<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486</id><updated>2011-08-05T12:40:22.255-07:00</updated><title type='text'>try to be a sheet of paper with nothing on it</title><subtitle type='html'>my thoughts exactly.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>48</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-4350438624916056084</id><published>2010-10-04T09:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T09:50:35.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and then fall came</title><content type='html'>Learning about my body in this chronic pain yoga class. Holding patterns. How stress affects pain. Stored emotion. Reprogramming the body through somatic movements. Just two classes so far and I've received a wealth of information. GREAT instructor: www.twelvepetalswellness.com &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oct. 4 and quite chilly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to start teaching more starting next week. New places, new faces. A fresh new beginning. Each day is new here. Each breath a chance to become aware again and again of this very moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are so spoiled here, I hope they know it. Lakes all over our neighborhood and beyond. When you drive, lakes and trees and just gorgeous. At the dog park, a lake. First time driving to my new yoga class, two lakes. Everything is close and open at the same time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Animal Collective comes after Ani Difranco on the iTunes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Less and less pain when I design my life with good health in mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking the ego out of everything I do, a tall order and scary to face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoying time with Danielle and Turtle in our new home and I'm in love with those two.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-4350438624916056084?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4350438624916056084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=4350438624916056084' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/4350438624916056084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/4350438624916056084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2010/10/and-then-fall-came.html' title='and then fall came'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-1062204582144349603</id><published>2010-09-23T10:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-23T10:50:10.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Living In a Box</title><content type='html'>It's true that sometimes I can only listen to Apjiw - right now it's "Living In a Box" - and god, it's just so damn beautiful. It's mystical and pretty and gorgeous. All songs tell a story and I love that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-1062204582144349603?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/1062204582144349603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=1062204582144349603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/1062204582144349603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/1062204582144349603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2010/09/living-in-box.html' title='Living In a Box'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-832692258681114516</id><published>2010-09-19T06:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T06:19:25.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday morning</title><content type='html'>It's Sunday morning and I'm up early because I'm subbing a yoga class. Sipping on coffee after a shower and allowing time to pass. I like to give myself ample time to get ready...and I was going to do some sort of yoga before leaving but that's not happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loooove my new dance class at &lt;a href="http://www.zenondance.org/"&gt;Zenon Dance Company&lt;/a&gt;, it's perfect for me. I had one class so far. From the beginning of class, I knew I was in exactly the right place for me. I have this little dream that I'm going to keep taking classes and get better and better and then who knows? Maybe I'll make it to the stage someday. The style I'm learning - "modern" - is so appropriate for me, why did I not do this sooner? The teacher is great, the other students range from the most beginner to professional, and it was a fun class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danielle and I now go to the &lt;a href="http://www.wedge.coop/"&gt;Wedge Co-op&lt;/a&gt; and love it! It's a place that I WANT to do my grocery shopping, and all the local stuff is marked by which farm it came from or at least if it came from Minnesota. Prices aren't bad, and it's just a good place to be. I'm feeling it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the Yoga for Chronic Pain class I'll be taking can't come soon enough. I signed up for this in I think early August and it's starting Sept. 26. I had to have an initial intake with the teacher and she knows her stuff. I felt very comfortable with her. I'm really looking forward to this class and learning more about Yoga Therapy, something I've wanted to research and learn about for a while now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cold weather has arrived. Well, not super winter cold but it's definitely fall. Feels great outside. I know they don't get a long fall here. Yesterday it started in the 50s...and went up to 62 I think. I'm just not used to that on Sept. 18. But...it's all good and we'll survive! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-832692258681114516?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/832692258681114516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=832692258681114516' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/832692258681114516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/832692258681114516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2010/09/sunday-morning.html' title='Sunday morning'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-5056125770312858016</id><published>2010-09-15T09:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T09:52:38.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stars</title><content type='html'>I'm listening to Stars in my living room, which is sort of the bulk of the apartment I guess: living room/kitchen/dining room all in one room combo. It feels cozy especially since incense is burning and a candle and the gloomy sky turned gloomier and it's now raining. Luckily it's not coming in windows and so they're open and I can here the rain, the cars, a little bit of the world outside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I start a dance class. I will be taking beginning modern dance at Zenon Dance School. I'm happy I signed up for it, and looking forward to whatever happens. I had a dream that I was on a stage and some music was playing and I was doing my thing, dancing to it. It turned out I had an audience and afterward there were nothing but nice things to say about my "performance." Music has always been a huge part of my life, and I went from dance to playing instruments to dancing for fun and teaching yoga. I need movement in my life. Sometimes I just want to stay on the couch and it's when I decide to get up and get into my body that life makes a little more sense for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think about me teaching yoga a lot these days because I'm starting over with it. I want to be a good teacher and I feel I need to start being good to myself more so that I can. I need to get back into reading the things that inspire me, soothe my mind. I want to get more creative with music and sequencing. I need to practice at home ahead of time to get these ideas into my body so I can offer it with a smile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are things I miss since we moved: students, studios, teachers, roads, buildings, food, family. There are things I don't miss too: traffic, attitudes, road rage, 100 degrees in the summer, not enough nature. And that's saying a lot because I thought I did have plenty of nature where I was. Here though it's more liquidy with all those lakes, there are more green spaces, and the sky is just huge with low, fluffy clouds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So very excited to have Ellen here in a matter of weeks, the life traveler herself, to see just what I'm talking about. I think that she of all people will appreciate the differences, the things that make this place pretty damn cool. And a Dr. Dog show the week she's here will help us all have a little Philly feel in case we miss it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-5056125770312858016?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/5056125770312858016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=5056125770312858016' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/5056125770312858016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/5056125770312858016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2010/09/stars.html' title='Stars'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-2439959737816982477</id><published>2010-09-11T18:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T18:18:06.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lavendar</title><content type='html'>new aromatherapy diffuser. lavendar in my nostrils. perfect early fall night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-2439959737816982477?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/2439959737816982477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=2439959737816982477' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/2439959737816982477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/2439959737816982477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2010/09/lavendar.html' title='lavendar'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-5183190267944866112</id><published>2010-09-09T19:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T19:12:34.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>new</title><content type='html'>I changed up the look of this blog...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to inspire myself? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WILL write in this blog! I hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-5183190267944866112?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/5183190267944866112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=5183190267944866112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/5183190267944866112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/5183190267944866112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2010/09/new.html' title='new'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-2247890895479735142</id><published>2010-08-13T12:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-13T12:28:40.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New teapot</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt; Hard at work.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TGWc5-eikYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/21CPIsTAKFc/s1600-h/Picture%2011%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="Picture 11" border="0" alt="Picture 11" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TGWc6AWrcrI/AAAAAAAAAFk/PkgGHGBlXkI/Picture%2011_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="139" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-2247890895479735142?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/2247890895479735142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=2247890895479735142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/2247890895479735142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/2247890895479735142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2010/08/new-teapot.html' title='New teapot'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TGWc6AWrcrI/AAAAAAAAAFk/PkgGHGBlXkI/s72-c/Picture%2011_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-994720351364182336</id><published>2010-04-28T07:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T07:48:04.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Second Chakra - Open to Change</title><content type='html'>Chakra two’s location is in the lower abdominals, genitals, or womb. It encompasses the area between the navel and genitals, and all around. One of the malfunctions of this area is a stiff lower back and/or tight hips. Because I experience tightness in these two areas, I am working at releasing tension every day. This area relates to fluidity and its element is water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This chakra is the center of sexuality, movement, emotions, and change. I feel most myself when I am in movement. I need change in my life or I feel lost; without a variety I become stiff and stale. So I need yoga to keep me flowing, thinking, and growing. The second chakra is geared toward pleasure that assists in our survival. I’ve spent plenty of time with pleasures that have made me depressed, angry, and ultimately took me in a direction that was horrible for my health. I like the concept of pleasure as a tool for personal growth. It was when I entered a serious relationship with Danielle that my life started to finally feel natural. As I began to grow with her, I no longer felt like I had to hide from myself. I am learning to accept myself. One outcome of the relationship’s pleasure is my surrender to a higher power. Growing up, I think we are taught to repress feelings of pleasure and sexuality; in my case, anxiety tends to get the best of me because of my upbringing and my fear of rejection. I am just now really focusing on nurturing myself so that I can nurture others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second chakra exercises that I practice are goddess pose, pelvic tilt, and pigeon pose. I think these poses, goddess pose in particular, promote a feeling of surrender as you practice. That sense of openness and vulnerability is there in these poses. I love to focus on this entire area (chakra one and two) because it’s a place I think about all the time. To strengthen, open, and release tension in these areas is important for my overall physical survival.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-994720351364182336?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/994720351364182336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=994720351364182336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/994720351364182336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/994720351364182336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2010/04/second-chakra-open-to-change.html' title='Second Chakra - Open to Change'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-256509807579046585</id><published>2010-04-16T05:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T05:46:57.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>always my way my way my way my way my way</title><content type='html'>&lt;p  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;No I’m not that selfish. I’m listening to The Good Life and those were the  lyrics.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;In one week: Moving to Minnesota via new car with Danielle and Turtle. Please  wish us grace in this transition.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I dislike ipods very much, mine always seems to be corrupted. Maybe I am just  missing something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Haven’t gotten too emotional about the move…yet. Perhaps when our house,  which isn’t ours for much longer, is filled with boxes and nothing on the walls,  the paint that was painted left for the next homeowner, the new kitchen counters  and new kitchen floor left without more than a couple months use by us, the  trees in the background will stay the same but we won’t be around. It is sad.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;What is important in life? Is it a house? Is it a patio? A certain shade of  orange that you choose to hang as curtains? Is it a phone call that has one of  the most familiar and loved voices on the other end wanting to talk to you? Is  it a new car? Is it a handful of favorite songs? Is it a dream you have? Is it  planning goals? Is it your favorite time of year? Is it rain or shine?