I went to my first hard yoga class in the new year.  Like it was, hard.  It’s been so long since I’ve gone to a really challenging yoga class, it was like getting doused with cold water.  But it was good.  My mind achieved quiet because it was too busy focusing on not collapsing into the millionth (slight exaggeration here) chaturanga.  And it felt good to M O V E.  My body is slow and sluggish.  It remembers the movements and the poses, it just needs time to achieve less effort.  Days later, my body is still on fire.  But it feels good and I can’t wait to go back.

Work paralleled these physical challenges.  I came in from my days off to be told that they were doing away with my position and they were not sure when that would be.  One of my supervisors had taken another job, they encouraged me to apply for it, and if I did not get it they would find another position for me to do.  Ouch.  There aren’t very many departments there, so it’s a mystery to me what other position that would be.

There are many pros and cons behind this decision.  If I was offered the job I would also absorb my current duties which would make for a very stressful work load.  It would greatly advance my career.  It was a great opportunity.  On the flip side I had just take H out of childcare, this would mean putting him back in 3 days a week.  I would spend WAY less time with him.  And I would have to put my yogic longings on an indefinite hold.   My mind buzzed for a couple of days.  Staff came in and out of our office, gossiping and plotting. Normal work was hard to focus on.

Circumstances and life spin me out of control, based on how firm a grip I have on that control.  As the dust settled I realized that I was silly for getting riled up.  Wasn’t I planning on giving my notice as soon as teacher training was set in stone?  I have the finances to sustain us job or no job.  This spin may have just been meant to be.  Perhaps it is the final kick in my behind out the door.  One past yoga teacher used to say to never get too attached to one pose and to try not to hate any poses.  I see the wisdom in this on and off the mat.

I meant to make a pros and cons list about applying for the job.  Then I thought of the biggest con, not spending enough time with my son.  For me this was the only factor, the con that would outweigh any pro.  I’m not sure how or when I will tell my supervisors, but I’m sure it will work itself out.

I love Escape to Yoga in Sherwood so much.  I asked the lovely owner, Annette if I could take some pictures of the space, and she graciously agreed.  Interspersed below are some outdoor images that reminded me of that awesome tree mural.  My favorite spot in the room to practice yoga is right next to the tree so I can look at it when we do twists.












Ballet rail!



The space is 1,700 square feet which is nice, many people can fit into a class.  It was formerly a ballet studio and was built in 1916.  Read more about it here.  There are many different levels of classes to choose from and there are great specials.

Lastly, on an unrelated note, the coolest thing happened to me during work in the midst of all of the hoopla.  Our support is outsourced to India.  They are a nice, succinct, orderly bunch.  They don’t make small talk though, why would they?  At the end of this lady helping me to re-install my printer to my computer, she asked me what my hobbies were.  “Yoga”, I replied.  She said, “I like to dance.  Hip-hop and some Indian pop music.  Would you like to know some names of some artists?”

It was such a pleasant, human interaction in the midst of such drama, I was taken aback.  With all of the strife in the world right now, the bombings, the shootings, the injustices, it was so refreshing to have a human reach out to me across so much space and such vast cultural differences.  We are really one, I guess if we could just realize that.


I typed up a whole post about angst at work and then deleted it.  It was so viable when I was working on it, I felt so justified, so right.  Perhaps that was all that was needed to purge it, to write it out, I don’t know.

I’m reading Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn and one of the main character’s describes herself in one moment as taking a vacation from her harpy brain.  Me too sister, me too.  It’s too typical of me, to get my feelings hurt at work and then bullet point all of the excuses/reasons why everyone else is out to get me.  I grinned as I wrote that last sentence because I don’t cringe as much as I used to when I out my defects to myself.  But they’re still there…those defects.  And everyone else’s too.  3D and right in my face.

In yoga last week as I twisted (teacher likes a lot of twists right now), and turned, and breathed that inner voice whispered some stuff to me.  One was, “It’s not your fight.”  The other, “Let it go.”  Easy enough, simple enough, except for me it’s just not.  I want to fix stuff.  I want to prove how I may have been wrong 10% but surely everyone else is 90% to blame.  At what point do I drop the rock, all of my rocks?  At what point do I change tactics.  No more Liz, way more higher power?  At the breaking point?  At the last second?  At rock bottom?  Yeah, I guess.

