A Yoga Blast from the Past

Today I did Day 1 from Richard Hittleman's 28 Day Yoga Program. That is where I started, three decades ago.

I remember looking at the pages, moving through the unfamiliar poses. I remember being a little worried that there was something UnChristian about yoga, yet also intrigued. I remember feeling light and adventurous. How joyful to reconnect to that youth! I'm sure I started stiff, and then, was a little looser.

I know that routine by heart, because I stopped the 28 Day Program many times and restarted it. It's very simple -- 3 poses, once each, then the three poses three times each, then once each again, this time trying to flow gracefully between them. Easy to remember -- I remember Day 2, also.

My body still feels like mine. I've gained weight since then -- I don't feel it. I feel more tension in my shoulders, where then, it was in my back. Now, the lovely thing is how much more aware I am of my entire body. I feel little muscles all over my feet. I feel my ribs expanding. I settle right into a forward bend, and feel for every muscle that works to hold the position, and every one that I can let relax. The stiffness leaves me more quickly, and the relaxation reaches deeper.

I still stop and start my yoga. Only now, "stopping" is likely to mean that I slip three stretches in when I can, and "starting" means I sit cross-legged and breathe a little while before I begin a more extended session. I seldom let an entire day go without something; I also don't take up ambitious plans of arriving at advanced postures within 30 days -- both the extremes have gone.

And why is that? Because, after these years of stops and starts, now I feel my body. And it feels better, when I do some than when I do none, and I listen and accept it when it feels it has had enough.

I've learned to listen, and I've learned moderation. And those are radical gifts from thirty years of spotty practice. I have practiced yoga poorly, and it was seriously worth it.

Faith in Fiction

The first career I ever wanted was science fiction author. I started writing in grade school. By the end of fifth grade, I preferred science fiction to all other reading material. I aspired to write as prolifically as Isaac Asimov, as influentially as Robert Heinlein, and as gorgeously as Roger Zelazny.

I even started college with a double major in English and Physics, the better to support my ability to write science fiction.

Thirty years later, if I have a career at all, it is as an editor. I have skills in a handful of income-earning areas. In fact, I can write myself a short bio remarkably like those often seen in the back of science fiction books, where the authors have tried a wide variety of jobs, as if the person with the most work titles wins. Several of those skills I much enjoy practicing, and when I find a way to receive payment for them, I happily work at them -- part time. Of these, editing is the one I find it easiest to connect with clients for, and so it is the one I do the most.

I have even sold a good handful of science fiction stories. I also appear on panels at sf conventions, which I enjoy and do well. So, I am a science fiction author. I fall short of having a sf career, in that I don't earn enough to support myself, I spend relatively little time on it, and I haven't yet developed the name recognition that would give my next story a ready audience.

There are a number of reasons I don't write science fiction more prolifically. One is that some days, I lose my faith in fiction.

Stories need conflict. Lives are better off without it. My vision of life is one of continuous small improvements, time spent with people of good will, working out differences in a spirit of kindness and good faith, and a basically benevolent universe of ongoing progress. That would create incredibly dull stories. So, on many days, the very artificiality of conflict leaves me feeling that fiction is incongruent with my life.

I was reading Afterwords by Lawrence Block, and I was quite excited when he said he'd suffered a crisis of faith in fiction. All right! I thought. Here's a professional and gifted writer who had my same problem, solved it, and went on to create many more stories and hit every mark of fiction success! I can just do what he did! 

Imagine my disappointment when I discovered his crisis of faith was about a completely different aspect of fiction than mine. Apparently conflict never gave him a moment's worry -- it was the source of narration that bothered him. He solved it by writing some epistolary and journal-format stories, and left me to find my own way to a solution for the conflict conflict.

And yet, there is something about a great story that inspires and compels me. Fiction draws me in, elates me when it is well-done, and I love turning the pages to see how a smart character resolves a tough conflict.... Story can illuminate character, explore possibilities, and detail worldview better than fact. The deletion, selection, and concentration of fiction highlight many meanings that the myriad details of reality obscures.

