Correction

Again I'm dazed at how devout
Fate is to grant my wishes out
Into the world of actions, time, and space.

I wrote that I would like to give
to who will take, and then to live,
and sure enough, my phone Fate took in daze.

Amazing too, it's midnight tight
and barely had I popped the light
on my computer, the same Macbook Pro.

But just so everything is clear
to avoid my Mac from disappearing
I'd like to give when ready to let go.

Amazing, just two days behind,
I said not all is clean and kind,
And then I found some mean, some mad, some muck.

I have to think that Fate is quick
to wishes grant and loose parts click
when Will is cleared and opened up to luck.

Still I find myself inclined
to open unknown doors.
I'll just make sure my naïve to cure,
'fore I make up more lores.

Three years behind, minus a half,
I dared the rocks in river life.
bare weeks ahead, world at me laughed
and threw a rock right at my bike.

So now I think I'll take more care
when forces of the world I dare.
For though my mind be brave and true,
my body sometimes needs care too.

Sight through a Greyhound Window

I seem to stare out blankly at the world, which is all the same, but I absorb it differently. Before I took the sights and facts and sounds in, tagged, named, labeled, planned, grasped out to reach the entire world outside and to hoard it all for my own. I wanted to be filled with it, contain it, have my experience come to me at my lightest beck and call. It was related to being a memory packrat.

Now somehow I just see, and let it come to me. I breathe it in effortlessly, and I wonder what brought about this change.

But I lose interest in finding the answer, so I continue to just breathe.

Gravereader

Gravereader, hark! I beg of thee
Stay awhile and let us be
Through death only these few moments rejoined.

If I knew thee then "hey!" to you,
How's life, how's love, and those to you
Endeared, close, or otherwise conjoined?

I know the fact that I died first
Means you'll still have some time the thirst
Of shedding this experience to the past.

But you also have some time to breathe,
To hug, to run, swim in the sea,
Enjoy them, for the moments cannot last.

If I knew you not, I say "Hi,
Random stranger still alive!"
What brings you to my little piece of ground?

If I was burned, then to my pot,
But then I honestly know not
Wherefrom you read this scripture that you found.

I would ask you "what is your name?"
But we both know that silly game
Works only if we both have minds to use

And mine is, well, involved no longer
With the details of this yonder
World that both our selves did once produce.

Anyway, enough of games
I'll tell you why I kept you today
Reading this half-decent piece of verse.

You are alive, and you are free
Yes, totally, please do trust me
Believe me, even if my words are terse.

Your life and freedom are the keys
To days of heaven in this piece
Of time you've been allotted, not that much.

Yet sometimes feels like never ends
Still, happiness most depends
On the awareness of your role and such.

And your role is so natural,
So much, it turns infactual:
You're in this world to freaking just be you.

Axiomatic? Yes, it is!
Unenlightening? If you please.
It's not a fact to know or understand.

It's lore of old, and too of new,
No theorem can possibly prove
This concept both so meaningless and grand.

I ask you again, what brings you here?
I expect no words, for it is clear,
There's little I could do with a response.

But tell yourself what dost thee think
Of the events that brought the brink
of reading strangers' epitaphs by chaunce.

And on them ponder, because they
forever will precede your way
even after the world is done and through.

And yet consider, that your time
is not the done, the old, the grime
of what is past. Your time is but the new.

And in this tiny blink of now,
that stretches beyond all smile and scowl
we are confined to flow through our whole lives.

The past is gone, the future yet to be,
and though some think it agony,
we see, yet, that the whole world thrives.

Thus despair not, of what you've done,
of what you've said, what you've begun
and left unbred, that's etched in Time for good.

Carry on, embrace your ups and downs
Waltz through your joy, mistakes, and frowns
Your music needs dischords to shift its mood.

Your life and context is your floor
the world your audience and score,
but no one feels your moves as much as you.

One two three, whoops, you missed a step!
You did? I kid. None can direct
your heartbeat's tunes, nor tell what is your due.

Remember, no one too long lasts.
Dance through your now, and let the past
be not burden and chain, but teaching guide.

