Finally, we hear about the tonsil

Joe completed his chemo in January and has gradually been making his way back to 100% normal, riding his bike, working like a fiend, cooking dinner again (thank goodness), growing his hair back, and generally astounding me with his resilience, good humor and general cuteness. The one little thing we've been still worrying about is this Something on his tonsil, the Something that was still on the PET-scan after 4 rounds of chemo and which is still there. He had an MRI a few weeks ago and heard from the oncologist today. Finally.

Dr. Maloney said that what the Something is exactly remains unknown, but that it's good news that it's not a big tumor. Phew. It's a "minimal soft-tissue asymmetry." I don't recommend Googling that. I already did, and it wasn't helpful at all. Joe will see the Ear Nose and Throat specialist, whose name -- fabulously enough -- is Dr. Chin [that cracks me up no end]. Chin will either biopsy the mass on the tonsil and tell us more, or remove it altogether, biopsy it, then tell us all about it.

So really we don't know very much at all, except that I suppose it could be a lot worse. Dr. Maloney could have called and said, "Holy Shit, dude, you have a huge tumor in your throat!" but that's not what happened. We have this vague minimal soft-tissue asymmetry to explore, instead.

As usual we're staying optimistic, dealing with one thing at a time and trying not to get ahead of ourselves. When we have more news, we'll shout it from the rooftops. In the meantime, we're happy and loving every minute.

Geek with a notebook

When I say that I've set goals for 2010, I'm not kidding. My process this year resulted in two pages in my notebook, organized into neat categories (underlined in green): Personal, Business - Out of the Woods (Joe's cabinet shop), Building, Love, Financial, House, Business - New! I know I'm probably way too Type A/retentive about this process for many people's liking, but I love it. And since it's in the notebook that goes everywhere with me, it's so handy as a reference or in case I need to add something -- like last week's addition of "Stop Hating" as a goal in the Personal category.

I'm a little crazy about this particular notebook. I started it in 2004, then set it aside for a while, so it tracks a variety of adventures. It starts with notes on "developing a home yoga practice" workshop I took with Lori Salomon, then lists all the books I read in 2004, to notes for our trip to France in 2005, to business ideas, to last year's beekeeping course, to a meditation class, to inventory of 2009 blogposts, to yoga, yoga, and more yoga. At an event a few weeks ago, I put my notebook down on a chair to save a spot. When I returned, it was gone -- setting off a serious panic for me. All that personal history: gone! Fortunately, it was returned (thanks, Kalila!), ending my sense of bereftness pretty quickly. Seriously, I am never without this notebook, though I can see that I am nearing the end of its blank pages now. [Meaning that I have already started dreaming of what kind of notebook will take its place: same Moleskin style or something different, oooo maybe something Levenger?]

This notebook habit is old for me, and probably stems from the whole cahier preciousness of my French early schooling. "Harriet the Spy" has a role in it too, along with all those lockable diaries of my youth. I don't really know how to pass the time if I don't have a pen and mechanical pencil and notebook at hand. I know enough about my faulty memory never to trust that I'll remember that idea or book title or album name later. And I just plain like writing things down, something so satisfying about the shapes, so different from this exercise at the laptop.

Leafing through this book, I see that I went through my calendar (yes, another thing I carry everywhere) and wrote down the FOUR movies we saw in 2009, that challenging year. Also charming: the plan for last year's garden, with cultivation dates. Delicious to sit and remember where I've been and to consider where I thought I was going!

To support this reliance on paper, I solemnly swear to recycle and reduce my consumption of other resources. No matter how far I progress, I just can't see giving up the feeling of paper under my hands, the sweet look of letters freshly formed, not to mention this compulsion to capture thoughts and events, no matter how small, in pen and ink.

Spanda: perfection and contrast

Spanda is the fundamental creative pulsation that is life, the heart-beat at the core of everything. It's the way we describe the cycles of life, the alternation of expansion and contraction, and also the way we move in asana, from expansion (breathing in, inner body bright, sidebody long) to contraction (muscle to the bone, muscle energy) and ultimately to expansion again (organic energy). I think it's also where the brand-name Spandex comes from, just by the by, if it's helpful to think of something that's stretchy but that also pulls back in to shape. It seems to me that spanda is really just the truth of how things work, you know -- seems so basic, a law like gravity, but also so easy to lose track of...

The week before last, the week I was in the Anusara immersion and workshops with John Friend, was utter Perfection. It was 7 whole days of great: I was happy every single minute, completely present, totally engrossed, 100% lit-up, receptive, inspired, loved and committed. WOW, the total package. Even though I stayed in my own backyard, it was an awesome vacation. I was seriously high as a kite all week, even when I got my period starting mid-week (Aunt Dot normally accompanied by 3- or 4-day migraine, but not this time), even when I started to feel a head-cold coming on (held it off until Monday). Just GREAT. Perfect.