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;As we move on, move forward, drive away from this house that we bought no  more than 7 months ago, we’re leaving 3 stories of something we may think helps  to define us. Does it? I always sort of defined myself by my hometown, the house  I grew up in, the look of the backyard even, from an old bedroom window. The  sound of the train as it comes and goes just blocks away. Being able to pass by  certain things – a high school, a previous place of employment, a house that a  good friend grew up in, a college, restaurants and bars where I drank and ate  with friends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Now that we will move away from here, I often question why we came back. We  did used to live here, in West Chester. It’s where Danielle and I met, fell in  love, began to create memories. It’s where we grew up in many ways and figured  out how to make choices and learned from mistakes. It’s where I walked the  uneven sidewalks many many times under the influence, and searched for myself in  the nighttime of familiar territory. Is that what brought us back? Familiar  roads, memories we wanted to get back, a more carefree time when we had less  responsibility, less decisions, less stuff. For me, college was often an open  road where I soared down, sometimes driving at full speed, sometimes letting  this person or that person take the wheel, sometimes too indecisive to know what  street to turn onto next, or too drunk to decipher between where I was, where I  was supposed to be, and where I wanted to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We moved back here to get a fresh start? How can we do that when there’s not  much that is fresh here for us. It is used, stomped on, memorized even. I guess  we wanted to make it ours, for real this time, because back then we were never  officially “together.” There are many wonderful things about moving here, except  that it’s missing much of what we’re looking for in a place to live: diversity,  younger crowd (not just 21 year olds), higher lgbt population, walking distance  to lots of stuff, a CITY. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So we’ll be off next week. One week from today. We’ll drive and then maybe  it’ll begin to feel real. We’ll be in temporary housing and then we’ll find a  place to live. We’ll continue to live our lives the best that we can, not much  different than any other person. I’ll look for teaching jobs, I’d love to write  as well and flourish in some way with that, even if it’s just keeping up with a  journal or blog. I’d like to get away from FB more and out into the world, have  more at my fingertips, more yoga choices, a different way of life, a fresh place  where I can meet someone and they have NO idea who I am, and I get to decide how  to be again and again in each conversation, each new encounter. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I once wrote, and I think this was it:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am change. I am like the ocean, always changing. If you don’t like  change, you will hate me. I love me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-256509807579046585?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/256509807579046585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=256509807579046585' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/256509807579046585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/256509807579046585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2010/04/always-my-way-my-way-my-way-my-way-my.html' title='always my way my way my way my way my way'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-7063982866210762125</id><published>2010-04-06T19:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T19:12:33.104-07:00</updated><title type='text'>&lt;3</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Love After Love&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The time will come   &lt;br /&gt;When, with elation,    &lt;br /&gt;You will greet yourself arriving    &lt;br /&gt;At your own door, in your own mirror,    &lt;br /&gt;And each will smile at each other's welcome,    &lt;br /&gt;And say, sit here. Eat.    &lt;br /&gt;You will love again the stranger who was your self.    &lt;br /&gt;Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart    &lt;br /&gt;To itself, to the stranger who has loved you    &lt;br /&gt;All your life, whom you ignored    &lt;br /&gt;For another, who knows you by heart.    &lt;br /&gt;Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,    &lt;br /&gt;The photographs, the desperate notes,    &lt;br /&gt;Peel your image from the mirror.    &lt;br /&gt;Sit. Feast on your life.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;-- Derek Walcott&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-7063982866210762125?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/7063982866210762125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=7063982866210762125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/7063982866210762125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/7063982866210762125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2010/04/love-after-love-time-will-come-when.html' title='&amp;lt;3'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-4674245889921843742</id><published>2010-03-23T11:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T11:19:49.549-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am like the ocean, changing all the time</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Can you endure silence?   &lt;br /&gt;Are you a night fighter?    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Or more a child bored   &lt;br /&gt;with outgrown toys    &lt;br /&gt;trying to win at     &lt;br /&gt;tip-the-cat?    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;If you have any patience   &lt;br /&gt;left, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;we&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; know what to do.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;If you love sleep,   &lt;br /&gt;we'll tear you away.    &lt;br /&gt;If you change into a mountain,    &lt;br /&gt;we'll melt you.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;If you become an ocean,   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;we'll drain you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;THIS IS HOW A HUMAN BEING CAN CHANGE:   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;There's a worm addicted to eating grape leaves.   &lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, he wakes up,    &lt;br /&gt;call it grace, whatever, something wakes him,    &lt;br /&gt;and he's no longer a worm.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;He's the entire vineyard,   &lt;br /&gt;and the orchard too,    &lt;br /&gt;the fruit, the trunks,    &lt;br /&gt;a growing wisdom and joy    &lt;br /&gt;that doesn't need     &lt;br /&gt;to devour.&amp;quot;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Rumi&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-4674245889921843742?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4674245889921843742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=4674245889921843742' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/4674245889921843742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/4674245889921843742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-am-like-ocean-changing-all-time.html' title='I am like the ocean, changing all the time'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-4826030599792444396</id><published>2010-03-01T05:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T05:40:34.373-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;it’s funny that when i am feeling good, when i can sit down without pain, i end up looking for jobs in my “other” field: writing and editing. i search for FT positions in this field. it’s so rare, this feeling of No Pain. it kind of hits me out of no where – i notice there’s a little something different, something is…missing? oh wait, i am sitting at the computer and my back feels NOTHING, an awesome experience. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;most of my days are spent figuring out how to get comfortable and not be in pain. i plan on what i need to do physically to feel better. once i do that (yoga, walking, exercise, rest, etc) i feel better for a little while. and sometimes i don’t even feel that much better, it’s kind of like i put a band aid on it, so the sting might be gone but there is a wound underneath that is still present. it gets pretty damn exhausting waiting to feel better. i feel i am usually in that state of waiting. i know that i need to figure out new strategies in this battle…meditation? acupuncture? yoga therapy? massage? it’s just a lack of funds, so i do what i can on my own, which works for me most of the time. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;i’ll never be totally without pain (except for a few moments ago! but alas, it’s come back, just barely, but there it is). will i ever be without pain for more than a day? i wonder. do i accept the pain? it’s difficult to accept that the pain is not “me,” because it affects everything i do, and can make me in the worst mood imaginable. there are many times i’ve experienced deep depression and anxiety, to the point where i feel like i am suffocating and desperate for relief from this way of living. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;so will a full-time editing/writing job make me feel more complete? probably not. sometimes i just wish i could make the salary i used to and go to happy hours and dress up for work and feel important. eh, i guess that is overrated. so for now i’ll go take a yoga class this morning and get this week started.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-4826030599792444396?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4826030599792444396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=4826030599792444396' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/4826030599792444396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/4826030599792444396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2010/03/funny.html' title='Funny'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-8462981816367539197</id><published>2009-12-29T10:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T10:36:01.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>get a massage!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;i've updated my &lt;a href="http://www.yogawithkathryn.com/"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt;. please visit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now offering thai yoga bodywork...mmm, give it a try you won't regret it. so good for you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i organized my yoga/massage room in my house, it is now clean and organized. what a nice feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-8462981816367539197?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/8462981816367539197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=8462981816367539197' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/8462981816367539197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/8462981816367539197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/12/ive-updated-my-website.html' title='get a massage!'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-1988828701034160093</id><published>2009-12-22T10:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T11:13:25.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ouchies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I wake up in the morning. I sit up slowly, sit on the edge of the bed. I feel stiffness in my lower back. Other areas feel sore from exercise the day before but this pales in comparison. It doesn't register. Only now, thinking away from the situation, do I feel these other little aches. It's the lower back region that immediately grabs me and forces me to stare at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel people who live with chronic pain are very misunderstood. They might be taken for being selfish, narcissistic even, instead of simply in a great deal of pain. Feeling pain every single day is a blessing and a curse all rolled into one. I've been thinking lately how chronic pain has made for a great deal of depression in my life. Feelings of helplessness, loneliness, unworthiness, and oftentimes feeling suicidal because there is no "end" in sight. Many times desperate attempts have been made to feel relief: a back crack, a neck crack, an alcoholic beverage, sleep, mindless eating, over-exercising, crying and feeling sorry for myself. Most of these actions were taken when I still worked behind a desk, sitting for very long periods of time, which ultimately led to the deepest pain I've ever experienced on a regular basis. There are days now when I feel angry because I don't make a lot of money, and I feel helpless as I remember that I actually can not go back to what I used to do for money: work at a desk 9-5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does this make me feel helpless? The thought process usually goes something like this: I am frustrated because I want to make more money, there is a moment where I ask myself why I feel this way? And this (evil) part of me usually steps in to say, obviously, that this isn't the point - the point is that because of my back I can not work a 9-5 job, even if I wanted to. This makes me feel helpless...and pissed off. At what? My back, the situation, the people who don't take this issue seriously, the overeating I did yesterday because I just didn't care, the car I drive because I have to sit in it, all the people who just don't get it because they don't feel pain on a daily basis, you get the picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I sound sorry for myself? I kind of am. It's been a long, long time I've been feeling this way. It's become habit. Nowadays I realize this, and then continue to beat myself up for feeling this way - obviously not the solution. Just another mess. I try to be aware that I'm ok, in fact I'm more than ok, it takes a lot for me not to jump on the pity train and go far far away. It's as if being on that train is sort of what helps me to understand. I wish some other people were on the train with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have people in my life to talk to, but I'd like someone who really gets it, who identifies with the very real issue of chronic pain and the debilitating effects it can cause on a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this moment I am irritated because my back hurts bad as I sit here and write this. I took a yoga class this morning, felt fine immediately following, and now the pain is back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that people can feel quite unsettled when they hear other people complain. I don't want to complain, I want to share, to relate to someone, someone to relate to me. I think I just need to verbalize some deep-set feelings within, I'm not sure people take chronic pain seriously. Our society wants you to just get better. To shut up, and just deal with it. They believe a sickness is temporary, there's a medicine to fix it, a surgery to fix it, right? So strange, this situation to be in, so frustrating. It makes me feel...aloof, alone. Maybe I am unique.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll leave it with a quote that runs through my mind almost every day by Ani Difranco:&lt;br /&gt;"Would you prefer the easy way? No? Well ok then don't cry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-1988828701034160093?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/1988828701034160093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=1988828701034160093' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/1988828701034160093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/1988828701034160093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/12/ouchies.html' title='ouchies'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-9105396869354137874</id><published>2009-12-17T07:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T07:49:35.288-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mount Washington</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/justkitten/37929802/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/28/37929802_51b48b8a1a_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/justkitten/37929802/"&gt;pretty&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/justkitten/"&gt;kathryn_nulf&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;One time I hiked Mount Washington in New Hampshire. That was a day.