Oh hey, it's a March resolution wrap-up

Hey. Does this thing still work? Hello?

I would like to say that I was off doing exciting things this past month, but not so much. The weather took me down, I think. Another endless slog of grey days and cold nights, the occasional nice day only serving to give false hope because it would be snowing the next day.

Frugality also doesn't do much to gladden the spirits.

So on this, the last day of March, a recap of how my March resolution went: it was a minor success. Three out of the four weeks I was quite frugal, and I felt guilty enough on the fourth week that I think it counts. I never quite mastered the art of only spending the cash I had taken out on Friday for the whole week. But I did bring my lunch to work far more regularly, and cut down on the socialization.

Well, by like one day a week.

Of course, travelling is not conducive to saving money. And I am travelling. After three years away, I've returned to Victoria for a week, but my wallet was out even before I left the GTA.

(It's amazing how reasonable getting the eggs benedict at the -sigh- airport Casey's can seem when you're still hungover from the night before, and have a five-hour flight coming up.)

But, I've made some other, wiser choices. Instead of paying for a hotel, I'm crashing on a friend's couch. I have instant oatmeal for breakfast, and hummus sandwiches for breakfast. It's a slow process. But I'm getting there, and eventually my bank account will as well. 

March Resolution, Week 1: Are we ready to be RESPONSIBLE?

First, let's check in on my February resolution reset. Was I able to knit a sweater in two weeks?

OH HELL NO.
But there's been progress. I've made it to the part where the sweater transforms from being a tube of enjoyable mindless knitting, suitable for subway or lunch hour distraction, into a collection of stitch holders that feels like wrestling a sea urchin.

I'm sure it will be finished by the end of the month, if I don't run out of the decades-old and impossible to trace yarn, at which point the sweater will become a vest. And I will cry.

So, onwards to March. I've successfully completed one (1) week of frugality. Lunch was brought from home four out of the five days of the week, carousing was kept to a minimum, I ignored the cute skirts and dresses in expensive boutiques, and bought two (2) pairs of pants from Old Navy. They were already on clearance, and a sale meant I received a further 50% off, so I spent a whopping $8.40 for two pairs of pants. I have spent more on one (1) cocktail at a bar.

Uncomfortable questions were raised by this purchase. I was proud of my frugality, but also ashamed. When pants cost $45, it's easy to ignore the chain of supply, demand, cheap labour and pesticide-grown cotton that brought them there - more difficult to do so when two pairs cost the same as a combo meal at McDonald's. I saved money by buying my pants this way, but I wondered if I was being cheap instead of wise.

February Resolution, Week 1 Version 2.0

So, the frugality thing didn't exactly happen this week, nor will it happen this month.

This is my gentle way of saying that my attempts to save instead of spend experienced a hiccup on Monday, thanks to trivia night, with a bit of a stutter following on Tuesday, before the whole enterprise finally descended into a full-on Hindenberg fireball on Thursday, when I charged a ridiculous lingerie purchase and realized there was no salvaging the resolution for this month.

But, in a way, it was a wake-up call. I didn't spend a ridiculous amount on fancy bras because I wanted to. Instead, I fell in love with the 3 for 2 deal, didn't check the prices of the individual bras, and felt awkward about saying anything at the till. Oh well, I needed bras, and the stiff, backhanded reality check the whole experience provided.

I have learned that I need to become a smarter consumer, and I'm giving myself two weeks to practice before attempting the resolution again in March.

Instead, I'll be attempting to knit a whole sweater in the next two weeks. And since the great failure and shameful reorientation, I have... a bit of a hem:

Crap. February is a cruel month.

February Resolution, Week 1

Frugality! A worthy quality, a noble goal, and something I have never, ever managed to achieve. Learning to budget and save has been a constant life goal, appearing annually on my list of New Year's Resolutions, but disappearing quickly (along with the money in my bank account.)

So why not try being frugal again, but this time only for a month? Then I wouldn't feel so bad when, inevitably, I use my credit card to shop away my feelings.

That was my thinking when I started the month. I was helped in my endeavour by the greatest saving strategy ever devised: Having Just Paid the Rent With the Next Paycheque Still Seven Days Away. Eating out is one of the largest drains on my money, so I decided to drop the number of times I bought my lunch to one, and eat all of my breakfasts at home. And I did it, even though I barely have the energy in the mornings to chew.

Still, good intentions can't overcome all obstacles. And on a hectic Saturday morning that would soon transmogrify into an awful Saturday shitstorm, I had to take a taxi. Four lunches later (er, if you get pizza) I arrived at my destination.

Oh well, this was only week one. Onward and upward with the savings! Plus I can always sell one of the less essential organs if I fall off the wagon again.

