Posts Tagged ‘flexibility’

The Good News

February 9, 2016

The better news.

The annoying news.

Let me start with the annoying.


Two sick little boys at work.


Four days of fever sick.

I am not feeling the best, but I am so healthy, rarely sick, and what ever it is has not really caught up to me.


I am going in way early tomorrow as the boys will not be in class and the parents have an appointment they need to make.

The mom implored me and I was like, ok, I can be flexible here, I can be of service, I can help out where I can.


I don’t want to get up at 7 a.m.

Oh well.

I will be done early and be able to take care of a few things that I need to take care of.

Like hopping over to Office Depot and picking up a USB cable for my new printer.

I could have swore I had one, but I cannot locate it anywhere, nor my multi-plug extension cord.

I wanted to set up the printer today so that I could do a dry run on my paper and see it printed, I always catch more errors when I am reading straight from the paper than from the screen.

So, even though it’s a bit of a pain in my ass to go into work that early, the day will go by fast and I will be able to go to Office Depot when I get done at 5:30 p.m. and pick up what I need.

I will also be getting an external hard drive.

The 10,748 photographs I have on my hard drive need to go elsewhere.

My computer keeps telling me to delete files to make room.

How about I just get a new drive and pull it all off.

I don’t really know how it all works, but I know that I can ask for help and I have the time to deal with it tomorrow and I am sure I am not the only neophyte that has walked into a store and said, um, I don’t know what to do but I know I need to do something.

The better news?

I’m going to have a short day on Monday.

The annoying news there.

I am still going in early.

In fact, earlier than I will be going in tomorrow.

9:30 a.m. tomorrow.

9 a.m. on Monday.


I’ll be at a speaking engagement late on Sunday, but it can’t be helped.

The family is going out of town and the mom asked that I come to the house and open it up for the house cleaner.

I said ok.

Even though it’s a holiday for me.

And I really won’t do much Monday but let in the house cleaner, do some homework, maybe go over to Ritual and grab a coffee, and just hang out until the cleaner is done.

I’ll be out of there by 2p.m.


The good news?

That’s it!

I’m done.

Come 2p.m. on Monday I will be done for the week.

The family will be gone on vacation and I will be too.

It’s looking like a “staycation” but that’s cool with me.

I live in a pretty amazing place and the weather has been fantastic.

The family is going to pay me for the time too.

Not the whole week.

But the majority of it and I won’t need to take any vacation days.

I’m saving those for my school retreat in August.

Crazy to already be thinking about that, it’s February, but it’s out there on the horizon and I want to make sure that I am covered for it.

I’m only take one day of pay loss, so it’s rather like working the four day week that I work when I am in school.

It won’t hurt too bad and I will be so happy to have the time off that I don’t mind being flexible and helping the family out.

I have a couple of things happening, but mostly a lot of open space and time to play, rest, and yes, most likely work on some school work as well.

The school work is always in the mix, but I’m holding pretty steady with it and happy to be doing so.

I have thought about going to the DeYoung.

I have thought about going swimming.

I am supposed to explore that and be getting back to my person about that, that little thing I’m balking a bit at, as I was told I probably would.

It’s all about finding the balance and I know it is there.

I may not do as much writing in the morning the days that I am working out.

I’ve thought about the yoga studio at Irving and 46th–literally a 1/2 block from my house.

They have classes, Vinyasa, which I have no experience with, but then again, I have little experience with yoga in general anyway, which would fit my schedule and I could get to three days a week.

My other thought, my housemate got into it last year and has become a convert, is to do some open ocean swimming over at China Beach.


It will be cold.

But it’s swimming and I love swimming.

I could also find a pool to swim in.

I have a vague recollection of there being one somewhat close by.

Anyway, so yeah, investigation for that can occur.

Investigation of many things.

Sleeping in.

Sitting in the sun.

Reading something that is not school related.

As well as plenty that will have to do with school.

A movie matinee?

I haven’t been to a movie in a while.

A ferry ride to Sausalito.

A scooter ride or fifteen.

A massage.

