Keeping it Simple

I haven't written anything in a long time and this morning I read an article on the Huffington Post that was simple and to the point and I thought I would get back into things by posting it.

Losing Weight: What They Won't Tell You On TV

by Tara Stiles
The question most people ask me on YouTube and in person is "What should I eat to be skinny?" It is the main thing on America's mind, or at least the media seems to want it to be. Between images of Americas Biggest Loser glaring at us from our TV's, constant updates about eating disorders, weight gains and losses of all our favorite celebrities, and the surge of "diets" including Dr. Atkins' coronary artery disease, heart attack and death, we're suffocated so much that it makes us want to gorge on Doritos and Ben and Jerry's while we stare at the boob toob in horror at famous people's cellulite!

That is one of the reasons why I unplugged my cable TV for a year to detox. There is no escape from our obsession with weight though. I had zero to contribute to any conversation about reality TV and I had no idea who Brittany was dating for an entire year, but I could tell you all about her weight gain because pasted on every newsstand were those images of her clutching a liter of Mountain Dew and a bag of McDonalds with the grease stain leaking through. I also kept up on Angelina's troubling weight loss because of "exhaustion" and I saw most of the traumatic pictures of Nicole Richie's lollipop head barely balancing atop her tiny skeletal frame.

Recently I leaped back into the game and reunited with the cable company. It was only to watch the Olympics of course, but I couldn't escape the commercials for heart attack pills, new exercise systems, McDonald's new salad choices, and low-calorie hot pockets.

So my thing is yoga. I've been practicing since I was a teenager with a bunch of master teachers, and teaching for a few years myself now because I feel there is a big gap between the people that already practice yoga, and everyone else. I grew up in the Midwest where a lot of people think yoga is an exclusive club for the spiritually elite (or just plain weird). I think Yoga should be for everyone, not just the folks who change their name to something Hindu.

They won't tell you this on TV or in the magazines, because it's not selling much besides a healthy lifestyle (no special meals delivered to your door, no fancy exercise machines). It's the hidden secret to the last diet and health plan you'll ever need. It doesn't come in a bottle and you don't even have to go on a payment plan.

When you practice yoga regularly you get more then you will from jogging on the treadmill catching up on the last season of Lost. When you practice yoga you use your body and your mind, and you're gaining awareness and intuition. Not by thinking really hard "I'm gaining awareness and intuition," but because it just works that way. And when you have more in that department, you make better choices. You'll notice things slightly shifting, from the awareness that you have when you wake up in the morning, to how you walk around and get your work done during the day, to the choices you make for dinner. There's nothing mystical about the new insights you're gaining; it just happens. You'll start to feel happier and healthier, more grounded, stronger, flexible, in your body and in how you feel psychologically. Little moments of clarity start coming more frequently. Sounds are richer, food even tastes better.

Your body is smart. It doesn't want to be filled with crap all the time. It will let you know what it needs and you won't have to follow diets. You'll start to see where you may have been psychologically hungry or craving or tired, when your body may have been just fine and ready to do its job for you. Your awareness and intuition have been with you all along, they just may have needed some dusting off. As long as you are listening to your body's needs, and being clear about your psychological needs, you should be able to figure it out with a little practice.

In the meantime here is my short list.

High-fructose corn syrup: Bad. Don't eat it. Read labels carefully, it's in a lot of products. High-fructose corn syrup is the last thing to leave your body so go ahead and add it as fat. If you are hiking for miles and your body is totally out of fuel it just may start to eat away on its storage of high-fructose corn syrup if you're lucky. Best bet is to stay away. Find products that use natural unprocessed (or at least less processed) sweeteners like cane juice or raw organic sugar.

Greens: Good. Green things are good for your body. Find organic greens and you're all set for your salad. Squeeze a little lemon, add a few walnuts and an avocado and you've got a great meal.

Long ingredient lists: Bad. Read labels in your favorite products. Look for short lists of simple, less-processed ingredients with names you recognize as food. If you find some of the same ingredients in your cereal as your shampoo maybe it's time to switch to something simpler.