And then I went back to work. That was a rude awakening. I managed to keep some grip on the Great from the week before, but the contrast between that blissful week and the reality of my day-to-day work experience was sharp. The first day back I asked myself, "Really, this is what I get to do all day?" At the end of the second day, I felt like crying on the way back home -- just so demoralized. Later that night, I realized I had spend most of that day feeling hated and/or dismissed. By Friday, I was a bit clearer, perhaps because I knew long mat-hours and freedom were coming.

There's spanda for you, right? Of course, it's not possible (or is it?) for every week to be like the immersion week -- one or a few weeks like that a year go a long way -- and it's sure not necessary for every week to be like last week at work. Somewhere there's a middle, and I just have to find it, make it.

Now that it is the weekend, I had a perfect day yesterday. Practiced in Sausalito with Laura and Trixie and the rest of the beautiful gang, then came home and worked and puttered in the garden for hours. I started seeds and weeded and turned the compost and stared at birds, while Joe worked on the new fence, both of us completely In what we were doing, checking in and talking every once in a while, but busy at our tasks. Trix and Josh came for dinner and we ate and laughed and watched the 'Lympics and generally reveled in a great friendship. Today is more of the same. I'm home after a walk with Joe and Jasper in the rain, writing and thinking and enjoying being here and being me. Joe is off, milling more parts for the fence. Nice.

And I know that tomorrow, Monday, will necessarily be different, not as great. I'm ready for it, because I'm staying clear on what I do get to do this year, which is change it all and find that sweeter middle spot between high-as-a-kite perfection and drudgery, that middle spot that is slowly taking form.

And There's More!

Up early again today, Day 6 of the Anusara tour. This weekend is workshops. I'm doing the Intermediate/Advanced classes, and also doing seva (service), assisting the 200 or so students in the room to place their mats. Anusara classes are visually unlike other classes in that there is great store placed on the mats being lined up just-so -- none of the ragged stagger -- and the closer the better, since after all this is a group activity we're engaged in! So I'll be at the venue at 7 to mat-marshall the 8 o'clock class, observe that class (goody!), then practice from 10:30 - 12:30, mat marshall for the 1pm class, then lunch, then class from 4-6. A very full day, the first of two.

I'm really looking forward to today, since many friends who weren't at the immersion will be there. It will also be such a treat to have the opportunity to observe a class, to spectate the motion and emotion in the room. Yay!

This experience has been like being on retreat and also not. I am glad to sleep in my own bed, and most nights have hit the pillow by 9 and then been awake by about 4, just too excited to sleep more, too full of the prior days' accumulated illumination to stay down any longer. In some ways, this has been a more "real" experience than retreat, since I've had to integrate the usual routine around the long days of yoga. And really, since it's all yoga, then so are dishes and bills and chores.

I won't lie: it would certainly be delicious to go back to my cozy nest and sleep. But that's what Monday's for!

I am so enjoying the way the days are unfolding, how I never know what we're going to do, where exactly we will be led. I am delightedly relaxing back into that, so happy to remember that really, truly, I'm not in charge. Just going along, presented with opportunity after opportunity to be dazzled. Such powerful lessons being integrated into my cells. What will happen next?

It's Your Dharma: Don't Hold Back!

It's early on the morning of Day 5 of the Anusara Yoga "Melt Your Heart, Blow Your Mind" 2010 World Tour, Day 5 of the immersion with John. This has been an incredible week, so much bigger, deeper, sweeter, funnier than I ever could have imagined. Melted heart? Check! Blown Mind? Check! Chit and ananda are on board.

Sometime on Tuesday afternoon I think, John said something about the notion of Wednesday as "hump day," that in our culture there's this prevalence of just needing to get through Wednesday so we can coast downhill to TGIF and the weekend. And also the idea of meting out our energy through the week, trying to make it last, holding back on Tuesday because we know there are hundreds more poses coming our way on Wednesday, and Thursday, etc.

That's nonsense. Don't save it. Go big every time. Go big every time like it's the first time, go big every time like it's the last time. This idea we have that our energy is limited, that if we blow it all out today there's none left for tomorrow, is a self-imposed limitation that prevents us from stretching to new lengths. We don't even know the heights and depths we'll hit today, let alone tomorrow. Energy, like love, is expansive. There's more!

And so we all went big on Tuesday. And we went bigger on Wednesday. And we went even bigger on Thursday. And guess what? There was always plenty of energy, more more more than I ever thought I had access to, to hold the poses, to sit cross-legged, to drop into backbend, to press up into handstand, to fold forward and stay there. Sustaining longer = more opportunities for the light to come on, for a deep sense of contentment to unfold and take up residence deep, deep, deep in the core.

I don't think there could have been a better way for me to kick off 2010, my self-proclaimed Year of Intention, than being here with John and friends. Realizing intentions, living a dharmic life, is easy, actually. Yoga provides the technique, the rest follows. All we have to do is be clear about our dharma, about who we are, and stay with it, be true to it, not hold back.

Go big today, friends. Show yourself, sing out, jump around! And tomorrow we'll do the same, as it just keeps expanding, getting better all the time.