Clean and Elegant

Clean and Elegant

Tuesday, 31 May 2011

Life

Life isn't a death sentence.
Well it kind of is, but you know what I mean.

The End.


Wednesday, 25 May 2011

Day 69 of Not Puking in Your Mouth

Hope for Rumination Syndrome:  How to transform your esophagus into a one-way street.
(Alternate Title: Surely Regurgitated Foodstuffs Will Not Follow Me All The Days Of My Life.)

I recently received some fan mail from a lovely young lady who is embarrassed by her seemingly bizarre condition. My friend, Annabelle Gordon, chews and reswallows regurgitated foodstuffs for minutes and sometimes hours after she eats. Annabelle began her struggle with eating as early as 9, when she began to diet and over-exercise. At fourteen, she was taking laxatives, and at fifteen, she suffered from a full blown eating disorder, involving severe restriction, compulsive exercise, self-mutilation, as well as binging and purging. Her family intervened early on. Annabelle was hospitalized twice and underwent a four-month day-treatment program for adolescents with eating disorders. Over many years, Annabelle has worked to hard to maintain a healthy weight and eliminate most of her eating disorder symptoms. Unfortunately, she continues to struggle with rumination, an unusual but pervasive symptom that significantly diminishes her quality of life.
After talking to the experts, I discovered that there is much confusion around Rumination Syndrome. The condition is mainly seen in infants and people with intellectual disabilities or autism. Because it is so rare in other populations, Rumination Syndrome in adults is frequently mistaken for Bulimia. However, in Bulimia, the patient ALWAYS purges the regurgitated food/vomit, while in Rumination Sundrome, the food is most often reswallowed. Annabelle says that one of her doctors also dismissed her symptoms as Gastro Esophageal Reflux Disorder (GERD). But unlike GERD, the act of regurgitation in Rumination Syndrome is voluntary.

I believe that this is one of the reasons why Annabelle is so ashamed of her affliction. Who would intentionally vomit in her mouth over and over again? One would think that such an unpleasant experience would be easy to avoid. I beg to differ. Read on.

Dearest Annabelle. I urge you to put your shame on the shelf. True to its name, your condition is a syndrome. It is absolutely an illness and not a vice. You did not choose to perpetually endure vomit in your mouth any more than I chose the infected ingrown hairs which emerged following my last bikini waxing. Last week I taught yoga at a benefit for Breast Cancer Research. It would have been absurd for me to berate one of the survivors for having required a mastectomy. So too is it absurd for you to blame yourself for having rumination.
For some reason, in the area of mental illness, people tend to associate the illness with the patient. Alas, this fact impedes the most crucial ingredient to your recovery: self-esteem. No one ever flew to the moon by calling herself a piece of shit. In order to transform your esophagus into a one-way street, you must transform the way you see yourself. Hence, in the following list, along with some physical strategies which may help reduce your symptoms, I offer some suggestions on how you might learn to love and approve of yourself unconditionally.

1) Find your person. Choose someone, a shrink, counsellor, friend, family member, yoga teacher, barista or mail carrier who you can talk to about anything, no matter what. I don't want to get hokey or new age on you, but did you ever consider that there was something symbolic about always having vomit in your mouth and throat? Are there issues in your life you're afraid to talk about? Are you ruminating about something you're afraid to say? Practice communicating with someone you trust. It may also be useful to meditate on your throat chakra. Stimulate this chakra by repeating its beeja sound: HAM (pronounced HUM).

2.) While we're talking about chakras, you might want to bring your attention to your navel chakra. Among many other things, the navel, or manipura chakra governs our digestive organs. On an esoteric level, it is related to our ability to digest life. Therefore, dear Annabelle, you might examine your life to determine if it contains any indigestible elements. If this is the case, perhaps chanting the navel chakra sound "RAM" (pronounced RUM), will accelerate the elimination process. So too might digestive enzymes.

