patter: Well, I got my full ten minutes of sleep.
Good Kap: Close your eyes and put your head on the pillow. Remain unconscious for twelve hours and repeat.

On work:
Darth Vatar: I was a teacher once, but then I moved on to become a painter for a month, then I joined the circus, but I'm thinking of moving to Timbuktu and becoming a contortionist.
Pitta Patter: I am a professional rhetorician. I can persuade the hell out of anyone.
Good Kap: I work a 9-5 office job and love it! Mmm, smells like bad office coffee and routine.

You can find out what dosha you are here or here

You may find you are bi-dosha or even tri-dosha. It's common to be one dosha in body and the other in mind. 

Namaste.

Day 22--Annoying Facebookers (hint: it's all of us)

So is this blog going to seem petty and whiny to some? Probably. Is it also going to make the utmost sense?
You bet your ass it will.
Today's prompt is the perfect for how I'm feeling: Rant about something. Anything at all. I do love a good opportunity to rant, particularly about facebookers who annoy me.

Am I one of these Facebookers? Yes. Remember how I told you about my addiction--we'll get over this self-indulgent mess together. 

The Facebooker that by far annoys me the most is the vague status-er. I mean, if one's vague status was ever "I have surprise for all my facebook friends," then they presented some Godiva chocolate to all their 5,000 friends, that would be awesome. But the vague status is either "I'm happy because some mystery guy called me pretty," or "you broke my heart, you crushed my soul, la la la isn't adolescence great?"

And how many of these social networking friends are you actually going to call up and be able to talk to in farther detail?

Which begs the question: How many other social networking friends actually care?

One of the goals of Facebook is to connect with people you haven't seen in a while. With the older generation steadily making their way onto Facebook, you're really letting your entire extended family know every single detail. But if you went to see your Great Aunt Edna in person and she asked you what was new in life, would you break down and be all "this guy [sob] l--likes another girl! My life is over!!!"?

Some family reunion that would be.

The vague status-er also enjoys the improper use of "you." They fail to realize that their entire facebook audience becomes "you" once they've read this status.

If that were the case, I would've broken a lot more hearts than I've actually known. I've also gotten told off by a lot of people I've said like two words to.

"Hey you, yes you, stop giving me shit" probably makes sense to about 1% of the statuser's Facebook population. If you're going to be outraged by something a certain person did and you need to put it in the written word, get a journal. Better yet, click on that person's name and write on their wall.

Being vague does not make you cool. I guarantee you, it will make 99.999999% of your Facebook friends roll their eyes and wonder what the hell they're still doing on their news feed.

Oftentimes, the vague status-er uses song lyrics to show how terrible his life is. While I see some awesome Beatles song lyrics every now and then, more often my news feed becomes flooded with Taylor Swift, Nickleback, and other generic pop music. Thousands of different song lyrics boil down to three basic messages:

1) I'm so depressed. Can't you see how depressed I am? Nobody cares. I'm all alone. But I'm gonna be in your face about how alone I am, so everyone can pity me.
2) I'm happy, so happy, life is beautiful, kittens and rainbows and hormones that are going through the roof because that attractive person would like to be mutual face-lickers.
3) I don't give a fuck about what anyone thinks, nobody should give a fuck about what I think, let's just pretend this whole emotion thing never happened, shall we?

But far worse than Facebook personalities is Facebook times.
Let's give election season a long look, shall we?
I'm all for being informed. I'd love to see some articles about the candidates' strategies, and even some well-crafted opinion pieces never hurt anyone. A few memes poking fun at both parties is worth a good laugh. But "Obama sucks" or "down with Romney," is just petty and you're going to offend at least half of your online audience.
I've lost track of how many "YES!" or "I'm moving to Canada"s or "Is America stupid?"s I've seen post-election.
Other times to avoid: Whenever there's snow, rain, heat, a holiday, when everyone is waking up, when it's 2:00A.M. and everyone's wondering why they're still awake.

Or when you're bored. For the love of pizza, why is "I'm bored, text?" still a thing?
If you want to text someone, grab your phone, and text them!
My goodness.

