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On Yoga

August 27, 2010 in Admiring, Being, Practicing, Spotlighting by Colleen | 3 comments

As many of you know, from this space and my life in the physical world, I practice yoga.  What initially began as neat way to get exercise has become a deeply invigorating physical and spiritual practice.  By God’s grace, I have the privilege to be led through asanas that bring me closer to what I believe is most important in this world: body, mind, and spirit connecting and strengthening, not just within me, but to human consciousness, and all that lives, breathes, and moves.  As a result, I have changed.  I am more integrated, physically stronger yet softer, more understanding, caring, and connected.  I still have a long way to go, but the journey, with yoga, is far more joyous and centered.

At the center of this is Shiva Rea.  I have had other teachers, but none has inspired me or encouraged me to continue as she has (despite never having met!).  Were it not for the discovery of the brilliant Yoga Shakti DVD more than five years ago, I don’t know that I would still be practicing.  It’s not only Shiva’s way of teaching, of leading, but the steady evolution of her yoga, rooted in the ebb and flow of life, not to mention those fabulous matrices that allow me to mix it up according to my needs and time.

These four DVDs are my favorites and are the foundation of my practice.  They are challenging, fun, beautiful, and as ever changing as I am.  Difficult one day, a breeze the next, they enable me to be exactly where I am and embrace it.

As for each video – Yoga Shakti is closest to what I would call a traditional vinyasa practice.  I think, too, if you are new to yoga, it is the best place to start, as she offers some basic postures and forms.  As you progress, it can be very challenging, too.  Even after more than five years, I can, by no means, complete all the postures as shown.  Shiva is strong and incredibly flexible!  My goal is to have this video mastered in 2013.  The body and mind open slowly, over time.

Trance Dance – I’ve written about this before, and my love for it is simple.  Dance!  Invigorating, fluid, sacred, and totally fun!

Daily Energy – I was so jazzed when she made this DVD!  Sometimes I don’t have a lot of time.  With this video, I can have a complete practice in as little as twenty minutes, which is pretty awesome.  Since it also has a yoga matrix, I can make it a whole lot longer, add some core work, forward bends, and a complete shavasana, too.

Creative Core + Upper Body – Though the practice is centered around 108 push-ups (not all at once – thank goodness!), it is definitely not just for the upper body.  The legs and core get a terrific workout, too.  Speaking of the core – in all of the DVDs except Trance, she offers core cultivation in very creative and fun ways.   I’d never seen or felt anything like it – very good!  Oh, and this one is also pretty short, running at 35 minutes.

Sleepy

August 4, 2010 in Being, Gardening and Nature by Colleen | 1 comment

It is Wednesday, and I cannot seem to wake up.  Not that it being Wednesday has anything to do with it.  I was tired yesterday, too.  I actually fell asleep while listening to the radio, fully upright, in a chair.  The minutes between 3:30 and 4:00 lost to a vortex of slumber.  That is usually a hubster move.  Bless his gigantic heart, that handsome fella can sleep anywhere, anytime.  I tend to be more of the Goldilocks variety, so it came as quite a surprise to me.

It’s dahlia time in the garden, beautiful dahlias – such marvelously constructed flowers.  And August.  How is it August already?  Maybe I’ve slept for longer than I recall.  Maybe I haven’t been awake for a long time.  Do you ever feel that way?  Or maybe the opposite?  Sometimes I wonder if, on those days when I am thoroughly spent by 8:00, and Charlie Rose, no matter how fascinating the guest, seems an impossibility, I’ve been so very awake, so hyper aware that my senses cannot take one more bit of noticing, feeling, smelling and collapse blissfully onto my pillow.  Is that it?  I wish I knew.  I am my own mystery, gentle readers, truly.

Sure, there are things I know about myself, but so much more that I can’t quite put my finger on, so much that keeps me wondering.  In some ways I like it, but in others, I just want some answers or a bit of clarity.  Maybe an impressionistic painting.  Who is going to paint a Van Gogh of my life?  A good question to ponder on a sleepy Wednesday.

What question would you like answered?

The Weekend Recollected

July 19, 2010 in Being, Eating, Reading by Colleen | 1 comment

Hello Monday.