3) Relax around food. Eat slowly, without being neurotic about it. Eating too fast may aggravate your esophagus and digestive organs. Also, be sure to eat regularly and to eat enough. Often, rumination is used to compensate for undereating. It creates the illusion that the person is taking multiple bites of a certain food when really she is simply tasting the same morsel over and over again. Being well nourished will help reduce the tendency to prolong restrictive meals with rumination. Acquire the support you need in order to establish a healthy, eating routine. Try not to worry about getting fat. Send cosmic love from your heart to your thighs, and any other tortured body part. In time, you'll realize that they're as beautiful as diamonds.

4) Find healthy substitutions to ruminating. Typically, this does not involve drinking in solitude. That said, life's a bit much sometimes. Most of us require a safety net to run away to occasionally. Personally, I escape with my magic silver horse at least once a week. I also enjoy Grey's Anatomy in all its seasons. Perhaps you're more partial to musical theatre.

5) Although understandably, you probably wish that your esophageal transformation had occurred last Easter, try to have a moment-to-moment approach as you make these courageous and lifelong changes. When you and Rumination Syndrome finally part ways forever and ever Amen (which you will!), no ugly God is going to throw pizzas at you because you didn't do everything perfectly all at once. Your mistakes and stumbles are merely aberrations, but your moments of victory and transcendence remain forever etched upon your soul. Don't let anyone try to convince you otherwise.
Best of luck, dear Annabelle and let me know how it goes!

Much Love from the Exuberant Bodhisattva. 

The End.

 
 
Much Love from the Exuberant Bodhisattva.
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I Let Go, by Erica J. Schmidt

The Benefits of an Ashtanga Yoga Practice, Part Two
Are You Strong or Are You Skinny?
God Box
 
 

Thursday, 21 April 2011

Holy Thursday.

Some yogis write about the way stars align.
Maybe I can do that tomorrow.
But today I am writing about what Jesus might have done over 2000 years ago.
And now all the Catholics are doing it.
Washing each other's feet.

I am not Catholic, I am vegetarian.
However, once upon a time I went to Catholic mass twice a week.
It was part of my job, but maybe deep down I wanted to be Catholic too.
This desire didn't work out. 
I didn't make a collage about it, and so the dream didn't come true.

The first time I was at a foot washing service,
I was astounded
and thought there was some mistake. 
Apparently, the disciples were also astounded.
They say that's what Jesus was going for.  The big shock.  Shock and awe. He was adamant.
And he had good bandhas.

There are many impressive stories about Jesus.
Water to wine,
Eyes for the blind,
Curing the leper.  (Pattabhi Jois did that too!)
But maybe the most important thing Jesus ever showed us was to stay low to the ground.
And not for you, for someone else.
Stay low to the ground,
And you can be a little like God.

The End.

Notes from 2016:

I don’t remember being so vocal about God back then.
 I don’t remember a moment when I suddenly felt less convinced about God.
And ended up talking about God less.
How do I feel about God now? I’m not sure.
Probably I still agree with staying low to the ground for someone else.

Twitter: @mypelvicfloor 
I Let Go 
 

Sunday, 27 March 2011

SPRINGTIME GRANOLA: The Cereal Personality Quiz

Springtime often comes with the urge to do a complete overhaul of your life.  Perhaps you feel compelled to sell all your clothes, fly across the world and live in a muddy pond.  As the snow melts and warm breezes flood you, seemingly excellent ideas arise.  Although there is a seed of wisdom within every impulse, no enormous decision should be made without a minimal level of self-awareness.  Friends who were able to attend my Granola Party last year are good to go.  Read no further.  Fly away to a muddy pond.  But if you were so unfortunate as to miss out, this revealing quiz is for you!  A reminder that this is not a contest and God loves all cereal personality types equally.   Thus, there is no need for cheating!!!  Good luck!

   
TEST YOUR CEREAL PERSONALITY TYPE.  GAIN DELIGHT AND INSIGHT

 

1.     On a camping trip, limited to one staple delicacy, you are most likely to choose:

A)      Hot Dogs.
B)       SMORES-Ask PETE LAVOIE if you don’t know what those are.
C)       French Toast.
D)      Bagels and Cream Cheese.
E)       Spirulina Hemp Energy Bars.
F)       Whatever is locally available.