&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-9105396869354137874?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/9105396869354137874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=9105396869354137874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/9105396869354137874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/9105396869354137874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/12/mount-washington.html' title='Mount Washington'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/28/37929802_51b48b8a1a_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-6618908188940511584</id><published>2009-12-14T12:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T12:56:57.034-08:00</updated><title type='text'>now or never</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;it's now or never...time to take my workout routine out of the gym and into my own hands. it is the only time i see results and stick with it. by doing Ellen Barrett dvds at home, and other dvds, I feel way better and get a more well-rounded workout. i also need to get into taking Turtle for long walks again. i used to be very dedicated to my home workout regimen and really enjoyed it and the results. now is the time to begin again. what goes around comes around!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-6618908188940511584?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/6618908188940511584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=6618908188940511584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/6618908188940511584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/6618908188940511584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/12/now-or-never.html' title='now or never'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-8606440711006708786</id><published>2009-12-09T08:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T08:32:58.204-08:00</updated><title type='text'>poetry from 2002...wowzers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;can it be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;that you were there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;just for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;that I counted it down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;and then you came&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I know (it is fact) that you followed me so well tonight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Because I saw you (watched you closely)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;didn’t know you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;but liked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;your ideas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I could read them in you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;you came to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;!me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;and everything has echoed ever since&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;you came &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;to that road!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Where I exited,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;you entered&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;your blood was warm inside your shoes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;(I liked your socks)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;and you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;looking over your shoulder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;as if the first few were not enough &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;but&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;(oh my god)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;they were.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;--&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;4.20.02&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I’m so much lighter than you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;You were there, warming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Getting ready-oh my&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;(god god sweet I love this place lift me up hiiigher)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I’m lighter than you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;When you were young, I came to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Where you were&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I knew it by heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I memorized it without you knowing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;And I ran there every single night for a year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;To be light with you and your touch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;That gives me such a nostalgic essence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It takes me away from now &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It brings me back to where I used to belong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;With you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nothing was so wrong then&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Except empty blades of grass&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I sang to you on the weekends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Handed you my hand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I rested my headache on your lap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Counted all of your hairs and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Warmed you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;--&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;stay oh my god why don’t you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I just warned you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It’s not enough?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sweet you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Be wicked with me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I’d love for you to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Be by my side&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;During each meal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I’d turn and smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I’d love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I’d turn your eyes into light. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-8606440711006708786?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/8606440711006708786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=8606440711006708786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/8606440711006708786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/8606440711006708786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/12/poetry-from-2002wowzers.html' title='poetry from 2002...wowzers'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-3177090234996682881</id><published>2009-12-02T08:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T08:20:02.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Hope</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;wrote this a while back, too. to my friend Ashley, we've definitely talked since i wrote this (4.14.2004), but not as much as i would like. miss this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Ashley,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I’m near the water now, standing on the bridge, minutes from the dozens of shops we used to almost live in, and I’m very close to your favorite, the one with the stickers and candles you like so much. It’s very rainy, but I’m fine. The rain lets the water do its thing, straddling the legs of the bridge and punching the sides of the land with great strength. How are you? I want to find the love those shop owners once shoved in our faces—I wonder if our giggles that followed were riddles to their ears, or if inside there existed a kind of connection. I remember watching the ducks in that one pond, near the theater, and I would look at you and them, you and them, and then most likely we’d head to lunch after a cigarette. Summers are beautiful here. In my old car, before it went far off that road and died, we listened to good music, music we understood and felt. So many dollars we let melt out of the ATMs and into cash registers. But it didn’t matter, the future didn’t exist to us then, nothing else did except the streets with unusual shops and food and people. Now, today, I’m alone. No one I know is here, I can’t feel, and I’m hungry. I just went to that one ice cream shop that has the almond flavor we adored, with the mean employees that always seemed extremely bored with life. And the stairs where up top we threw away our cares and turned to books and magazines. In a desperate attempt I guess to somehow ignore the cold rain drops on me, I’m thinking of that place as I write you. And it’s working, kind of. We are slightly stoned as we saunter along the brightly lit streets. We just indulged in the almond flavored ice cream and I see that the summer is working hard for us, the night is lovely, and the idea comes to me that we should get tattoos. Tattoos below our shoes, I say. On our feet. Like sisters, friends, good friends, forever. But neither happened: not the tattooed feet, not the part about forever. That’s why I’m writing this letter, because this place is beautiful still, even when it’s raining hard, you’re still slipping through the cracks of the sidewalk as I check the clock above the bank and climb the stretch back to my car. Here I go again shouting aimlessly until there is no end, whispering to you the silent story of my life. I say whispering because I do not call, I write instead, as if all is ok when the truth is that I miss you terribly. Perhaps we’ll talk one day, maybe here at the restaurant with the outside seating. Do you think I’m asking too much? God knows I want the tea with all the sugar. He knows that I want the thick milk to stir it with. And when I sip the power, he also knows that I often think of you. I know I’m selfish and I’m so afraid to find out the truth that I hide in it because I can’t admit that I want to know the answer. I want two years ago back: when we shook our hips around and around and our eyes never once touched the ground. I still want to dance the streets at midnight with you, bow to the fancy moon at dawn, wrinkle our noses at people. I want to wear a morbid face as we swallow espresso in unison. I want to bow to the goddess, although our heads held high, drink from the almighty sky, then fall below into a shop with trashy hippie skirts. Perfect insanity led us to each other. Gotta love New Hope. Gotta love us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-3177090234996682881?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/3177090234996682881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=3177090234996682881' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/3177090234996682881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/3177090234996682881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-hope.html' title='New Hope'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-3314180422442928555</id><published>2009-12-02T08:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T08:12:18.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hands and feet are all alike, but gold between divides us</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;some ooolllddd writings. circa 2004.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to be more focused&lt;br /&gt;on poetry, my ass, eyes, smile, and lips,&lt;br /&gt;on the fact that we don’t have serious conversations.&lt;br /&gt;I’d like for you to rub my back, soft and hard,&lt;br /&gt;and thank me for letting you do it,&lt;br /&gt;wanting to envelope me afterward, kissing my naked back, bare shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;What is it with us?  Are we ok?&lt;br /&gt;I can’t stop looking in the mirror and I feel that this is a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trying not to be loud by crying&lt;br /&gt;trying not to cry loud while crying&lt;br /&gt;desperately seeking someone to listen to me cry and not say a thing just&lt;br /&gt;hold my entire body against theirs for a very&lt;br /&gt;very long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Free write....&lt;br /&gt;The time you went to a drugstore wearing red and wanted a hat but you will never look good in hats. Instead buy fish so that you can be free when you look at them, they’re cheap anyway, and very pretty. Free. They’re free unlike you who are taken by a girl under your belt you are wet by her and you are not strong enough to leave the vulnerable thoughts behind and concentrate on life rather than love. It is night and I’m sitting across the table at the library with Gerard. I am stating the obvious while he draws lines with a ruler with a pencil on a white piece of paper. He is concentrating and busy. My back is out of line, again, I am too strange to care, I care but I’m lazy and without money to go to the doctor. I need a massage. Maybe I’ll get a massage. Get rid of all the bad in my muscles and bones, let it crack healthily instead of by me, a forced crack that kills and injures, doesn’t help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, sad Jeff Buckley music.&lt;br /&gt;So sorrowful, so full&lt;br /&gt;of words that most humans are afraid to speak&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a girl   at the bar   in white pants  &lt;br /&gt;sings it.&lt;br /&gt;Sings the songs that make her feel neat,&lt;br /&gt;in place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-3314180422442928555?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/3314180422442928555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=3314180422442928555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/3314180422442928555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/3314180422442928555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/12/hands-and-feet-are-all-alike-but-gold.html' title='hands and feet are all alike, but gold between divides us'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-6707919000900769580</id><published>2009-11-23T11:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T12:07:51.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>every search opens</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;opening&lt;br /&gt;searching&lt;br /&gt;everywhere&lt;br /&gt;searching searching opening opening every&lt;br /&gt;search&lt;br /&gt;opening searching searching opening every&lt;br /&gt;opening&lt;br /&gt;searching searching opening everywhere everywhere&lt;br /&gt;everywhere everywhere&lt;br /&gt;search every opening&lt;br /&gt;every search opens&lt;br /&gt;open every search&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday i went to a contemplative dance and authentic movement workshop...let's just say i had no idea what to expect. it was sort of like this: you know free writing? like putting pen to paper and not allowing pen to leave paper...just going and going, not thinking so much. imagine doing that but with movement. that's kind of what this workshop was! needless to say it was intensely raw, organic, open, emotional, awkward, scary, precious, authentic. very, very authentic. it wasn't even so much "dance" how you would think of "dance" in your mind. it was moving into stillness, seeing what came up, and then going with that. with closed eyes. with people watching you. at first that was just weird, but i had to commit to being totally open to the experience, it was that or be embarrassed and fearful. and what's fun about that? not much, just a lot of added tension that i really don't need. so i decided to be open to it all. for 3 hours i continued to surprise myself, i watched others open and take risks with their whole being, their entire heart. it was graceful and awkward and hard and soft. it really encompassed a little bit of everything and i'm so grateful for the experience. it was about getting out my head and into my body, and seeing what came up and being curious about all of it. pretty wild stuff!