Let's dance, skip, prance, fall, take a chance,
learn moves, make new, sway to old romance,
listen, follow yourself, enjoy your ride.

I am now alive, and when I ask
what I want following my past,
I find in me that I would like to give

What I still have to who'll take,
then sing, dance, paint, write, treasures make,
to run, to love, to feel, to breathe, to live.

I want the whole world to explore,
meet other me's, bask in the dawn,
alone or shared, in moonlight, sun, or rain.

I want to taste the naked heart
of Nature, Time, take Life apart,
understand consciousness past joy and pain.

Reader, please know, I hope you know
that these rhymes are not just for show
exquisiteness in life can be achieved.

Momentum is a lovely thing
makes rivers flow, turns cold to spring
although its side effects I've sometimes grieved

For "Live" is not a passive verb
those who live thus might find interred
their inner spark under a dusty crust

then lose it, miss it, then forget
their goal is not really to get
through Life alive only because they must.

Too often I see others lead
so many more, who meekly heed,
along broad path that ancient steps begun.

But this broad path, now dusty and worn
was once wild green, just like now forms
that unknown rest no one has stepped upon.

You know where that broad path will end
somewhere behind more lines of them
who did the same as you, but just before.

So wander off, renew your view,
those ancients were wanderers too,
who left the path them given in their lore.

You'll feel the grass beneath your feet
sweeter than shoes on smooth concrete,
shade, fruits, and streams, still in state pristine.

Though heed the meaning of "unknown",
You'll find things never before shown,
And not all are sweet, gentle, soft, or clean.

But personally, I much prefer
to wander off and dangers dare
than follow others in eternal line.

For one Life only here I see:
that thought, writ, sung, and played by me,
and none can give me what is truly mine.

If this text comes to influence you,
remember others are you too,
but born and chanced by different winds of Fate.

So think of them as that, as you's
learn, teach, or help to best produce
a world that you'd feel glad to celebrate.

Help not for gain or lofty name,
Do so because in this life game,
we're all lost in ways others are more found.

If not enough, then synergy
might poke you just enough to see:
ant rafts, bird v's, plants growing on trees-not-ground.

As I write of what others are,
it seems just right to say, on par,
which facts surround the writer, namely, me.

Hispanic male, just twenty nine,
lounging on couch on a curved spine
swyping words on my Galaxy S3.

Grad student, Pittsburgh, CMU,
computers' background, some math too,
with parents loving, teaching, soft, and kind.

Not rich, not poor, but just well off,
to eat, sleep, dress I have enough,
with curious, open, often rhythmic mind.

Thirsty for travel, skills, and feat,
parkour fan til a Chevy hit
my bike's back hard enough that I forgot.

And that three limbs of mine were smashed,
but people helped me after the crash,
and now I walk, and run, though not a lot.

Took Yoga up just recently,
Can ride a cycle decently,
And both of those I do without a limp.

Love swimming, piano, violin,
much prefer plants to eating skin
or meat, a tad of allergy to shrimp.

I think it's not that orthodox
to include one's life in poem's midst
But I was hardly one to wear a tux.

This poem here has actually
grown to an unforeseen degree
And at large font, perhaps too long for stone.

Maybe by time I die they'll have
some holo-tombstone epitaphs.
Less lasting, but with pretty, floating cones.

Well, if you read this (and you do),
it follows that you are a due
member of an educated race.

As such, I hope you can infer
That I attempt with choice and care
To share what I've found worthy in my pace.

If you find truth in what I say
Please take from it what you most may
And find its inspiration in the world.

If you, instead, find these sayings false,
then by all means, proceed your waltz.
I know my truths all others will not hold.

Gravereader, thank much do I thee!
Thy bright, engaging company
Brings me much hope and happiness combined.

Even past death we share a bond
Of consciousness and curious mind
May your will and the world's be well aligned!

Fearless

I sometimes fear being cheesy, showing the full genuineness of my intentions, thoughts, and feelings, as I might appear naive, gullible, or overdramatic, and might lose my treasured credibility. So I've made sure to dampen my expression with the objective disclaimer of skepticism, even when my soul is sparked with the brightest excitement, even when talking to others also excited about the same subject. For so long I have done this. I proclaim to want to do this no more on account of fear, or of its same another, shame.