I talked smack about another girl.  She brought me some food.  Grace.  I do everything wrong.  I go to bed and the next day I wake up and realize I have the chance to do everything right.  Grace.  I see things differently.  Grace.  I get annoyed.  I realize how silly I’m being.  Grace.  Grace, grace, grace, grace.  More grace.  Heaps of grace.  So much grace that I don’t need to do anything.  Just receive it.  If I can.  If I’m willing.

Here’s a story:  Early into my sobriety I just hung out with this woman once.  For some reason she gave/loaned me this really cool little vintage book from 1946 called, Stools and Bottles.  I never saw that girl again and had no way of contacting her.  The book is full of wise little nuggets, today I read:

‘Our Father, save us from intellectual folly.  Elevate us above the hair splitting of words.  Show us the logic of surrendering our alcoholism to You.’

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It’s just like so not about me, the surrendering and all of this grace.  Thank god.  I struggle, we all struggle, and then we have this giant cushiony word called GRACE to fall back into, if we so choose to do so.  My old friend from LB, T used to say, “Just show up.”  Yeah.  It’s that simple sometimes.

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I have my letters of recommendation for the yoga teacher training job trade scholarship.  I have the application fee saved.  All I have to do is write up a bio and fill out the application.  There are so many different things I want to say in the bio, how do you sum up your yoga journey and who you are as a person in a couple of paragraphs?  I’ve never been good at that, I want to tell you the whole story, not just the blurb on the inside of a book cover.  I’m excited though.  I got into a conversation about what I do now and then about yoga teacher training.  Guess at which point in my monologue that I smiled the most?

My friends are at a gratitude weekend that I used to go to in CA.  They actually called me and left me a really sweet message.  It still amazes me that I have friends like that.  I’ve been gone for almost a year and then they call me and say a whole bunch of funny and awesome things.  Grace, I guess.  And lots of it.


Since I had four days off last week, I decided to take a mini-road trip with my son.  I set my sights upon Lincoln City.  Most of the Oregon Coast is brand new territory for me, having just recently moved from C A L I F O R N I A.  We set out to just make a day of it, but left too late, and by the time we arrived it was already getting dark.  My son is great in the car so far, he just sleeps and sleeps.  We parked at a parking lot with beach access and took a walk.

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Mama rock & baby rock?

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It was nice to see the ocean.  It was always there in CA, I lived in San Pedro right on the edge of the ports, I could see the ocean from my bathroom window in my shower if I craned my body the right way.  I worked off the bay (the L.A. river feeding into the Pacific) and I was constantly shooting up and down Ocean Blvd. in Long Beach which paralleled the ocean.  I practiced yoga on the bluff at sunset, and watched the sun dip into the ocean many nights a week.

Not wanting to drive home, I pulled out my phone and booked a room at Sailor Jacks.  I think we were supposed to stay there.  I had been undecided back at home, had pulled up some places and that was one of them.  Then, when we were driving around trying to find beach access, we ended up there at the end of a dead end street.  The place has lots of character, the check-in dude was very kind (he saw my son drop his toy under my car when we were coming in and ran outside to retrieve it), the price was amazing ($60-70 during this slow season), and T H E  V I E W!  I felt like we were I N the ocean.

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H had a hard time sleeping as he typically does when we travel.  I don’t even bother with a crib, he knows I’m there and he will be only happy in the bed with me.  He was basically attached to me the whole night.  Mama’s out there will know what I mean!  He woke at 7AM and was in his happy-go-lucky babbling/yelling stage.  I heard coughing through the wall so we hightailed it out of there so that our coughy neighbor could hopefully get some more sleep.  Up with the moon!  Man the early rising is so hard sometimes, but then I would never get to see so many beautiful beginnings.

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A Tsunami waved over the area in 1700.  It made me think a lot about how finite we are, we build up so much whether it be physical castles or castles in the air, and then smush!  It all gets knocked down.  Where do we go after this lifetime?  I think on it on a whole other level as a Mama.