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-6707919000900769580?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/6707919000900769580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=6707919000900769580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/6707919000900769580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/6707919000900769580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/11/every-search-opens.html' title='every search opens'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-780438317572605959</id><published>2009-11-16T11:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T11:33:54.144-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dude...Do Yoga!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Thought I'd share a &lt;a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/sadie-nardini/dudedo-yoga_b_316450.html"&gt;great article&lt;/a&gt; on why yoga is for everyone...including you dudes out there. Written by NYC Yoga Instructor and founder of Core Strength Vinyasa yoga, Sadie Nardini. Love this girl! Enjoy&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-780438317572605959?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/780438317572605959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=780438317572605959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/780438317572605959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/780438317572605959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/11/dudedo-yoga.html' title='Dude...Do Yoga!'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-5569453103640441265</id><published>2009-11-16T08:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T08:42:54.739-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Places of Old</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So I've moved to West Chester, PA and it is everything I could have hoped for of course. I love the town and have since I went to school there (West Chester University) and graduated in 2005. It's felt like home ever since, and I am happy to be back in the area. The town is quaint with all of the restaurants and shops and sweet little buildings with so much character. It's also always buzzing with people and events and things to see. The college students are funny/annoying, a town that will never grow old (weird, right?) There's all kinds of people there, all ages, and I appreciate that. I feel honored to be able to get in my car and drive 5 minutes, park, and be out and about among the streets of this gorgeous little town. Feels right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Drove back to Berwyn close to our most recent apartment and even though it's been so recent since we've relocated, I got the old familiar ache in my stomach. I definitely get this when I go to Ephrata or Lancaster City (not so much Lansdale, where I grew up, for some reason), and I even used to get in West Chester a little when I would visit after moving away. It's this sort of dropping of the belly, a brief pain that isn't exactly painful, just present. As I drive around I notice the houses and I think, Ok good they're still there. A little smile, a breath. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I'm like that when I "go back" and revisit these old scenes, my old homes, my past lives in some small way. Wonder if others are like that too?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-5569453103640441265?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/5569453103640441265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=5569453103640441265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/5569453103640441265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/5569453103640441265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/11/places-of-old.html' title='Places of Old'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-5025942004824148777</id><published>2009-11-14T12:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T12:12:08.115-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Website!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Please visit my new &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.yogawithkathryn.com/"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and let me know what you think! :) :) :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-5025942004824148777?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/5025942004824148777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=5025942004824148777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/5025942004824148777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/5025942004824148777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/11/please-visit-my-new-website-and-let-me.html' title='New Website!'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-7505506628241752868</id><published>2009-11-05T17:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T18:05:38.139-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a class</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i am surrounded by people, so a tendency to compete creeps up throughout the class, and i am again and again returning to my own breathing, my own sweat, and my physical sensation. i am in eagle pose. it's hard, really really hard to keep up with this practice. i lift my elbows, i sink my hips. i smile at myself because i used to loathe this very pose. with practice, with years of practice, i can slip in and out of balance postures with grace. i have more control over my muscles and i hear where they are going, where they want to go, where i want them to go. i find a balance within the balance. through the flow i use my arm strength, and am aware that i should use more upper back strength as well. i need this. i need chaturanga, up dog, down dog, repeat. i need to flow through these things with grace, i love it, and it's so hard. my back tells me this: do this practice 1.5 hours a day, really? that often? i need to do that, get back into that like i used to. it's hard. we start off in child's pose, and i know what's coming: the guts and the glory. it's sort of strange how at the first few sun salutations are more like eye openers, and then as i open i am faced with just plain goodness. just the link of breath with movement. when i don't practice this practice i feel it. so it's worth it, it may take a minute to admit it but it's worth it. it may be freakin hard as hell...but i love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-7505506628241752868?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/7505506628241752868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=7505506628241752868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/7505506628241752868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/7505506628241752868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/11/class.html' title='a class'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-735558318857116475</id><published>2009-10-24T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T11:37:50.584-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Savasana</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My mom shared this with me after taking one of my yoga classes. I've been wanting to put the yoga experience into words like this for a long time! She's also written a book, which you can find &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/1442186321"&gt;here &lt;/a&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Savasana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I opened the door I smelled the Pacholli.  The incense filled the crisp night air causing me to wonder...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I took this as a good sign. I am blessed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; My daughter is my yoga instuctor and she is not a cynic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I am stong and yet, my left leg shakes during the lunge...warrior pose i think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; To be a warrior I must breathe and stare at the outlet on the wall,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; to look elsewhere is to lose my balance. Sometimes I can do it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; other times I wobble and look very silly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; She works me hard and I can hardly stand it, stand up. Reach.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; She asks me to reach and stretch and open up my fingers to the sky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; My left lung is damaged from my life, my path...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; it hurts me deeply. I feel it thru and thru and thru,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; this ouch in my chest and, of course, in my mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; But I must reach up and look, see those fingers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; There is no condemnation to be found in this hardwood room;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; candles illuminate softly, reminding&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; pressing into us that we too should not be hard on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; ourselves. That we should illuminate our light.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; She presses down into my stretch with her hands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; a gentle force,  she holds my head, my skull and pulls it away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; streching the spine, releasing stress.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; i like it and smile. i try not to smile. i should be serious i think, but i am not sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; After the moves and poses and ballet of it all~ at times it feels like ballet, so graceful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; i get to rest, lay on my mat and put into my mind nothing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; or accept what is there. my intentions may be revisited. i have breathed into them &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; this evening and let them go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; rather than rule...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; savasana makes me weep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; at her beauty and skill and soft words and stong hold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; and my bad lungs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Savasana fills my eyes with tears that run down my cheeks quietly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; in the glow of candle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; and no one knows it. not even her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Afterwards i tell her, embarressed and a little ashamed about the lung&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; and she hugs me, because that is what she is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  my yoga teacher.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-735558318857116475?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/735558318857116475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=735558318857116475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/735558318857116475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/735558318857116475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/10/savasana.html' title='Savasana'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-3991546654822243291</id><published>2009-10-12T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T08:49:04.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'>something to say</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;i used to live in west chester and now i live here again. danielle and i bought our first house and are all moved in and we love it. three floors, with finished basement, two full baths, two bedrooms, and lots of trees all around. every window you look out you see trees! bliss! i love feeling rooted and being able to drop my belongings in a room and now i can settle in at my own pace, enjoying the choices of where to put things, and then sitting in it knowing you're not rushed. no lease. no rent. money is being well spent. ahhhhh. so nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today we get fios cable, which i am excited about but also afraid of because i know i can get easily sucked in to watching....everything. but i am excited for fit tv, or whatever it's called, so i can do yoga on demand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-3991546654822243291?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/3991546654822243291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=3991546654822243291' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/3991546654822243291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/3991546654822243291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/10/something-to-say.html' title='something to say'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-4234600684238617586</id><published>2009-09-17T11:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T12:03:23.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'>couch session</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;i'm into stuff like:&lt;br /&gt;joseph arthur&lt;br /&gt;meeting folks who teach yoga&lt;br /&gt;3-legged downdog&lt;br /&gt;turning the tv off and closing my eyes&lt;br /&gt;hangin with two beautiful german sheperds until sunday&lt;br /&gt;headstand 101 workshop this saturday&lt;br /&gt;believing in my own power&lt;br /&gt;hazlenut coffee&lt;br /&gt;livin in a new house next weekend&lt;br /&gt;teaching with my hands&lt;br /&gt;opening throat chakra&lt;br /&gt;laying down and taking care of myself&lt;br /&gt;being in movement like all the time&lt;br /&gt;remembering over and over again that this moment is a wonderful moment&lt;br /&gt;trying accupuncture for back&lt;br /&gt;chilly temps&lt;br /&gt;no music in the car&lt;br /&gt;taking a yoga class everyday of the week&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-4234600684238617586?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4234600684238617586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=4234600684238617586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/4234600684238617586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/4234600684238617586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/09/couch-session.html' title='couch session'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-5261358452455262898</id><published>2009-09-05T11:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T12:00:42.572-07:00</updated><title type='text'>last day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's my last Saturday at the libary, and Tuesday will be my official Last Day. Feels good and right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Looking over an old livejournal post, seems relevant to my current situation, my upcoming change, so I'll share here:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;--&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;today it's kind of windy, i rather be in front of a tv drinking wine.i just sat in child's pose inside my cubicle on the floor. sometimes this happens in the emptiness of afternoons here, after people around have left, when there's less risk of being exposed. sometimes i realize i am there after the fact, when i am already in it. my body tells me what to do. i think most while drinking tea, green, after it's cooled a little. sat in a 2 hour meeting today to learn a new program. bullshit. i'll feel bad when i leave here but not that bad. i have my suspicions of others who are on their way out as well. some of us will leave, most will stay. most have stayed here. i looked around the room at this meeting earlier and realized how much i must stick out here. i already knew this, but i really do. sometimes i think i fit, but then there are moments when everyone might as well be pointing at me, i am so aloof. part of it is by choice, because i feel so different here. it's the job that isn't me. it's not their fault really. i just don't belong here. some things can not be explained. kevin left 2 bananas for me, he's taking off wed-fri. he will miss the 2nd part of the meeting, another 2 hours where they try to get us psyched up for this new computer program we need to learn. it is bullshit. i have a difficult time taking computers seriously, taking this company and the people i work for seriously. it's better if i leave because i'm not one of those people who are good at going through the motions no matter what. i need to feel something. almost 4. then off to pick up prescription and some fruit/veggies. i wish i knew how to grocery shop/cook. i never know what to make. i bought Children of Men, i want to watch that. it was so cool in the theater, but in the end the book wins. i'm not sure where i will go but i know it will be with Danielle, the person who knows me better than i know myself. it's scary to think i have to make myself who i want to be, but i'm excited to see who i will become. it always comes back to yoga, no matter what. to movement in general. maybe i hurt my back for a reason...i don't regret. i would not be in this body if it weren't for it, even though i curse it all the time because of pain. maybe i would choose to work in an office for the next however many years, but i know i can't do that. it's so unnatural to me..especially when i have the ability to do something i want to do, again it's scary because i have to make it happen, but it's not the kind of scary like thinking about the next 20 years sitting inside a cube...we will see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;--&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;That was from when I worked at Cadmus. Isn't it weird that in a few days I will no longer sit behind a desk for money? It always comes back to yoga, like I said over two years ago, and indeed it has...in a huge way. : )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-5261358452455262898?