It is a good thing my name is Paradox. I contain multitudes, and I sense a harmony I can't yet articulate within my smooth life and my love of fiction. Despite my occasional crises of faith, I have always come back to science fiction. I like reading about well-developed characters facing substantial conflicts, however little I want to live through such problems.

So my peaceful life may well continue to have a place for writing of disturbances.

I went to graduate school

Around March of 2011, I had an idea. What if we built insulating walls of straw mini-bales around manufactured homes? Would it be cost-effective? That is, could a small investment help people have lower heating and cooling costs? Would those costs be enough lower to repay the investment well?


This is an economics question. Some people might see it as an engineering question or a political question. For me, the critical aspect was cost vs. benefit, and that means economics. So I went off to New Mexico State University, the college a few blocks from my home, and discovered that the Agricultural Economics department felt welcoming and would in fact help me research whether this idea made economic sense.


By summer term, I was enrolled in the Master of Agricultural Economics program. I took two classes that summer. By Fall term, I had a graduate assistantship, and I continued to help teach classes in the Ag Econ department until I graduated on May 11th, 2013.


I had a great experience. My department and the entire University were warm and supportive. I enjoyed what I had to learn. I had all the drama of completing a thesis, and I discovered that yes, on paper at least, insulating manufactured homes with straw mini-bales looks effective, although the payback period is longer than I had hoped.


Graduate school has a logic of its own. It organized my hours while I was attending... walking to campus, attending classes, completing homework, grading homework in the classes I assisted with. I joined one campus group, and had good conversations with the graduate students sharing my office and studying with me. I enjoyed the professors of my department, and the administrative assistants, too.

And after a while, I scarcely emerged from that world.

Hello, again, internet! :-)

Now I've graduated, and had some time to recover from the final push to finish the thesis and complete all the requirements for the degree. I do recommend the experience of taking a Master's degree at NMSU, and the Agricultural Economics department was everything I'd hope for: knowledgeable, willing to help me through the requirements, available, organized, and friendly.

What's next? I'm not sure. I'm beginning to feel rested and restless. That has always led to me finding a new project before.

And I've definitely been thinking of things I want to write about! So here I am.

May you accomplish wonderful projects!

Anna

My Party of the Year is Coming

I am on a one-convention-per-year schedule. I've attended at least one, faithfully, for more than 2 decades now. When I lived in Oregon, Orycon became my home convention, and I'd hit a Westercon or Norwescon or Relaxacon when the fancy struck.

Now my home convention is Coppercon, in Phoenix, AZ. It's coming Labor Day Weekend, and I am really looking forward to it. It's a weekend of hanging out with people who feel like tribe, and talking about books and movies. There will be costumes and music, conversations in the hall, and new books to discover. I'm looking forward to being on four panels. I like a little structure in my parties!

I'd be glad to see you there. Check out the details, including my schedule, at http://www.casfs.org/cucon/. Come up and say hi. Ask questions about books I've mentioned or present some data that adds a different perspective to what I was saying -- it's all good!

I'm going as an author. To my mind, that makes my job helping the fans have a good time. That works out well, because talking to people about science fiction is what I enjoy, too.

Hope to see you there!

Anna

To a million people

Today's prompt:

What is burning deep inside of you? If you could spread your personal message RIGHT NOW to 1 million people, what would you say?

Live more lightly. Recognize that we and our world are deeply connected. Become alive to how the way you live affects plants, animals, the sea, the air, the soil. Gently take a step to live more kindly in this world.

Too Scary to Write About

Today's prompt has not yet arrived in my email. At last I looked it up. The question is What is too scary to write about?

This question falls at an interesting time. I just finished Calculating God by Robert Sawyer, and it did leave me afraid. I am afraid the world is ending. Maybe we have passed the tipping point in the changes we have made to our planet. Maybe the universe is quiet because someone or something removes intelligent life when it notices it. Maybe we are doomed, by our own unconsciousness to what we are doing, or by the malevolence of something out there.

What really scares me is the Drake equation. Those numbers seem to show so plausibly that there should be many worlds with intelligent life out there -- unless the span of civilization is very small. So if it is -- how does it end? What becomes of burgeoning technological civilizations -- why can we not see them? Are we and those like us inherently too much a danger to ourselves to last? Are we doomed? Is the sky empty of those who can look out and be conscious of its beauty? Or did some civilization make it beyond their own shores and now jealously guards against another civilization expanding?