I sometimes fear appearing as one unskilled or incapable, of showing the true range of my knowledge, and I speak aloud, with fake meekness, what I can best infer from what I know, from what I've learned from the conversation, and from where I feel that the other person wants to move the conversation towards. And I explicitly avoid the topics I disknow, veiling my ignorance, afraid of appearing ignorant, incapable, or unfit. And now sometimes I am even unsure of my own knowledge. I proclaim I want to do this no more on account of fear, or of its same another, shame.

I sometimes am lauded with praise or simple positive comments about my mental agility, my understanding, my physical capacity, or other such qualities, and I most often rebuke these comments with that fake modesty that I learned in elementary school, from my father, as I remember, and have been unable, or unwilling, rather, to dispose of since. Unwilling because my attitude, refined into a subtle persuasion, proves to capture others' admiration further, and my ego feeds on such attention. Unable because the need for attention and praise has become an addiction, because I know no other "polite" way to respond to praise, and because I secretly fear the opinions that might ensue in others in response to my raw opinion of myself, one perhaps haughtier and more insecure, the one unmasked by modesty and by a lifetime of training, unweathered by the true currents of the world, because I fear the alternative to such a constant in my life. I proclaim that I wish to no longer mask myself with fake modesty on account of fear, or of its same another, shame.

Nostalgia

Saco papeles que no habían visto la luz en casi un año, encuentro mapas, monedas, billetes de Tailandia y China, y recuerdo mis viajes con Scarlet, y algunos anteriores en un tren hacia Beijing. Y noto que mis mementos, tesoros en la mente que los coleccionó, me parecen ahora poco más que recibos de un pasado casi irrelevante a mi ahora. Y noto como difieren mis reacciones ahora de antes. Y me da nostalgia de tener nostalgia, un pico de asombro al considerar que mis amadas aventuras en países lejanos se han vuelto una bolsa de papeles extráneos, incómodos de mantener y cargar por mi vida, que pienso mantener ligera. Me asombra mi propio cambio, me alegra mi sorpresivo desapego, y hasta me preocupa considerar a ésto una señal de madurez y de deseo de estabilidad.

Pero es lo que es, y yo lo noto. Lo observo. Es lo que soy, deseos y conflictos incluidos.

Franzi

Although Laura and I had digitally sent each other a seemingly final goodbye, I withheld for a long time the strong feeling that I should give her a birthday present to wrap things up with more grace. I also really felt like Laura would like what "The Prophet" has to say, so I Amazon'd the book, enclosed in it the cover of a chocolate cover that she gave me while I was in a wheelchair, pasted on its back a cookie fortune that said: "Look around, happiness is trying to catch you", wrapped it up with two thick sheets of paper I ripped from my current notebook and 4 thumbtacks, and wrote "Welcome to your 29th year! Hope it's a fun one!" with dry erase markers on the front. The monthly Baha'i Unity meeting happened to fall only one day after her birthday, so there I went, present in hand, intending to see her, gather some yet unknown vibe from her, offer/give her her present, and depending on the vibe, stay or leave for the whole meeting.

I sat at the porch for 10-15 minutes first, making up my mind to either enter or leave. I guessed Laura might not have arrived yet, so I hung out on the stairs waiting for her, next to a grey cat who just happened to be there too. Its light gray fur and greenish eyes, and even its graceful movements reminded me of Laura, and I stared at him for a while, hoping to see Laura come in. But no one came, so I went in, and began saying hi to everybody. Laura was already in the dining room, and she smiled pretty genuinely when she saw me.

Laura: "I didn't know you were coming!", she said happily.

Antonio: "Yeah, well, it was a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Laura: I imagined so.

She was talking to a nice-looking girl, so I let them resume their conversation, and I went around talking to people. When the presentation started (a movie about Baha'is in Iran), I sat at a chair on the far side of the dining room, as I had a direct line of view to the screen. As it turned out, the nice-looking girl didn't have a good spot to see the movie from, so I offered to give her my spot. Astrid suggested she move her chair right next to mine. She did just that, so we ended up sitting together on the far side of the dining room, watching the movie together, throwing in some conversation once in a while.