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/5261358452455262898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=5261358452455262898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/5261358452455262898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/5261358452455262898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/09/last-day.html' title='last day'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-9150613099438642990</id><published>2009-09-02T11:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T11:49:20.127-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm a yoga teacher</title><content type='html'>You can find me teaching some sweet yoga here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ocean earth wind fire:   www.oceanearthwindfire.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dhyana Yoga - Main Line location:   http://www.dhyana-yoga.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upper Main Line YMCA:   www.umly.org&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also teach private or small group instruction - from beginner to advanced. All levels, all good. Contact me for more details :) Stay well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-9150613099438642990?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/9150613099438642990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=9150613099438642990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/9150613099438642990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/9150613099438642990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/09/im-yoga-teacher.html' title='i&apos;m a yoga teacher'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-8636797330100885456</id><published>2009-08-26T05:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T06:03:24.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hum of locusts and air conditioners</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Refiguring my to do's, my importants, and my no thank you's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learning to acknowledge things that are hurting me -- letting people know that I feel this way, and not feeling guilty about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanting more nature in my life...wearing the color green now more than ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a chronic wrist issue now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Addicted to coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excited to mingle with old friends again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Establishing myself as a yoga teacher. In two weeks, I will only be teaching yoga for income.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a very enjoyable summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't need a vacation to feel free, relaxed, and detached.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankful for new people in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Committing to a sense of curiosity for where my career is going, and maintaining a compassion for myself and my journey along the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loving the colors burnt orange, maroon, pretty purples..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing Britney Spears in a matter of days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need a dance community in my life. Some sort of group that does modern dance/yoga/ish stuff. Ideas? This is my missing link in my life right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Power Vinyasa Yoga is my dance at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learning to talk less, be more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading when I want to, which isn't much these days. Not feeling bad about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So happy I don't have cable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meditating a bit, but whenever I do I cry. This is ok, even needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missing some old friends pretty badly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always coming back to The Walkmen, my old reliable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So not a city person at the moment, but probably will be again once fall arrives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loving the scent of lavender and its relaxing qualities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a Dave Matthews in the car with the windows down kind of summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grateful for many things, including the love of my life who puts things into perspective for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-8636797330100885456?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/8636797330100885456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=8636797330100885456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/8636797330100885456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/8636797330100885456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/08/hum-of-locusts-and-air-conditioners.html' title='hum of locusts and air conditioners'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-5808886068059353685</id><published>2009-08-22T18:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T19:03:13.607-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the powers that be</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So I been practicing power yoga a lot these days. I'm doing a teacher training at Power Yoga Works which is totally sweet and awesome and everything I need in my life right now.&lt;/span&gt; I'm so tired right now but I told myself earlier that I would update this darn thing so I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend we worked on backbends and I think I found the closest thing to a cure for my back: get over yourself and do full wheel in every class, more than once. As it turns out, I was babying my back. It's very important to baby my back, but I need to compliment that with the strength building back bends. I usually practice bridge or modified bridge with a block, but turns out that's not really what my back is looking for. After two days of practicing locust, camel, bridge, wheel...I felt freakin incredible. No pain. Going into it I thought that the opposite would result, but no. I was so...wow. Stunned, really. This discovery was one that only reinforced my decision to do this training.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I love me some Yin Yoga, don't get me wrong. But too many forward bends, especially when they are held for minutes and minutes, can actually do more harm than good for my low back, with its herniated discs, stenosis, degeneration and all that. I was on a break from yin but now I am back. It's definitely helping me. I think because I'm taking my backbends more seriously in my "other" yoga practice...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other non-yoga news, I love my dog and we're going to cuddle now and sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-5808886068059353685?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/5808886068059353685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=5808886068059353685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/5808886068059353685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/5808886068059353685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/08/powers-that-be.html' title='the powers that be'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-7435850409098405068</id><published>2009-06-26T05:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T05:14:06.309-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Michael Jackson..."Boy Prince"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;I am fascinated with the childlike essence of Michael Jackson. He never got to grow up like everybody else. Everything about him screams little boy. All controversy aside, there's no denying that he changed the world. This article touches on the inner child and how it relates to MJ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Commentary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Michael Ventre&lt;br /&gt;msnbc.com contributor&lt;br /&gt;updated 8:16 p.m. ET June 25, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;Most kings are destined to be remembered as kings, not as the person they had been before ascending to power. Even though Michael Jackson earned recognition as the King of Pop, the legacy he leaves is that of a boy prince.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;Michael Jackson was never comfortable in the adult world. Early on he recognized he would be the happiest in the land of Ferris wheels, cotton candy, docile animals and 24/7 playtime, and he clung to that life. He looked at film of the Jackson 5, circa 1968, noticed the front man was a kid, and wondered whatever happened to that boy’s childhood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;Michael Jackson passed away today. It’s always sad when parents outlast their children. It’s even sadder when the inner child and the adult can’t decide who will go first.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;In 1966, when Michael Jackson was almost 8, the Jackson 5 was born. Soon after, these talented young men from Gary, Ind., found themselves playing in seedy nightclubs and dodgy strip joints. That isn’t so bad, in most cases. The musical artist who demands only a dignified path to stardom usually spends a lonely life in the garage or basement. Humble beginnings, or even humiliating ones, come with the territory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;But when you’re a kid, and your father is pushing you ever harder to work and achieve and succeed like Joseph Jackson pushed, the road becomes mean and the spirit turns cold. Michael’s boyhood was Dickensian, even though he grew up in a tight African-American family from an unforgiving industrial region of the Midwest that went on to become rich.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;The world knew that Michael Jackson — the 8-year-old with the mini-Afro, the 1,000-watt smile and the footwork of a vaudevillian — as being perennially upbeat. But inside, he had to be wishing that he could skip the next gig and hang out with some kids his age. He had to be lamenting the fact that while the family was going places, he wanted to remain behind a little longer in childhood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;As he grew older, he became a greatly admired creative force. The “Off the Wall” album in 1979 sent his star into a new galaxy. “Thriller,” in 1982, became the biggest-selling album of all time. He had movie projects, he bought the Beatles’ catalog, he did “Captain EO” for Disney theme parks, he co-wrote “We Are the World.” He seemed to have his gloved hand in everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;Fame made him tabloid fodder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;But amid all the success, there was the residual dissatisfaction and longing. The more famous he became, the more he seemed to withdraw from the attention, usually in highly peculiar ways. Much of what was written about him was fiction. Yet because he had a chimpanzee, because he owned Neverland Ranch with all its childlike wonder, because he seemed to alter his physical appearance with each public appearance, he was constant fodder for the media, legitimate and otherwise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;He also made headlines with two marriages, first to Lisa Marie Presley and then to Deborah Rowe, with whom he had two children. The scrutiny intensified.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;Like any showman, Jackson drew the spotlight to himself. He was quiet, soft-spoken and fragile, but he knew the business as well as anyone. The freak, the eccentric, the “Wacko Jacko,” might all have been unflattering descriptions, but a lot of the buzz was the result of his own orchestration. He knew that when Michael Jackson set one foot onto any stage, the klieg lights would illuminate it. And when he could work it to his advantage, he did just that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;The struggle between the naïve child and the savvy grown man turned Michael Jackson into a riddle of which the press and the public never grew tired.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;The interest was never greater than during Jackson’s trial on sexual molestation charges near Santa Barbara, Calif., in 2003. He was eventually acquitted, but it revealed the most inappropriate aspects of Jackson’s desire to be among children. Whether you were a cynic who felt he was a pedophile who escaped justice, or whether you were a supporter who believed he was a misunderstood genius who only wanted to help people, he certainly seemed to invite trouble, whether through naivete or lasciviousness or a strange brew of both.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;After that, there were various Michael Jackson reports. He was living in Bahrain. He was living in Nevada. He was preparing a major tour. He was pondering an extended engagement in Vegas. He lost Neverland Ranch. He made a deal to save it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;What usually was missing from any Michael Jackson report in the past 25 years or so was the music. There was a time when soul and rhythm and blues ruled, when Motown was a dominant force in the record business, when acts such as Stevie Wonder and Diana Ross and the Temptations and the Four Tops and Marvin Gaye were as big in their world as the Beatles and Elvis Presley were in theirs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;They didn’t get that way through subterfuge, gimmicks or spin. They crafted radio-friendly songs that were vibrant and passionate and original, and they made an impact on the music business that is still felt today in newer generations of artists.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;The Jacksons were right in the middle of all that. They produced hits such as “I’ll Be There,” “I Want You Back,” “ABC” and “Never Can Say Goodbye” that burned up the charts and remain pop classics. Then Michael went solo and combined songwriting prowess with performance legerdemain to become one of the most astonishing acts ever. Songs such as “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough,” “Rock With You,” “Billie Jean,” “Beat It” and “Thriller,” to name a few, have endured — and will endure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;Perhaps those songs will make future generations forget about the unusual and the unfortunate involving a modern-day prince with king-sized accomplishments and a child’s imagination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;© 2009 msnbc.com.