In a short time, I will go back to doing what I can do, moment by moment. The fear does not help me do anything useful.

There it is, though. That is what scares me.

5 Years Either Way

Yesterday's prompt seemed repetitive and not terribly applicable to me. I skipped it! I'm free.

Today's prompt asks what I would say to myself of five years ago, and what I would say to the person I'll be in five years. Cool.

Five years ago, I had just moved to Las Cruces. I'd tell myself that that comes out ok. I'm really pretty happy with the choices I made between then and now. I kept feeling my way along to creating a business and finding good projects to work on.

One thing I could say is not to take an unpleasant person I ended up working with too seriously. Another is to treasure the really great people who have been the largest majority of the people I have worked with since then.

I might also recommend I save a little more money. The recession was still to come. Having a little more in savings would have made my transit through it a little easier. It's no big deal, though. We've been getting along.

To my future self -- remember how excited I was about my idea for a thesis? How did that come out? If I'm still working on the systems that might let the results of that research spread, I bet I could use a reminder of why I started the process. This could help a lot of people. If not -- if the research didn't turn out, or I couldn't find a way to apply it -- I'd like to remind myself of how passionate I felt about that project now. Is there some other way to accomplish those ends? If I have grown tired, can I reconnect with what excited me?

And I'd like to send ahead some fond memories of Las Cruces. I am truly enjoying living here. I have good friends and good support, and good local food, and a good house. I enjoy the weather and the vistas and the ease of life here. If my life, for some reason, ends up taking me somewhere else, remember -- this was a good place and a good time.

Living or Preparing to Live?

Today's prompt asked in what areas of my life I was preparing to live, and how I could start living instead.

That's probably more relevant for 20-somethings than for me. This is my life, already.

Each day, I spend time with someone I love: my top ally, the fabulous Doug Weathers. 25 years of marriage have only given us a richer shared language and more appreciation for each other.

I do work I love. I tend my home and family, and practice daily self-care, and have learned to enjoy it. I sing and create jewelry and write, making beauty in several ways.

I continue to learn -- my life has forward motion as well as the enjoyment of what I am doing now. I revel in new ideas and new techniques, and I increase my skills. All of that, too, is part of living.

I have a very good life.

Travel

Yesterday's writing prompt was for delayed action. The question is up on a Post-it. I'm thinking about it.

Today's prompt is about where I'd most like to travel, and what I am doing to get there.

I would most like to go to Vietnam. I've always been attracted to what we used to call the Orient. I like how different it is -- civilized and yet holding different mindsets. I like the art, the look of the people, what I've heard about the lifestyle and the philosophy.

Vietnam in particular began to capture my attention when I found my first Vietnamese restaurant in Portland, Oregon. Vietnamese swiftly became my favorite cuisine: fresh, full of vegetables, wonderfully seasoned. I enjoyed getting to know the waitress there, stumbled a little over cultural differences, and still felt she regarded me kindly.

My interest in travelling there increased when a friend went to Vietnam to adopt a little girl. She came home with child and photos and stories, all of which I found beautiful and intriguing.

Then there is the tender place that comes from our country's trials and failure there. Vietnam tested us as a nation. How now do we become friends? Can they forgive us? Can we forgive ourselves? We have learned, I think, to honor the sacrifices of the soldiers who went there, even as we question the worth of the war. Vietnam is a ground of learning to us.

I want to see the markets and hear the cities and feel how people live in that very different climate. I want to walk along the roads, and give my respect to the temples and gardens, and taste the food and spirit. I want to listen to the country we defoliated.

As to what I'm doing to get there? I haven't done much recently. I've been engaged in other projects, building a new business, supporting Doug in a major career change. My thought has been that we will go through these years of transition, and have stable schedules and income again, and then we will travel again.

That does put my travel off for some time.

Strong Belief

Today's Trust 30 prompt asks about a strong belief that you _don't_ share with your closest friends and family. I'm going to ignore that last bit. I share all my strongest beliefs with Doug.

