Oiselle

Split-sand

2013-01-05T14:12:00.000-08:00

I've been waiting for 2013 to arrive. Leaving 2012 where it belongs: in the past, behind me, an ephemeral mess; on a positive note, I see it as the sandbox. A desert. With few tools at my disposal -- the task is to build a castle or a commune. Why not build both? Sweat and tears eroded the grains of sand: split them in two, known as split-sand in the box. Enough for both. Was it my resourcefulness or good luck that convinced me to be ambitious? I build on, day and night (even while I rest for the night). Rest isn't what 2012 gave me. I fought to keep hope alive all year. Hope that my kin have a place on this hard earth, which is made only of coarse sand. Light and dark and sleep-thoughts and split-sand, add sweat and tears. Continue, I thought, to shape the sand into meaningful shelters and homes for my kin. There it is! My hope surrounded me in my sandbox. Some homes stood empty. Barren blocks in a barren box. Hope could not convince time to spare my kin. In a few moments, our flood of tears carved out smaller and smaller and smaller grains of sand. The fine sand, split-in-many, gave way. Mercy for those kin that we cared for deeply and unbounded-by-time.

I emerge scathed. Of this, there is no doubt. In no time, my kin built a ladder of kindly smile-gazes, warm-knitted conversations, silky-winded words, OH! and best of the bunch -- blanket-fortress-built hugs, which haven't been seen since the time of the youngins.

The ladder still stands. I force my tears back, to drip down my neck, behind my back like a liquid-woven cloak. The tears never reach the ladder, which I have propped up beneath my shoulder, held in my left hand. Light as a grain of split-sand, I keep it close. Useful for horizon-scopy, bridging (an esoteric function of this ladder, but incredibly durable and reusable), and most useful on days when few resources are handy to see beyond today's challenge.

While my left is determined to ladder-portage, my right hand seeks out adventures that will surely find me in 2013. When I made my way out of the sandbox of 2012, I brought most of my kin with me. With me on the older end of the ladder, I extended the love and split-sand ladder to all my travelling kin. They climb over. Time finally caught up, the last to arrive. I have discovered the most curious properties of sand and split-sand. There's always more sand, just wait for it. In the meantime, between-the-moments-of-time you acquire un-split-sand, mold the bonds that hold the split-sand together. Why use only sweat and tears to form split-sand? My kin built a ladder with little more than a few grains of split-sand and love. Effort-shared love vibrates in the ladder. Its music brings me and my kin hope. It sings of the past, the love that built the ladder, and hope for the future.

(This is a piece-in-progress.)

Could I walk again? Without a limp?

2012-10-30T06:53:00.002-07:00

What am I grateful for?

A year ago, almost to the day, I herniated a disc in my lower back. For months, I could hardly stand or walk. And now, I'm teaching Pilates (again) after a frightfully long hiatus.

In those early days of the injury, nothing I did or had done to me was giving me hope. No progress, no improvement. Acupuncture and physiotherapy with a wonderful therapist at Moksha Yoga North York got be back on my feet. I am indebted to Jenn.

At UofT, I took some brain sciences courses in psychology and in the education departments. Long trips on the subway in 2010 gave me some time to read up on the brain. Smart girl. I didn't realize I was putting down the foundation for my own physical therapy! I actually read my textbook (shock!) and Brain Rules by John Medina, which I highly recommend for anyone who is interested in current ideas about how the brain operates. (More on this later.)

Pilates, my practice, every single morning -- that was the only physical movement or exercise that didn't let me down, or at least didn't make me feel like my body was letting me down. In the long months that followed, I am walking. Without a limp.

Pilates in the park

2012-10-20T15:23:00.000-07:00

From the weather reports, Toronto will be a fall paradise tomorrow. In that case, I'm taking a walk in the Don Valley among the ochre- and flame-coloured drifting terrain.

Pilates in the Valley means listening to life around me. The water sounds and birds, including a Blue Heron I saw in the spring, remind me to stay focused on the mechanics of my own movements and pace in my practice.

Indoor classes are fun, don't get me wrong. Calming scenery motivates me to slow down my thoughts and see each functional posture in its full elegance. Winter is coming. I'll take advantage of any warm days to experience Pilates in a natural space. The colder it gets the more I'll rely on my Pilates Anytime videos. How you noticed the wonder backdrop of the ocean in these videos? What envy!

Stay healthy, my friends.

Pilates Anytime

2012-10-19T00:24:00.002-07:00

Tonight I taught Pilates at George Vanier S.S. on Don Mills Road, near Sheppard Avenue East. Instructing at three different schools around Toronto is challenging, especially with over 100 students in all of my classes. It's the class I look forward to the most because it's the most interesting bunch of folks. The ages range drastically along with other demographics like race or ethnicity and physical ability. Last week Thursday at Vanier, I noticed that so many of my students had little or no body awareness. These might be minute details: point and flex exercises were performed poorly, so I did some reading about the foot and posture. And then, I watched Lolita ... I truly believe that the basis for good posture begins with the feet. I've worked very diligently over the years to keep my feet healthy! It was wonderful to see that someone else out there teaches this, too. Near the end of the video she shows the class how to use an elastic band to strengthen toes and prevent or correct bunions. I've been doing this exercise for several years now. Happy feet.