And while you're bored, how is snapping photos of yourself in the most flattering light going to change that?
Okay. Stahp. I know I've done this so many times. I'm particularly bad when it comes to "what is my hair?" pictures.
It's cool when someone's at the Grand Canyon or somewhere equally exotic and they'd like to share their adventures, but duck facing while you're getting ready for work?
I do that every day while I'm putting on mascara (yes, I put mascara on with my mouth closed). Everybody has a "getting ready to go out" routine. Everyone is equally bored by it.
I won't be surprised when I see teeth-brushing pictures on Facebook. It's gonna happen.

On that note, there are some good Facebookers out there. Inspirational quotes are a fun thing. I've learned a lot about current events from informed Facebook friends.
Oh, and I can see ridiculous chat conversations me and my best friend have:

"THIS BOOK IS A DISASTER

It's more than a disaster

it makes disasters turn away in shame

and tell all their disaster children never to stoop down so low as this book

this book

is what disasters eat for dinner

this book is the pins disasters knock down when they go bowling together

this book

is what disasters wear when it's laundry day

OOH i think i have a poem here!"

"I AM NOT GETTING YOU PUDDING FOR CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!"

So that's a thing.

Namaste.  

These are a few of my Favorite Things--Day 21

Today's prompt is to list some of my favorite posts from my archive. For the sake of not being repetitively redundant, I won't link any from the Blog Every Day in May challenge.

The Manly Razor, The Feminine Chainsaw
This is one of my most adamantly feminist posts. It was one of the clearest moments in which I saw college affecting me--I was surprised to see myself thinking critically in a CVS.

2) I've Got Some Beef With Socrates
This was another one of my more college-y blogs. I like to think analytically while adding some humor in there. I still do disagree with Socrates, though not so angrily.

3) The Ballad of the Semicolon
This is something every student should learn. Just saying.

4) Gym Class Hasn't Changed
This one was by far the most viewed post. But it's so true--in college, the gym is still terrifying, it's still sweaty, and it still smells like feet.

5) The Butterfinger Butterfly
This post originated from my friend Keri (she has a blog too--The 2013 Machine) and I being silly. It still cracks me up to think about it.

Namaste. 

 

Too Old, Too Young

Not only is ashram time wildly different, but ashram age is as well. As far as I know, everyone who works at Shoshoni is at least 18 and is younger than fifty.
Anything more specific than that, don't ask.
Age is a big deal anywhere else. You "keep track" of how your life is going based on age. At 18, you go to college. At 22, you have a nice little freakout about what to do with the rest of your life. At forty, you marry your backup husband if you start getting the urge to buy some cats.

What's strange about the late teen/early twenty years is that you're too young to sit around and be boring, and you're too old to start learning anything new.

Or so says you. And me. So don't feel bad. We can learn this together.

D'awww, it's a bonding moment.

I spoke with a guest at dinner today, and she told me that in fifth grade she convinced herself that she couldn't go on a class ski trip because she was too old to learn how to ski and would look like a fool in front of her experienced peers.

Do you know what I was pro at in fifth grade? Screaming at a keyboard, "I'll never learn how to type on you, NEVER!".

So that's a thing.

Once we've reached a certain age, we believe we should be shameful of beginner status. To say "I don't know" as a child is brave. To say it as an adult will probably make you lose a lot of money.

Apparently at 18, you must know all the things. Perhaps there is some magic mind power in beer. That must explain the freshman craze.

It's especially challenging during the beginning adult stage, because you're still convinced the world is inspecting your every move and that in order to get laid be successful you must be the most impressive being in the world--and that includes knowing how to juggle, balance on your head, and play the guitar on a unicycle.

I actually know someone who can do that last one. Any potential ashram go-ers, you should know that oftentimes you're also signing up to watch a circus.

What we fail to realize, however, is that older adults are continuing to teach themselves things. They've also had twice as long to learn. Serena and Venus didn't pop out throwing tennis balls at each other. There's no shame in being a beginner. If anything, it's admirable to admit that you have more to learn than you do to teach.