I believe that we can build a future worth living in. I believe that humans can continue to explore, build, learn, and play, indefinitely, while keeping our world healthy.

I write and coach in support of this belief. What else is there to do?

Today

Today's writing prompt is to describe today in one sentence. Here it is:

Today I faced the future and took one step.

May it be that this will describe all of my days!

Anna

Yes, I'll play!

I'm intrigued and excited by the Trust 30 challenge -- 30 days of writing, starting from daily writing prompts. I'm not entirely sure what's going to happen here. I look forward to the exploration.

Interested in learning more? Check this out:



Day 1 prompt for today: You have 15 minutes to live. Set a timer for 15 minutes and tell the story that needs to be told.

Starting Fanurio. 15 minutes, check. Here I go!

The most important thing I have to tell anyone is that you are more than you believe. That's literal -- those things that you believe about yourself are self-created limits. Believe you aren't creative? You've just built a fence between yourself and creativity. Believe you can't find love? You've just built a wall around your heart.

Right now, our world is in crisis. It is a slow crisis, and only some of us see it. That's ok. Your neighbors are doing the best they can. I've recently had the realization that the reason the dominant mode of literature is depressed is that so many of us sense the world going off track, without finding the words to explain it or the courage to face it. I mean, what can we as individuals do about global warming? How can our bodies, so greatly optimized for wandering outside and finding food, maintain themselves in perfect health with hour after hour of sitting? How can our hearts, meant to be in connection, manage as we vastly revise the social structures our ancestors lived in?

I believe we can find answers to all of this. It's something individuals can do, one small step at a time. Start by taking off your blinders. Believe in can instead of can't. Where you feel melancholic, begin searching for the reasons. What is wrong? What now hurts your soul? What can you do about it? Take heart that even small steps make a difference. Scared about global warming? See if you can trim 10% off your driving. Or off your home energy use. It's ok to do what you feel you can.

Or maybe such a small challenge as 10% conservation bores you. Then make a big one! Take on placing windmills in every backyard in your county or solar panels on every rooftop. Look for the projects that excite you. The sweet spot for living as a human is to take on the challenges that are big enough to excite you without being so big they overwhelm you. Take time to listen to yourself every day and find your sweet spot. Live in it. Luxuriate in it! We are capable of so much.

Right now, you may be consuming much that gives temporary relief and yet doesn't touch that underlying melancholy. This is a huge clue that you have been sold. To take again and again what distracts and momentarily calms -- whether that is sex, gambling, new shoes, alcohol, overeating, conspicuous consumption, other drugs, entertainment, even travel, exercise, health care, deodorant and more, many things that are useful in small quantities or with the right attitude becoming wrong when overdone or done compulsively -- to medicate oneself with anything that is not touching the real cause of discontent, that is addiction. We are societally addicted to so many things. Reach inside for the true recognition of the true problem. Solve that, and these things will fall away, step by step.

We need you. We need your truth and your freedom and your health and your happiness.

Best wishes,
Anna Paradox.

Yes, that was 15 minutes.

My score

How did I do on my game?

At this point, it looks like I overshot by one cucumber and a heart of romaine. Not bad! Probably would have been right on target if I hadn't caught cold and only wanted hot food.

We don't stress much about travelling. Doug and I follow Rick Steves' packing methods and fill our bags in only half an hour or so. The Christmas gifts are already gathered together, the housesitter has the keys, and I probably will skip vacuuming before we leave. All easy enough.

Have a very merry Christmas or a happy holiday of your choice!

Anna

Using up Food

We are in the countdown period to our Christmas travel. One of the actions I take to prepare for travel, as a frugal householder, is to eat down our supply of perishable foods.

It creates an interesting challenge. How do we continue to eat well with this extra constraint? How can I use the possibly mismatched items in the fridge to create attractive and balanced meals? How can I ensure we'll finish out the period before travel at the same time as we finish off the perishables?

All in all, it adds a little more fun to cooking to be playing the game of resource management at the same time. At least, for an economically-minded strategic gamer like me.

Adding to the challenge is our ever-growing preference for fresh local foods. These are exactly the kinds of foods most likely to spoil if we leave them behind. So relying on storage foods for our last day or two would be a suboptimal solution. Eating out is also suboptimal this year, although in past years, it has been a pleasant addition to the strategy.