We said bye to Lincoln City and tripped up the 101 to Tillamook.  H slept.  I wish I could have taken pictures because it was a beautiful drive.  There were giant misty fields with various livestock being statuesque, framed by blue mountains.  If I had $1 for every time I saw a barn…  And trees, trees, and more trees.  I’m still not used to all of the trees.  We did stop at one pull out so I could go to the bathroom.  The roads were empty, due to it being a Tuesday maybe.  I didn’t see hardly any cars at all.

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In Tillamook we visited the Pioneer Museum.  I just kind of wanted a place to walk around while H was awake, otherwise he would be a crankster.  Tillamook is very pretty, I wished I could have stayed to explore the surrounding area.

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After Tillamook we headed down Hwy 6, another windy and scenic drive.  I was starving by that point and many of the middle of nowhere diners were closed.  We ended up stopping in Banks, and I grabbed a grilled cheese from the Banks Diner, which turned out to be very good, best french fries I have ever had.

H’s grandparents W and M were very happy to see us (mostly H) when we got back.  We had a good trip and I felt so thankful for the beauty of Oregon and the time I was able to spend with my son.

I signed up for a $30 for 30 day pass at Escape to Yoga in Sherwood.  It’s a bit hard to find any studios out where we live, but had a friend who teaches there recommend this place.  It was my first yoga class in 2015, the teacher summed up my fears nicely as she opened the class, she said, “some of you coming back to yoga after a long break will be feeling nervous.”  Hell to the yeah I was feeling nervous, it didn’t matter how long I had practiced in the past, the time spent away during my pregnancy and raising little H was a LONG GAP.  I am so ready to get back into it.

And it was good.  Of course it was good, it’s yoga, yoga is the center of rich goodness.  As I moved through the poses, my mind breathed to me just one word: “Space.”  Space is what I have been lacking in all my going, going, going.  There has been no space.  No hands.  No down time.  Doing only four things at once.  God it felt so good, this first yoga class in the new year.  I was sore as I knew I would be.  I modified, and was proud that I allowed myself to, instead of trying to do each pose to the max and perfectly.  I went the next day as well.  I felt so strong the day after that.  I love how yoga makes you feel so strong.  I remembered huffing and puffing going up the stairs, 9 and 1/2 months pregnant as I seemed to jump up them in a single bound.

I’m excited for this month of yoga and what comes after.  The yoga teacher training I’ve been interested in has been moved back a month (April & May) which gives me an extra month to plot.  I keep praying that the doors open.  The strong voice inside of me keeps encouraging to trust and believe.


I love that saying, “Walking against the wind,” because it so righteously depicts that feeling that the whole world is out to get me.  I know you’ve felt it too.  I drop my keys, I hit my head against the car door when I reach to pick them up, I spill coffee on my WHITE shirt when I shamble into the car seat, I scrape the side of my car as I back out.  It can go on and on.  Or at least I used to think it did.  I used to rant, I used to rave, I didn’t get it.  I still don’t fully.

I don’t get it but I do/think about things differently today.  I drop stuff and then I pick it up.  I bump and collide and keep going without hardly thinking about it.  I find myself walking against the wind ANYWAYS.  I walk stronger.  When there’s no wind I sail.  Before it stopped me.  Sometimes it still does.  But now I keep. on. going.  Fuck the wind.

I was thinking on it as I walked down a hiking trail, my son strapped to my chest.  Smooth sailing one direction, the road got muddy in front of us so I turned and, ouch.  The wind cut deep.  I was thinking about my future on this walk.  My son fell asleep.  I was thinking about leaving my job and doing yoga teacher training.  I thought about it.  I talked about it.  I had the resources to do it.  But would I?

A bombardment of worries filled me.  How would we eat?  That was a big one, a constant, never ending ghoul hanging onto my shoulders.  I had been poor before and very recently, but never with another soul I had to take care of.  I promised myself he would never have to feel the way I had felt, how did teaching yoga waylay those fears?

I kept walking.  He slept.  I prayed.  I didn’t want to go to a job I didn’t like anymore.  I wanted my son to watch his mom be happy in the career path she chose.  Was that even possible?  I still don’t know.  Today my boss asked me if I could work only four days a week, which strangely will help me save money because I won’t have to pay for day care.  The promise of that one day off gave me wings.  What more is to come here?

A good friend (a great friend) told me to do the next indicated step on this yoga thing.  I will show up to my job, I will do the next indicated step, and I will continue walking against the wind.

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