Her name was Franziska, she was from Germany, and she was visiting Pittsburgh for just about a week - she was leaving on Tuesday. With more free time in my hand, I offered to take her around Pittsburgh during the few days she was still in town. I told her there was an art show going on that night, 8PM-0045, and she was actually interested in going. Happily surprised, I figured out how to get there and how to get her back to her godparents' place in Carnegie.

Laura happened to walk back into the kitchen while the movie was running, and I took the chance to give her her present. She seemed to like it, with her slightly-confused/happy laugh: "heehee, what is this?". "It's your birthday present!". She then told me she was glad that I'd come, since she wanted to get in touch with me again, despite her last email. I was happy to hear that, and we agreed to meet again once she was out in the "clear", as she called it, since she's busy with stuff from school, such as end-of-semester chores and planning a trip to Costa Rica.

After the meeting was over, Laura still seemed busy talking to people, so I said goodbye to her, we quickly re-agreed to meet again when she was more "in the clear", and I left with Franzi and her godparents to the art show.

30 lost-and-found minutes later, we arrived at the art show venue (Dance Alloy), only to see that it was already closing (it was only an hour long, not five). Aimless now, we proceeded to walk along Negley Ave, and I thought of taking her to Shadow Lounge as an alternative night destination. We walked for a while, casually conversing about this and that, about Pittsburgh, about herself, about myself. When we reached Shadow Lounge, funny thing, it was closed! On Saturday night! As it turned out, it had just closed its doors to the public on March 30th, only a week earlier. Ah, luck.

So we kept on walking, this time on Centre Ave, and I had no idea where to take her. Still, our conversation was pleasant. We reached a bus stop, and I thought we could take the 82 back home. But Whole Foods was right across the street, and I proposed we go in and find something to eat and drink. She was thirsty, so we went in. I got a carrot juice, she got a coffee and some kind of vanilla juice. We sat down, kept on talking, and stayed in the store until we were kicked out at 10PM.

We then took the 82 down to Neville (mistakingly instead of Craig), kept on walking, Franzi fell twice, and I showed her my favorite cherry tree at Henry and Neville. It was dark, but she still liked the tiny pink blossoms. I then showed her the whole expanse of Craig St, then back to my apartment. She seemed to be feeling tired (there was yawning), so I thought I'd take her back. Ah, then we couldn't find the zipcar on Craig St, so I told her to wait for me at the apartment, and that I'd just scoot and get the closest car around. That was on campus, so I grabbed the first one I could and drove back to the apartment. I forgot to turn my headlights on, and sure enough, a police patrol stopped me and asked for my license and registration. Fortunately I only got a warning. I then went back to the apartment, told the incident to Franzi, and we laughed about how utterly failing our night had been.

I dropped her off, and we agreed to meet on Monday. Sunday I did little... some Yoga, breakfast with Montse at Ritters, maybe some work on the Audio Stories, piano practice... not much else I remember. Monday, however, after a morning yoga session, I met with Franzi in downtown at Liberty Ave, and we spent the whole day touring around.

First we went to the Monongahela Incline, went up all the way, took pictures of the landscape and her, talked about photography, walked through the Mt Washington neighborhood, talked about Ghanean, German, and Guatemalan education systems. We went back down, and walked to Chipotle to have lunch. I insisted she try the Chipotle burrito, and she did. It was a bit too spicy for her (as she got both the mild and the hot sauce on it), but we had fun eating it out on Market Square. We talked about what the PPG building looked like, her future plans, exotic fruit, and burritos. I then planned to take her to Highland Park, to check out the reservoir over there. But then the bus never came, and we only had 2 hours before she wanted to take her bus back home. When I learned from Google Maps that it took 1 hour to get to the reservoir, we canceled on that plan, and we hung out at North Park, where the Zen-style fountain rocks are, next to the river. We sat down there, talked for a bit, and I told her I liked her. Like, I liked her liked her.