There’s lots to do and I am sure, see, and I am grateful for the opportunity and I am grateful that I get to do all these things, I have options.

I have open time.


And a very heavy handed suggestion to lighten the fuck up.

I will be doing so.

Just got to make it through the week.

One day down.

Six to go.




Wet And Wild

January 15, 2016

And wetter.

I mean.

That was a crazy ass ride home.


I got home just drenched.

I hadn’t planned on riding home and didn’t have the proper gear with me.

When it started to rain this afternoon I texted to confirm my ride.


Not available.

You know.

You’d think I would know better by now.

Always have a back up plan.

Not that my bicycle wasn’t available, obviously, it was, just that I hadn’t tossed the right stuff in my bag for a rainy ride home.

I could have also taken a car, there is that, I could have left the bicycle at work and taken a car back into work or the MUNI on Monday–but I am due there early on Monday, and Tuesday for that matter, and I wanted to make sure I had my whip.


I got plans for my money and hiring cars to take me about steps on that money.

The ride home was bad.


Not as bad as some I have had and I just stripped right down in the garage and tossed all the wet things in the wash–shoes, socks, pants, shirt, messenger bag, bra–all in.

Since I was naked and already wet.

I also took care of that.


Girl needs to get some.

Most recent explorations back into online dating forays have not been interesting, despite the amount and time I have spent on the forum, it never really adds up to much.

Although it has once or twice.

That is how I connected with an ex-boyfriend.

But I already knew him.

It was just a way to send out a hey, I’m interested feeler.

Turns out he was too.

And that officially was my last relationship.

I got a decent query the other day, but Sunnyvale is a ways a way and he, perhaps by mistake, insulted my tattoos and it soured the thought of getting together for coffee.

Not that there is a whole lot of time in the schedule again.


I am up to snuff with my reading for school.

In fact, today I reviewed and skimmed and outlined all the reading for my first class.



Jesus, that break went by really fast.

OH well.

At least I have New York as a carrot in front of me.

I made it through last semester, I will make it through this semester.

Dating or no dating.

Sex or no sex.

Kissing or no kissing.

In its own way is precluded right now for my vibrator and a stack of books.

That’s the company I’ll most likely be keeping for a while.

So it goes.

So I took care of business and took a hot shower and got warmed up and now the writing.

I have my books, and one reader, I didn’t even bother to check to see if my other one was ready, I didn’t have the time to pick it up, reading the material online will have to suffice and hopefully I’ll get over to Copy Central sometime this weekend.

Maybe Sunday?

Who knows.

I will deal with things one moment at a time.

Currently the laundry is drying and hopefully will be done before I need to go to bed.

In like five minutes.

Which is not going to happen.

I am just too awake for that, but I do hope to be heading off into dream land by midnight.

It was this way all last semester too, being used to my regular work schedule was not ever a good match with my first day back to classes.

And that’s ok.

I have coffee prepped and at the ready.

I have lunch and dinner packed and set to go in the fridge.

I have extra tea bags in my pen bag and lots of pens for taking notes.

I’m bringing all my text books tomorrow.

I am getting a ride.

I was hoping the rain would not be happening this school weekend so that I could be on my scooter, but no such luck.

As you may have summarized from the first part of the blog it is raining out there.

But that’s the worst of it.

Of my “problems” I should say.

I have no problems.

I was reflecting a bit today after yesterday’s outpouring of love, which continued a little today, about my life and really how great it is.

I have an awesome life.

I have done things and lived places and gone on adventures.

And I still have so many yet to go.

I know I am busy with school and the daily machinations of life, but I am flexible too.

I want to be flexible.

Granted I want to be prepared too, I don’t like getting caught out in the rain, but I have to say, despite the wet and the cold, there was so much beauty there too.

I couldn’t not see it.

The wet shiny reflections from street lamps and stop lights.

The smell of the woods as I wheeled through the park.

The aliveness of my body and the realization that I was getting to have this experience.

It wasn’t cruelly thrust upon me, it was just an experience.

That would be followed by another and another and another.

These experiences pile up and make my life.

I am a compilation of these adventures.

Some quiet and understated.

Some alone.

