Be Careful What You Say

My younger son, a true engineer, was designing a beverage holder for his golf bag and had a six pack of Coke that he was using in his experiment out in the garage. He left for college and the experiment was left behind. I brought the Cokes into the house to get them out of the heat (for fear they might explode sitting out in the garage) and left them on the barstool to empty and recycle later.

That night my husband and I came in from a fun evening playing games at a friend's house - if you call losing to my husband every time we play a game fun. Actually we are able to take him down occasionally, just not last night. As I walked in the door I noticed the floor dirty from all the barbecuing and just people walking in and out of the house earlier that day. I declared loudly that I was going to call my friend's maid to clean the house because I just couldn't mop the floor one more time. I was so tired of cleaning the floor and was ready for my "back to school" treat - the maid. Every summer when the boys leave for college I treat myself to a house cleaning by a professional and I was ready.

As I walked past the bar stools heading to the computer room to shut off my laptop for the night, I knocked the stool where I had placed the Coke cans earlier in the day. The cans hit the floor exploding into rivers of Coke running along the grout grooves and then just pouring over the tiles, splashing onto the couch and chair (thank goodness for easy clean up leather). I let loose a few words of surprise, resigned myself to pulling out the mop, bleach and pail and mopped the floor - one more time!

In yoga, I was settling down on my mat in the front of the room as the last of the Zumba dancers from the class before mine exited the room. I saw an instructor and another friend heading out the door and lightheartedly gave them a hard time for not staying for yoga. The instructor said her body just couldn't handle getting tied up in a pretzel that night. I started to laugh because some times I have a theme night (like head and shoulders - headstands and shoulder stands) and tonight was "pretzel night" - with a plan for a lot of twists and human pretzel poses. The class looked at me with fear in their eyes when I revealed that to them after her comment.

Be careful what you say - you just might get it.

In My Space - In My Face

I was able to board the plane early thanks to my husband's frequent flying privileges. I was on my way to meet him to play in his company's annual golf tournament. It would be a welcome but short get-away from the Texas heat. I was pleased the airline switched our plane from the original itsy bitsy teeny tiny express jet it was supposed to be - to a 737. It resulted in more empty seats than I expected, which is always nice for the passengers but not the airline. I took my window seat in the exit row that I love for the extra room for my extra long legs. Other passengers continued to board the plane.

Eventually a gentleman - good looking to boot - entered my row and took the aisle seat. He was engaged in a cell phone conversation that he continued with until the main cabin door was closed and all cell phones had to be turned off. He hung his jacket on the tray table hook of the seat between us as he sat down. Throughout the flight he was pleasant, occasionally making a comment regarding happenings on the plane. He perused one part of his newspaper keeping the other sections in the seat between us. It ended up holding his jacket (which moved there when he lowered the middle seat tray table to make a place for his drinks), wallet, napkin and a few other assorted articles. He lowered his own tray table to make room for his laptop and remained engaged in his work for most of the flight - until his three beers (or was it four? - I blame it on my wine!) at high altitude kicked in!

With his beers spread out on the middle tray table and his belongings filling the chair between us, I suddenly felt a little claustrophobic. My space was being taken over ever so subtly. I placed my wine cup (I wish I'd brought my own real glass) on the tray table between us, opened my bottle and poured myself a glass on "his" tray table, leaving mine empty. I smirked as I started to edge into his space - looked out the window at the beautiful sunset and smiled. "I'll bet he doesn't even realize what he did or that I am writing about him" - I thought.

He really turned out to be quite a nice fellow. We talked after dinner about our work and families as his beers kicked in and his desire to focus on his work waned. I am sure he didn't mean to take over the space like he did. But a real gentleman (like my husband) would have asked if I minded if he used the open seat or table or if we could share.

I was reminded of the space on the plane issue the other day when a gym member I had not seen in a long time ran into me after my class. She moved in very close while she was talking. I wanted to take a step back but was up against a wall already. I thought maybe it was just because she is a hair dresser and usually gets right up next to people to work on them that she was so comfortable being so close. I laughed to myself as it almost seemed absurd and wondered if I "got in people's space" too.

In yoga I try to respect people's space. I do not step on their mats. I let people know I am near if their head is down and they don't see me coming. I gently touch their shoulder as a warning. I ask permission to adjust their pose.

It is ok to be in other people's space - just ask permission first.