January Resolution: Week 4, and Conclusions

With the phlegm cleared (sort of - I'm still coughing up some ectoplasm even now) the last week of my January resolution went better than the whole month that preceded it. Have a look at how the week broke down, yoga-wise, in diary form:

Monday: I gamely stretched along to an Ekhart Yoga YouTube video and Esther Ekhart's weirdly calming accent. Trying to get a home practice going has somehow been more difficult than going to class. At least in class I'll commit to the whole thing. At home, anything longer than twenty minutes seems like a gross imposition on my time. Can you put a price on nirvana? No, but a time cap seems promising Still, I found one benefit to practicing at home: if you have cats, they'll attempt to join your practice, mostly by standing under you when you're in your downward dog. Aww.

Tuesday: Off to Perfect Butt Station with my girl Chloe for a Gentle Hatha and Meditation class. Farts were kept in check throughout the yoga portion. I couldn't keep my thoughts in check during the meditation part though. Never try to meditate while hungry.

Wednesday: Meditation. It's important to balance rest and meditation with more active forms of practice. Also: sometimes you get tired of dragging your yoga mat around Toronto. My meditation was guided by the Stupidest Article Ever Written About Yoga. Here's a synopsis of the article: white girl goes to yoga class, a Black woman sets her mat down behind her. Then the white girl can't concentrate on her practice because she feels bad at how whitewashed her studio is, and is convinced that the Black woman is hating her, specifically her, for it. Two real problems are identified in this piece, but only one was done so intentionally. Something has gone sour with yoga (at least as practiced in the West- can't speak to the rest) and who feels like they can practice it. There's a reason why Kula, my favourite studio in Toronto, started some positive space programs. However, there's another problem in this article, and it's that people with privilege often think being an ally means being a spokesperson. They can authoritatively know how everyone else is feeling, and what they're thinking - and, of course, all those thoughts must be about them!

My meditation got stuck on how I could avoid doing that. Was I a good ally, a misguided person, or was I sometimes an ugly racist? Also, what to do with the outrage accelerator that is the Internet? Oh, to think about food again. I think I just ended up falling asleep as I listened to the guided meditation, all of my questions left unresolved.

Thursday: To Perfect Butt Station, Downtown Branch, for a Core Yoga class. I'm concerned that it will just be pilates with added gongs, but fortunately it's an enjoyable, flowing class. I also experience the odd sensation of sweating while being completely cool. It feels damn weird.

Friday: On the last day of my resolution, and unable to schedule a real class with all of my other commitments, I give up and just do a few sun salutations to wake up. Marvin keeps me company. Waking up this way isn't as effective as an espresso, but it's at least on the level of a strong cup of tea. I'll try and do my sun salutations more often.

And with that, it was February. I've continued to go to yoga classes since then - once on Sunday, and again today. In a development that would shock absolutely no one, I am not perfectly calm after 30 days of B-grade practicing. However, I am somewhat more limber, and perhaps a touch more reflective, which seems like a B+ result.

January Resolution, Week 3

*****PHLEGMWATCH 2014 UPDATE****

Buckle up phlegm-watchers: we have an exciting update on my lung fungus! It appears to be... receding! Maybe it was the inhaler. Maybe it was the antibiotics. Perhaps it was the three bottles of cough syrup I drank. Or was it acupuncture? Nope, it was probably most definitely the antibiotics. Anyway, the percentage of my day spent coughing has gone from 85%, to a reasonable 10% (the science never stops on this blog.)

Has the upswing in my health meant that I'm closer to achieving my January resolution, and finding better living through yoga? Ha! No. I pulled some muscle (look at how in tune with my body I am!) around my ribs, and now it hurts every time I cough. Or bend forward. Or twist.

It was the excuse I have always been looking for to attend nothing but restorative yoga, which is like nap time for adults. Unfortunately, my yoga buddy didn't see it that way, and picked an Ashtanga class for us to attend at the Yonge and Eg studio I mentioned last week, Perfect Butt Land.

If you're not a citizen of Perfect Butt Land, let me say that Ashtanga is a dynamic style of yoga where you match your movement to your breath, flowing through vinyasas as part of a set series of postures. Unfortunately, something else needed to flow during that class, and so as I moved into navasana, I let a massive fart rip. The Yoga Ken next to me didn't even wobble in his posture.

All of which proves I should have paid more attention to the "Kundalini Yoga Meditation to Reverse Negative Attitude, Frustration & Depression" video I used as a meditation aid the day before. That night, my attitude swung right back to "negative" when the lady told me to "squeeze the anus." If I had only heeded her words. So, for the next (and final!) week of my January resolution: more squeezing of the anus!

