Yoga – or the Lack Thereof


Last year I had determined to take up yoga seriously after realizing I had exercise-induced asthma. Discovered that golden nugget while taking kickboxing classes. I loved it and the strength I gained…until I couldn’t breathe after a short jog. Week by week, it progressively got worse, so that every time my heartrate increased, my body would overheat and my throat closed up. I opted to get out of kickboxing, at least for the time being.

I did a little YouTube research. There weren’t many yoga studios close to home, and the ones that were did not fit into my busy schedule. But YouTube is a plethora (apparently plethora is my word of the month) of free information. I came across a Yogi who called herself YogiNora. She has hour long videos of her yoga regiment and a few broken-down classes, and if you want to be amazed, you can watch her full workout. Can you say “flexible”? I fell in love with her because–obviously–she knows what she’s doing. She practices up to five hours a day and also teaches yoga classes. She’s pretty legit.

I started out really strong. I practiced five times a week and had worked myself up to an hour. I felt amazing! I was stronger, more flexible, calmer, more positive, but then I petered out. Typical of me. I continued on and off all year. It’s frustrating how swiftly you lose everything you had built up. That’s what gets me. You work and work and sweat and put the time in, and in a month, it fades. So frustrating.

Anyway, I’ve been trying to practice more. It truly helps, and even if I only do 20 minutes at a time, I notice the difference. Yesterday, I was feeling really good and did a whole hour.


I think I pulled….every muscle….in my body. So today I’m paying for it. I’m going to lie low for a few days, then work myself up from 20 minutes again. But if you’re looking for a relaxing, steady workout without cardio, check out YogiNora. She’s amazing.


Something From Home


For as long as I can remember, Mother canned sweet and sour beets. Beets are a purplish red tuber which grow just beneath the soil. On their own, they are tough and woody to chew with a bland, but faintly sweet flavor. When we lived in the city, I remember the neighbor girl thought we were absolutely crazy for enjoying this simple delight–we ate them like candy! Years after we moved into the country, Momma still canned beets, and we would occasionally open a jar over dinner.

But she gave it up as we grew older. The process of canning became too much of a chore for a housewife raising five kids and working on computer software from home. I hardly gave another thought to these treats. It was something that faded into the past. Then, one day, a friend introduce me to this lovely all-natural, organic-based cafe and market.

On the rack of canned goods, I found my old love.

Cracking open the sealed lid, an aroma of familiar spices wafted toward me. I breathed them in; the almost fruity, earthen smell of the beets, the sharpness of the spice and vinegar, and that sweet and tangy juice. It tasted just like Mother made, and it felt like home.

Recall a favorite food passion you discovered after leaving home. What did you feel? Write about it in the comments. Try to be descriptive.


Happy Valentines Day


I work retail part time. I refuse to be a “starving artist”, and I’ll work as many jobs as needed to live comfortably. So I picked up retail work last summer and, let me tell you, it is miserable. I have never before met so many ornery, impatient, ungrateful, and disgraceful human beings in my life. The sweet customers can’t even make up for it. This job is straining my ability to emulate Christ’s grace *sigh*. The holidays are considerably worse, because people are messy, in a hurry, stressed out, and trying to scam you for every penny they can get. Valentine’s day was no different.

I have been single for every Valentines day of my short existence. You think you’d get used to it, but somehow seeing lovely couples on TV and in every advertisement just eats at you. Yet another reminder I’m not eating the cake everyone else is enjoying (or not. I mean, let’s face it, relationships are hard). But I was feeling pity for myself–not gonna lie.

Saturday night, while I’m minding my own business stocking shelves, a young man approaches me. He hands me a rose and says,

“Happy Valentine’s day.”

After I stammer a confused and awkward thank you, he leaves. That’s it. No exchange of telephone numbers, no requests. That’s it.

But he left me feeling pleased indeed. You see, I’ve never had a secret admirer. I guess there’s a first for everything.

Happy belated Valentines, everyone.


Has This Happened to You?

Déjà vu. All of a sudden, you’re reliving a moment in your life as if it was your second go around. Everything feels extremely familiar.

This just happened with a blogger I follow; although the bizarre thing is, I didn’t realize it until after I had posted a comment and began reading through the other responses. In fact, it was such a strong moment of clarity, I had to check myself to make sure I was still living in the present day. Post-Valentines 2015? Yep, still here.

It was a few months ago that I had read this article. I remember my reaction had not been as strong as it was this second time. But when I had attempted to sputter up a comment, my mobile device was acting finicky. In the end, I gave up–since, obviously, it wasn’t that inspirational. But today I unknowingly read the same article, and today something struck a cord. I commented immediately and posted it without a second thought. Then, as I scrolled up through the other reactions, it hit me–déjà vu. One of the comments I remembered reading the last time. Huh.

If this were a science fiction story, then I had just been granted the chance to change one seemingly infinitesimal moment in my life. In those stories, it’s always the little events that make the big change. In light of that, I feel pretty good about my choice. But I wonder now…what had happened in that alternate reality to trigger a jump back to the past?