Some wild, exuberant, and full of noise and the rush of the waterfall at the top of the hill roaring with extra water in the air and the splash of my wheel rolling along the road.


It is glorious.

This life.

I am a very lucky girl.

And I am a very lucky school girl.

Back to class in the morning.

I’ll be out of touch for the weekend, but I’ll post, don’t you worry.

I want to be flexible.



I feel I can do both.

At least for today.

Night all.

May you enjoy the splash of the rain.

This dark and windy night.

Preferably from inside a cozy hobbit hole.

Just like mine.

Dry and snug.





Delighted and Dumbfounded

November 15, 2015

I finished my paper.

I finished my Group Dynamics paper.


Oh my God.

The relief.

Ten pages, 3,357 words.

In fact, I wrote eleven pages, so I had to cut and that is fine, good really, tightened the work and it’s always better to have a little too much rather than too little.

I was not expecting to get the paper done today.


I realized this morning when I was sitting and doing some writing that though it is not at all about school, turns up to be so important to me being able to facilitate so much of my school work, that I was perhaps going about my school weekend prep plans backwards.

That it might actually serve me better if I wrote the Final Paper project today rather than putting it off until tomorrow.

The paper is not due until the 17th.

But I wont have time outside of this weekend to really devote to paper writing.

I can get into a groove where I do a little reading here and there, and it’s become a lot more reading as the days have progressed toward the end of the semester, but it’s hard for me to stop and start writing a paper.

That was the “dilemma” I faced today.

Do reading for other classes or focus on getting to the final paper, even if it meant cutting it in two segments of time.

I didn’t sleep in.

I wasn’t expecting to.


I had not set an alarm, just in case I wanted to lie about for an extra hour.

Glad I got up.

Glad I got going.



By how much I got in today.

My regular morning routine, plus the laundry, and marketing, and making food for the week and beyond into the school weekend, meeting with two different ladies, sitting and hearing the end of an inventory, reading for my Human Development class.


Writing the final paper.

I still can’t believe it’s done.

So relieved.

I am going to focus tomorrow on Therapeutic Communications, getting as much of the reading done for the class as I can and also I am going to write the reflection paper as well.

That will leave me with the reader from Human Development, five articles, and all the reading for my Psychoanalytic class.

I mean.

I still have a lot to do.


I feel so much better having this huge paper off and into the world.

Plus, having done my food prep today I don’t have to tomorrow.

I will meet with my two Sunday ladies.

Do the deal.

Get right with God.

Then read away the day.

I promise myself I will take a walk outside and get some fresh air.

That I will also sit in the sun and eat my meals without looking at a text-book.

I will watch the ravens swoop and sing through the air.

Have you ever heard the song of wind through raven’s wings?






Yet seductive, when I lift my face to the sun, prop my feet in a chair on the back porch and let my eyes close under the warmth of the sun.

I am hoping for sun tomorrow.

I know there was some today.

I did get out of the house for a brief moment to buy eggs and coffee and persimmons from the local market.

Persimmon season’s almost over.

I will miss you my sweet orange pumpkin friends.

I don’t want to jinx it but I am hoping to have all the reading done for the next weekend of classes, um, ha, before classes are in session.

I haven’t manage that yet.

I have managed to stay on top of the writing and I haven’t turned in any papers late, yet.

I hope not to.

There are only two more weekends of classes before the end of the semester!

How did that happen?

Of course.

I can barely see ahead of myself to know how I am going to feel heading into the final weeks of the semester.

Probably feeling that I am still behind.

There’s a lot of work and I have to acknowledge to myself, if only to myself, that I did real good today.

I got the massive amount of reading finished for the paper earlier in the week, I took notes, I made notations all over the book, it was full of little blue post-it notes, I used supplemental materials, and I wrote a really good paper.

I also learned how much I learned.

Which, I feel, is the signpost of a successful class.

I learned as I was writing and I made connections and correlations and my mind was a frenzy of activity.

I may have talked to myself a few times too


I learned that I can be flexible.

Or try to be more flexible.