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-7435850409098405068?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/7435850409098405068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=7435850409098405068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/7435850409098405068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/7435850409098405068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/06/michael-jacksonboy-prince.html' title='Michael Jackson...&quot;Boy Prince&quot;'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-3009974838792953783</id><published>2009-05-23T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T11:48:20.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inner Child Yoga</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I will be holding a "Yoga for the Inner Child" workshop at Ocean Earth Wind Fire (&lt;a href="http://www.oceanearthwindfire.com/"&gt;www.oceanearthwindfire.com&lt;/a&gt;) in Phoenixville June 13. Here is some info in case ya'll are in a playful mood. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What does “Yoga for the Inner Child” mean?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The concept of the Inner Child represents the feeling, creative, vulnerable, and playful part of ourselves. As adults, we may think it’s silly or immature to connect with this part of ourselves. After all, we’re not kids anymore, right? Maybe somebody told you that it wasn’t ok to feel your feelings as a kid, and so you’ve brought that into adulthood. When this is the case, our Inner Child shuts down, but wants deeply to be out in the open. It is our responsibility to let the Inner Child know she is safe to do just that, to be spontaneous and cry and laugh and do whatever it is children do without even thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we fully embrace the Inner Child, we honor our truest spirit and give ourselves permission to feel and live out loud again, instead of looking toward outside sources for approval. The Inner Child could also be called our inner voice or truest self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is when we neglect our bodies and our deepest desires that the Inner Child feels betrayed. When we aren’t listening to our inner voice, we may notice tension build in the body, frequent headaches, lack of sleep, etc. Our yoga practice is a beautiful place to embrace our childlike needs and learn how to honor them. Child’s pose and Happy Baby are just the beginning – each yoga pose is an opportunity to become childlike as you listen to the body and observe your experience in a fresh new light. In yoga, you can practice loving your Inner Child without judgment and without feeling rushed. Notice whatever feelings come up and observe with compassion and curiosity – remember that it is your choice to take on the responsibility of loving parent to the child within, so be careful not to criticize. You can learn to discover your Inner Child’s joy and wisdom and allow that to dance with the serious adult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What brought me to connect the concept of the Inner Child with Yoga?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began to link the idea of yoga and the Inner Child in my own quest for a deeper understanding of my life today. Of course, this brought me all the way back to childhood! Everyone is affected by childhood in some way. Each person’s experience is unique. Some of us do not allow ourselves to feel our feelings, and so our childlike spirit within thinks she’s not allowed to exist. I found that my yoga practice is a beautiful place to practice self-acceptance and listen in to my more playful side, the child who knows what she wants. When you’ve provided a safe space for the child to speak up, it is up to you to be a good listener. Yoga is where the Inner Child can come out to play with the serious adult. Reconnecting with your Inner Child may help you begin healing emotional and physical trauma stored deep inside. In yoga we can practice this new experience without criticism and pressure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How else does the Inner Child relate to our yoga practice?&lt;br /&gt;In yoga…&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We learn to slow down and relax more – Our Inner Child loves this! You are honoring her as you slow down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We experience new things – Many of us hold onto past childhood traumas and are afraid to feel the anxiety and fear that may come as we approach new situations. Through yoga and the practice of surrender we honor our bodies and do what feels right. We are among others who are feeling their own experiences. We allow ourselves to feel buried emotions. Whether the child within comes out to laugh, smile, or cry, we let her know it’s ok to experience new things with curiosity and compassion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We give ourselves the time and permission to be present – We can choose to be in “child time.” In yoga class, it’s our teacher’s job to keep track of time while we can focus on the present. Then we can pay close attention to our experiences unfolding before us and relish in the gift of time we’ve given ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We practice unconditional self-acceptance – As a child, and now, we may not have been accepted and so may carry shame. Even if we were good children, we may not have received the message of unconditional love. In yoga, we don’t have to run away from our shame; we can tell our Inner Child that it doesn’t have to hide anymore. Your love is unconditional for her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-3009974838792953783?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/3009974838792953783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=3009974838792953783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/3009974838792953783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/3009974838792953783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/05/inner-child-yoga.html' title='Inner Child Yoga'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-6894869564477608910</id><published>2009-05-04T09:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T09:25:52.359-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bryan Kest Workshop</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I recently had the opportunity to attend a workshop with Bryan Kest at Power Yoga Works in Philadelphia on April 17. It was a great experience for me. It was considered a teacher training workshop so there were plenty of teachers there, which was nice. I took notes, and much of it is direct quotes from Bryan, so I'm going to basically share those here in this entry:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People come to yoga to strengthen the mentality that they need to change something about themselves to be better - which is, since birth, what we are taught through society, commercials, parents, etc. What we should be working on is in our mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bryan shared his habit of picking his nose. He said that he notices he is doing it and so stops. Soon enough though he is back to his digging, which he realizes after he is already doing it. Where was he during those few moments in between? We spend most of our lives in that in between state. In yoga our goal, or foundation, is awareness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meditate on how many things you are grateful for every day. Then that is more on your mind on a regular basis. Instead of walking around pissed, complaining...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abundance attracts abundance!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shift yoga away from the physical. The way you will look from the physical practice is a byproduct. The way you think we should look is all programs. Be careful not to reinforce this way of thinking when you practice yoga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're not trying to figure something out, you're mind should be silent. I'm stepping away and letting it come through. And not thinking about anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your body speaks to you in the most succinct language on the planet. It's called sensation. We need to work with what we're feeling and not try to get somewhere. Lots of people do this when they exercise - no matter how they feel, the keep going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best way to be a yoga teacher is how you live your life. Because people don't listen anyway, they just watch. Doesn't matter what you say, it's how you live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want your children to be happy, you have to be happy yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When done with a certain quality of mind, everything is yoga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't do yoga; Be yoga. Practice cultivating that state of mind. Are you paying attention to the process?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not the yoga that's good for you, it's the quality of how you do it. Be gentle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it doesn't feel good, but it feels right, it feels sweet and necessary. Doesn't always have to be comfortable. Our yoga practice could be compared to a massage - we are giving ourselves a massage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no light at the end of a pose because there's no end to any pose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The poses are just creative ways to touch the many areas in the body. And keep them well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be gentle in your poses; everybody's "gentle" is different. So, there's no such thing as gentle. The only way you can be gentle is to listen to the experience. When we start listening, our mind becomes silent. The human brain can only really focus on one thing at a time. But our society values multi-tasking. The only way to relax is to quiet down your mind. When the mind is quiet you leave the old habit patterns of the mind, judgement, etc. We're killing the old mind. We create the mind of our choosing, instead of the one of our parents, coach, siblings, boss, coworkers...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told us that the class will be "brutally hard" because our lives are hard. How will we be prepared without practices? We learn how to put our knees on the floor and rest, or say "Fuck you, Bryan, I'm not doing it." No competition in class or life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How the teacher teaches is how she feels at that moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hear the instructor but listen to your inner teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-6894869564477608910?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/6894869564477608910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=6894869564477608910' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/6894869564477608910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/6894869564477608910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/05/bryan-kest-workshop.html' title='Bryan Kest Workshop'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-8573627533276119652</id><published>2009-04-20T06:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T06:11:09.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bill Young / Colleen Thomas &amp; Dancers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/Sex-XP4Dv1I/AAAAAAAAAB4/x-q7pHab7X8/s1600-h/billyoung1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/Sex-XP4Dv1I/AAAAAAAAAB4/x-q7pHab7X8/s320/billyoung1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326771397136203602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two of the ladies from Bill Young / Colleen Thomas &amp;amp; Dancers. I saw this amazing group perform at Franklin &amp;amp; Marshall College maybe 2 years ago and it was SO AMAZING. Yes, I shed a few tears. It was so heartfelt and bizarre and raw. I love this kind of creative expression. I want to be a part of something like this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and when I wanted to buy a video of the performance, F&amp;amp;M gave me Bill Young's cell phone number. So I called him, and ended up buying a DVD of a few different performances, including the one that I saw, except it was taped at another location. He said the tape of the F&amp;amp;M show was poor quality, and just shot from one angle. So I got the fancier version, I guess, with more performances to enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think about them when I need inspiration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-8573627533276119652?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/8573627533276119652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=8573627533276119652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/8573627533276119652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/8573627533276119652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/04/bill-young-colleen-thomas-dancers.html' title='Bill Young / Colleen Thomas &amp; Dancers'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/Sex-XP4Dv1I/AAAAAAAAAB4/x-q7pHab7X8/s72-c/billyoung1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-6089158691160227270</id><published>2009-04-19T07:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T07:43:50.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Turtle the dog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/Ses4czxD8II/AAAAAAAAABg/sVm8FXJpv-I/s1600-h/turtle5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/Ses4czxD8II/AAAAAAAAABg/sVm8FXJpv-I/s320/turtle5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326413051879223426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/Ses4c8Z3zUI/AAAAAAAAABY/vZe4EKvlYyY/s1600-h/turtle4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/Ses4c8Z3zUI/AAAAAAAAABY/vZe4EKvlYyY/s320/turtle4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326413054197878082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/Ses4clu1mUI/AAAAAAAAABQ/_mDhECUN_Ts/s1600-h/turtle3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/Ses4clu1mUI/AAAAAAAAABQ/_mDhECUN_Ts/s320/turtle3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326413048111798594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/Ses4ctxAvBI/AAAAAAAAABI/VkuYEO6Ocps/s1600-h/turtle2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/Ses4ctxAvBI/AAAAAAAAABI/VkuYEO6Ocps/s320/turtle2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326413050268400658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/Ses4cf6Gk6I/AAAAAAAAABA/TQxLCjfP0kI/s1600-h/turtle1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/Ses4cf6Gk6I/AAAAAAAAABA/TQxLCjfP0kI/s320/turtle1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326413046548435874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-6089158691160227270?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/6089158691160227270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=6089158691160227270' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/6089158691160227270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/6089158691160227270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/04/turtle-dog.html' title='Turtle the dog'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/Ses4czxD8II/AAAAAAAAABg/sVm8FXJpv-I/s72-c/turtle5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-4348373627520746128</id><published>2009-04-16T08:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T08:54:29.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>spring things</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Spring's coming! I will go outside more with Turtle, explore Valley Forge Park and other nature destinations. I'm thinking a lot lately how wide open spaces soothe me. I thought that I adored city life, and I still do enjoy it, but I'm contemplating where I want to settle down. I am tired of moving. Danielle and I are also growing out of the Main Line. I wouldn't mind still working here, but going home to something...else. Where will we live? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;We could always keep renting of course. But...yeah. Something inside me is telling me that we should purchase. I've always wanted Lancaster City, but maybe that is just a place I love to visit. A little getaway. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I realize that I am forever at home in my body, a neverending journey, a pilgrimage, in itself. When I remind myself of this awesome awareness, I know that no matter where I am situated on this Earth I am already at home. Maybe this is why I am in the mood lately to find a place to settle down, because really all we need is a place to house our selves, or our "homes." I want a space where I can feel safe to stay and paint the walls and flourish and grow in. It might be nice to feel rooted somewhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-4348373627520746128?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4348373627520746128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=4348373627520746128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/4348373627520746128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/4348373627520746128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/04/spring-things.html' title='spring things'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-7956624965712823646</id><published>2009-04-07T15:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T17:21:14.008-07:00</updated><title type='text'>body scan</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;If the dream says something is wrong with your body, check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long before you do, your body knows when something is wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Marion Woodman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This makes sense to me. I used to just go through the motions in a day, tell my body what to do, never take care of it, poison it. Now, if I poison it say with unhealthy foods, I feel it, notice it. I learn my lesson (well, sometimes). Before I would get angry at somebody or even the food itself for "making" me feel this way. As if I was forced to drink in excess or eat like crap, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For years I denied I had a back problem. I mean, I knew I had some issues, but I didn't want to take responsibility meaning I didn't do any kind of exercise to help relieve pain. I told myself that there was nothing I could do. I took the oh poor me way out (typical) and used it as an excuse to feel sorry for myself, and to numb pain with alcohol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was after I tried pilates and some yoga that I started to sort of begin to tap into my inner strength. My body began to change. I felt and looked different. I discovered a way to help myself. And I soon realized that at my fingertips was now a huge responsibility to continue this practice of helping myself, and essentially loving and accepting where I'm at regardless of whatever the hell is going on with my back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This task became a journey of true body awareness. And in the process the built up emotions spilled out of my guts and, through yoga, I was encouraged to feel my feelings as opposed to numbing them like before. Um, what? That's too big. Too much. We're encouraged to get multiple things done at once, and the more we take on the more people think we are powerful and responsible. We are then considered to be multi-talented when we can get all kinds of things done in a short time. We can't sit down for lunch with a friend because we have to pick up our kid so we "grab" food on the way. That's responsible of us, right? That's us being wise and savvy with our time. Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then we have our inner wisdom, our inner truth, and when we aren't anywhere close to listening to that truest part of ourselves, our body will probably tell us. This "alert" that our body sends out may be in the form of muscle tension, headache, and even serious illness. It's our body's way of saying, "Um, hello? I need a nap, lady. Why are you drinking coffee again? I want to rest in child's pose."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was listening to Dan Gottlieb on WHYY who had some Temple students talking about the pressures they experienced in high school as girls. One girl mentioned that she's most comfortable keeping herself busy, whether it be through school, work, socially, etc. Shortly after, I was not surprised to hear Dr. Gottlieb weighing in on just that - how sad he was to hear this coming from a young woman, or from anyone, because she's not alone in her feelings. How people associate downtime with laziness. He mentioned how he makes time for and cherishes moments of space and distance from external influences, where he can actually sit with himself. Doing this, through yoga or meditation, is scary because we are sitting with our feelings and emotions, something we all have some aversion to. We all feel this way, and it's only when we acknowledge that we feel this way, and still proceed in the process, that we begin a shift in awareness. Maybe our priorities begin to change, maybe we surround ourself with new faces, maybe we take some time in the morning to do absolutely nothing, just you with yourself, before we go out into the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, I've got to keep reminding myself that I'm allowed to slow down. I'm sure it's like this for a lot of people. I've got to keep practicing yoga even when my body feels ok (it took me a while to take this seriously). Yes, it is a choice on my part to take an active role in my body's healing, but along the way I noticed how much I've moved away from my inner child, or truest self, that wants so badly to be more free - away from flying cars on route 30, shouting matches, and ugly negative self talk. So I do my best to be responsible for that child's happiness, my own bliss, when I sit back and just chill in child's pose for, say, oh as long as I like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-7956624965712823646?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/7956624965712823646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=7956624965712823646' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/7956624965712823646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/7956624965712823646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/04/body-scan.html' title='body scan'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-8872225668126411749</id><published>2009-03-30T18:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T18:26:24.812-07:00</updated><title type='text'>web site news</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I am super blessed. Danielle is in the process of creating my web site, www.innerchildyoga.com&lt;br /&gt;So, it's up but it's "coming soon." Excitement!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll describe the inner child stuff on the site, and my yoga info, what I'm up to, my hopes my fears....you get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let ya'll know when it's out and about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-8872225668126411749?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/8872225668126411749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=8872225668126411749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/8872225668126411749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/8872225668126411749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/03/web-site-news.html' title='web site news'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-3329362898638844868</id><published>2009-03-30T06:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T07:10:09.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>monday with regis and kelly</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ok, i'll admit. i watch regis and kelly every chance i get. it goes well with breakfast. it brings a smile to my face. i mostly watch for kelly who i think is quick, funny, and just adorable. she's fit and spunky and, not only is she beautiful, she can be so weird and quirky too. a perfect combo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope ellen's made it to her new Sicily apartment safely. she's probably nervous but excited at the same time. i give her loads of credit...not sure i could ever make a trip like that by myself. or maybe i just don't have that desire in me right now to travel. traveling is tricky with my back. i was even nervous about the cruise over christmas - when will i be able to do yoga? will i have to sit down a lot? yada yada yada... but that trip worked out because there was a gym on the ship that i visited each day. when i think of traveling i get nervous about being on the plane for long periods, sitting down too much on the trip itself, having no time for yoga, etc. i know this is just a lot of anxiety and created fear on my part, and that i could make time for yoga, but i still get scared. i am so accustomed to anticipating when i will feel pain again and so i guess i am just forever focusing on how i can prevent that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sure is windy out today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-3329362898638844868?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/3329362898638844868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=3329362898638844868' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/3329362898638844868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/3329362898638844868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/03/monday-with-regis-and-kelly.html' title='monday with regis and kelly'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-4121516634267125860</id><published>2009-03-26T18:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T19:23:31.342-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a year later...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;so i'm updating this...just about a year later. yay! i'm back. back in the blog scene. as if i was ever in the blog scene? i had, what like 4 entries? anyway, here i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the last time i was here i was sitting at Wyeth, probably, and thanking the heavens that i had gotten the guts to quit that damn job. i had to do what was right for me, despite what everyone thought, or what i thought everyone thought. and that was a year ago. i guess i've been busy. i guess i got a life? maybe i just found some peace and happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;still living large on the infamous Main Line. ok, not so large. Danielle and i are now in Berwyn, which is cool for now. not many young faces around here that's for sure. just trying to seek that out when we can. but i've really become such a homebody anymore. i enjoy staying in with Turtle and reading and doing yoga. it's just...my thing. i don't drink anymore so i got loads of time. my options are endless. it's pretty refreshing actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spring is near and Turtle and i will be hitting up Valley Forge Park again on a regular basis. that is one thing i like about this area...a nice little getaway. i haven't even seen half that park. just been to bits and pieces of it. i want to explore more. Danielle and i are going to join the Chester County Hiking Club! the last (and perhaps only) "real" hike i did was Mount Washington. WOW. i thought i was ready. i had just started practicing pilates and running. yeah, i thought i was ready. yeah right. so the very nice thing about this club is that you have varying degrees of difficulty...even mostly flat terrain. sounds good to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm teaching yoga a few times a week and loving every second of it. it's become something i can grow into and grow with...it's amazing how teaching compliments my own journey in yoga. i love that. i'm looking forward to growing more with teaching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i've been interested in inner child stuff for a while, since my therapist gave me photo copies out of the book, Recovery of Your Inner Child. the little that i read rang true for me. i wrote with my non-dominant hand. yep, something's there. a voice who was neglected years ago. imagine that? we're all wounded in some way from our past. i am still in the beginning stages of my research and just beginning to dive into several books, but i've already learned that the goal is not to engage in any sort of blame game. do not blame others for what they "did" to you. instead, understand that they too were influenced and affected somehow by their own past and circumstances. it goes beyond this, but that's just a brief observation. the inner child work you engage in is instead focused on your healing. it helps you locate the inner child or children, and then learn to have your adult self care and provide for him or her. to help the inner child feel safe, embraced, and at home. most of all, i think, to feel heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm reading The Inner Child Workbook: What to do when your past just won't go away, by Cathryn L. Taylor. (yay, Cathryn with a C!) she lays it out pretty simply. and it is what it says: it's a workbook, so it's laid out for you step by step, so you truly feel supported along the way. she doesn't miss a beat either. i've only read the preface, the intro, and chapter 1, and i feel i've gotten a pretty darn good overview for what's ahead. i'm just now about to start on the "work" part of it. i've gotten it ouf of the library though, so i think i will purchase from Amazon because she's got it so you can write in the book itself. this will not be a short journey, either. she's got you journaling on the side as well, even collaging within that journal. hm. all the things i've been avoiding. what am i thinking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm thinking that this inner child stuff spoke to me since day one. my guess is there's a reason, a deeper understanding behind that that is waiting to be uprooted and sprung to life. i'm thinking it's about time i start loving myself and understanding myself and looking back at some dirty inner child dishes is probably a good place to start. i've been wanting to understand some of my current behaviors for a long time and this inner child stuff speaks volumes to me in regards to diving into the process of that understanding, and i just started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;plus, i am loving that i have something to "research." i am a dork. i majored in English in college. that's not exactly for everyone. i loved the library and searches on the computer and all those nerd databases. i enjoyed brainstorming for my next paper topic. what the hell, i enjoyed writing the paper too. so now that my inner child (or children, possibly) are calling for my attention, i've got this new focus for research and for writing. it's nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so...other than that? in the past year i've...&lt;br /&gt;become certified to teach the yoga&lt;br /&gt;didn't leave the ML yet&lt;br /&gt;cut my hair short again&lt;br /&gt;stopped drinking&lt;br /&gt;moved from Devon to Berwyn..oooh ahhhh, i know&lt;br /&gt;became best friends with Turtle (our dog)&lt;br /&gt;discovered LisaNova on YouTube&lt;br /&gt;found balance in my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tea time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-4121516634267125860?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4121516634267125860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=4121516634267125860' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/4121516634267125860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/4121516634267125860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2009/03/year-later.html' title='a year later...'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-4895058766523412096</id><published>2008-04-03T06:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T06:21:37.