I am a Poser!

 

I am a poser. I’ve studied yoga and now Pilates for a combined 20 years. The more I study, the more I start to under the concept of practice and am humbled by the body of work that require precision, repetition and respect.

I am a poser. I have discovered that the repetition brings me comfort. I realize that the practice gives me the illusion of mastery, while humbling me to my personal limitations.

I am a poser… On the other side of the definition. I wonder what in my life is illusion… the other darker poser. What’s real or veneer? And like to consider that we are all posers, a Janus (albeit a friendly one) to some degree.

I have been a yoga poser for a while. I am a relatively new Pilates Poser. I came to Pilates two years ago as a sick woman. I was gently embraced by a beautiful instructor (Kristin) through who’s tenderness and precision helped me rediscovered myself.

Here’s the back story….

One day three years ago, I was crippled with painful peripheral neuropathy. Meaning I had severe pain in my hands and feet. My beautiful stiletto heels were now the enemy and I could barely open a door knob without winching. I was starting to believe that I was entering the “SJGR” (sh*t just got real) stage of life when you start to decline in the sad part of life. The sad part is one that limits your mobility and is starts to evolve around pain, pain mitigation, doctors, medications and the overarching bad mood associated with pain (I learned this is why many older people seem cranky; they hurt.. so be nice. It is horrible to feel bad all the time). Through a series of well-meaning friends and recommendations, I broke free of the doctor-medicine-pain cycle. My diagnosis went from Multiple Sclerosis to Lupus, RA and then the vague Fibromyalgia. Then something amazing happened, I found a holistic physician who tested me for a wide range of maladies and then the puzzle started to come together. I had a series of food allergies and intolerances and I had off-the-charts levels of aspartame in my system. It appears I was being not-so-slowly poisoned by my quest for weight loss and sugar control. The prescription was rather basic: natural foods only. Then there was the elimination of wheat, wheat gluten, dairy, sugar, white flour and anything processed. Seems a bit extreme, yet when you are getting progressively sicker; you will try the treatment. I was warned that the first several weeks would be hard. It is compared to a detox. They were right. The first 2 weeks, I felt like I had the flu. My joints hurt. My head hurt. I was tired. Then around day 15, when I was ready to quit; I felt amazing. I woke up feeling renewed. My feet and hands hurt, but they did not throb. My headache dissipated and my mood was happy (not completely giddy) but much more palpable than feel constantly bitchy (cite: nasty resting bitch face).

At the cornerstone of my comeback was Pilates. When your feet and hands hurt you stop doing things that might aggravate the condition, including my beloved yoga. You stop exercising. You use movement with caution, I was continually anxious that my fingers would seize up while typing. Now this affects how I make my living, my fingers would hurt while I typed. I could not feel the tips, yet pain would radiate through my hands and arms. This was incredibly difficult for me. I was an elite athlete in my youth. Exercise and training is part of my DNA and discipline. I work out, but not anymore. Damn you, SJGR!  Through research and conversation, I found Pilates does not depend on verticality. It employs a variety of non-load bearing equipment: reformer, Cadillac, chair, barrel that give you full range of motion workouts without extremity stress. My quest for a Pilates experience became borderline religious. It healed me. I was looking for a miracle and not afraid to do the work. I came to my instruction journey bloated, overweight, sore and rigid. I was also afraid. Was this the beginning of the end? SJGR, again and again. Was it time to accept it, or fight. Fight for strength, courage and to regain physical ability. I wanted to become a poser. I desperately wanted my flexibility back. I wanted exercise. I wanted to be vertical.  

My journey started in private. Private sessions to focus on the basics. Focus on my ability not inability to move. I embraced my instruction, learned to breath in rhythm of the motion and equipment, allowed the equipment to support me and regained trust in myself. It was a means to gain ballast, balance and became a life mantra.

Slowly the weight started to melt, my range of motion increased and my confidence started to gain positive momentum. The equipment was not intimating it became a gentle net of support. I was kindly supported with Kristin’s expert instruction and lovingly encouraged to push my sore body. I discovered a renewed resiliency.

Yes, I’m now a poser. I was all ready to join the SJGR club, to acquiesce being on the decline. It wasn’t my age that was making me sick.  I was made ill through the excesses of a successful modern life.. too much, too many chemicals, not enough fresh, clean food. I got better through a complete food overhaul and by embracing Pilates.

Today, I am vertical: very, very vertical. I have excellent range of motion and walk an average of 7 miles daily. This summer I am travelling Europe as part of the Remote Year program. In each city, I seek out private Pilates studios to continue to study. It has become my foundation to a highly dynamic program.

 In Belgrade, I was treated to an advanced studio with focus on personalized progression. In my first session, I stopped with an exercise prior to the queue. I did eight repetitions. The instructor in her abrupt manner (for the full effect – muster your best Eastern European accent) called me out with, ‘there’s nothing wrong with your body, you need to do a few more..’. Initially I was startled and a tad pissed off. Then I realized she did not know my journey, she only saw me today. I was holding back, because of my own fear not because of my ability. She saw someone strong. It was then that I realized this was a gift. I am capable. I am still an athlete. Tears welled in my ears and do every time I think of this moment.  At this very moment, I knew I wasn’t sick any more. Fuck the SJGR club. At this moment, I had the strength, confidence and mettle of the 16 year old skater I was that just landed her first flawless double axel. It was and still feels awesome.  I was back. I was fucking back.