I went to a friend’s house with a different agenda than what was previously discussed and watched my brain throw itself into spasms trying to figure out what to do.


I realized.

I was just panicking and looking for a way to not do the paper.

Any excuse will do!

Put it off one more day!

My friend helps me get accommodated and I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, stopped listening to my head, and listened for my gut.


This here.

This notebook there.

My laptop here.

This book here, these notes here, my pens, turn off the phone, sit down.

Accept the help and suggestions being offered.

See what happens.

And what do you know?

There was nothing wrong.

I got lost in time.

Forgot that food had been ordered.

Wrote and wrote and wrote.

Took a break when my stomach said, “hey! I’m hungry,” and my bladder said, “yo, bathroom break!”

A bowl of corn and chopped chicken with egg drop soup, and some prawns with snow pea pods.


Then back to the paper.

And about 45 minutes, maybe an hour after dinner, I was done.

I spell checked.

I edited.

I tightened.

I clarified.

I opened up my e-mail, composed a note to my professor, attached the paper and sent it out into the Universe.

And now.

I rest.

I actually have a sore arm, shoulder, and stiff forearm from typing so much.

I mean, what with my morning pages, the final paper project, and this blog, I have written over 5,000 words today.

No wonder my head is sore.


It’s done.

I am truly.


Over the fucking moon.

There’s Carmen!

July 17, 2015

“I just wanted to let you know that’s been me hollering at you on the way to work,” she said with a laugh and patted me on the arm.

“I see you all the time and you wave, but I don’t think you know who is yelling at you,” her eyes twinkled and I laughed.

“That was you!”  I smiled, “I was wondering who’s been giving me the hello’s.”

It’s nice to be seen.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot recently.

Allowing myself to be seen.

“You have to know that whatever happens, you meet the love of your life at Burning Man,” I pushed my friend’s shoulder, “no, I mean it, that whatever happens, this is important.”

And it is.

And there was a lot more said, but I am not comfortable relaying all that here.

Suffice to say.

I am being seen.

And as for meeting the love of my life at Burning Man.

I already did.

It’s me.

I stopped Calling in the One when I realized that I was the Beloved and that I was the love of my life and no one will love me as hard or as well as I love me.

That being said, it’s a constant practice, a constant, not struggle, it’s not a struggle any more, it used to be; rather a concerted and continuous work of being kind to myself, taking care of myself, loving myself.

Letting myself express myself and be who I am.

I am many things and as I learn to be continually open to vulnerability and emotional connection in the very real and the very present time, I get to see how deep the damage has been in my life.


How far I have come.

I mean.


I have made amazing strides in my life and to not acknowledge that is a kind of affront to the work I have put in.

It is not all work though.

I must have some fun in the mix.

For instance.

I had two unexpected cancellations for this Saturday.

I have to get some fun in my Saturday.

I do still have plans, I’m helping a friend with some stuff, but I have extra time on my hands to find a little fun for me.

Whatever that looks like.

Some fellowship, some cards, some pinball, a museum jaunt.

I would love to see the Turner exhibit at the DeYoung.

I keep hearing great things about it and I have not been to the DeYoung in a while.

I do have things I need to attend to, book gathering, loan deferment paperwork, cooking, et al, the stuff and routine of life.

A mani and pedi.

The small pleasures that I allow myself to have are important to the quality of my life.

Framing the Marilyn print from the MOCA and hanging the Diebenkorn up in my room.

I am negotiating a ride out to Cheap Pete’s in the Inner Richmond to get that together.

I’m navigating other rides too.

It does indeed look like I will get to have a little more summer vacation before the work, the study, the balancing act of what my life is going to look like come school start, begins.

I am currently in the planning stages of going to the Grand Canyon.

I have never been and I am over the moon excited.

My friend and I would leave on a Tuesday, July 28th and head to the North Rim and a secret special spot for camping that a friend of his knows about that is not heavily touristed.

There has been talk of Monumental Valley and Bryce Canyon as well.

To tell you the truth.

I know nothing.

I really have no conception of what is out there and what it looks like and what I exactly want to see.


I want a road trip.