2.       The worst place to get a zit is:

A)  The unspeakable location.
B)  Between your armpit and your nipple.
C)  On your ass.
D)  On your hairline.
E)  In your ear.
F)  On your forehead.

3.       The most awesome Sesame Street character is:

A)      The puppet with the pink face who played the piano.  Betty Lou or Mary Sue or something along those lines.
B)       Cookie Monster.
C)       Oscar the Grouch.
D)      Susan the deaf lady.
E)       Elmo.
F)       The Count.

4.       For you, the optimal offspring would be

A)      A tambourine and a triangle.
B)       A budgie and a jar of ants.
C)       A girl and a boy.
D)      Two girls and one boy.
E)       One girl and two boys.
F)       Six rabbits.

5.       When you were a kid, your favourite fairy tale was

A)      Beauty and the Beast.
B)       Jack and the Beanstalk.
C)       The Little Mermaid.
D)      Snow White.
E)       Hansel and Gretel.
F)       Peter Pan.

6.       The body part which causes you the most grief is

A)Testicles or Ovaries.
B) Hair.
C) Nose.
D) Intestines large or small.
E) I am unconditionally hot, like Peter Lavoie.
F) A proportional issue such as bum-to-breast ratio.

NE TRICHEZ PAS!!!  DON'T CHEAT!  For best results, scroll down...




















FOR YOUR RESULTS, COUNT HOW MANY OF EACH LETTER YOU OBTAINED AND TURN THE PAGE!!!

MOSTLY A’s:  CONGRATULATIONS, you are CORN POPS.  Deeply connected to your core values, you radiate lighthearted yet very profound wisdom. Though sometimes taken for granted, you are truly a treasure in any workplace or social setting.

MOSTLY B’S:  CONGRATULATIONS, you are REESE COCOA PUFFS.  Aesthetics and sensory experiences are  important to you.  Some may resent your poise, beauty and style, but focus on those who appreciate your talents.  You are delicious and lots of fun.

MOSTLY C’s:  CONGRATULATIONS, you are BRANFLAKES.  Your priorities lie in making sure that life runs smoothly and efficiently.  You avoid confrontations, but secretly long for something that appears beyond your reach.  Take heart though friend, you may be mistaken.

MOSTLY D’s:  CONGRATULATIONS, you are FRENCH TOAST CRUNCH.  You prefer things to be contained in crisp, compact squares.  But don’t be mislead or misleading by this simplicity.  Often your alleged “low-maintenance persona disguises an agonizing perfectionism.  Just ask Snow White.

MOSTLY E’s SLASH A LITTLE BIT OF EVERYTHING:  CONGRATULATIONS’ you are GRANOLA.  You grace the planet with your confident and sexy presence.  However, beware of your tendency to become narcissistic and selfish.  Strive for humility.  People like that.

MOSTLY F’s:  CONGRATULATIONS, you are OATMEAL.  Warm and practical, you don’t want things to be more complicated than they have to be.  That said, you possess idealistic spiritual aspirations and long to transcend superficial trivialities.  Don’t waste your time on internet dating sites. 

FINAL NOTE:  Celebrate your brand new, crucial insight by creating a poem, story, song, painting and/or papier maché construction about how it feels to be your respective cereal personality.  Then take a bath.  Then send me what you made so I can decorate my new pond. XOM.
 

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Twitter: @mypelvicfloor
I Let Go, by Erica J. Schmidt

The Ocean Invertebrate Personality Quiz
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Sunday, 20 March 2011

Karma is Simple: Haikus for People Who Like Counting syllables

Now it is 2016. I am giving the blog a mini makeover.
Although the simplicity of Karma is up for debate, I still love haikus, so this one made the cut.
 
Karma is Simple, Haikus by Erica J. Schmidt
 
Karma is simple.
Scratch your head and dandruff falls.
Flakes on your shoulders.

 Karma is simple. 
Drink, pee.  Eat, pooh.  Sex, herpes.
Fall, break.  Onion Breath.