It was a terrific weekend here.  One of those lovelies filled with everything and nothing: looking at electric pianos (we’re both going to learn), riding bikes to a pizza place we hadn’t tried before (Dove Vivi – very good), washing clothes, doing chores, lolling about the house reading Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse. Good golly miss molly! Normally I am a one book at a time kind of reader, zipping straight through, but I just can’t do it with her.  The text is so dense.  After about ten pages, I have to switch to something else (it was Astrid and Veronika, but now I’ve finished that and need something else, something breezy and light) out of fear of literary overload.  It is a good book though, the characters and story so rich and full of everything: life, sorrow, joy, art, nature, food...

The hubster’s birthday is Wednesday, another year more handsome and wonderful, I say!  The photo represents his birthday dinner a few days early, a slow sunny Sunday spent in the kitchen.  I felt of another era: barefoot, singing, with a messy apron tied tightly about my middle.  I made lemonade, barbecue sauce, marinated and slow roasted ribs (boneless – no mess!), boiled and dressed potatoes, too.   Talk about the epitome of summer!  We followed all of this with chocolate cupcakes, of course, because it certainly wouldn’t be a Gregory Cooper birthday celebration without something chocolate, no way, no how.  For some reason I didn’t take a picture of them, but I assure you of their goodness.  Anything for my sweetie.  He works so hard and is essential to what makes my life the glorious one that it is.  I love you, Buddy.

I also played with my watercolors a little, making waves and trees that I’ll scan for your viewing pleasure one of these days.  I am definitely growing more confident with a brush.  I’m also thinking about another quilt, one for the guest room.  I’ve got a stack of pink and green fabrics that I think would be rather nice together.

Oh, and Lori – don’t fret about the quilt making!  Just do it, seriously, start wherever you like.  I am a wonky sewer, too.  My seams never seem to be very straight, and I always mess something up.  Oops is a favorite word of mine!  As a matter of fact, after thinking I did a pretty good job of sewing on my binding, I learned that I did it wrong.  Next time I’ll go straight to the You Tube before reading a description over and over again and thinking, “Yah, I know what I’m doing.”  It looks good, at least, certainly not professional, but good.

There you have it, another weekend in Portland Paradise.  Be well, everyone.

Visioneers

July 9, 2010 in Being, Spotlighting, Watching by Colleen | No comments

I read somewhere recently that the purpose of school is to make people learn to conform.   I have to admit that a tight knot formed in my belly upon reading it.  Fighting words.  School is so much more.  Then I thought a bit more about it and found myself conforming to whomever’s idea it was.  Sit here, be nice, 2+2=4, oh, and you better agree with me.  I’ve spent a lot of my life agreeing with people.  Sometimes even when I really don’t.  It is easier and kinder and usually feels right.  What about those times when it doesn’t?  When I quit the charade and speak my mind?  It surprises people and I don’t get invited back to that cool clique on the playground.  Someone I used to know called it my hard nugget.  “See, you’re petite, and have such a sweet smile, and then POW! out comes the hard nugget.”

I would rather be alone than not be me.  It’s that simple.  Which is a rather roundabout way of getting to Visioneers, the topic of today’s spotlight.  It is a weird and wacky black comedy about the power of corporate America to infiltrate our lives (and the government), and one man’s struggle to discover his authentic self, no matter the cost.

When the number of people exploding from some mystery ailment drastically increases, Visioneer George Washington Winsterhammerman (played by Zach Galifianakis of The Hangover fame) begins to worry.  He’s got the classic symptoms – insomnia, loss of interest in sex, binge eating and, most frightening of all – he still dreams.

I really liked this movie.  First off, in the aforementioned wacky way, it totally made me laugh.  People at the company where George works  flip each other off and say, “Jeffers Morning” to greet each other.  The insignia for the company is this same gesture (see it there in the poster?).  They are terrified by chaos, but they call it “chay-os.”  They are an uber efficient and detached group of conformists, with an extreme terror of exploding.   Especially George.

Yet there is a certain pleasure in his work, a connection with his level four boss, Charisma.  She calls and is friendly, human even.  She attaches sticky notes with smiley faces to his work.  But, when she gets fired and disappears, George starts to unravel and descend into chay-os.  His already troubled marriage takes a turn; his weird, drop-out brother starts to make sense, and his dreams intensify.  Is he going to explode?  It was terribly worthwhile to find out.

This is It…

June 8, 2010 in Being, Inspiring, Learning, Thinking, Writing by Colleen | 5 comments

Well friends, I have what is surely the last of the peony photos this year and a broken record alert!  Aren’t they pretty?  Aren’t they pretty?  Well they are, and these two smell quite lovely, too.  Yes, yes they do.  We also managed to get two dry days in a row to enjoy them, but the clouds are rolling in, and I’m pretty sure that means Mr. Rain will be up to his old tricks in no time, which is okay.  The little break of sun was enough to tide me over until next time.