I love the open road, I love seeing new things, I love the vista from the car seat, I love watching the sky scroll by, I love singing along to songs on the radio, I love putting my feet, bare feet, up on the console of the car and scrunching up in my seat and being just simply free, happy and content, and I love telling stories on the road.

There is just something so soothing and satisfying about it.

Plus camping?


Bring it on.

Campfires underneath the stars, country, out of the city for a while, back roads, which I suppose we won’t actually do if we are going to get in what my friend has suggested, there’s also been talk of Death Valley and maybe squeaking in the top part of Yosemite, not going into the valley itself but driving along Tioga Road.


No clue.

No conception.

I suppose I could google some images, but open road, is well, open road.

And I love me a road trip.

Plus, more time with my friend before the onslaught of school.

More being seen.

More being myself.

More allowing abundance and joy and fun and flexibility into my life.

“Joy of living is my principle today,” I said into the phone and smiled at the imprint of flower blossoms, pink and fat and truculent against the sky blue sky.

It might have been because I got a ride to work and that’s a treat.

It could have been that the weather was kind and sunny and inviting and I do so much better in the sun than out of the sun.

It could be that tomorrow is Friday.

Whatever it was I was going to enjoy it, to keep enjoying it and be as present as possible every inch of the way.

Even when it was hard.

“Hit Carmen! Hit Carmen!” The oldest brother instigated his brother in a game of, well, I can’t tell you what the game was, it was high energy though, and when I went to pick up the three-year old for our outing to the park I got hit, hard, in the face, brought to tears, this kid does not know his own strength.

“You,” I said to the five-year old, “to your room, five minutes, no talking.”

I pointed to the door and he fled.

I picked up the three-year old I had abruptly set down on the bed.

I looked at him.

He looked at me.

We saw each other.

His eyes got wide and teary.

“Please, please, please, don’t hit me,” I said to him.

Then I paused.

I could see he was about to get pretty upset and I wanted to be stern, but not too stern.

I wanted him to see me, to know that I was hurt.

I also knew that he would probably forget, as he did in about five minutes, and I would get smacked again (he’s in a phase, but I think it’s passing), but for the moment, in the moment we connected.

He saw me.

“I’m sorry Carmen, what can I do to make it better?”


Out of the mouths of babes.

“I could use a hug, sweet pie.”

He gave me a hug and burrowed into my arms, then off we went on our adventure.

The grandparents accompanied us to the park for one last outing before they left on the plane today.

There was much digging of sand and pouring of buckets and shovels flying and dump trucks dumping and when that became mundane, there was grandma to push the swing.


One sweet five-year old boy.

“Carmen,” he said plopping down next to me on the cement wall, “I just want to sit next to you and eat grapes.”

He leaned into me.

“I love you too much.”


My heart.

Little pie.

I love you too.

I love hard.

I live hard.

I try hard not to be seen.


There I am.

Being seen and allowing myself the freedom to be exactly who I am in the exact moment of whatever is happening.

It is an amazing gift.


This love.




All encompassing.

All the love.

All the things.

Hurt So Good

November 11, 2013

But it still feels bad.

I went to Suchada today for some relief.

I got beaten up, in the best possible way and stretched and pulled and rubbed and stomped on.

My housemates boyfriend said, “just tell them to stomp on your face.”

Well, I ain’t so sure about my face, but I was more than willing to have them stomp on my shoulder.

I awoke earlier than I thought I would on a Sunday, which is not a bad thing, I will allow myself to sleep in, but if I am not tired it’s just mental masturbation and the thoughts get rolling and there is no relief.

Fingers crossed there will be some relief here in a few minutes.

I just took a big dose of ibuprofen.

When I got up this morning I felt good, stoked on the day, despite a smidgen of anxiety around having a day completely free and open to do anything I wanted to do.

I wanted to practice, most of all, saying yes to the moment.

I had a great breakfast, two big mugs of Holler Mountain coffee from Stumptown with some unsweetened vanilla almond milk, I wrote four pages long hand and was shaking out the rugs and sweeping the floors when my housemate texted and said,

“hey!  We are going to Trouble to get coffee, come!”