Water: Good. It's hard to believe that qater is still underrated. It arrives out of our taps (get a filter if you want), and is free for now . . . although I am anxiously anticipating Irena Salina's new award winning documentary Flow to see how that may change. Drink water. Drink it often. Carry it with you. Drink it all day. Have it by your bed to take care of midnight thirst.

Bozo the Clown, dies at 83

Larry Harmon, longtime Bozo the Clown, dead at 83

My condolences to Mr Harmon's family and friends, I'm sure it was a great loss.
Someone who was able to maintain this type of persona for all these years has certainly perfected an art.

I always found the name "Bozo" amusing, but I know I'm not the only one that finds the actual clowns themselves a bit terrifying. My kids are not amused by them. So what is it about their big fake painted smile, blood shot eyes and pancake makeup that would make anyone laugh?

Here are some quotes from the article that was written by JOHN ROGERS of the Associate Press, in it he quotes Harmon saying:

"Bozo is a combination of the wonderful wisdom of the adult and the childlike ways in all of us," Harmon told The Associated Press in a 1996 interview.

"I'm looking for that sparkle in the eyes, that emotion, feeling, directness, warmth. That is so important," he said of his criteria for becoming a Bozo."

"Bozo is a star, an entertainer, bigger than life," Harmon once said. "People see him as Mr. Bozo, somebody you can relate to, touch and laugh with."

I never really understood the attraction to clowns. I happen to considered it a bit tragic to have a permanent smile painted on a fully feeling adult. Children are very perceptive and it seems to imply that this "being" has only one singular feeling, doesn't that seem odd, a deception? I can't help thinking it all seems a bit deranged.

A Toast To Hillary

I don’t see myself as someone who is easily moved to tears, especially in matters concerning politics. I have been an avid follower of this presidential race from the beginning, I have been watching, listening and reading all about the candidates the last 16 months. I started out with the idea of supporting Hillary and then early on, as I was exposed to the other candidates, I became intrigued by the number of democrats I thought had valid and worthy things to say about our country. I decided to hold off deciding to choose until after I had gotten to know them and their policies a bit better. It became clearer that there were a few in the bunch, besides Clinton, ie; Kucinich, Obama, Edwards, and Biden, etc…that had some interesting ideas.

What use to be a lean steady diet of Jon Stewart and Bill Maher had now become a veritable smorgasbord with the likes of Chris Matthews, Keith Olbermann, Chuck Todd, Tim Russert, Maureen Dowd, Arianna Huffington (just to name a few) invading my home at all hours of the day and night.
Armed with information, I chose to support Barack Obama. I felt intuitively that he was the change that our country needed and that he was someone who, through it all, displayed great confidence and integrity, even the way he would say “we” and “our” as opposed to “I” and “my”, it always seemed like he was more connected to the rest of us. For these, and other reasons, I chose to support Barack Obama over all the other candidates. I watched as it came down to just the two of them: Barack and Hillary. I watched as the endorsements unfolded, the delegates were counted (and recounted) and the mud was slung. I watched as she and her campaign lied, exaggerated and insisted that they were winning even when the numbers never added up. I watched as the Democratic Party became more divided and looked as if it was becoming fractured beyond repair. I began to lose all respect for her and her campaign managers. Until finally last Tuesday night arrived and it happened, right after Montana’s numbers were in: Barack Obama was named the presumptive nominee. Now, I thought, if only Hillary would just accept this reality and help the party reunite.
After what seemed an eternity, yesterday afternoon Hillary Clinton endorsed Barack Obama for President. An event I had been waiting to see happen for what seemed like years, all the while anticipating a feeling of victory and great satisfaction.
As she approached the podium, my partner and I sat on the sofa, celebratory drinks in hand, we turned up the volume on the TV with rapt attention… that’s when it happened… as I watched her approach the mike with her mother, husband, and daughter in tow I began to cry, I couldn’t contain my tears, I just wept. I was extremely moved. It wasn’t the words she used or how she delivered it, they weren’t tears of happiness that Barack had won, or a great relief that finally this part of it was over. No, there was something more basic about it, the human element, the frailty of it, the realness of what was happening in that very moment and how big it all really was, the awesome reality of what she had tried to do, the work she had put into it, it all struck me in that instance and my tears continued to flow throughout the speech, I felt like I was seeing her for the first time: real, humble, an American, a person, a woman.

