I've moved my blog to:

http://yogamammaexhales.blogspot.com/

Hope to see you there!! :-) Judie

...unless I am being chased by a bear.

Which doesn't happen too often. What has happened again is that when I got on my mat to do my practice, my fear came back. Since I have a level 2-3 class on Sunday I decided to give level 3  a try for the first time since my operation.

I am becoming aware of the fact that the feeling I perceive to be fear is many times nothing more than a whiny voice in my head that doesn't like feeling discomfort and stiffness. The voice doesn't like failure either, as though not being able to do an asana fully after a monthlong pause is the same as failing.

I sort of like this challenge as I am coming to terms with it. I can listen to the whiny voice and then respond by asking myself if I can just keep breathing, just continue through this moment. I tried listening to the voice to see if I needed to back off, and wasn't "afraid" to use Child's pose when I needed it. I used what my teacher Josephine taught me about building up to an asana (position) step by step. I reminded myself about the "universal principles of alignment" used in Anusara yoga which simply meant keeping my energy activated.

I remind myself of what I do know, that is the basics, rather than obsess about worst case scenarios. I accept that I am in the process of coming back into my practice, and at the same time, as always, I notice that my path is once again changing.

Maybe if I can keep on being more accepting towards my practice, eventually I will be more accepting towards the people and things that drive me crazy off the mat as well?

Nirvana??

Today has been a tough day.

I've been provoked, and even though I knew what was coming, after 2½ hours I cracked. Not very yogic.

I had my first Body Balance class in two months, and as expected, I'm not exactly at my peak. Still I feel frustrated, but at least I have a much easier time accepting that, knowing that next time will definitely be better.

Now I am going to go pull my covers over my head and hope that tomorrow is a brighter dag.

I love living in Sweden. And there's a lot in the U.S. that could stand improvement. Remember that as you keep reading my short list of complaints.

Or actually read about my one big complaint:

This morning as I was brushing the snow off my car the lady who lives around the corner, down the street, walked by our house for the umpteenth time as she walked her dogs. She passed within 3 feet from me and as always I said, "Hi." She looked at me. This is unfortunately not unusual for Swedes, and it drives me bonkers. I keep thinking that no matter what, my children are never going to ignore someone who greets them.

And just to make things worse the same thing happened to me at lunch. I ordered a chicken burrito at a mall food court, and when my dish was handed to me I had the nerve to say, "Thank you." A stare was all I got in return.

And even as I was going to put my tray in the cart I noticed that a young employee was gathering the trays onto one cart  so I asked her, "rudely" enough, "Do you want me to put my tray here, too?" She looked right through me.

I have absolutely no scientific evidence to support the following hypothesis, but if I remember correctly Sweden is pretty high up on the list when it comes to the suicide rate. Could one of the reasons people feel that desperate is that they are treated as though they were invisible?

Please, please, please, if you are Swedish and don't feel this description applies to you, then it most certainly doesn't. Remember that I said that I love Sweden, and naturally there are a ton of Swedes out there that are genuinely as good as gold.

But after living here for 19 years, this is the most significant difference in our cultures as far as I can see. I've changed a lot since I moved over here, adapted myself and much has been for the better, but if there is one thing that I will not change, that is that I am not going to stop greeting people in what I hope to be a friendly fashion.

Right now I am feeling almost too tired to get out of my chair. This is typical right after putting the kids to bed. I remember it being very important to my husband and me that our children got to bed early every evening (8 P.M.) so that we could have some alone time.

But what the heck did we do before when we were alone? :-P

OK, I have a vague memory of something, very vague, mind you...

Today I wanted to be sure to write down what a great morning I had. It started by putting on my new, supersoft, half-off pajamas after getting out of bed. At 9 A.M. they were still on, the kids were doing their ½-hour on the PC/PS2, and I was able to drink coffee and read the paper.

Later on we went out in the sunshine over to "pulkabacken" (sledding-hill). The air again was just around freezing and completely still. Even my 5-year-old decided that he was strong enough to pull his sled uphill, so I could just relax and watch them have fun.

Afterwards I went to the store and bought waffle-mix (Yes, I bought the mix instead of making them by scratch!). I sprinted to the library (only 2 minutes away) and got there a minute before they closed at noon to pick up the Singstar game that I had reserved. What luck that it arrived the first day of their winter break! The only thing that drowned out their singing was their laughter...

After lunch we ate waffles with whipped cream and strawberry jam.

I made myself another cup of coffee to top it off.

If my yoga session yesterday was anything but enjoyable, today I felt a huge difference. It was still not easy by any means, but my flow was back. My breath and movement were in unison. And my abs were able to stabilize my lower back. It's like I had to go through the fog to reach the sunlight again.

And speaking of sunlight, today was as beautiful a day as one could wish for. About ½-foot of snow lay on the ground, and the skies were completely blue save the dazzling sunshine. There was no wind, and the temperature was around freezing. I had the joy of watching my five-year-old son galavant about for two hours this afternoon.

And I did absoulute nothing that even remotely resembled household chores.