So, here's the game: Empty the fridge in such a way to finish off the veg and fruit the day before we fly. Extra points for especially tasty meals. Buying more before we go incurs no penalty. Leaving produce to spoil or throwing it away does cost points. Extra points also for using items from the pantry in creative ways.

Wonder how high I can score?

Anna

Thinking about Change

Yesterday I read something in the Fifth Discipline Fieldbook that, once I decoded it, helped a lot of other pieces fit together.

Here's the idea in a nutshell: Deep change only lasts when it has three supports. Those three supports are changed ideas, changed actions, and changed systems.

Let's apply this to something concrete. Lots of people go on diets hoping to change their weight. They change the way they eat (their actions) for a period, then stop, and regain the weight. In other words, they continued to think about food the same way. They probably continued to have the same food systems -- ways of shopping, time and planning of meals, who they ate with, etc. So, when the change in actions stopped, the thoughts and the systems took them back to where they used to be.

If this theory holds, then lasting change would come from not only changing what they ate, but also changing what they thought and the systems they have for obtaining food. Here's what a three-pronged change on food might look like:

Thoughts
Before: Food is my comfort and my enemy. After: Food is fuel that I take in enjoyable moderation.

Actions
Before: Eating high fat comfort foods when stressed. After: Eating quality fresh foods lightly when hungry.

Systems
Before: Ignoring food until hungry and then grabbing whatever's easiest. After: Planning meals in advance to sustain health.

I'm a thinker. I have used the coach tools a lot to help people change their thinking. I've been wondering if I can do more to help change actions and systems. That will probably take more support over time.

To change actions and systems sounds complicated. Yet, it happens just one step at a time. And, in the end, the new actions and systems are as easy or easier than the old ones. It is the transition that has a cost.

I like this model of change. I'll be looking for ways to put it into action and help other people put it into action, too.

May you easily move to the thoughts, actions, and systems that support you. May you ask for help when you need it.

Best wishes,
Anna

Earth Day Grace

I would like to give this away.

I have a small women's mastermind group. We end each weekly meeting with a spiritual practice, and take turns setting it up. We leave the definition of spiritual consciously inclusive. Last month, it was my turn, and I asked their help completing a grace to say before meals. I didn't realize we wrote it on Earth Day until later!

So here it is. It's free for all to use without restriction.

Earth Day Grace

Holy, holy, holy.
Holy are we, and holy is the earth on which we walk.
Wholly we live in harmony, giving and receiving.
For the giving and the gift, we give thanks.

That covers it! Just four lines to evoke the meanings and attitudes I wanted to cover in a spiritual grace of no particular tradition.

There are options: I sometimes say "I give thanks" when I want to take more personal responsibility for it. And if I'm feeling more petitionary than assertionary, I say "Wholly may we live in harmony, giving and receiving..."

May you and your food be blessed by this!

Anna

Contributions

I recently worked on the Shelters International website, shelters4all.com. I was very happy to have this project fall into my lap. These folks are doing some good work. It's great to see an innovative, low-cost, and environmentally-friendly solution for housing. The shelters they offer could improve the lives of a lot of people. They also are part of a system that helps restore economies and ecologies. It's a win on every level.

It happened very fast. One day, I had a call from a sister Martha Beck coach. They needed someone who could write, and knew me through the Martha Beck coach forums. I was happy to lend a hand, and we went right to work on improving their website and brochure.

Part of their secret, I think, is that they are willing to act before getting everything right. Although their marketing strategy isn't complete, and they'd still like to improve their materials, and there's a hundred other things they could do before beginning to connect people to homes, they are driving right for the final benefit.

There's a lot to be learned from that. It really is so much better to act than to wait for perfection.

Anyway, I'm glad I was able to contribute. Please do take a look at their website and see the exciting ability they have to put people in homes in new ways. This kind of thing gives me hope for the future. www.shelters4all.com

Fermented Foods

So, I was seeking more kim chee information, and I stumbled into an entire world of fermented foods.