Despite the coffee I had already imbibed I did go and have an Americano, so good.

We sat in the little parklet outside the cafe and talked shop and chatted up the neighbors and I met some more folks in the hood and we hung out in the golden sun and the chill autumn air of the Outer Sunset, the ocean glistening benevolently in the distance, drawing my eye to it again and again.

What also drew my eye?

The big poster with a yard sale happening at 46th and Irving.


That’s where I live.

Skate boards, surf stuff, girls clothes, art, bring your own cup mimosas.

Ah, a hipster yard sale.


And it was.

I picked up a Bialetti Espresso maker and an awesome teal coffee mug for $2.


The Bialetti itself, though not in the box, was obviously never used and brand new it runs generally $35 depending on what model you get.


“Oh, you should get this!” My house mate pointed to a corner of the yard, they really were hipsters–the guy in the owl poncho was so hip I had to stand a little back and bask in his hip aura–and I was having fun picking through the goofy tchotkes they had, I turned and she was looking at two boogie boards.

I don’t even know what a boogie board is, but I have heard tell they are wild fun.

There’s no standing up and you just play in the white water.

I guess.

I will investigate.

I will put on my wet suit and go on down to the beach and play.

I have not been able to re-connect with my friend with the long board, but as he’s back in town from a recent vacation I suspect I will soon.  I do have the tentative date to go to Pacifica next Sunday with the girl I ran into last night in Noe Valley and if I can’t get to him by then I figure I will just rent a board in Pacifica, get a taste of another kind of board experience.

Anyway, the idea of going out to play in the water sooner than that was really appealing and when my housemate and her boyfriend, who is a surfer amongst many other things, said, it’s a good boogie board, get it.

I did.

I asked, “how much?”

“Um,” the guy in the owl poncho said, pushing his square black frames up his nose, “how about $5?”

Done and done.

And now I have a boogie board.

Boogie Board

Boogie Board

I was ready to leap off into the sea right then and there.

“Excellent, now I can just go out and not have to wait for anyone to have the time to go out with me,” I said gleefully hugging the little board under my arm.

The difficulty for me has been meshing up schedules for the surfing to happen.

“Oh no you don’t,” the boyfriend said, and my housemate, linking her arm in his, agreed.

“You don’t ever go out to Ocean Beach alone, the undertow can drag you right out to sea.”

Then her boyfriend told me a nice little horror story about how it had happened to him.



But I still want to go.

I know I should go with someone though.

Even if it is just to sit and watch me wave good-bye as I get pulled out to sea and drift off toward the horizon to be devoured by sharks.  At least there will be someone to tell my housemate she can rent the in-law out again and my parents might want to know.

I might have gone down today, but I had managed to get myself booked in to Sudacha.

Both the housemate and the boyfriend assiduously recommended it.

They sort of put the fear of God into me by how tough it was going to be.

So when I got there I made sure I checked the box that said first time and as I looked over the areas of the body I wished them to focus on I paused while debating the level of pain I wanted to be in: Soft, Medium, Hard.

Traditional Thai massage is done with hands, elbows, and feet.

There was going to be someone standing on my shoulders.

I circled medium.

I couldn’t quite bring myself to circle soft.

Turns out I probably could have circled hard and I may just do that the next time I go.

I will be going again.

It was intense and I felt muscles that had not been massaged in years singing their creaky hoarse way bright and clear and loud.

But not my shoulder.

Damn it.

Out damn spot.


I think there is something else going on.

I am going to make an appointment to be seen by my doctor again at Kaiser now that I have officially received clearance to go to them via Healthy San Francisco.

Which is not free, but is something I can handle at this time.

I also received a nice welcome back letter informing me that I would still be able to see my old primary care physician.


The ibuprofen has not kicked in yet, I will be taking it easy the rest of the night, and picking more up tomorrow.

I have a full week of nanny.

I shall rest.


And be grateful that despite not getting all the kinks worked out, I did get a lot of attention to an area that needed it bad.

It was also really good for me to lie still for an hour.

Really good.

More of that in my future.

And boogie boarding!

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