I have no clever segue way to what comes next.  I’ve been thinking a lot about what it is that I want and how to get it.  I came to a conclusion that probably should have been obvious, but wasn’t, but now that I’ve made it, I feel as though I’ve been hit over the head with a hammer in a Bugs Bunny cartoon.  Yet, instead of stars, I am seeing what I do with greater clarity than ever before.

I have never called myself a writer.  I have always said, “I’ve written a book,” or “I’ write a blog.”  In some ways, I didn’t want to pigeon-hole myself in the “I am not what I do” way because I feel I am so much more than a single word.  I also didn’t think I deserved the title of Writer without being published.  Yet, in this way, I believe I have been selling myself short, for who will believe I am a writer, especially one who is worthy of publication, if I don’t?  It also diminished my work, made it less important.  Well, dang it, it IS important, even if only to me.

So, a change.  A “this is it” moment:  I, Colleen Sohn, am a writer.  Gosh, I got weepy typing that last sentence.  I am a writer.  I wrote a novel that I hope to get published one day.  I write a blog.  I write poems.  I dream up worlds.  Words dance in my mind and through my finger tips.  They are alive, just like me and you.

That felt good.  Thanks for reading.  I love sharing my writing with you!

A New Path

June 2, 2010 in Being, Exploring, Gardening and Nature, Learning by Colleen | 2 comments

Einstein famously said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results.  This path and the surrounding area are a perfect example of his definition.  For the first eight years in our house, the hubster and I weeded and weeded it (I even spent a few weeks digging up ALL of the weeds, only to have the majority return the next year – heartbreaker), planted grass seed, watered, fertilized, and mowed, but got the same result.  More weeds, more ugly, more mowing, and a whole lotta cursing.

Then, only after being, ostensibly, whacked over the head by a giant imaginary hoe, we got sane and tried something new.  We planted a tree and two yellow flowering currants (friends of the birds and bees!), followed by a whopping sixty kinnikinnick plants.  Slowly but surely, the area and our feelings for it began to transform.  There was an increasing amount of green and shade.  We no longer had to fertilize, water, or mow, leaving more time for more fruitful projects.

This included moving some pieces of stone from another spot in the garden and watching a path emerge (though it is still a little wobbly).  Then there were more new ideas.  The placement of stumps, the moving of hostas, and the purchase and planting of more than a dozen native plants: strawberries, huckleberries, and bitter cherry trees.  No longer an eye sore, it is a pleasure to gaze upon it, as I often do now, from a perch in the bedroom.  I look at it and feel grateful for the shade, the clean, cool air wafting through the window, the sweet berries I’ll eat one day, and the blessed sanity of changing one’s path.

Zippy Chocolate Cake with Cherry Sauce

March 29, 2010 in Being, Cooking and Baking, Eating, Learning, Thinking by Colleen | 3 comments

Another, equally satisfying title to this post could be Yum, or Perfection.  Indeedy.  Chocolate and Cherries are hard to beat.  Something else that is hard to beat is sensibility.  If you’ve been reading for a while, you know how I wrestle with sugar, or, at least, how I have wrestled with it.  I am bad, weak, unhealthy, (insert other appropriate adjective), for eating the stuff.  I spent a lot of time on it, A LOT.  Many hours that, no doubt, added up to days of my life fretting about my consumption of sugar and how I really needed to let it go and be a better, stronger person.  Heavens to mergatroid was it ever taxing, and to what end?  Did I ever actually stop eating sugar?  Not for any extended period of time.  Did I ever feel better about myself for being my own persona non grata every time I consumed it?  Certainly not.  It was just ugly self-flagellation.

So now, in hopes of being kinder and gentler to my whole self, not just the parts that I’ve idealized, I’m going to eat it and do my darndest not to criticize or second guess myself for it.  If I so desire, I’m going to bake a cake, have a slice, and REALLY enjoy it (well, if it tastes good – I do have standards).  I don’t want to halfway enjoy it while simultaneously beating myself up for not being strong enough to say no or whatever.  I am laughing at myself as I type this!  How silly and schizophrenic I have been.  Life is meant to be enjoyed.