Don't get me wrong, working to be an expert in a field is admirable. It's essentially grad school. But sticking to what you know can make the rest of life a bit dull.

Plus, it gives you an excuse to borrow your father's atlatl. Which is what everyone's life goal should be.

Namaste.

I Heard You're Doing Okay, But I Want You to Know...Day 20

"I heard you're doing okay, but I want you to know, I'm adic--I'm addicted to you."

Today's prompt is to "get real" and share something I'm struggling with. How is this different from day 16, I wonder?

Well, I'm struggling with addiction. To Facebook.

I know what you're thinking: "Oh, everyone under the age of a million has this problem. What makes this sob-story any more original?"

I suppose it doesn't. But it's gotten to the point where I write stories in-between Facebook-ing, rather than the other way around.

It's not like there's anything interesting on the site. Sure, I can chat with some friends, but I often prefer to text. I never got into Farmville (all those requests you got from me? That was the prodigal roommate). Remember that "compare people" app? My 15 year old self loved that, until it asked me if I'd rather sleep with my cousin or my brother.

Um. No.

But now, I just get on Facebook to stare at Grammarly updates and stalk take a close interest in people I hadn't seen in years. Oh, I haven't spoken to you since elementary school, and you had a Burrito for lunch? Awesome. So glad I know that.

I will even take photographs just for the sake of posting them on Facebook. Duck face, anyone?

Most of the productivity I need to accomplish is on my computer. In order to write, technically all I need is a blank word doc (or even just a google doc). And yet, I always have to open a new tab and automatically type in facebook. I don't always get bombarded with messages and notifications, but when I do, I forget why I came online in the first place.

And when there are interesting links, oh boy...I'm just glad there's no link to good Netflix shows yet.

The sad thing is, I actually feel accomplished when my status updates or photos get likes. It's as though that little red box on the upper left screen is my life. I become genuinely disappointed when the notification says that someone posted in a group, or commented on a picture that wasn't directed at me.

I don't even know. It's a black hole.

I haven't yet gotten to the point where I use Facebook as a diary (my pet peeve is when people make public updates that are like "you broke my heart; I hate you; I love you"), but I can see the storm approaching. When you want to document your whole life to put on a little screen, that's when you know you have a problem.

Even when I try to branch out to other sites, it gets linked up with my Facebook account (let's see how many times I can write "facebook" in this post, shall we?). I made a Goodreads account with the intention of reading books, and then marking that I'd finished them. Is that what happened? Nope, nope, nope. It popped up on Facebook, and I started staring on the screen, wondering how many likes my Goodreads update would get.

In case you were wondering, it was 0. Popularity, FTW.

I could delete my account. I should delete my account. And yet. I feel naked without this social networking. What if someone invites me to a party (okay, the library)? What if I miss the fact that some high-school chick was out with the girls, and wanted textttttssss?
What if the world explodes, and I miss the memo because I wasn't on Facebook?

You never know.

It won't be much longer until there are serious "facebook anonymous" groups.

Namaste.

Some Excellent Bloggery--Day 19

Today's prompt is to talk about five of my favorite blogs.
And so begins the obsession train.

1) Bryarly Bishop
I linked up to her page when we had to profess our love to a blogger, but this girl deserves a second post. She's witty, real, and makes her life both unique and universal.

2) Just Sayin'
Okay, so this is my best friend's blog, but it's totally worth reading even if you don't know her personally. It's witty, and if you have thoughts about fictional characters' hair, this is the blog to read.

3) Milk and Cookies
I found this blog through the blog every day challenge, but this girl is my bloggery soulmate. She mentions "feeling like an old woman trapped in a 19 year old's body" and that she's been told she's "wise beyond her years." I'm so happy someone understands this.

4) The 2013 Machine
This is another friend's blog--this one focuses more on life updates and fandoms. However, Keri writes in a way that even those that have never met her can relate. She just wrote an interesting post on her thoughts on marriage, which are well thought out and perceptive about society's views on love.

5) All I Know Now
This blog is written by YouTube's famous Carrie Hope Fletcher. While her blog is fairly new, it's well-written and engaging thus far. I'm thinking this in a British accent as I type. If you don't know who Carrie Hope Fletcher is, I highly suggest looking up ItsWayPastMyBedTime on YouTube. This girl's got an awesome voice!