Yes, I am a poser. Now that I’m In Lisbon (new month/new city), my instructor started our relationship with an evaluation. Through her 12 point program, I ranked highest in 9 areas with 3 requiring improvement (damn you, side plank). She is a former professional classical ballet dancer that moves effortless through space with a gliding natural gait. I think she levitates.  Her approach is stylistic with an elegant approach but not lacking in strength. Her studio is perched atop a narrow cobblestone street in old town Lisbon. It is a workout to get there and so worth the effort.

As a newly minted and re-focused poser.. I’m finding that I will seek out those who will help me grow my practice, enhance my form. There is no competitive Pilates. It’s all about you and your journey. There is no gold medal. This is about a personal path. It’s about skill building, discipline, vitality and individual growth. This is not something you can buy, you must earn it. There is something vastly satisfying in individual accomplishment. No one needs to know my journey. I guess you do now. You will not see pictures of me in my finest lululemon garb doing planks (but if I could master the side plank, then maybe I’d entertain showing off) on the Portugal cliffs. But I am not ready for the SJGR club. Never ever, ever give up! Own your destiny.. Strike a pose…

 P.S… I’m toying with the idea of writing about my entire journey.. diagnosis, minimalism, regaining equilibrium post-divorce, post- corporate career and facing the downside of being middle aged. It’s a very exciting and challenging time like reverse teen years. Let me know if you think that would be interesting too. I’m not looking to do a vanity piece, more of an instruction manual, because I feel like I’m discovering this on my own. There are no role models, we’re inventing this as we’re going! It could be fun.

Making Work Great Again… in Lisbon

 

Lisbon Cityscape

Making Work Great Again… in Lisbon

Starting month 2 brings an assortment of new experiences and challenges. Unfortunately, the shiny patina of a new experience starts to wear off. The seemingly predictable rhythm of the every day starts to set in, but to really throw you off and keep you paying attention, you change locations. We packed up the whole gypsy caravan and moved from Belgrade to Lisbon. With this there’s a litany of detail that causes you to engage way past your comfort zone. The basic changes of even knowing where you are in relation to others or the locale becomes exaggerated, there’s new keys and new apartment, new trash rules and a new grocery store to navigate. Quick side trip: For those of you that know the detailed layout of your local Publix (or Kroger, Safeway) there’s something that’s extremely telling on how people live by the way their grocery store is laid out. Lisbon is no exception. You notice a sweeping array of fresh fruit, vegetables and then there’s the cod bunker (yes, cod..the fish) These folks are sold on the power of salted cod. This display takes up a large portion of real estate between the melons and meat. Cod.. it’s a huge part of Portuguese cuisine and they love it. Love it or hate it, it’s a dominate force. Oh, and I’m liking it.

Then there’s the streets. The old town section is laid out in a crazy random maze, that is actually planned chaos. The Moors used this as a tactic to make it almost impossible for anyone invading to make a straight shot to the castle. It is a bona fide design point, as I am told. The streets are meticulous covered in limestone cobblestone that contingent on where you are in town can be literally peppered with basalt (black stone) laid out in the most captivating and intricate designs. The cityscape can be vertical in places adding to a challenging walk. It’s not unusual to have a stepped or terraced feature in a sidewalk to support navigating your daily walk. Yes.. It is a vertical city, giving your glutes an amazing workout. Be prepared, this is a five-star-sensible-shoe town. Think mountain goat precision balancing acts. Yet you start to notice that local women do navigate in high heels and even higher wedges..very impressive!   

The first day of my work commute, one of Lisbon’s famous yellow trolley traversed the street right as I turned the corner to walk up the street. It looked like a movie scene or an animated postcard that I just happened to witness. I did stop just to take it all in.. the sights, the trolley sounds, the narrowness of the streets and people just going about their everyday. This was also my new everyday. WOW! thank you, Remote Year.  

Realizing that  basic living logistical challenges is the cost of changing locations, it elevates you about two levels . While stretching, you get to absorb, breath it in and allow yourself to experience the sheer panic and beauty of a change of venue. It makes you feel alive. It energizes your creativity. You see new things with tired eyes and suddenly it’s effervescent.

Lisbon’s history and culture are deep and as American’s we have had exposure to the great discoveries of Prince Henry the Navigator and the explorations of Vasco de Gama. Portuguese is the 6th most spoken language in the world. There is a respectful beauty of the old city’s cityscape: tiled buildings, red clay tiled roofs, punctuated with the omnipresent cobblestones, street art, musical interludes of traditional Fado and lyrical guitars. This is a seriously magical place.

