What was great about yesterday.

What was great
about yesterday:
Montreal
Minus 18 degrees.
Minus even colder than fuck
With the wind chill.

I woke up,

Meditated with a book on my head,
Bended,
Twisted
And balanced my various spines
In ways that felt
Invigorating
Healing
And interesting.

Lay down and listened

To Krista Tippet
interview Matthew Sanford,
a yoga teacher
who became a paraplegic
when he was thirteen years old.

 All my life,

(And I don’t know why),
I've been terrified
of spinal cord injuries
while also incredibly fascinated
to hear the stories
of those who find themselves
with such an experience.

What I learned from Matthew

is that even when faced
with unimaginable
trauma
and loss,
Your body will never desert you.

In the meantime,
there is likely
not much use
to fretting over
the specific way
your cells may
or may not
deteriorate.

Krista Tippet’s voice

is soothing and compassionate,
filled with love
and exquisite curiosity.

Curiosity

seems to be
the next big thing.

As for this Saturday,

the morning’s
next big item
was mailing tie-dyed t. shirts
at the post office.

The post office provides

a tangible adult activity
that makes me feel smug
and brings deep satisfaction

Further smugness awaited

at the Renaissance
of Plaza St-Hubert.
where me
and Maxine,
the belov-ed,
foraged through aisles
of astonishing clothing
and emerged
with astonishing bargains.

Then


the Jean Talon market

generously
welcomed me
for apple and
root vegetable shopping;

The market is always
so happy to see me,
withholding judgment
even though I hate cooking.

The vegetables

would not need
cooking
that night
because my sweet Caroline
had invited me for dinner.

Over pasta we discussed

all our favourites:
Dead Inside Men,
Attachment Wounds,
Youtube Astrologers,
The Bachelor,
Preparing for the future,
Climate Change,
Plus all the virtues
Of culinary rebellion.

Throughout all the evening

the joy was unrestrained.

Sweet Caroline and I

both believe
in the radical act
of walking
through all weather.

From Rosemont to Mile End,

we entered the wind chill,

colder than fuck

or worse.

At Cagibi,

we recovered our strength
over peanut butter squares,
highly sophisticated,
and impressively surpassing
our geriatric bedtimes.

Thank you, World,

and March 11th
for this beautiful day.

“What was great about today,
And yesterday”
Was inspired by Guru Bram Levinson.

Last week I wrote to Bram
with bitter baggage
about how my family
longed for me to go
to what I had facetiously named
the three-day Oppressive
Happiness Seminar,
because I was not
fulfilling what could be
my Enormous Potential.

Bram was not
entirely convinced
that the (O).
H.S.
contained all the answers,

And from what I understood,

It seems
I could
forgo
The (O).
H.S.
And still remain
a relatively
reasonable person.

 Relieved, I asked,

“But, Guru Bram,
Do tell!
If not the (O).
H.S.
Then what
Is your secret to
Success?”

“Hehe,”

Said G.B.
“Authenticity, service.
Keep it positive
And never contribute
To the stream of negative
That seems to be
Everywhere.”

Clearly I will fail

at this most of the time.
But here is what was great
About yesterday.

And in the days that come

Whenever I fail,
I will try to fail with love
And fail funnier.

The End.

 

On Being with Krista Tippet and Matthew Sanford
Bram Levinson's Blog
Bram Levinson's Book, The Examined Life 

Here I am
wearing
the Vagina Dress
in February.


Not everyone understands
why I call it
the Vagina Dress.


In case it sparks joy
the dress is for sale.


It might also double
as a skirt
with a very forgiving waist.



Exuberant Bodhisattva on Facebook
Twitter: @mypelvicfloor
I Let Go

Bodhisattva Business Ventures:

Deep Cleans by Erica J. Schmidt (@deepcleanswitherica)
Montreal Hippie Threads (@mtlhippiethreads)
Instagram: montrealhippiethreads


A Broken Body is not a Broken Spirit
I do not know how to fulfill my enormous potential.
Erin Ball, My Favourite Acrobat




Three Easy Strategies
for Feeling Smug
and On Top of Life

Why I Am Like Oprah: A Response to Adam Grant's "(...) 'Be Yourself' is Terrible Advice"

A successful writer from the New York Times says, “Unless you’re Oprah, ‘be yourself’ is terrible advice.” In a moment of deep authenticity, author Adam Grant claims that “Nobody wants to see your true self. We all have thoughts and feelings that we believe are fundamental to our lives, but that are better left unspoken."

I would tend to disagree. Also, since when is Oprah the epitome of authenticity?” My sense is she is somewhat performative. The benefits of being yourself depend on how charming and delightful you are.

Oprah Lives Her Best Life. These days, we have similar hair.

According to Grant, “Authenticity means erasing the gap between what you firmly believe inside and what you reveal to the outside world.” For me the gap is tiny, and possibly non-existent. I take pride in this gaplessness, even if my life has not been as lucrative or famous as Oprah’s. Eventually, life pays off. After four years, my highly authentic self-help book, “I Let Go” earned 100 bucks in royalties. I used the money to buy a delightful pink and purple polka dot duvet cover which, along with its enveloped duvet, I do my best to hump regularly, despite Prozac’s adverse sexual side effects.

Duvet Dreams
Why I am like Margaret Atwood and what I don't gain from humping duvets.

These days, perhaps due to my excessive and reprehensible authenticity, I don’t tend to work all that much. Unlike the rest of this manic planet, I am not particularly busy. As a result, I possess something that almost nobody else has. Not Oprah, not Adam Grant, not even Margaret Atwood. It’s called time.

One of my favourite things to do with my time is to talk to my friends and loved ones about their lives. Although I may seem like a chronic and narcissistic verbal machine gun, in fact, I happen to have both listening skills, and friends. As fate would have it (a phrase that frequently emerges in my most authentic word choices), many of these friends like to tell me about their problems.

From what I can tell, some of the most painful situations emerge from certain friends’ inability to be transparent and honest about their personal lives. Having to conceal what’s really going on looks like an exhausting and impossible burden.

Pretending may make the world go round, but it also causes people to die inside, one to one billion cells at a time.

That’s why I canned things with the Married Man. I felt it was causing other people’s cells to die.

According to Adam Grant, “No one wants to hear everything that’s in your head. They just want you to live up to what comes out of your mouth.” According to me, these two things do not have to be mutually exclusive. (“Mutually exclusive” is another one of my higher authentic self’s most genuine expressions.) More importantly, I would be delighted to hear everything that’s in your head. It would be a privilege. If your head needs hearing, I am here to listen, any day of the week. Hit me up and we can meet for doughnuts. Or performative grilled cheese. Or a nice long people walk.

“Be yourself” is not terrible advice. If our authentic selves cause various structures to collapse, perhaps they were already due for the crumbling. A world without radical honesty feels tragic to me. For this reason, I resolve to be myself for the rest of my life. Lucrative, prestigious, intellectual, coherent, full sentences, or not. Feel free to join me and Oprah.

The End.

Unless You're Oprah, "Be Yourself" is Terrible Advice, by Adam Grant
Brené Brown's response to "Unless You're Oprah, 'Be Yourself' is Terrible Advice."
Also, there is Butt Club tomorrow at Parc Laurier. 6 PM, north of the pool.

BE YOURSELF!
Exuberant Bodhisattva on Facebook
Twitter: @mypelvicfloor

I Let Go by Erica J. Schmidt

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