Namaste. 

How to Deal: Home Transitions

When you're in that age range when you're kind of independent, but that waitressing job doesn't quite cover all the bills, it can be difficult to classify what is "home." You might be living in an apartment or dorm during the school year, but over the summer and after graduation, it's getting more and more likely that newly-grads and the like will have to return home. It can start to feel like neither place is really home.

I dealt with my first "where do I live?" freakout when I was sixteen. It was the first time I'd lived in a place that I didn't grow up in, that didn't have a direct correlation to childhood bliss and cookies.

Oh, there were many cookies.

Since then, it's gotten a bit easier to find tricks to feel like I'm not floating from place to place, calling nothing home. I'm not perfect at it, but hey, who said this blog gave advice on how to be perfect?

I believe you'll need Paris Hilton's number for that. Either that or ways to successfully get through the jailbird diet.

1) Find a "regular" public place.
If your transition homes aren't too far away, try to find a restaurant, café or field where you go to do something you enjoy. You can always have the comfort of that place, and you won't be forced to move out of it. Unless you live in New Jersey and get a job in Utah. That would be quite a commute to go sit in a field.

2) Have a weekly dinner/event with family
While this is nice at any point in one's life, it's especially essential during the home transition period. During the college years, it's easy to wonder what the hell you're still doing in your parents' house. You may feel like a nuisance who should be working harder to be independent. But if you and your family make an active effort to socialize, the reason for living at home becomes more than "because I have no money."

3) A change of mindset
What really trips people up is when they graduate from high school or college and they think "well, I'm on my own now. I should probably go get a job, get hitched, and start having babies."
Dude. You're like, 18-22 years old, give or take a few years. That's so young, you could change your mind about what to have for dinner, much less how to spend the rest of your life. Your twenties were invented for the sole purpose of exploring yourself. You can be boring and go to bed at 8P.M. next to your husband who resents you for selling all the power tools when you turn thirty. But trust me--your twenties are not a race against time. Unless you're in grad school. Totally different story here. Half the fun of being young is bumming around and storing up crazy roommate stories.

4) Just because you're where you grew up, doesn't mean you're helpless.
Even if you do have to go back home and goof off on Tumblr figure out your life for a while, that doesn't mean you're subject to your parents' every rule and whim. You can help out financially (maybe not the price of apartment rent), or get your own groceries, or dog-sit while your parents go wild and crazy talk about the good ole' days when Woodstock was a thing.

Little do they know, Burning Man exists. Do they know that? Anyway.

Namaste.

Cat Land--Day 18

Today's prompt is to tell a story about my childhood.
Oh, boy, do I have many.
My older brother and I had wild imaginations in our youth, so we refused to stop at "tag" and video games like normal people. Nope, we had to make up an entire world: cat land.

I really hope this doesn't say something about my future.

I had an expansive collection of stuffed cats; it all started when I got my stuffed cat "Silk" (named after my godmother's 22 year old cat who had just passed away. I later found that I wrote a poem for this cat which included the line "you were 22. That's my bus number"). My brother arranged my cats into family trees, and on top of that we invented a language.

Well, it was really just baby talk, but we were rather pleased with ourselves.

"I want food" would be "me wamph food." "Jump" somehow turned into "Bupeee."

Let's not ask questions here.

We also divided our cats into a political party, vengeful against the dog party. We'd gather the stuffed cats and dogs to engage in a presidential debate a couple times a year--this somehow got combined with Olympic sports, which helped determined who would win the presidential election.

I know, I know. It gets weirder.

Because we were little kids, we were tickled by "poop" jokes (don't say you weren't as a child). Hence, (oh my god I can't believe I'm posting this on the internet), we coined Cat Land's "Santa Claus" as "Cata Fart." And every year, the cats would try to break into Cata Fart's secret laboratory and figure out what he was making the cats for Christmas.

You'd think they would get bored of trying to break in because the presents were always solid gold.

