How I Really Haven't Changed Much Since I Was 17...

I've been staying at my parents all weekend.  Every time I spend an extended period of time in this house I can't help but remember my childhood growing up here.  I revisit old books I loved so much I wore the spines out.  This past weekend I found my journal from when I was 17 years old - going on to my senior year in high school.

Let me just quote some of the ridiculousness here:

July 30, 2001
The world is fake and the reality becomes the superficiality of the world, but if perception is reality than is everything just some big illusion?  Is the world a lie?  There is corruption at all levels and I wonder where the honesty went and what happens when it's all gone.  Is it all gone?

Typical thoughts for a 17 year old kid...

Or this gem:

I wish there were no price for freedom.

 Really Jen?! This is hilarious.  Or how about quoting Catcher in the Rye (I can totally tell I was reading this book by my style of prose at this particular moment by the way):

It's funny.  All you have to do is say something nobody understands they'll practically do anything for you.  -J.D. Salinger

There's a shocking amount of things written about boys that I don't even remember.  This brings me some peace 10 years later knowing that the guy(s) that I crush on now I probably won't remember later.

So if you're wondering if I was always this intense, the answer is yes.  Also, reading this brought on a humbling realization that I haven't changed much.  I still talk about the existentialists and the fate and plight of humanity and of course, guys. Though, I'd like to think I'm slightly more optimistic in my philosophical approach these days.

Hot Button Issue: Unbottoning Down

My yoga teacher that evening was a thin muscular guy with grayish black hair and this fierce vitality that is both incredibly compelling and abrasive all at once. He’s the type of guy that swears in the middle of class so that all the serious yogis can let go of their “good/evil” references.  He can be really annoying when he’s telling you to get into these impossible contortions while maintaining complete awareness of your breath, tailbone, toes and fingertips all at once.  He goes out of his way to mimic the chatter in your mind during your practice, if only to point it out to you.

I had heard of those tricksters that come into your life to test you; the ones that will bring out your demons and push all of your buttons so that you recognize the buttons you have. 

“We cannot always control what happens to us, but we CAN control how we react.  That’s yoga; understanding your reactions and learning to control them.  It’s a discipline.”

I wasn’t controlling it. I was angry.  Didn’t he understand how impossible his commands were?  We were in yoga class, not some sort of military drill.  How do you remember to track your breath, toes, bhandas and alignment in four breaths?  Who does he think we are? 

“Now you’re going to shift all of your weight onto your left foot.  Keep those toes lifted! Push your right leg up towards the sky behind you and stack your hips.”  I struggled to find my balance and he came up behind me to pull my right leg back into alignment – at his touch I collapsed.  We tried again, and once again I collapsed. 

“Trust me; you’ve got to trust me!” he said in a not so gentle tone.   “One more time; you can do this.”  I did it for a few seconds before he walked away and said “just do your best.”

Button #1: Trust.  That’s a loaded word right there.  I’m barely learning to trust my own body to get into these poses, much less some guy adjusting me in yoga class. 

You’d be amazed at the things that run past your mind when you’re trying your hardest not to hold onto anything that comes into your mind.  Here I am in a balance pose remembering the day my body betrayed me.

I was in the fourth grade and had quite the audience awaiting my performance in my front yard.  The audience included my family and some of the older neighborhood boys.  I needed to prove myself.  I got into position: front foot perpendicular to my back foot; arms raised as I wind-milled my arms to the ground into a cartwheel.  The next thing I know, I’m in the car with my parents on the way to the hospital.

“I want the hot pink one,” I said to the nurse. There’s nothing like rocking a hot pink cast with all your boring outfits.  My right arm had suffered a sprain as I had put too much weight on it.

Back on the mat: I remember this now – the feeling of my body betraying me.  I was supposed to impress all of my friends with my amazing cartwheel and instead I collected signatures on my arm for six weeks.  Oh the humiliation!

My friend had a pin the other night that said “button free.”  I asked her what it meant.  She said that when she works with youth teaching them yoga or breath-work she teaches them to be “button free;” meaning having an awareness of their buttons so not to allow anyone else to push them.  

Damn good class (the swearing is to throw off all of the yogis).

Why I Really DO Love My Solo Life

What the hell does it say about me when my friends send me articles like this:

 

 “Lol-this article made me think of you: Ladies if You Want to Pick Up, Wait Until You're Ovulating."

  

I guess the advice is useful and from an evolutionary and genetic standpoint, it makes sense, but WHAT exactly do my friends think of me if articles like this remind them of me?

I went to my parents’ house a few weeks ago. We went out to eat and afterwards my mother decided that we should go to the huge statue of the Virgin Mary (Virgén de Guadalupe) to pray. I’m not one to pray to Christian relics (read more here), but she’s my mother so I reluctantly sat on the bench with her looking at the flowers, candles and souvenirs: the physical embodiment of heartfelt prayers left at the Virgin’s concrete feet.

I watched my mother’s face as she focused hard on something. I asked her what she was praying for thinking that maybe her cousin’s passing had weighed heavier in her mind than I had originally thought.

She turned to me and said, “I am praying that you find a husband soon.”  

Oh.my.GOD!!! I didn’t know whether I should burst out laughing at this statement or take it seriously and thus take a more sensitive approach. I couldn’t hold it. I laughed. Hard.

“Yenny, you know that this is how Juliana found her husband. Her mother prayed and prayed to La Virgén and now look, she is getting married.”

“Oh, I thought she was getting married because she’s seven months pregnant, but I see your point, it must be because La Virgén willed it.”  

“Yenny, la Virgén makes miracles happen.”