All We Know Of Love

Emily Dickinson once wrote, “All we know of Love, is Love is all there is”

Today Love is on my mind, specifically the difference between Real Love and all the rest.
As the fifth child of six, I often struggled to get “my share” of the love, but what I never understood was that my share could not be gotten.
I looked to get, what I thought then was love, by giving, doing and being what others wanted me to be. At a very young age, before I was even five, I became an excellent listener with a sympathetic ear; I learned how to clean the kitchen and bathroom (the jobs nobody else wanted) until they shined. For a time I remember singing a Shirley Temple song to my mother before I went to bed at night because it made her smile. I derived great pleasure from making my parents breakfast in bed and when I was old enough I even made muffins for my mother’s friends who came to visit. I remember a friend of my mother’s once complaining about stains in her toilet and my mother telling her to ask me what I used to get the toilets so clean, (I also remember feeling embarrassed by this). I remember routinely scratching my older brother’s back, and drinking wine I didn’t like, just to make my Sicilian Grandmother happy. I recall doing these things and many more, all to get what I thought was love.
During these years I received many substitutes for love; there was some brief recognition, occasional praise and appreciation. The special perks were temporary companionship, smiles and laughs, but all too often I was just simply overlooked. The message seemed clear to me: Love must be earned.

Predictably, I grew up believing that love is something that is earned through deeds and the self-imposed contortions of my very being. I honestly believed that in order to be loved I had to be and do what others wanted. Over time I came to the very painful and profound realization that I had abandoned myself and denied large parts of who I really was in order to be loved. As I evolved and grew to understand the truth about love, I was often struck by the clear and heartbreaking fact that many of my family members were much happier having me in their lives on those prior terms.

Today, many years and some confusing, frustrating and ungratifying relationships later, I have finally come to the painful yet magnificent realization: that love can only be given and received free of charge. If who I am is insufficient for another to love me then no matter what I may do, regardless of whether or not it is at great expense to my soul, I will never attain what is simply unattainable through deeds…Real Love.

After I had my children I realized so vividly how my love for them was contingent upon nothing. I knew that nothing they could do could affect the love I had for them. I’ll never forget the look on my son’s face when I explained to him that even though there may be times when I don’t like what he does, I never stop loving him, even for a moment, at this realization he beamed with delight. For myself, now armed with a broader understanding of love, this marked a very significant moment in my life.

Today I still occasionally grapple with the demons of my past, the guilt for not doing something someone else thinks I should, the missed birthdays and holidays we are overtly or covertly summoned to acknowledge… only to once again be reminded that real love is not about the obligatory rules set by those who don’t understand that love is not a thing that can be quantified by deeds or words. It cannot be served up to relatives or old friends just because they require it to be. Love is simply there, sitting quietly, serenely flowing freely without strings and demands. The only thing one can do with their love is to feel it and be, just be.

Pitch In and Get Some

On March 6, 2008 I read an article on the Huffington Post entitled “Housework Gets You Laid” by David Crary. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/03/06/housework-gets-you-laid_n_90213.html

In it he writes:

American men still don't pull their weight when it comes to housework and child care, but collectively they're not the slackers they used to be. The average dad has gradually been getting better about picking himself up off the sofa and pitching in, according to a new report in which a psychologist suggests the payoff for doing more chores could be more sex.

If a guy does housework, it looks to the woman like he really cares about her _ he's not treating her like a servant," said Coleman, who is affiliated with the Council on Contemporary Families. "And if a woman feels stressed out because the house is a mess and the guy's sitting on the couch while she's vacuuming, that's not going to put her in the mood."