It really tickles me when sudden new vistas of knowledge open up like that. It's as if there are hidden openings into spacious new plains tucked into the corridors of my life. It's pretty cool. (Or worlds in wardrobes. Yeah, I read C.S. Lewis at an impressionable age, too.)

I have not yet had a chance to read Wild Fermentation: The Flavor, Nutrition, and Craft of Live-Culture Foods or Nourishing Traditions: The Cookbook that Challenges Politically Correct Nutrition and the Diet Dictocrats -- and I may not -- but I am charmed that they exist.

What better antidote to excessive fear about germs in food than to deliberately cultivate some?

So there are my Amazon affiliate links, if you want to be entertained by another diversity in food theory. I was.

If you prefer to stick to a simple outline, Michael Pollan has you covered. In seven words: "Eat food. Mostly Plants. Not too much." Or in his somewhat expanded, simple and clear, slim and well-organized book Food Rules -- which covers what you need for $5.

We used to enjoy the little tray of pickles that came with our meal's at Nicholas' Restaurant in Portland. Thinking back, I bet those were naturally fermented rather than brined in vinegar. At first they seemed strange and sour, and they also seemed to meet a need for me.

I bet they were alive!

Anna

Making Peace with Microbes

I heard about Pasteur at far too an impressionable an age. It's been quite a struggle for me to accept that I am constantly in a field of living organisms too small too see. I can be a little fussy about how I wash dishes and trying to sleep outdoors, and stuff like that.

We were never meant to live in a completely sterile environment. We need bacterial help to digest our food, for gosh sakes, and I wouldn't be surprised if our skin is actually healthier when well-colonized. As long as it is the right set of microorganisms, I suppose.

Over the past few years, we've found that kids who grow up in less sterile environments develop fewer allergies. A little exposure to the normal microbes of soil is good for the immune system. We've found that acidophilus improves the function of our gut, and eating fermented foods supplies useful nutrients. The raw food enthusiasts talk mainly about enzymes, which sound nice and sterile -- my guess is that live micro-organisms also contribute to the benefits of that diet. Would we really want to give up risen breads and beer and wine and cheese and yogurt and kim chee and sauerkraut? OK, maybe sauerkraut.

On the other side of the spectrum, our efforts to create sterile environments have created dangerously infectuous disease organisms, like MERSA. That stuff is scary. We've incidentally encouraged anti-biotic resistant tuberculosis, too. For that matter, the widespread use of antibiotics to raise beef is probably a link in recent outbreaks of e. coli and other dangerous contaminants in food products.

It's a mess. And where did it start? With the mistaken assumption that microbes were harmful and best destroyed. It started with us going to war.

My particular efforts at making peace with micro-organisms have started with kim chee. From our first modest experiments with making Korean-style fermented cabbage at home, kim chee has grown to become one of our staples. I make another batch whenever we run out.

Kim chee demonstrates that the environment we live is in alive. I don't add the culture. The Chinese cabbage fizzes after a day or two, anyway. And it is good.

I still want my house to be clean. And I am slowly shifting my focus from a war against an invisible, omnipresent enemy, to creating a healthful, living environment.

Doesn't that feel better?

Reading Restores Me

I added "Read three times" to my weekly practices for this year. I'm seeing a lot of benefit from that. I'm enjoying seeing my stack of unread books shrink. I'm learning new things. I have had an easier time finding books to review for my newsletter, Creating Space. And I am gradually feeling more rested.

Reading restores me. I've always loved it. Somehow, in the months -- or years? -- before I added it to my weekly practices again, I had lost the habit of taking time to read. I would read for work, and I'd read a few select authors whenever they brought out a new book. I was hardly ever expanding my circle of authors or taking a chance on a risky book. Somehow, I started thinking of reading as frivolous and not taking the time to do it.

It has been a huge relief to make reading a practice and begin doing it regularly. It's like I didn't know I was cutting myself off from oxygen. It was a mistake to think of reading as a low-priority use of my time. I remember exactly who told me "You need to do something, not just read." They were wrong.

At least for me, reading counts as doing something. Quite possibly, for them, reading wasn't nourishing. For me, it's like water in the desert.

What activity nourishes you? Have you been making time for it? I wish you the knowledge of what you need and the joy of doing it.

Anna