Do What You Say You Are Going to Do

It sounded like a good idea at the time. The 6:00 am cycling instructors were going on vacation and needed subs for their classes for two weeks. I signed up for it and then the alarm went off at 4:45 am. It was then I first questioned my sanity (actually I have questioned it many times before - usually when it involves getting my body out of bed before the sun is warm). Surely I had been out of my mind when I agreed to get up before the crack of dawn to lead others in exercise. I jumped out of bed quickly before my body realized what was happening to it and jumped in the shower to wake up. Actually, it is a really amazing thing to get up when the moon and stars are out and the night air is still a bit cool as you head to the gym to exercise. I wonder where all of those other people I see on the road are going at this crazy hour of the morning. What amazes me even more is the fact some people are actually leaving the gym when I arrive at 5:30 a.m. - they are finished with their workout. What time did they start?

By the time we are into our warm-up in class I am starting to feel alive and considering conversion to morning person status. When I leave the gym the sun is rising and a new day has already begun and life is good.

So - I thought. I shouldn't keep this incredible experience all to myself. I want all of my yoga students to experience this pre-dawn awesomeness too. I mentioned it to my yoga class that next night. I told them I would be teaching cycling class in the morning and they should join me. "You will be done with your workout before your body knows it is awake!" - I promised with a devilish smile. Two college age girls came up to me all excited after class to say they would be there. Two other women said "they might" and I knew they meant well but I could guarantee I would not see them in the morning.

The next morning, as class began promptly at 6:00 a.m., I looked hopefully about the room but didn't see any of the ladies that said they would or they might be in class. Just as I was about to lose all hope - which is tragic for a hopelessly optimistic person - two energetic young girls walked into the room and set up on bikes near the front of class - my two "we will be there" girls. The "mights" never showed up.

If you say you will - you will. If you say you might - you probably won't.

I love people who do what they say they are going to do.

High Expectations

I know I am guilty of high expectation syndrome. I expect a lot of things and I am sometimes disappointed. A friend once suggested I try not to expect anything and I will never be disappointed. I never adopted his philosophy. I prefer to keep my optimistic attitude and most of the time it serves me well.

Over the weekend I enjoyed a great time with family and friends. Our Sunday was highlighted with church, relaxing by the pool and playing games in the backyard. I took my son, his girlfriend and their friend out to dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant in the area. We were seated within a few minutes and were looking forward to the friendly,entertaining service and incredible food we have always experienced there. Within a few minutes we all had the feeling it was not going to go well. From the minute the waitress said "I'll be with you in a sec" that expanded into what felt like ten minutes or more, we knew we were doomed. A problem here and there is not a big deal and they are easily brushed off, but that evening they snowballed. The waitress certainly wasn't new, she just had the wrong attitude that matched her poor service. A floor manager walked up to the table and asked the perfunctory "how is everything tonight?". When I politely responded "not so good" and explained why, she merely responded repeatedly with "I'm sorry" but never did anything to correct the situation. We were soon out the door feeling cheated of a good dining experience and left with a disappointing ending to an otherwise wonderful day.

I know that my yoga students have expectations when they come into class. Some think we are just going to relax and breathe the whole time, others think they will have to be a contortionist, and some have no idea what to expect. I try to explain in the beginning how the class will go - starting with breathing exercises, then "almost aerobic" sun salutations, then everything will slow down, ... I remind them to pay attention to their body and the messages it sends them. I encourage them to take breaks when they need them - and they WILL need them. I can't explain everything that they will enjoy during the class but I like to clarify some expectations. I hope that settles their mind a bit and helps them enjoy the experience.

I can't wait to hear the restaurant owner's response to my letter!

So Many People, So Little Time

I come from a very large family by today's standards. I have seven brothers and sisters. Our dad passed away last year one day shy of his 91st birthday. We celebrated his life with an Irish Catholic service complete with a bagpiper and whiskey shots at the cemetery on a beautiful Michigan Memorial Day ending it all with a sprinkling of rain and a double rainbow (go Irish - go leprechauns!)

I was teaching a business class in the fall on Personal and Professional Effectiveness and was covering some ideas from the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People by Stephen Covey. He asks us to ask ourselves "What is the one thing in my personal life that I am not doing now that if I did, it would make a significant positive impact on my personal life?". The question is asked in regard to your professional life also. I posed the questions to the class. To give them ideas I presented my answers. In my professional life I want to learn Spanish so I can teach my business and fitness classes in Spanish in foreign countries. I started years ago but need to ramp up my studies if I am going to make that goal any time soon. When it came to my personal life I immediately thought of my dad. Out of nowhere I said I would call my brothers and sisters every month in order to keep in touch and keep them connected (and that is no small task considering there are seven of them and some of those phone calls can last hours!). I started that night, though I already had credit for a few since I regularly call some of them, even talk to them daily. Some were a little concerned at first when they answered the telephone, thinking someone had died. And quickly let go a sigh of relief when they heard I just wanted to say "Hi" and see what was up. It has turned out to be a wonderful goal. I hear the delight in their voices when they hear it is me just calling to catch up. Some of them never think about calling, they get so busy with their lives, so I am glad I started this. I have already added my mother-in-law to the list. I am thinking of adding all of my husband's brothers and sisters - but remember - that is another large Catholic family! Why not?