She was surprised. "Oh, um, what a surprise". I was happy to say it, though. Out of the system, able to have any conversation and opinion without reservation. Ah, the freedom. I said what's polite and expected later on: "I'm not looking to get anywhere by saying this, I hope we remain friends, I think we get along really well". Which was all true, but still, it seems boring to use as a post-tell-a-girl-you-like-her smoothing protocol. Maybe I'll come up with something better than verbatim honesty.

A bit later, we were walking back on the bridge to downtown, we got some coffee at Bruegger's Bagels, again at Market Square, and then we walked to her bus stop, right before it came along. We got to the stop, and I still had questions in my mind. "You don't like me that way, but what do you think about me? Two nights ago in the car, when I dropped you off, did you feel that awkward moment when I could've kissed you? Were you expecting me to kiss you? Dreading it?" I had all these questions. But the 31 bus showed up too much on time, so we barely said goodbye, I wished her luck on the rest of her US trip, and she left.

And then I realized that, despite my curiosity on the several remaining questions, I was happy knowing that I'd told her I liked her. It was done, it was true, and now I held no hidden desires. And then I realized that most of the other questions only served to my self-esteem and ego, so I deemed them unnecessary, and suddenly I just felt great about how my two days with Franzi had transcurred.

Yoga Post 2

Five days and eight classes into my yoga venture, I stand at a point of approval. I enjoy this practice very much. Even though the yoga studio is heated up to 100F, and as Franziska mentioned this is not the usual environment we move in, the sensations and side-effects I perceive are all positive. I just came back from two afternoon classes directed by the same instructor, Michelle. She likes to proceed into Warrior position often, and to stay there long. As with many other positions, I feel getting there is such a great stretching exercise, then staying there tests the body's capacity to endure weight and keep balance. And the way we breathe in and out deeply, in sync with our body movements - it feels so attuning. I am so often unaware of my breath's rhythm, intensity, evenness, or even presence - and feeling such primal awareness in the body sends sweet energy through my neck and spine, down my arms, sometimes focus down to my fingertips, down my legs, up my face between my eyes. It feels positively holistic in the least, and with potential for deep spirituality.

So today at Michelle's class, I bent my front knee low, straightened my right leg to the back, and stretched out my arms back and front to keep the Warrior position #2. We were there for, well, longer than my legs were comfortable with, and I attempted to sink my hips down deeper with every exhalation. I find that one detail in Yoga fairly fascinating. The fact that one has set a position one believes is extreme and is pushing against, but it only takes an intentional breath, a meaningful exhalation, to take one's body past one's previous limits. It seems extraordinary. One pushes down as much as possible, then inhales deeply and with purpose, then allows oneself to relax while exhaling, and the joints that seemed to be "fully stretched" move through further by up to, well... a lot. Quite noticeably, since the sensation in the leg or the arm or the back or the shoulder or the neck changes to one further stretched. Just with one breath. And each one manages to get through more, and more, and more... it's amazing. In practice, some positions we work on (like the Warrior position #2) tire my leg and hip muscles a little bit faster the deeper I sink, so they sometimes shake and shake, and the feeling of intense tiredness (not precisely pain, but certainly a feeling the body asks not to feel) in the muscles have sometimes caused me to either lose my balance, or desist.

I don't like desisting though - I enjoy completing the exercises as best as I can, and I feel that a main attribute I train within my Yoga practice is my intention - my determination to do what I have set out to do with my full potential, despite the discomfort, despite my own second thoughts, despite the promised relief that desisting would provide... Intention is a powerful force, and training it seems worthwhile indeed. And not only to get stretchier, stronger muscles and tendons, a more balanced body, a cleaner complexion (which I imagine sweating regularly provides), post-session endorphin rushes, a calmer attitude in general, and an enhanced awareness of one's body and breath, of their parts and their essence and their rhythm and flow. But to learn to direct our intention, our focus, the very essence of our consciousness, towards the purposes of our lives in general. I believe and hold that unfocused strength is futile in this Life, and I see so many of us live with little true purpose day-to-day. I see Yoga as a way to train Intention, sometimes also called Willpower. And I now see that as its most valuable benefit by far.