We actually wrote out these plans and made a folder entitled "Christmas secret break in plans." I wonder if our parents were a little concerned.

I know I would be.

Namaste.

I was also obsessed with dress up clothes...I practically never took off this dress

Losing Your Mind: The Meditative Skeptic

I've been at Shoshoni for about a week and a half now. I've swept (I'm now an awesome sweeper). I've vacuumed. I've sat in a temple and thought about cheese meditated.
I've come to some conclusions: Miso ghee is awesome. Tight rope walking is hard. There are parts of everything you should be skeptical about. Also, the mind is a cool thing.

Once upon a time there was a young blond from the East Coast. She had this dream that one day she would change drastically and be such a skilled socializer that she would fit in...once she moved to an ashram and let go of all anxious thoughts and wore a bunch of hippie clothes.

Once upon a time there was a young black-haired woman who voyaged to the West Coast. She had a dream that 1) Aliens ate her and once she woke up she dreamed that she would fit in...once she moved back to the East Coast and could drink buckets of coffee and shop with her friends and have lazy F.R.I.E.N.D.S. marathons.

Sure, there are the lucky few who don't fit in, and then BAM they join cross country or something that will make your abs look equally good and they're all "I'm home."

You lucky bastard, you.

But hey, we're not going to go all "woe is me" here. Okay, look, we're gonna be a little "woe is me." I've only got two more months of being a teenager (eek!). I'm gonna revel in it. 

Last semester, I had an amazing literary theory teacher. She was passionate about what she taught. She always read with a pen in hand. She was enthusiastic about every theory. She also admitted that through each literary lens, you were missing something.

This isn't just shit English majors say. We all want to find some fun-sized catch phrase that expresses the meaning of life. The closest I've gotten to that is "life is hard, but life is harder when you're dumb."
Working on the self is great. Opening some Chakras never hurt anyone (actually I've been told it's quite painful, but let's pretend that never happened). But if you focus only on the self, you're going to miss some relationships. If you focus on pleasing that hot guy with the surfboard, you're going to miss some understanding about yourself.

People tend to gravitate towards one thing; you don't want to be too over the place. I used to think (okay, it was yesterday) that I couldn't stay focused on one thing for years and years because I didn't want to work hard. Was I gaffawing at meditation just because it was challenging?
Yes and no. Meditation is hard. It's a good practice to get better at. There are some very useful mind-calming tools that help when life throws some giant volleyballs at your head (yay middle school). But does that mean you should meditate "all day erryday"?
Try it for a day and let your hips get back to me.

The phrase "have you lost your mind?" exists for a reason. The mind can be a beautiful place. Logic is fun (although Sudoku is not). Letting go and analyzing don't have to contradict each other. Much. Being too much of anything is kind of a buzz kill.

It's best not to blindly follow one thing. There is always something positive in one's skeptical nature.

Everything is best in moderation. Even moderation.

Namaste.

Picturesque Childhood--Day 17

Today's prompt is to post a favorite photo of myself and explain why I like it. Being fairly self-indulgent, I was thrilled to hop onto facebook and scroll the photos with the best lighting, angles and makeup. But in the long run, memory won over vanity, as memories tend to do. As a blogger rebel, I'm posting two favorite photos because I can, so ha, internet-verse!

I was around ten years old here, with my elementary school friend Pierie. Our friend Juliet always held the coolest, most extravagant birthday parties. We'd dress up, partake in scavanger hunts, and stuff ourselves with chocolate oranges (remember those things?) These birthdays--this house even--inspired creativity. We'd create these wild performances that probably could only amuse a fifth grader. I remember feeling really free during this time--not really caring what anyone thought. It was delightful.

Yep, I'm the doofus on the right

This photo was taken during senior prom. I was my friend Keri's "date," so while all the couples took coupl-y photos, Keri and I decided to make faces at the camera. About three seconds before the camera went off, Keri yelled out "duck face!" I've seen enough obnoxious facebook photos to know what duck face is, but it didn't register in my mind at the time. I instantly went into "fish face," which would probably insult ducks worldwide, 'cause, y'know, they eat fish. I was comparing them to their lunch. Keri went into "looking tough" mode, which has much more resemblance to ducks.
This photo is basically the epitome of our friendship. I instantly burst out laughing, and while I'm missing one of my besties who moved to Georgia, this photo helps ease the loss a little bit (that makes it sound like she's dead. She's not). I can actually remember cracking up so hard our cheeks got red after taking this photo.