January Resolution Week 2

Last weekend it seemed like my cold/flu/whatever it was (I'll call it a lung fungus because... science) was starting to get better. I was a little congested on the weekend but full health seemed like it was a mere sleep away. Then I woke up on Tuesday morning and it seemed like somebody had mashed a hand mixer down my throat.

So, another week of trying to wake my immune system out of its stupor meant that the whole resolution thing achieved limited success.

Sure, I could have probably made it to a gentle class, or a restorative class, and spent most of my time laying down (I really, really love those classes.) However, you don't make friends by aggressively trying to hork up a pound of mucus during everyone's savasana. Also, I ended up going to a walk-in clinic hoping they could napalm the lung fungus, and I felt that was enough yoga. For it required me to practice the principles of unity, and mindfulness, and waiting for multiple hours in the dingiest of waiting rooms. 

After a regimen of antibiotics, inhaler, and hourly shots of Benylin Dry Cough (magic in a bottle), I felt like I could finally trudge to a class on Friday. A power yoga class, even. Downward dog, knee to the nose, step into a lunge, attempt a handstand... fall to the side, off the slippery rental mat. Sweat, sweat, and repeat. At least I only coughed once. The next day, I headed up to Yonge and Eglinton to try a new studio. If you're not in Toronto, I think that's technically Midtown, but it feels like Uptown. Downtown, they wait in line to buy tacos at Grand Electric. Uptown, they wait in line (and out the door) for the Pickle Barrel*. It was a surprisingly intense Hatha class, and my mat was behind a girl who had perfect skin, perfect hair and a perfect butt. At least resentment helps to focus the mind, and unite the breath to the body. 

*I witnessed this outside of the Yonge and Eg Silver City post-class. Yoga and a movie? Nah, dinner and a movie is still better.

January Resolution Week 1

Did you read my blog, then wait on tenterhooks for what my first monthly resolution would be? I’m sure you did not, but in case you did… IT’S A CLEANSE.

Ha, not a chance.

I tried that once and ended it early, due to erotic dreams featuring hamburgers. However, my current monthly resolution is something equally cliched: a month of daily-ish yoga. Now, before you groan and picture another skinny white girl with a bouncy ponytail and a bouncy Lululemon-covered ass hustling off to class smoothie in hand, that’s… semi-accurate. I’m definitely white, and I own one item of Lululemon (but not the pants! My pants are a pair of $10 Old Navy legging specials!).

However, I am on the thicker side, and don’t take it all too seriously, so at least I’m subverting some expectations.

And I always go to class in the best of faith. It’s just that instead of concentrating on my breathing or my intentions, I tend to meditate on what I could be eating, if only class would end soon. Like: What kind of food? Where will I buy it? Oh crap, we’re moving into downward dog again. And exhale!

The instructors tell me to acknowledge the distraction and move on, but my mind still returns to sweet, seductive hamburgers. So why bother to go, if I can’t keep my mind off of meat? And let’s not ignore the uncomfortable layers of cultural appropriation and capitalism that have settled over yoga. Here I am, cutting off only the slice I want from a millenia-old tradition, and that piece only for my own benefit.

Because I’m going to yoga in the hopes it can teach me something about stillness. I’m a busy person. I talk fast and speak frantically, and I want to do a thousand things (even though I barely accomplish ten.) I’m also a person who can’t seem to keep my hungers in check. Like those vivid dreams of hamburgers I keep on talking about (I want a hamburger so badly right now and I’ve just been writing about them.) But I hunger for other things as well, and I would like to stop feeling so empty.

I don’t expect satisfaction in a month, and my yoga practice so far doesn’t indicate this is likely. I went to a class on January 1st, but my schedule since then has mostly involved YouTube videos. I’ve also decided to integrate days of rest, which has come in handy since I got sick. Even if I did have time for a class, I doubt the other students would appreciate me coughing loudly during shavasana. But once most of the viral/bacterial invaders are out of my bloodstream, expect me to be back. Thinking hungrily of cheeseburgers, once again.

The Year of Living Realistically

Goodbye, 2013. Hello, 2014. The tradition on my blog is that I reflect on the past year's resolutions, and come up with a new batch for this year. However, my completion rate has declined from year to year, to the point where zero - absolutely zero - of my resolutions from 2013 were completed. 

So let's try not to set ourselves up for that kind of failure again this year. However, I can't do away with resolutions entirely - there's a masochistic part of me that loves setting ridiculous goals. So my new plan: one resolution a month. I have a month to succeed (or fail) then I can move on. With 12 opportunities, I hope we can at least bring the completion rate up to a stunning 8.33%. 

To 2014! And reasonable expectations!