The Blog I'm Not Writing

Department Of Laughing Out Loud, So Loud,
MH Comes Into My Office To See What’s Going On

Dateline:  Monday afternoon.  Moiself  is in my office, checking on the yogainternational.com site to see what routine I feel like doing.  Yogainternational is an online yoga site, where for a membership fee   [1] you can access their extensive library of recorded yoga classes, meditation resources, documentaries and films, and wellness articles.

I joined for the yoga classes.  At the site you have the option to customize your workout, to a certain degree, by selecting sorting options from five categories. 

* Style (e.g., Ashtanga; Vinyasa; Slow Flow; Restorative; “Diverse Movement”….  [2] );

* Duration ( class lengths ranging from 10 m up to 120 minutes    [3] );

* Teacher ( they have over 100 yoga teachers who’ve taped classes for them   [4]);

* Level (Beginner,  and Levels 1, 2, 3 );

* Focus ( what do you want the class to emphasize or what you’d like to work on – e.g., strength, conditioning, endurance; certain body parts – e.g.,  arms, hips; low back; physical or emotional concerns – e.g. digestion; emotional awareness; sleep better; time of day – e.g. morning wakeup, evening cool down, afternoon energy boost; using specific exercise equipment or props – e.g., foam roller; chair; blocks; straps)

 

 

You may design very specific classes according to how many categories you sort by, although your favorite yoga teacher might not have a tape of, say, a 45-minute Vinyasa style Level 2 class focusing on arm balances.

That last sorting category – focus – was the root of the Monday laughter.  I’d had a busy day and wanted to get in a bit of yoga before dinner.  A practicing yogi for over almost four decades, moiself  is perfectly capable of just doing/designing my own “class” of whatever length, but I wanted to see what the YI site had available for a relaxing quickie.  For the first time I chose the shortest class duration, 10 m.  I didn’t narrow it down by choosing a teacher or style (I figured there’d be few options at that duration); I went to Focus to see what was available ( ITAL hmm, what do I feel like focusing on for ten minutes – sleep better?  Flexibility? Reduce Stress?…) and saw an option I’d never seen before:

 

Massage Balls

 

 

Within seconds of moiself  being overcome with esophagus-clogging laughter, I figured out that those two words meant you were looking for a class which incorporated the use of the exercise balls common to Pilate, massage, and other wellness disciplines..  But, too late.  I could not stop laughing, and heard the stomping pitter patter of feet as MH came down from his upstairs office.  I indicated my computer monitor, and showed MH the Focus choice that had caught my attention.  He said he’d give his approval to that class focus.

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of Figuring Things Out…

Which in this case refers to moiself  figuring out why I loathe the what-is-becoming-the-standard-opener, almost a disclaimer of sort, of good intentions, which accompanies meetings, events (I’ve even seen it is the literature and/or email signatures) of certain groups, activities, and companies. You know what I mean, even if moiself   just did a lousy job of describing it:

“We wish to thank and acknowledge the Chinook, the Coast Salish,
and the Lummi peoples/tribes,
on whose original land this bake sale is being held….”

Why I find that so cringe-inducing is that it’s the secular equivalent of the virtue-signaling, “I’m sending thoughts and prayers.”

 

 

Y’all didn’t think there are equivalencies to prayers in the secular universe?  Many folks (both religious and religion-free   [5] ) tag, share, or “like” political and humanitarian causes on social media innumerable times a day.  Such actions carry the same illusion as prayer:  the illusion that you’ve actually done something.

Perhaps illusion would be better replaced wit  self-delusion:  in that when we “like” something it takes a wee bit ‘o of pressure off of us; it makes us feel good about ourselves – we’ve recognized the problem; we’ve “liked” the *correct*     [6] comments about it and/or the proposed solutions – without having actually done something other than click.

There is, of course, a neologism for it:  slacktivism.

Thanking or acknowledging the previous tenants of the land you currently occupy (we are all, ultimately, occupants, and not owners, of the earth) makes you look good  ( “I am aware; I care” ) but it accomplishes little to nothing.  There is no hard work of reconciliation or reparation or of even truly learning the history.   [7]  

 

 

*   *   *

Department of Employee Of The Month

 

 

It’s that time, to bestow that prestigious award upon moiself.  Again. The need for which I wrote about here.   [8] 

*   *   *

Freethinkers’ Thought Of The Week     [9]

 

 

 

*   *   *

May our activism eclipse our slacktivism;
May something cause you to laugh so long and so loud
that someone else feels obligated to check on you;
May you have fun choosing and using your class yoga props;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

*   *   *

[1] Monthly or yearly, it comes out to *way* less than taking classes at a yoga studio…but, at a studio you have the camaraderie of other students and teachers.

[2] Whatever that means…most likely incorporation dance or non-yoga…?  I should check it out.

[3] Depending on time of day/what else I’ve done during the day, I’ve varied from the 20, 30, 45, 60 or 75 minute classes.

[4] Some of whom I’m familiar due to decades of doing their tapes; some are “famous” (or infamous) within yoga and some are not; some are newer/unknown to moiself…

[5] Yep, like moiself.

[6] Right as politically correct, depending on which side of the political zipper y’all hang.

[7] If that is even possible, or desirable, and what such reconciliations and reparations would look like.  Difficult; thorny stuff…no wonder the “Yeah, I  know this used to be someone else’s neighborhood” seems preferable.

[8] Several years ago, MH received a particularly glowing performance review from his workplace. As happy as I was for him when he shared the news, it left me with a certain melancholy I couldn’t quite peg.  Until I did.

One of the many “things” about being a writer (or any occupation working freelance at/from home) is that although you avoid the petty bureaucratic policies, bungling bosses, mean girls’ and boys’ cliques, office politics and other irritations inherent in going to a workplace, you also lack the camaraderie and other social perks that come with being surrounded by your fellow homo sapiens.  No one praises me for fixing the paper jam in the copy machine, or thanks me for staying late and helping the new guy with a special project, or otherwise says, Good on you, sister. Once I realized the source of the left-out feelings, I came up with a small way to lighten them.

[9] “free-think-er n. A person who forms opinions about religion on the basis of reason, independently of tradition, authority, or established belief. Freethinkers include atheists, agnostics and rationalists.  No one can be a freethinker who demands conformity to a bible, creed, or messiah. To the freethinker, revelation and faith are invalid, and orthodoxy is no guarantee of truth.”  Definition courtesy of the Freedom From Religion Foundation, ffrf.org