So, to the cake.  I call it zippy because it comes together very quickly and the sauce cooks while the cake bakes, so you can eat it warm from the oven.  I love that – impatience and deliciousness in one go.  I can’t remember where I first saw a recipe like this, maybe the Moosewood Cookbook?  It is vegan, moist, and delicious.  And, since this is the kind of gal I have become, I used whole wheat flour in place of some of the all purpose.  If I can make it a little healthier while still being utterly yummy, I’m going for it.

Zippy Chocolate Cake

1 cup whole wheat flour

1/2 cup all purpose flour

1/3 cup cocoa powder

1/2 cup sugar (So sorry!  I left this out the first time.)

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/3 cup vegetable oil

1 cup cold water or coffee

2 teaspoons vanilla

2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar

Preheat oven to 375.  Grease an 8″ square pan.  Sift dry ingredients together in a large bowl.  Combine wet ingredients.  Mix wet and dry together quickly until smooth.  Pour into prepared pan.  Bake 25 – 30 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean.  If you use the whole wheat flour, this may take longer.  It’s okay.

Serve plain or with fruit sauce (raspberry, peach, blueberry, strawberry, or plum would be good, too!).  I used my recipe included with pancakes, here.  It is also good frosted or sprinkled with powdered sugar, and eaten out of hand.

Enjoy!

Cloudy Monday

March 22, 2010 in Being, Thinking, Writing by Colleen | 6 comments

When I was a teacher and a student approached me, bemoaning the fact they didn’t know how to start a particular essay, I would say, “Just begin.  Write a sentence, a paragraph, the same silly word over and over again, see what happens.”  I find that I am having to take my own advice today.  I don’t know quite what to say.  Lost..Lost. Lost..Lost.  Sad. Sad. Sad..Sad.  Disappointed.  Disappointed.  Disappointed.

And now I begin.  I feel lost.  I don’t know what to do about my life, and, in particular, my writing.  The other day, I was in the car with the hubster; I do not even recall what the conversation was about, and he said, rather matter of factly, “You’re not writing a second book.”  My stomach lurched.  “I’m not?”  Am I?  I don’t know.  I haven’t touched it in a year.  I think about it every day.  The characters do new and surprising things,  they change their minds, increase in boldness, but I don’t write a single word of it down.  Sometimes I would like to blame it on this space here and my desire to keep it going, but I really don’t know that it is true.  If I really wanted to write, I’d do it.  I’d stay up late (at least for this granny), like I did with my first book, bleary eyed and enthusiastic and feel the words flow from my fingertips.  Then, just when I couldn’t do any more, I’d watch Craig Ferguson before retreating downstairs and cuddling with the hubster.

I feel sad that I want so much more than I have, especially when I have so very much.  I want my body to look like the idealized version of it that is in my head.  I want to be a famous and financially independent novelist (Reading is Sexy!) who turns her awesome book into an Oscar winning screenplay.  When I win, I want to stand on stage, in the aforementioned perfect body of my imagination, wearing a stunning dress that Tom Ford designed just for me, tell the hubster he is BETTER than sliced bread and George Clooney and sing the praises of believing in your dreams.

I am disappointed that I have sent out over thirty letters to agents and publishers and only had one even remotely interested in representing me.  I am disappointed that I haven’t had the heart to send out a letter since December.  I am disappointed that it always seems I can see my dreams, smell them even, they are so close, yet impossibly out of reach.  I am disappointed for sharing this with you.  I always meant for this to be a positive and uplifting place, full of possibility and hope, but the truth is, I truly feel lost, sad, and disappointed.

Maybe there is, as appears in the photo, a silver lining.  Maybe, I just  need to make a clearing (I’ve heard this a lot lately) for whatever it is that I am supposed to say, be, do, or feel.  Maybe, I need to be okay with not having answers, being sad, and just wondering.  Maybe, just maybe…

Waterworks

March 9, 2010 in Being, Feeling by Colleen | 4 comments

My blogger friend Lori asked me what I thought of the Oscars.  The answer, as seen in in this slightly outdated photo of me: friends, I cried.

First, I cried at all the excitement and hope of the people in attendance, the fans waiting for a glimpse of a star.  Then of course, it was the dresses, the beautifully draped fabrics, shimmering, violet, blue, red, and gold.  Then it was the winners (none of them disappointments, for once) and their heartfelt speeches.  I kept exclaiming, aloud to myself, “That’s so nice!” and “How sweet!”  Then it was the fact that a woman won best director for the first time in history yet did not make it about that but rather the film and the infinitely brave people who place themselves in harm’s way every single day, at home and abroad.  There was no shortage of tears.  Thank goodness I was alone, for a guest might not have known what to do with Little Miss Waterworks.  Heck, I’m a little weepy as I type this, in memory, and the fact that the sound track to Out of Africa is playing in the background, and that, like so much music, always gets to me.