So I did my first yoga workout today. Decided right off the bat to stick to the basics. Promised myself to practice kindness towards myself. Still I didn't expect it to be so hard. Not just the physical part; I can't say that I was surprised by the stiffness in my calves, hips and thighs. I can't say I was surprised by the soreness from my operation incisions everytime I tried to activate my abs.

What surprised me was that I felt afraid. I don't know why; I just did. I guess I was (am) afraid that the healing process is going to take a while, especially when it comes to my bandhas (when you lift your abs and pelvic floor).

So the nice talk I was supposed to be having with myself (seeing as I was to be practicing self-love through my asanas (positions)... I thought I would be pep-talking by telling myself things like how strong I am, how great this feels, yada-yada-yada. Instead my nice-talk consisted of me reminding myself that it's OK to feel afraid. That I'm doing great by just coming to my mat. I had to remind myself to complete one breath (and congratulate myself for that accomplishment) and move on to the next one without thinking further ahead. At one point I even had to tell myself that I could look forward to a nice, cold strawberry fitness drink afterwards, just like when you give a kid a lollipop after having his shot.

So I made it through my session. And I'm hoping that the next session will be easier.

Even my daughter had a setback today. She was going to be going to a pajamas party this evening, and so went looking for a nightgown in town this afternoon. There were two that she especially liked, in two different stores. We didn't buy one just then (she was going to think about it); instead she followed her dad home while I stayed on to go to the studio. When I was done, I called to see if she had made a decision. She said she wanted the one from H&M. So I bought the nightgown from H&M, brought it home, and ended up drying her tears as she realized she had gotten the stores mixed up (and naturally, they were closed at this point, too).

So things didn't turn out the way she had expected either. I got her to try on the one that I had bought, told how pretty it looked on her, and tried to console her by saying that things usually turn out for the better, even when it's not what we expected. (She ended up having a great time at the party.)

Like Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of my favorite book "Eat, Pray, and Love", I am discovering that daily dialogues really can help you find a positive outlook to life's setbacks. That is when you write the words you wish your best friend would say to you in your time of need.

Om shanti.

Tomorrow I hope to have my first yoga work out since being operated on 2½ weeks ago. Already I am trying to quiet my ego's demons who are lobbying for me to make up for lost time. Thoughts like, "You're going to Florida next month, and it looks like your waist has gotten a little bit more squishy," sort of find their way into my consciousness.

So I ask myself, "What do I tell my students?" Should it be so hard to practice the same theme on myself that I plan on using with them? Of course not. And this is why I need to be an instructor (at least for now) in order to develop as a yogi.

My students humble me, in a good way. Seeing their dedication week after week I feel it's my responsibility to be as genuine as possible when I teach. Does that mean I am superhuman? Absolutely not. On the contrary my ego makes me VERY human, which is why I need my students to keep me on the right path. That is why at the end of the class, the teacher gives her students the mantra Namasté, I bow to you. That is the beauty of the teacher-student relationship. Like ying and yang, like everything within yoga, it is interwined and codependent, all in a good way.

P.S. I had decided this week's theme would be the same theme my third-grade daughter had in school this week, Friendship Week. Her homework included a list of things to do (called Nice Bingo) - things like "say something nice to someone" or "ask if there is anything you can do to help", etc. So on Sunday my students will have the same assignment during their practice; only thing is that I want them to direct their kindness to themselves.

1. A quick snuggle when the clock rang 5 A.M.

 2.Twilight over the southern coast this morning in what was a fantastic winter wonderland.

3. After not having had any motivation to work the past week I rediscovered that the best cure is usually to just pull yourself together and do it. So I did, and I surprised myself by actually enjoying work today.

4. Meeting one of my oldest friends for lunch, especially since we rarely get to meet nowadays.

5. Eating supper alone with my husband, even if it was just sandwiches and coffee by candlelight in our kitchen.

6. Putting two happy, exhausted kids to bed tonight. My son fell asleep within minutes.

7. Almost forgot - it's Friday :-)

8. Speaking of forgetting - I forgot my calendar on a sofa in a galleria today. When I went back to find it 15 minutes later naturally it wasn't there. THANK YOU whoever was kind enough to leave it in the bank next to the sofa so that I could get it back safe and sound...

God knows I love my husband. I want him to be happy. Having a trotter (horse) makes him happy. I'm glad he has an a hobby that makes him happy (that is, when he's not complaining about injuries or disappointing workouts).

I like to spend money; no, strike that. Let's put it this way; I like buying things, on sale, and if it's on sale I don't mind buying a lot of things. I prefer spending smaller amounts of money repeated times rather than coughing up a huge sum of money on a single occasion.

My husband and I agree on a lot of things, maybe even on most things, but we come from different worlds when it comes to dealing with our finances. Like many couples (apparently we are not the only ones on different wavelengths according to the media) this inconsistency is the huge rain cloud that at times blocks out the sunshine in our relationship. I'm the kind who wants to have money set aside for a rainy day (or a vacation*) while P is more a carpe diem kind of guy.

I wrote in an earlier blogg entry that I was making progress as far as this horse business goes. Let's just say that after seeing this month's horse bills (which have to be paid just three weeks before going on a family vacation*), I may have taken 3 steps forward earlier,  but now I've taken 1½ back...