Pamela Smock, a University of Michigan sociologist who also works with the council, said a persistent gender gap remains for what she called "invisible" household work _ scheduling children's medical appointments, buying the gifts they take to birthday parties, arranging holiday gatherings, for example.

I’ve been contemplating this whole concept for quite some time now, and I’ve come to the conclusion that there is actually some very real truth to this statement.
I can’t tell you how many times I have commiserated with family and numerous friends around this very subject, specifically about MEN doing housework .
I have heard everything from “ He does the laundry but then it just sits in the basket until it’s so wrinkled you can’t possibly wear it.” Or “ He never washes the dishes or empties the dishwasher, he has never given the kids baths, or changed the sheets…” The list goes on and on…many women feel worn down and resentful about the lack of partnership in these areas. So resentful in fact, that it can’t help but have a big effect on their sex drives.

I must admit, it certainly is a huge drag and yes, a turn off, to arrive home after being out, whether from work, errands, appointments etc. and find that the sink is filled with dirty dishes so you can’t even start to cook dinner; or something smells in the garbage and has now permeated the entire house because it wasn’t taken out; or when you go to fill the dishwasher it’s full but hasn’t been run; or your clothes, that were in the dryer, are now wrinkled to the point of being unrecognizable; or you find out that you’re having guests at the last minute and you have to decide between showering or cleaning up because there’s not enough time for both. These are just a few of the complaints I have heard from (mostly women and gay male friends) about what bothers them about their mates. I feel I can safely say that not having the help one would like to have maintaining a home, does in fact greatly diminish the desire for sex.

And why wouldn’t it? Can you really say that having to clean up after people is a turn on? I mean really…who wants to slide into a bed full of crumbs, or slip into something wrinkled, or have to wash out a glass (if you can get to the faucet over the dirty dishes) every time you go to pour yourself a drink? Who likes to smell something rotting every time you open the fridge or realize you have no dry towels as you’re stepping out of the shower? Last time I checked, none of these things were considered to be aphrodisiacs.

Look, even if you are lucky enough to be able to afford a cleaning person on a regular basis, which most of my friends are not, you still have a great deal of maintenance: as in: daily dishwashing, laundry, garbage removal, making beds, sorting junk mail, recycling…and if you’re one of us that are blessed with children, triple that.

Who has the energy to come home from work, cook, get organized, clean up after everybody and then have a rollicking good time in the hay? I have yet to meet a couple that feel like they are equals in this area.
I knew things were serious when my girlfriend, who was always energetic and sexually vibrant, was teaching me how to give a “lazy man’s” blowjob, she said “It’s really good, just put your head on a pillow at the right height and let him do the work…” I later thought… things must be bad…but mainly because, for a moment, I was actually considering it!
I once lived with a man who said to me, “I don’t clean, I don’t like to clean and I’m not good at it.” Later I thought...who the hell likes to clean and what would happen if I took the same stand? A girlfriend of mine once gave the advice to “just don’t do it and eventually he will be compelled to”. I can tell you this, it eventually came down to these choices: living in squalor or doing it myself, being resentful but having a clean house, I chose the latter. Today we are no longer together.
I’m not sure if this is a coincidence or not, but today I am living with a man who cleans, cooks and shares in all the household chores and sex (for both of us) has never been better!
If you men really want more sex, why not try it, start by asking what you can do to pitch in around the house…things may start to change, you’ll never know unless you try.

Great comment on "Writings on Art..."

Christine said...
I love the last line of your post because it says it all.
"But most often I think it is because we have been discouraged into thinking what we feel about the sky is not important."
In my life I have seen this be the main reason that many creative people are reluctant to express themselves. It is a sad thing to see but I know a little boy close to four years old who has started to change in his behavior for the worst. He's gone from being carefree and expressive to suddenly very aware of the people around him and their opinions of his playful actions. Instead of doing things for the pure joy of it his expressiveness has started to be inhibited by his need to please.

"Imagination is the Divine Body in Every Man"
-William Blake