In all honesty, I cry a lot, for all manner of reasons:  joy, kindness, love, cruelty, injustice, fear, longing, and, sometimes, I honestly couldn’t tell you why.  The tears just come.  I used to be embarrassed by this fact, which was made worse by someone exclaiming, and not in a friendly way, “You cry at the drop of a hat!”  But in his infinite love and understanding, and my great privilege, the hubster told me it was such a gift, to feel so openly and honestly.  I just can’t help myself, nor do I want to.

I am waking up, realizing this isn’t very specific to the actual Oscars, besides the crying, so a list:

* I liked the Neil Patrick Harris opener, but not because I like numbers like this, I just like him.  He’s got gusto and makes me laugh.

* Alec and Steve were a little off in the opening but came into their own.  I especially liked their hotel room scene.

* I really liked the dancing to the music of the best original score nominees.

* I liked the tribute to John Hughes, felt a little confused by the horror tribute (Jaws is horror?), and very sad when I remembered everyone who died, especially Brittany Murphy.

*As I stated earlier, for the first time I can remember, I wasn’t disappointed by any of the winners, so that was nice.

Songs for Grieving

February 12, 2010 in Being, Listening, Remembering, Spotlighting by Colleen | No comments

There’s been a lot of dying happening in the world lately, earth quake victims in Haiti, avalanche victims in Afghanistan, and on a more personal level, a dear, sweet neighbor and a kindly mother-in-law (my cousin Allie’s).  When someone dies, particularly someone I have known personally, it always creates a flood of memories of  other endings, not necessarily passings into the great hereafter, but of broken friendships and hearts, dreams and hopes dashed, too.

In the past, I would suffer these rushes of memory like one would an awful interloper, with little degree of kindness or patience.  I do not want to feel melancholy, for it is not the desired state, happiness, always happiness!  However, now, I have come to a new place about grief and memory, or any feeling really.  It arises naturally and will pass, too.  There is no need to fret and even a possibility of enjoyment.

Like thinking of the first person I remember dying, my Great Grandpa Briggs.  He was a silent one, so much so that I scarcely have a memory of him speaking, but I do remember his mischievous smile, his cigar smoking, and the fact that he walked me to the Western Motor Lodge near his home to buy me candy.  Or my Great Aunt Mary, there’s so much I remember about her: a kind voice, boundless generosity, the deepest faith I have ever known, mad crochet skills, the papery softness of her hands, and her beautiful penmanship.  Though I feel a little misty thinking about the two of them, these memories are small gifts of their continued presence in my life.

With all of this in mind, I crafted a playlist, one perfectly suited for honoring my time with grief, like curiously watching a stream from on high, the ebb, flow, and rush.  It is long, but not overly so, with a bit of sunshine at the end.

Nico – “These Days”

Neil Young – “The Old Laughing Lady”

My Morning Jacket – “Knot Comes Loose”

U2 – “Scarlet”

Sting – “Fragile”

Sinead O’Connor – “I am Stretched on Your Grave”

The Rolling Stones – “As Tears Go By”

Philip Aaberg – “Cinema Paradiso”

Peter Gabriel – “I Grieve”

Nina Simone – “I Loves You, Porgy”

Willie Nelson – “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain”

Feist – “The Limit to Your Love”

Eurythmics – “This City Never Sleeps”

Elvis – “Love Me Tender”

Elton John – “Goodbye”

The Dream Academy – “Life in a Northern Town”

Crosby, Stills, and Nash – “Helplessly Hoping”

The Counting Crows – “Sullivan Street”

Coldplay – “Sparks”

Bombay Dub Orchestra – “Sonata”

Bob Dylan – “Tomorrow is a Long Time”

Bjork – “Come to Me”

Bill Withers – “Ain’t No Sunshine”

The Beatles – “Blackbird”

Amy Winehouse – “Love is a Losing Game”

Tom Waits – “San Diego Serenade”

Tori Amos – “China”

Genesis – “It’s Gonna Get Better”

Shawn Colvin – “Ricochet in Time”

The Talking Heads – “This Must Be the Place”

The Who – “Love Reign O’er Me”

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