I taught yoga Saturday to a very full class. There were mats lined up against the back wall. Near the end of class I was looking at the back wall people and realized I hadn't made it back there very often during class to adjust them, offer a comment or demonstrate a pose next to them. I like to touch everyone, look at everyone or just make a positive comment on how hard they are working if I can. It is important. Tonight I will try to do just that - make sure I "touch" everyone in the class at least once every time. What a positive impact that will have.

One gym I work at has a goal of touching 24 millions lives with our fitness classes this year. I better get started. So many yoga students, so little time.

Soft Hands, Warm Heart

I was walking out of the grocery store toward my car and noticed an elderly gentleman walking toward me headed into the store. I say elderly because he was probably in his 80's but, he certainly didn't act elderly. He walked unassisted with a bit of a lively sprint in his gait. He wore a baseball cap on his head proudly sporting some military insignia USS... but he was walking so fast (remember?) I didn't get a chance to focus and read it. As he was about to pass me something dropped from his pocket. It was a small package of Kleenex. I said "Whoops, wait" as I hastened to pick it up. He turned back and I placed the package in his hand. As my hand touched his I noticed how soft it was, yet strong. It reminded me of my father's hand. My dad passed away last year leaving behind a lifetime of wonderful memories. In his last years I loved to visit him at his assisted living residence and sit on the porch with him shooting the breeze. Occasionally another resident or an employee would join us in conversation. I usually held his frail soft hand in mine. He would squeeze it every so often, a silent way of letting me know he was glad I was there.

As I smiled and bid the gentleman in the parking lot a good day, I started to cry a little bit as I thought of my dad. The gentleman couldn't see my tears under my dark sunglasses, just my smile and he cheerfully thanked me and strode off into the store.

In yoga class I frequently touch members to encourage them to go deeper into a pose or to let them know I am near and might be giving them further assistance. In the winter I try to rub my hands together first to warm them up before I touch them so I don't shock them. I hope my touch is soft and gentle and encouraging.

I can still feel his hand in mine.

The Perfect Party

I was invited to a personal shower for the future daughter-in-law of my friend. I love parties and really enjoy meeting new people. I behaved myself with the present I purchased which is so unlike me - a Victoria Secret gift certificate and Godiva chocolates. You really can't go wrong there.

I knew the moment my girlfriend and I pulled up in the drive-way it was going to be the "perfect" party. The pool in the backyard had the perfect fountain of water spraying over the perfectly clear water. The lawn was perfectly manicured. When we entered the house all of the women were perfectly behaved, standing or sitting, talking about perfectly appropriate party subjects. Two perfectly groomed poodles greeted us and later sat in the lap of the hostess - behaving as perfect poodles do. The table was beautifully set with little sandwiches and punch and a - you guessed it - perfectly decorated cake that matched the picture on the invitation. We were going to have dinner as a group after the shower so I tried to save my appetite but the cake kept calling to me. I can resist a store bought cake but I overheard that this one was baked by the hostess' work friend and she makes divine cakes. So I cut a small slice (that could fit into my mouth in one bite) and placed it on my napkin. I lifted the cake with my fingers and dropped it into my mouth and wow - what a delight and what a mistake. It was now going to be extremely difficult to resist getting more. I failed miserably at resisting. I ended up back at the table and sliced a much bigger piece of cake and again placed it on a napkin. My friend and the hostess happened to be standing next to me at the table this time. The hostess tried to put a plate under my napkin as I enjoyed the cake piece by piece. I let her put the plate under my cake but never did make it to the fork before I finished it off. It just tastes better to me when it can be enjoyed that way. The hostess kept a straight face but inside I am sure she was horrified. Maybe she never lived with five brothers or a houseful of men. I enjoy visiting the perfect party where everything is in its perfect place and sometimes wish mine was the same way - but I am much more comfortable when I can eat my cake my way!

I jest about the "perfectness" of the party. It really was a delightful afternoon and I immensely enjoyed the women I met. I sometimes have the perfect house too. Whenever we have a party all of the imperfections get fixed and cleaned and the house looks perfect when guests arrive. That is one of the reasons I love to have parties.

I consider my yoga class a party. Though we don't have cake and punch I like to make sure people have a good time. In my class there is no "perfect" - no perfect pose, no perfect anything - just practice. I like my members to smile, to laugh, to groan, to be creative with their poses and do their best with what they have. I try to emphasize the "relaxed - do what you can" atmosphere right away so everyone enjoys class and new people are not intimidated.

And sometimes - I even see some perfect poses.