What the….?!?! Me finding a boyfriend is not a miracle! Oh dear God, is it? Maybe, considering the shitty dates I’ve had lately. Well, in that case, I guess I used to be a little miracle machine – like for more than 6 years of my life and I can tell you it didn’t feel THAT miraculous.

I had a conversation with some single friends of mine regarding everyone else’s’ emphasis on relationships. I didn’t notice when I was first starting my career how everyone always asked if I had a boyfriend. I must not have noticed because I gave them the right answer. I was always in a relationship; as such, people reacted very warmly to this asking me for details about whatever boyfriend I had at the time. It almost seemed comforting for others around me to know I had a boyfriend, especially my family, despite whether or not they liked the guy I was dating at the time.

Now all of a sudden someone asks and you say you’re not seeing anyone with a huge smile on your face and there’s still that silent awkward little pause or people say: oh don’t worry, you’ll find someone. Really? Oh good, I was worried that I was going to die alone with those nine cats that I’m allergic to in a lonely apartment on the south side with no friends and no children to take me to a nursing home. Thank you for reassuring that that won’t happen to me.

In these blogs, I feel as though maybe I focus on the bad parts of being single like the horrible dates, but truth be told, no one likes to read about the good ones because that’s boring. Also, I don’t go on good dates because I care too much about the blog and you fine people. 

But today I’d like to list the things I love about not being in a relationship:

• I have made SO MUCH art! I’m talking drawings, music, writing…
• I come and go as I please with no need to explain anything to anyone. Save for my job, I’m truly free to do what I want when I want without need for discussions or compromises.
• I’ve met so many new friends that I feel like I will know for life – some from having gone on dates with them and realizing that amazingly lovely friend vibe rather than a romantic one. Not being attached to a relationship opens doors for many other types of relationships to enter your life.
• I love finding comfort in feeling unsettled. It drives me more than most things in life. I am completely portable at all times. The world is my oyster – I can roam through it at any time seeking only to please and care for myself.
• There’s a sense of complete uncertainty that authors and poets romanticize in their memoirs that seems more prevalent when you’re single. The kind where you don’t know exactly where you’re going or how you’re going to get there, but you know you’re going somewhere. Freedom breeds a certain type of youth regardless of age where the ride of your life could be parked on the corner of the dance studio you pass by or it could be waiting for you downstairs from your favorite coffee shop.
• It’s summer and everyone tends to wear less clothing and since you’re single, you can look AND touch.  
• You actually have time between your job and career oriented activities to nurture your hobbies, go back to school, and hang out with new and old friends.
• You don’t feel dependent on anyone. You are a full and whole person on your own. Regardless of how independent you may feel in your relationship there will always be shared activities and things that the other person takes over doing for you because they’re better at it (like dividing household chores or finances or even being the “strong one” usually). When you’re alone there’s a growth that occurs that is unparalleled to growing with another person. Many times it’s from having to do those tasks you don’t like; or having to be that person that you’re not best at being (like the serious one when you thrive on being the fun one).
• I love being my own best company and being completely content without missing anyone else when I’m alone.

To travel young and poor vs. old and rich

I was speaking with a male friend regarding my travels and how I wanted to see so much more of the world within the next few years.

He said, quite logically and practically, that he would like to wait until he was older and established financially to travel.

"In your 20s you can pull off the all nighters.  Your mind and body are prepared for it.  It's your 20s that you should work really hard for what you want.  That way, when I'm older I can travel anywhere and not worry about money or having a home.  I will already have all those things," he says.

Happy Travels!  Monument Valley, Utah

His argument makes sense.  My parents will agree with it; career counselors would approve and my resume would look better if I thought that way too, but I don't.

Here's why:

1. Tomorrow is not guaranteed.
2. If it were guaranteed, one must remember that travelling has the capacity to change your perspective and open your mind A LOT.  When you are young your mind is still in formation about many opinions you may have and thus willing to adapt more to the culture around you.  You can accept a growth in perspective more easily than when you are older.  Furthermore you potentially have more years to live with this newly acquired wisdom.
3. How are you going to surf the huge waves of Puerto Escondido or climb up the highest pyramid at 70 years old?  Perhaps you will have amazing genetics and take really good care of your body and be able to do so , but again that is not guaranteed.
4. There is so much of this world to see like South America, Asia, Africa, Europe and everything in between.  You should get started now.
5. Traveling with little money is fun!  You get to know the country more because you have more interaction with the people.  Sure, when you are rich you can stay at the five star hotels and be pampered, but you'll likely only take the safe tours with other tourists and shy away from meeting the actual people of the country because you're older and perhaps more fearful of the native people taking advantage of you and stealing your retirement funds or identity.  When you're young you have a lot less to lose so you stay at a hostel, meet other travelers and get the low down on the next places to visit on your adventure.  It's a far more communal atmosphere that lends itself to meeting new people from different places.  Traveling from place to place for cheap means you get to travel with the people of the country and observe their culture in public settings.  When you have the money to, you may be more inclined to take taxis and thus isolate yourself a lot more.
6. It's a scientific fact that one can learn new things such as languages faster as a younger person than as an older person.

Another aspect I factor into this conversation might as well be another blog post all together but I'm a woman, and as such I feel like I only have a limited amount of time to myself and to be completely selfish before deciding to start a family.  I only have a certain time frame in which I could physically have children so I don't have the luxury to put off things like backpacking the world until I'm 70.  I might be a grandmother then and perhaps not free enough to take off for a year on an adventure.

For the record: I have met plenty of older retired people traveling and they have told me to travel as much as I can when I'm young but they definitely seem to be enjoying their trips quite a bit and now can treat a young traveler like me to breakfast for conversation.  :)