I've got a million other favorites, but that's for another time. Maybe this should be a semi-photography blog?

Namaste.

Guys, It's a Serious Post--Day 16

Today's prompt is to talk about something difficult about my "lot in life." I already talked about the need to be liked, so I thought I'd talk about something that's relevant to a lot of young girls.

Anorexia.

Whew, boy, this is a heavy topic. No pun intended.

I've been fully recovered for five years. At age twelve (just as middle school started--shock!), I lost 16 pounds in a month, and dwindled down to 85 pounds.

My parents luckily interfered before I turned skeletal and had to go to the hospital. But y'know, not having a pulse...that's a thing. A rather not good thing.

A lot of misconceptions about anorexia is that re-nourishing the body is the ultimate goal to "cure" anorexia. While that's the first step, the body is actually the easiest thing to repair. Although you have to get a LOT of blood drawn. Ew.

It's really the mind that is the hardest to overcome. I had to spend years going to psychologists and nutritionists in order to understand what a healthy relationship with my body and with food was. Force feeding only works for a tiny portion of recovery. But in order to truly recover, you have to ultimately be in charge of your own eating/exercise decisions.

I adore food. I've been a foodie since I was two and had my first taste of chocolate (a peppermint patty, mmmm). But even now, I have a love/hate relationship with food, even though I do tend to go overboard in the dessert arena.

I used to feel like every time I ate something delicious, or had two helpings, I'd have to punish myself by exercising it off. This works pretty well with yoga (if you go slowly). Running on a treadmill after a milkshake? Not so much. That involves writhing on a bed for two hours and having your roommate look at you funny.

It's not fun to be driven by calculations--to have to stick to the same food routine and to exercise for exactly ninety minutes a day. Fortunately, I enjoyed dance--it was enough to keep me feeling healthy, but to not move around for the sake of burning calories.

I know it's not the case for every recovered anorexic, but I've dealt with a lot of weight fluctuations. Not exactly the healthiest way to go about things. I prefer not to weigh myself now (it's not a pretty scene when I go to the Doctor's office, and they're all, "you weigh 140 some pounds" and I'm all "whaaaat?"). I'm still trying to figure out the steady middle ground. I've either been too thin or on the over-indulgent side. It's like Goldilocks and the three bears. I'm on the search for the size that's juuuuuuuust right.

What's nice about yoga and meditation (you knew there would be a yoga side to this, didn't you? Maybe I should include the fact that coffee burns calories too?), is that yoga keeps the body feeling strong and free, but it's a practice that focuses on the breath, which draws out internal focus. We stay in tune with what our body needs, how it's feeling. It's perfect in conjunction with meditation--detaching the mind from our anxieties is perfect for, well, everyone, but particularly someone in a similar situation.

There was actually a news story about a young woman who struggled with anorexia, and yoga was a major factor in curing her disease:

 It's a battle, but the joy of food definitely overpowers fearful living.

Made and eaten by yours truly, with help from MC

Yoga has helped tremendously

Namaste.

A Day in the Life, Yoga Version--Day 15

This is hardly a normal day for me, but seeing as it's Summer, my "normal" routine consists of sleep, reading, writing, eating, and working.
Not all that exciting.
So we're gonna go with yoga version of my typical day. Feel free to chant "Om namah Shivaya" along with me.
Except don't--I'm too enraptured by facebook at the moment. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you champion of letting go!
....

So. I wake up dark and early at five A.M. I stumble around the bathroom for a bit, and end up looking high, since my eyes get so red from trying to stab them with contacts pre-coffee. It doesn't take me too long to get ready since all I do is dress in temple clothes (a long skirt and blouse of some sort) and twist my hair into braids. I normally use this time to post my blog of the day and wonder where the hell I am.
Ohh, that's right. An Ashram. What is my life?