This is one of life's lessons that I continue to struggle with.

I love the sombering effect falling snow has. It reminds me of being wrapped in a quilt or getting a wonderful bear hug; it calms me.

Today marks the five year anniversary of my mother-in-law's death. Soon my husband and I will meet up at the cemetery in Kalmar so that we can light a candle and lay a bouqet of flowers by her grave.

I was lucky to have had my mother-in-law in my life. She was a perfect blend of mother, girlfriend, and sister. We were always welcome to visit. At the same time she made sure to never smother us. I loved sitting with her at her kitchen table drinking coffee and eating something sweet and fattening - she loved treats from the bakery as much as I did. We talked constantly. Buying baby clothes to my daughter was an art form for us.

She had an amazing connection to my daughter, and my daughter, who only had just less than five years to get to know her farmor, absolutely adored her.

She suffered from many ailments, and when the doctors finally took her seriously, naturally it was too late. As I gave birth to my son in the summer of 2003, she lay a couple of floors above me recovering from surgery (They had removed a kidney completely covered by a large tumor). After that it went quickly, and she realized before I did that it would not be long before the inevitable occurred.

In February 2004 I took my mother-in-law to the hospital to have an X-ray done. She felt so ill that we decided to get her admitted. A few days later I was visiting with her alone. Together we ate some apple pie with vanilla sauce from the hospital café. I told her tearfully I was going to miss her, and she replied that she would miss me, too.

The next day she fell into a coma. At some point she regained consciousness, enough so that she called for her sons. I stayed outside of the room since I thought it was best they were alone. A day or two later, while I was at home feeding my son, I decided that as soon as my husband came home I would go into town to tell her I loved her and say good-bye. But when P came home he put his arm around me and said it was over.

It's all part of life's cycle, I know. The only thing we can be certain of in this life is that it is finite. To this day I miss her insanely. But as long as I can still feel the sorrow, I know that she is not forgotten. I never want to forget. My sadness has a cathartic effect; once my tears have subsided I always feel better, just like I've been hugged.

On my way to the office in Norrköping today I drove straight towards the rising sun. It resembled a huge orange fireball and painted the cloudless sky in various shades of lilac and pink. Stunning.

I thought about my friend, the one battling cancer. I wonder what he feels everytime he sees a sunrise, a sunset, the beach - anything beautiful.

After a week and a half of waiting and wondering (since he hadn't returned my calls) he finally phoned me yesterday. He sounded as cheerful as always. I could tell that he once again has decided to face this predicament head on with as much bravery and stoicism as is possible. With stoicism I mean a rational acceptance of circumstances and a realization that freaking out will get him nowhere.

Tomorrow I will drive down to see him, and I plan on savoring every sip of coffee, really notice the aroma and flavor.

Because who knows how many more sunrises or cups of coffee I will enjoy in my lifetime?

OK Lena - this one's for you!!  http://losformos.wordpress.com

Rules: Write 6 random things about myself, link the person who tagged you post the rules. Tag six people and link them. Let them know they have been tagged.

1. My father wanted us to name our son after him, but I didn't since that would have meant naming him Charles Mansson (at least in English).

2. I didn't think I was a typical Sagitarius since Sags typically enjoy travelling and adventure. Then I remembered that I have spent the past 20 years in Europe.

3. I am so incredibly grateful to be living abroad since it has opened my eyes about a lot of things. Talk about broadening your perspectives...

4. Like George Costanza, I can only sleep if my sheets are untucked.

5. Learning yoga has forever changed who I am, for the better.

6. I wish I were more patient with my children though.

I don't read many blogs, so feel free to tag yourself and then say I did it :-).

Dang!

I have the luxury of spending a night or two a month on the road with work, which means staying at a hotel. Staying at a hotel means naturally long, hot showers, complete control of the remote, and last, but not least, BREAKFAST.

As nice as it may sound (and who are we kidding - it IS nice), very rarely do I get the entire evening to myself, all by my lonesome. Tonight was one of those rare occasions. I made sure I ate dinner early, and I immediately jumped into the shower afterwards to do my shampooing, conditioning, and leg-shaving.

Then I pulled on my pajamas, painted my toesnails, and crawled directly into bed! Since there was nothing worth watching on TV I planned on reading and maybe redesigning my blog.

And before I know it - POOF - it's after 10 P.M.!!

Bedtime for Bonzo in other words :-P

That's about all I can accomplish right now...not even my blog wants to work as this is my third attempt at writing and publishing an entry.

So let's keep it short and to the point.

I love that Nina and Linda had the guts to invest in building a beautiful yoga studio for our classes. Namasté

I am humbly grateful to Carina for leaving her "retirement" in order to help me with some classes during my recuperation. It couldn't have been an easy decision, and she continues to be an inspiration.

My husband succeeded in making the most delicious dinner he's ever made - Taco Casserole - recept: http://www.alltommat.se/recept?recipeid=6659

I miss my (physical) yoga practice intensely.

I am officially tired of the itching and soreness where incisions were made.

I am logging off so that I can take a shower; I'm feeling pretty grungy tonight.