So anyway, back to Michelle's class. In the first class I felt I followed the exercises with good accuracy, and my muscles felt quite active afterwards. I found her sessions to encourage synchronization between breath and movement the most so far, as she continually mentions whether we should inhale or exhale, almost at every movement. When we hold a position, she emphasizes that we breathe in and out, and that we use our breathing to sink deeper or stretch further or push higher. I enjoyed that - I found it most helpful to validate the importance I gave to breathing, to be reminded of it as my sore muscles shook like an old motorcycle, and then by doing it, to realize that deep and meaningful breathing actually goes a long way to relax my muscles, to make the stretching more tolerable (despite the increased soreness), and to be more aware of my body's state. She often set us on Warrior position #2, which I designate a "holding" position, and left us there longer than I've been used to. The result was increased soreness, but, again, a stronger emphasis on the power of our breath, which also led to good training of Intention. Most enjoyable.

I decided to stay for Michelle's second class, despite my sore muscles, because it was labeled as "Basics". I thought it would be useful to learn the core movements at a slower pace, since so far I have only attended "Levels 1&2" and "Power Yoga" classes, and I've had to only infer the details of many positions, many of whose names I'm not even sure of, and that I recognize only by their position in a common sequence or by looking at what everyone else is doing. As it happened, "Basics" was not that basic. Body positions were not described any more in detail than in "Levels 1&2" classes - perhaps only slightly slower, but I learned little technical detail from it. What I did get was what felt like a full-intensity class, only about 30% shorter, with which spare time I lay on my mat and rested my leg muscles, which I could not sustain at the Warrior position #2 for the amount of time Michelle instructed. When I attempted to hold the position and sink my hips, my legs shook and shook, earthquake-like, and even breathing in as deeply as I managed was not able to counter the discomfort and tiredness, which I closely attribute to the preceding class. Still, I hold the belief that I produced my body's almost best possible performance, just at the threshold of enduring pain artificially (blocking it out instead of relaxing), and tightening the muscles for dear life. I came back up as much as I managed, but not much later Michelle instructed us to go back to sitting, and to more stable positions like high plank and cobra and stretching hands up to the sky and diving down like a swan with the head looking up until the very bottom. Those were ok, but at the end of the class, even the baby-like leg holds were a bit too uncomfortable sometimes. We did a lot of resting in the end, and rest I did. Even after the final "Namaste", I just lay on my mat and felt my body buzz with either excessive accumulated energy, an endorphin rush, or dehydration. Andrea was right beside me, by the way, and she was also resting after the session, catching her breath. That session was less "Basics" than I thought it'd be.

I felt different when I got up from my mat. Dizzy, buzzing, and light-headed. My body tingled all over with what I felt as energy. I disinfected my mat, put the stuff back in its place, and when I stepped out onto the tiny Yoga lobby with Andrea, a conversation developed:

• Antonio: (Walking out of the yoga room a bit unsteadily) That was a great class, Michelle!
• Michelle: Thank you! I didn't know you were staying for both classes.
• Andrea: Do you have some water bottles he can drink? He didn't have any, and I think he's dehydrated.
• Michelle: Oh yes, sure! We have water bottles for a dollar.
• Blonde girl: Here, have this water (taking it out fo the fridge).
• Antonio: Thanks! I'm not sure if it's dehydration though - I just know I'm buzzing all over. (When I try to grab the water bottle, my fingers don't bend as easily as I expected them to). My fingers aren't moving that well.
• Blonde girl: You're on a yoga high!!
• Antonio: Heh, yes, it feels like it. I have all these thoughts in my head that I'd like to write down.
• Blonde girl: You should write them down when you get home!
• Antonio: I'm not sure I'll still have the feeling by then. Maybe there's a pen around here? Or I'll use my phone... oh wait! I didn't bring my phone... :-/
• Blonde girl: You can write it when you get back.
• Antonio: Yeah, I'll try that :) Say, right now, I think things like... (hanging sideways from the bathroom doorway with my left hand), "Balance comes the most when you're not looking for it".
• Blonde girl: You are so happy!
• Antonio: Yeah! I feel great... A little like I'm drugged.
• Blonde girl: Yeah, you're feeling all that energy! It's exciting...
• Antonio: Hey, what's your name?
• (Name presentations ensue, I tell her I'm from Guatemala, bla bla. Her name is Lindsey. She begins to massage my shoulders).
• Antonio: Thanks. That feels... OH! (and she reached spots on my shoulders that triggered both soreness and intense relief, that almost buckled my knees). Oh, that feels good! Can you go in deeper there?
• Lindsey: (Doesn't go deeper, decides to massage the sides of my shoulders, other places around.
• Antonio: Do you know how to massage?
• Lindsey: I'm learning Reiki.
• Antonio: Reiki! I had a friend in Guatemala who did that! That's awesome! So you're opening me up? ;)
• Lindsey: Yes!! You have all this energy, we should use it!
• Antonio: Oh, I agree! Thanks a lot!
• Lindsey: (Continues massaging around my shoulders). Think that there are roots coming out of your feet.
• Antonio: Ok. Should I bring them together?
• Lindsey: Yes. Imagine there are roots coming out of your feet, and they go into the ground. And deeper, into the mantle, deep into the earth...
• Antonio: Ok. (Looking at her directly in her eyes as she looked at me, so just to clarify:) Where should I be looking at?
• Lindsey: Just look at me.
• Antonio: OK!
• Lindsey: Think of your roots, going down into the earth, into the mantle, deeper, down into the core, and they go around the glowing ball of energy. And imagine that the energy goes up through your roots, up and up, and they reach your feet.
• (I stop looking at her and close my eyes).
• Lindsey: Imagine your feet filling up your energy, and reaching up to your ankles.. your knees.. your thighs.. your hips.. your abdomen, your arms, your chest, your back, up to your shoulders, your neck, your face, your head, and then it goes way up and connects with the sky. And feel that energy flow through you. Breathe the energy in and out, breathe it in from the Earth, breathe it out from the Sky. Breathe it in through your body, breathe it out again.
• (As I breathed in and out deeply and rhythmically, visualizing and feeling energy going up and down my body.
• Lindsey: Do you feel the energy?
• Antonio: Yessss...

The Reiki session was very focusing. I felt relaxed, aware, and energetic, all at the same time, after that. My fingers were buzzing with energy, and I said so. I felt simply present after that, just... there, aware. It felt really great. I thanked Lindsey a lot, then eventually left. I'm curious about how involved and capable she is about bodily-energetic matters.

And now, 3 hours later, I still feel calm. And look at that, I actually did come back home and wrote about the Yoga high and about my thoughts. They didn't come out in the form of small sayings, but I like them. Cool :)

So that's my impression of Yoga so far. 2 sessions Friday, one on Saturday, one on Sunday, one on Monday, 3 today. Feels niiice.

Yoga Post 1

As yet another idea to log an exciting new activity, I want to record my progress through one month of Yoga, for which I signed up just last night. Last afternoon I attended the class at 4:30PM, and it was greeeat. I arrived around 2 minutes late, I showed my 1-month groupon, took off my shoes and the stuff from my pockets, and entered the room. It smelled of citrus and felt hot - the thermostat next to the door said 100F.

I lay down my borrowed black mat somewhere on the side of the class, and lay down along with everyone else. The ambience seemed purposefully relaxing, but I didn't quite feel the relaxation just yet. I lay on my mat, looked around, and stretched my body out a little. I breathed in the citrus, held a few wispy thoughts that crossed my mind, and just waited for the class to start.

A few minutes later, the instructor came in, introduced himself, said there were a few new people in the class, and told us to do as much as we wanted, but to back off if it hurt, and to listen to our bodies, as this was our practice, anyway. It seemed to be something he said a lot, probably at the start of each class, and then he started.