Most tourists stay a week, checking off their Bucket List items. When you stay longer, you take time to visit with your local barista (Mine is originally from Ireland and she makes an extraordinary Almond milk latte), buy cherries from a local grocery at the bottom of your terrace and take a long walk after dinner because there’s so much to see and do. You start to use words like terrace, cobblestone and trolley on a regular basis. Somehow there’s a funky juxtaposition of this beautiful simpler life overlaid with the virtual nature of digital working; technology has enhanced my life.

Yes, there can be pangs of extreme Heimweh… of home sickness. I am missing my Florida life. I miss my beautiful daughter and friends.  A benefit of a digital life is everyone is a simple keystroke away. It’s very easy to send them digital postcards, ensuring that they are part of this precious and precarious journey…real-time. By the way, I ate grilled Sardines for my Sunday dinner while watching the world beach soccer championships (yes, this is a real thing.. go figure!) while sipping a particularly crisp vino verde on the most incredible beach, Nazare.. where you can watch the sunset over the Atlantic (I’ll give you Floridians a moment to process)

Wish y’all were here too.. Smile– – I’m determined to Make Work Great Again.. one blog post at a time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy 4th of July from Lisbon

 

As an American temporarily living outside the country, the thought of celebrating 4th of July is a bit melancholic… I love the 4th.. it’s one of my favorite holidays. It’s the quintessential lazy day. There are no presents required, usually entailing a party and there just might be some BBQ (OK.. maybe fried chicken, fried okra and potato salad)  involved. It’s a soft national holiday, perhaps no work and it ends with a full concert (preferably the Boston Pops.. and the 1812 Overture.. it’s the cannons and carillon and when the last cannon goes off) and a brilliant display of fireworks (note: my love is of choreographed fireworks displays, not firecrackers or errant bottle rockets that we all know terrify dogs and hurt returning veterans, be smart…OK?) illuminates the night sky. It is dazzling and it is oh, so American. Fireworks !!! Oh, and everyone in America celebrates it. It’s one of the few holidays we have that are inclusive of our entire citizenry. This year July 4 is a normal weekday in Lisbon.. no red-white-blue bunting, perhaps a picnic, but no patriotic displays. Perhaps that’s perfect punctuation for our country today. America’s in a funk too..

I’m wondering if this year marks the official start of America’s midlife crisis; that delightful time when you realize that you are not living up to you perceived potential, your life is good but lackluster, your prospects are limited and perhaps your cutest and thinnest years are past (oops, sorry.. that’s me) .. Humm, America… so what did you do..? You bought a seemingly shiny sportscar that you think makes you look cool and rich. The interesting thing about it is you don’t, we’d don’t and it’s time to take a good long look in our societal mirror and make some improvements. Yes.. we, the people…

If the premise is to Make America Great Again… perhaps America needs a bit of a midlife make over:  go on a diet, eliminate the bloat, reexamine your values and determine what it is that you want to be when you grow up. We have had an excellent run. It seems like we’re arching on the trendline and starting to decline. As a member of the Boomer generation, I and we all know what this means. Our supposed way of life is compromised, retirement was pending and we’re not as relevant as we think we should be. There’s an interesting thing that happens when you don’t stay hungry, the world starts catching up and in our case, we are being eclipsed. Our way is no longer the preferred way, business and much of manufacturing has morphed into an international digital culture. If you are not current, you are toast. After spending last month in Belgrade, I realized that America needs to get out of her funk. We have not had a war on our soil for centuries (was it the War of 1812?). Our cities have not been bombed, except for Sept 11. Our shores are safe. Instead of celebrating our good fortune, we have become isolated, xenophobic and narrow minded. Oh and I’m finding the world doesn’t care about us as much as we think they do. They care when we act stupid, bully, nation build, nation destroy and subvert their ways. There was a time when most of the world wanted what America had. This is no longer the case, sometimes they see our society as shallow, vapid and completely consumer consumption and work driven.  They see and hear that we want a wall put up to keep the Mexicans out (Ask any German about the effects of a walled society). Our problems are big (cite healthcare, new job creation, et al) and  symbolic landscaping walls aren’t the start of the remedy. It’s décor, when we need our foundation fixed. We need some serious help and I’m betting on America. We can do this.

The premise of our America is amazing. We’re a patchwork of diversity that sometimes works, sometimes resists and always surprises. We are in desperate need of a middle-aged makeover, NOT gratuitous plastic surgery and certainly not décor. We must do the big work the kind of work that starts with our core values coupled with slow and steady improvement. We all must be rowing in the same direction toward the same goals. This is the kind of work that you must earn, not buy and we must do it together. We are slow, fat and privileged. Saying Make America Great Again is repeating a marketing slogan, it does not even come close to the level of complexity, commitment and work required to regain our world stature. No one is going to give it to us. We, the people must do it.

On this 4th of July, I ask you: Are you willing to do the work?

 From Lisbon.. Wishing y’all a wonderful 4th.  Enjoy your friends, family, good food and the fireworks displays ! We’re going to have a lot of work to do to turn this sideshow around. I hope you’re up to it.

 As Kate Smith used to belt out in the World War II era… God Bless America, my home sweet home.. (yes, this is very dated..but you MUST view it.)