Karma is simple.
Call yourself a piece of shit,
You won't feel awesome.

Jesus brought great news,
But he's not the Karmic boss.
Karma hates bosses.

Karma's on Facebook.
You can give it a thumbs up.
Become Karma's fan.

Crucify, redeem.
Karma does both these things.
Between flakes and gold.
 
The End.
 
 
Karma is simple.
Feet in Ganga, feet get cold.
Smile anyway.
-Rishakesh, 2015
 
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I Let Go, by Erica J. Schmidt

Memoirs of a Brief Affair
Prozac Made Me A Better Person
Prozac Made Me A Better Dancer

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Friday, 11 March 2011

How Do You Get Through Your Day-To-Day Life

These days, whenever something horrendous and traumatic happens in the world, I wonder what it must be like to be old.  To have seen so many catastrophes-wars, tsunamis, terrorist attacks, cancer, spinal cord injuries, mudslides-and still remain adequately composed to make the bed every morning and buy groceries.  I remind myself a little bit of Mike Kyle, a middle-aged man with an intellectual disability.  I met Mike at a relatively Christian summer camp.  He always volunteered to say grace.  Without fail, his grace was full of deep and impossible existential questions for God.

"God, how did you make the world?  You're so big and so nice and I just don't understand.  And Todd drives me nuts.  I wish he didn't, but he does.  And God, I don't know what to do...."

On a couple of occasions, at the breakfast table, or on the dock, where I served as a lifeguard, Mike would peer at me with scrunched up eyes and utter bewilderment.  Earnestly he'd ask, "Erica.  How do you get through your day-to-day life?"  At the time, I was only seventeen.  I probably smiled and thought, what a sweet man. Perhaps I offered an answer, but certainly it wouldn't have satisfied Mike's concern and curiosity.  "I don't know, Mike.  I just do.  It's just one of those things."

Mike Kyle died four or five years ago.  He was brushing his teeth.  Either he choked on his toothbrush or part of his toast from breakfast. Another tragedy to add to the tsunamis and the spinal cord injuries. I'm certain he would have been devastated to hear about the earthquake in Japan.  "But why, God?  Why?"

I don't know, Mike. It's just one of those things. But it's hard to get through our day-to-day lives, isn't it?

Peace to the world on this difficult day.

The End.


Ajanta Caves, India, December 2015

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What People Really Need
How I Am Old

Wednesday, 2 March 2011

Castles in the Basement

Those of you who know me may be aware that I am a recovering self-help book junkie.  Before admitting that I was powerless over my affliction and surrendering my suffering to high power, I came across Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way:  A Spiritual Path Towards Higher Creativity.    The Artist's Way is geared towards “blocked creatives” whose inner artist children have been deeply wounded, preventing them from producing the very excellent novels, sculptures, haikus and pottery that lie deep within.  I had never heard of Julia Cameron’s excellent novels, sculptures, haikus and pottery, but my own writing career had barely blossomed beyond dabbling in adolescent notebooks and journals.  Hence, I diagnosed my artist child as “VERY WOUNDED” and embarked on Julia Cameron’s prescribed spiritual journey. 

Along the lines of many other 12-step programs, The Artist’s Way is divided into twelve chapters. Each one is focussed on different recovery themes.  In Chapter one, we “recover a sense of safety,” reclaiming our right to live happy, creative and free existences, free of dysfunction and vice.  We compose affirmations:

“I, Erica Schmidt, can write a marvellous novel with joy, ease and without taking up narcotics.”  We address our creative injuries and forgive our grade two teacher Mrs. Douglas for not casting us as Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.

In Chapter 6, we recover a sense of abundance and allow ourselves to throw out ugly clothes and buy our favourite fruits and vegetables even if they’re not on sale.  We can affirm this:

I, Erica Schmidt, buy and eat blueberries. 

Julia Cameron is adamant that it’s never too late to recover and discover a dormant and repressed artistic adventure.  She was also adamant that we should each commit ourselves, every day for the rest of our lives, to a daily practice called, “Morning Pages.”