At 5:30 we all gather at the main temple, which looks like this:

We start off with a prayer for our living teacher Sri Shambhavananda. We repeat "om shanti shanti shanti" as well as "om vakratundaya hum" 108 times. Two of my favorite chants are:

Namo Namaste Guru Maharaj
Shambhavananda Jaya Jaya Maharaj
Tav Charananshrit Gurudeva
Maduram Maduram Gurudeva

and

Shambhavananda Gurave
Shishya Samsara Harine
Bhakta Karyaika Deyaaya
Shambhavananda Namam Yam

We then chant the entire Guru Gita (sans water--yikes) which sounds like this:

After going through an arati practice in which we dance at the back of the temple and make offerings to the deities, we sit in silent meditation for half an hour. What could be easier than sitting and thinking nothing for 30 minutes?
A lot of things. Eating tar. Lifting 100 pound weights. Running a marathon.
I'm still getting the hang of it.

7:00 is breakfast. Shoshoni is famous for its exquisite food, and breakfast never ceases to disappoint. We usually have kitchree or oatmeal, a grain of some sort, fruit and yogurt. And coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.

Kitcharee!

After breakfast, I have the mornings free. Usually I use this time to catch up on emails/blogs, but I also try to write in my journal and read some Game of Thrones. It's not my genre of choice, but it's pretty interesting so far. This is also a good time to go hiking and breathe so hard, all of Shoshoni can hear you.

The view makes it worth it :)

At 10:00, we have our first yoga class. The first half hour is pranayama--or breathing techniques. The most popular breathing technique we've done thus far is "nadi sadhoma" or "alternate nostril breathing." It looks something like:

At 10:30, we then move into the asana (or physical) portion of yoga. Shoshoni yoga teachers still focus on the breath throughout practice, but we do also go through some sun salutations and hip-openers.
There is nothing better than a good hip opener.

Half moon pose!

After yoga, we go to lunch in the lodge. There's normally soup, salad, and various delicious items. Lunch is the longest meal of the day, and if it's nice out, we'll play with the hula hoops, slack lines and unicycles outside.

It generally takes about an hour to clean up. We rotate jobs, but I've mainly been in the dining room, wiping tables, sweeping floors

Warrior II Pose

and putting plates away. Conquering the dishes is a good feeling, but when time becomes a pressing issue, it's no longer so nice.

At 1:30 or 2:00, we transition into "seva" which means "selfless service." I'm the official afternoon lodge cleaner--my jobs range from (re)sweeping floors, dusting, folding and putting laundry away (which I discovered I adore) and keeping the fires going. We use this time to focus on mantra (which is a repetition of sanskrit words) to keep the mind focused on the present moment. Another technique the staff may use is breath work.

4:30 is afternoon yoga. On the weekends, there are two options offered: a flow class or a restorative class. This is optional for work-study and immersion students, so it depends on if I really worked myself during seva.

5:30 is dinner. There's certainly no shortage of food around here.

After cleanup, we go to temple for meditation. The sort of meditation varies throughout the week: Mondays and Thursdays we have "Satsang" where we do an online chat with Babajii (the Guru). This time is available to staff to ask questions about spirituality and enlightenment.
Tuesdays are the Medicine Buddha; Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays we do "kirtan" which is a singing chant/offerings to deities. Sundays are an entire hour of meditation.

The Ma Shrine--where one worships female deities

Around 8:00, we all start getting ready for bed. Yup, we're cool like that.
It's an intensive day, but a good kind of exhaustion. Having a structured schedule really allows you to focus the mind and feel the breath.
Plus, someone makes dessert for you twice a week. Not bad.

Every staff member at Shoshoni gets one day off per week--I frolic around Boulder on Mondays. Typically days off are used to catch up on laundry, go explore Boulder and Denver, and dance around in one's underwear.

Guys, I'm kidding about that last part. That's not ashram appropriate. You should dance around in your bathing suit instead.

Hangin' out with a Boulder frog :)

A beautiful Shoshoni sunset :)

Namaste.