He spoke very fast, and many words sounded Hindi-like: Prasanna, Vinyasa, Darshadan... and they were all names of positions to follow. Then he also talked about a half moon, a warrior position, a cobra, and sometimes he shorted sentences to only one or two words, and that seemingly was enough for other students to understand what movements to take. I thought it'd take me too much time to recognize and parse everything that he said properly, so I ended up just doing whatever the asian girl to my right was doing. She was dressed in a gray suit, and she responded to the teacher's instructions instantly, so it seemed like she knew what she was doing. I followed her for most of the class.

The movements were mostly fairly simple - stretch one leg, bend the other knee, hands down - half-push-up position, then do like a cobra (stretch head and thorax up in a curve); stretch both legs in pyramid position; bring head down to a block while lifting one leg, keeping balance only with leg and head; stretch arms up, stretch arms to the sides, bring them along with body; it was quite fast-paced, and though the positions seemed simple, staying in them was the trick... even if the muscles are able to easily flex into such positions, they're not used to staying in most of them... and the constant work on each of the body parts certainly works out the body... every part that is being stretched. The class tasks are basically "stretch this, flex that, lift that, pull here, keep balance, keep the position for X breaths while stretching/flexing/lifting/pulling/balancing, and just breathe naturally and comfortably in and out while you do all of this - no hurried or blocked breathing".

Throughout the class, I noticed how rapidly my body seemed to adjust and gain flexibility for some positions. Reaching down to touch the floor with stretched legs, for example - the first time it seemed out of reach, but after a few ups and downs and leg stretches, I was touching it with my fingers. After a few more, my palm knuckles were. It felt good to sense my body changing and adapting.

The class lasted about 75 minutes, and it seemed to work out most of the main parts of my body. My legs felt especially exercised, my shoulders seemed looser, and I felt more flexible and relaxed in general. I was sweating moderately, but I didn't feel quite tired, and then Jesse mentioned that the next class was Power Yoga, and that we were welcome to stay. Curious and encouraged by my first class, I stayed. I moved my yoga mat to the center of the class so I could face the teacher directly, and lay down on the mat for a while. I felt energized though, so I began stretching my legs up as much as I could - first at an angle, then straight up, then back as far as they would go, aiming towards the floor. I played with my arms, sought new positions for them to be in, and tried to feel out the balance of my body as I stretched and flexed in several ways. I arched my back, I turned this way and that way, and just moved around until the class started.

And then it started. It felt very similar to the first class - same movements, same poses, about the same speed. Then I noticed a few new positions. They also seemed harder, or at least more complicated. "Bring your right leg to the front between your hands, then bring your right hand behind and beside your right leg. Pull your head as much as you can to fit behind your leg, even if it doesn't go all the way, then keep it there, bring your hand down, and stay there for 10 breaths". Or the firefly: "Crouch, spread your bent legs in front of you to over shoulder-width, bring your hands between and behind your legs, then stretch them out behind your legs. Put the weight of your legs on your arms, and lift your legs off the floor. Stay there for 10 breaths". And even if I felt that I breathed 10 times, slowly and deeply, I often finished them, then Jesse would still say "...we're gonna do 3 more...", and then after the 3 he'd say "...two more breaths...". I know people breathe at different rates, but I still felt a little like in PE - where the professor would always ask more iterations of us than he declared at the beginning.

Power Yoga made me sweat more than the first class, and its design felt geared to a higher intensity. A few times I slipped on my sweaty hands, lost balance, or decided to take a 5-10 second break before rejoining the group's movements. I tried to wipe off the sweat with a towel, but it didn't work - my hands were either sweating constantly, or the mat was sweaty itself. In any case, at the end of the class I felt quite worked-out, but still, not out of breath or exhausted. I felt sweaty, stretched, and internally energetic, though my muscles might not have been quite up to a sprint race in that moment.

In short, I loved the Hot Yoga class. Let's see what happens during the rest of this month (lots of classes!!!!)

Breach

Gut wakes,
tears threaten,
and censored memories bubble up into my mind.

Low-light photographs,
noisy ISO patches,
they're not gone yet,
nor what they mean to me,
in me.

Shaky muscles
stirred with fear
of the dark days I thought long past.

Heavy chest,
apathetic head,
resolute mind,
to not shed my tears into the oblivious, unaffected world.