In order to become a writer of morning pages, set your alarm 30 minutes early and use this time to write uninhibitedly for 3 pages. 

“But Julia Cameron,” you might protest. (I like to call her J.C.)  “I’m not a writer.  I want to carve ducks.”

“Phooey!” J.C. proclaims.  “Morning pages are not supposed to be REAL WRITING.”  Instead they are designed as a potent preparatory tool to serve you for the rest of your inspired, basket-weaving, duck-carving , narcotic-free, blueberry-filled existence.  JC considers morning pages to be a sort of Active Meditation during which all the greatest irritations and desires of your unconscious emerge to the surface.  By confronting various existential voids and hang-ups, we may magically devise more effective methods of doing our laundry, quitting our jobs and leaving the country.  In addition, you may also become aware of your deep longing to wax your pubic hair or have your toenails removed.  Finally, behind the details of laundry, hygienic ambitions and bad sex, artists may also uncover insight on their own art; lines from a poem, an image, an interesting character called Annabelle Gordon who could potentially make her way into your next short story.  Fabulous.  But again, “Morning pages are not REAL WRITING.” 

For four or five years, more or less every morning, I have diligently woken up, grabbed a pen and strived to reveal my higher creative self.  I don’t regret one page.  There is something redeeming and enlightening about forcing yourself to transcribe the details of your existence.  I have made interesting discoveries. 

“Too much coffee.  Out of toilet paper.”

“Bellydancing is a bit of a misnomer.”

“The dishes are full of sink.”

“I hate hamsters”

And poetic declarations: 

“I cannot throw knives at the walls of bathroom stalls.” 

“So much depends upon ovulation”

“A is for Alveolar Palate”

As well as extremely useful imperatives:

Get over Mike Snow. 

Act like a child of God.

Call your dentist.   Book a pap smear.

So as I said, no regrets.  However, I think it’s time to re-examine my tactics.  I now have piles of notebooks, filled with industriously scrawled  bits of self-awareness.  I’m all for self-awareness, and I like that my morning page have helped me keep track of the last couple of years.  I just don’t think that this ritual needs to take such a large place in my “Artist Routine.” 

I, Erica Schmidt, have maxed out on self-awareness. 

During my spiritual path towards higher creativity and beyond, there were many days when the only REAL writing I ever did was morning pages.  Alas, as JC maintains, is not actually REAL writing.  She’s right:  it’s brain puke.  Vomit is deceptively tasty when it hasn’t yet acquired too much acidity.  But most often, vomit is a personal thing that you don’t show other people. 

My friend Simon likens my morning page routine to “building castles in the basement.”  Your construction skills may improve and the process may be valuable, but your castles will never grow very high.  Plus, you’ll probably never finish one.  For me, the chronically unfinished novel (or any other writing project) is one of the most painful diseases you can endure.  Perhaps some people do just write, simply for the sake of writing.  The final product isn’t important and they don’t desire any sort of praise or recognition for their work.  They truly love writing and that is enough.  But I think that deep down, many of us basement writers have something we really want to share.  We want to connect with other people and we want to be understood. 

I would keep writing even if nobody read another word I ever wrote.  These days, this desire has become increasingly clear to me as I write my morning pages.  And it has become increasingly clear to me that whining about pap smears and laundry in a cute little pink notebook is not helping me connect with other readers.  Hence, I woke up this morning with the clear conviction that I would forego the thirty minutes of private agonizing over my existence. 

I, Erica Schmidt, hereby cease to build castles in the basement.

Get to your novel!  Your blog!  Flesh out those characters from your play! Anything besides whining about your life for three pages and thirty minutes.

I tried.  But the heaping basket of dirty clothes smells like mildew.  The only "clean" shirt I have smells like mildew.  Yesterday, two and a half new job prospects were probably extinguished.  It’s been a year since my last pap smear.  And I still can’t do karandavasana.  What to do with this agony?

I made coffee, opened my notebook and began my daily purge of written angst.  As Margaret Atwood says, “Old neurological pathways die hard.”  

The End.

I Let Go, by Erica J. Schmidt
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