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the right word every time</title><content type='html'>i quit my job. it's time for a vacation and some sun on my face. i got a job part-time and i'm looking for other work too. i can't wait to actually feel ok on a regular basis. can not wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-4895058766523412096?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4895058766523412096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=4895058766523412096' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/4895058766523412096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/4895058766523412096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2008/04/right-word-every-time.html' title='the right word every time'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-966422077852324368</id><published>2008-03-26T08:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T08:55:59.434-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Choice</title><content type='html'>I alluded to my want, (well need, really) to leave my current job to my mom. I mentioned that I hadn't really been able to see clearly until I experienced this, and was able to find out more about myself, and who I am not, before entering the next adventure in my life. She said to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Into every life a little rain must fall. Sometimes it's a flood. We move on to higher ground in those cases. Or stay and drown. Our choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this a quote from somewhere? Either way, it makes sense to me. I am a firm believer in choice and I do the best I can (sometimes I can do more...) to live my life that way. I feel that we choose to be happy at work. We choose our own paths, to a certain extent, and we can choose to change ourselves and our surroundings. To me, this is amazing and an important truth to return to when you are experiencing that dark time where you feel you can't escape. To know that you can alter that reality into something light, whether by your attitude or by changing the environment you are in entirely, is what's saving me at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have to be open to anything, and I really try to do that. I choose to be open, instead of closing doors or denying a certain reality. If I deny something I dislike, how can I ever see to it that it changes? Or in truth, that I change myself to adapt, because I really can not control anything or anyone else. "In a dark time, the eye begins to see." - Theodore Roethke. I've written this previously, but it is actually the quote for today on my calender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when you know you don't belong somewhere, what do you do? I am making the choice to follow my heart, my truth, and move on, away from my current place of employment. I have a feeling that once I have made this choice, and decide to follow my truth (whatever that is, not quite sure yet) then life will begin to reveal itself to me. Whether I like it or not. Doesn't mean that I won't experience dark times again, but then I would have some practice with following my heart, and so my truth will come first instead of money, or someone's opinion of me, or whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad has some major back issues as well, but he doesn't do any of the exercises me or my doctor told him to do. He's on medication for the pain, a bandaid that does more harm than good. I try to explain to him gently that he needs to do regular exercise - even when he is feeling well - in order to feel better. It's so easy (and I know this too well) to slack when we are feeling great physically. During this time, now out of habit, I remind myself of the pain that inevitably will come again, so that I can snap back to reality and just do it. Also now, out of habit and routine maybe, I've grown to love movement, and am in awe of how far I can take my body, and change it in the process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking forward&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-966422077852324368?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/966422077852324368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=966422077852324368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/966422077852324368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/966422077852324368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2008/03/choice.html' title='Choice'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-2938357868610788528</id><published>2008-03-17T05:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T05:42:01.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>l o s t</title><content type='html'>That show Lost is so confusing. It's like a bunch of magic tricks. Most of the characters are magicians I think...trying to confuse the sh*t out of you. I just started watching this season...so I am crazy, crazy confused. I'm going to watch the other seasons tho and get caught up b/c it's a pretty good magic show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will be in philly most of the w/e with Miss Nicki LaRue and her bf. A much needed visit from a good friend and her funny boy toy...can not wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully it will be warm soon so I can go camping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-2938357868610788528?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/2938357868610788528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=2938357868610788528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/2938357868610788528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/2938357868610788528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2008/03/l-o-s-t.html' title='l o s t'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-9168413857461873727</id><published>2008-03-12T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T08:52:00.288-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Staying present</title><content type='html'>I have a Zen calender on my desk at work, from sister Sandy. Today's quote comes from Muso Kokushi:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you walk, watch the walking, when you sit, watch the sitting, when you recline, watch the reclining, when you see and hear, watch the seeing and hearing, when you notice and cognize, watch the noticing and cognizing, when joyful, watch the joy, when angry, watch the anger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-9168413857461873727?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/9168413857461873727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=9168413857461873727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/9168413857461873727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/9168413857461873727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2008/03/staying-present.html' title='Staying present'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-8705544695444333908</id><published>2008-02-28T06:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T06:47:55.893-08:00</updated><title type='text'>mixed up morning</title><content type='html'>Went to bed early last night. Actually, I came home from a massage, took a shower, and then laid down in my bathrobe. The bathrobe is rather soft and fluffy, and I ended up putting my eye mask on and not getting up. This was around 8:30 maybe. I had little energy, I was just so tired. I'm starving for more energy these days, I always feel like I need more. There might be a mixture of reasons why - stressed out about job, body is in pain, the job itself is dull, and it's taking every part of me to drag me to it. I feel stale at my job. Not myself, as if I am missing something. Like there is a another way to live...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course there's another, better, way. And I'm looking forward to it. I know that I will leave this job, and be ok with it. I know that I need to leave because I need to be much more physical in my everyday life so that I can get better. It's not like once I get better, I'll be able to go back to a job like this. No, I doubt it will happen like that. For some reason, I have this issue with my back, and I want to get it better, which I feel is a lifelong journery. My life needs to change in order for me to feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sooo emotional anymore because of this. I feel helpless and frustrated because of chronic pain. And then you have this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet." Rumi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few words put together that make me believe in another way to live. I kind of realized recently that I need to love myself first, no matter what it takes, and do whatever it takes. It's not selfish. It's putting my best self forward, and finding out how to do so first before I fall down again into another job, or any choice, that I feel I am "stuck" in. "To take a step without feet." To move forward with a smile on my face and then see what happens. See what my choices become in that case.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-8705544695444333908?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/8705544695444333908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=8705544695444333908' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/8705544695444333908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/8705544695444333908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2008/02/mixed-up-morning.html' title='mixed up morning'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-2785158091682485121</id><published>2008-02-21T10:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T06:52:31.828-08:00</updated><title type='text'>where i really am when i am working</title><content type='html'>Or i should say "working." It's come to this: I want to change jobs. I've often come back to a line that's become very familiar to me: I am change. How this applies to my life, I'm never sure. I think it applies to my true Self, which is just fine with me. Change makes sense. Change is reality. Change is light to the touch, and allows for plenty of breathing room. I came across this the other day and found it applicable:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Everyone has been made for some particular work, and the desire for that work has been put in every heart." Jalal ad-Din Rumi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A part of me screams, I hope this is not a life-long search, this job thing. I always thought that I'd be a part of something big, important, maybe even special. But I was never sure what. At first I thought it would be music, either performing it or teaching it, even both. Music continues to be a love of mine and will always affect me, but I'm not making money from it. Then I majored in Literature in college and got the degree and everything - mind you, the ENTIRE time I had no idea what I was going to do for money after college ended, and the truth is that it didn't matter to me. I was learning what I needed to learn, and what I wanted to. Things that had always been a part of me were allowed to surface in the safe environment called University. The Classroom. Surrounded by diversity and friends and windy country roads to find myself on, I wasn't particularly worried about the days ahead. And really, that worry was never taught to me, it just came so naturally after I left college. I think my parents helped with it, and relatives, and former classmates from way back, when everyone's attention shifted toward MY getting a job ASAP. You have a degree? What are you doing now? WHAT WILL YOU DO?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would you like me to do? This, I should have asked. But I expressed worry instead, and burried my building humiliation - at present, I think this could have been avoided. We, as in people, have a way of making others uncomfortable in their own skin in order to build ourselves up. Had I surrounded myself with different people, or even changed my location and said hell with it, maybe things would have been...happier. Notice I did not say easier. Maybe a time limit would not have been set on my part. Who knows. I can not place any responsibility, though, on anyone but myself. I've learned. I am learning. The happiness button is already on...deep inside me. It is our natural state. It took me a long time to wake up to this phenomenon (that's not actually a phenomenon, but is to me especially because I've always tended to lean toward the darker, more depressed side that I now know was a deep, self-inflicted and unnecessary state).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this whole thing with "Getting The Job" - what is that? And why are we so obsessed with WORKING? I'm using my degree at my current job. But I use my degree more in my daily life, because it's what I am naturally interested in. I could probably use it more if I had more time to read up on the things I've denied since college, thanks to my full-time position where I "use my degree."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I will change. I'll change jobs. I'll grow up more. But my true Self is forever and it is unchanged. This theory leads us to believe that, with our eye on our true Selves, we should then be OK in every situation, because the Truth can not be shaken. I like this. In fact, I really, really like this. It's a daily practice, an ongoing awareness of who I am. My job is how I'll make money - big deal. This will change many times throughout my life, I would imagine. This is OK, or at least I think it is. I'm not one to hold a job for 35 years and then retire. I might do that, you never know, but I doubt it. And then we have our mind - this too will always, always change. Through my yoga practice, I locate the Truth....myself. It's here that I can stay with it, find the inner smile, and go with it. If I have pain, I know it's OK because it is temporary - this is the only practice that allows for accepting pain, because the body is temporary. Again, we have the Self. The in it for the long run attitude. The smile that is already there. A permanent adoration. A strength already in existence. The Self will always hug the Self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never knew this! I always thought that someone had to make me happy. What a waste of time. But, like I say, I've learned from it, and I'm still breathing. Maybe I'll talk about that next time - breathing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-2785158091682485121?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/2785158091682485121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=2785158091682485121' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/2785158091682485121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/2785158091682485121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2008/02/where-i-really-am-when-i-am-working.html' title='where i really am when i am working'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8904919025208851486.post-965874218940457062</id><published>2008-02-20T05:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T05:57:39.452-08:00</updated><title type='text'>test test</title><content type='html'>this is my first entry. hum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll work today on things and try to make sense of why i'm here. i am going to jim's yoga class tonight, haven't been there in a while. this morning i did the neti pot and i feel as if i just swam now, a usual feeling afterward, and i don't have the need to blow my nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not yet sure if this blog will have a theme. i was going to write about my experiences as a yoga teacher, but now the place i work at is closing. or, i was thinking about recording my journey with my back, both pains and triumphs, and how my life is affected. or, perhaps, something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8904919025208851486-965874218940457062?l=kathrynclub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/feeds/965874218940457062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8904919025208851486&amp;postID=965874218940457062' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/965874218940457062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8904919025208851486/posts/default/965874218940457062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathrynclub.blogspot.com/2008/02/test-test.html' title='test test'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14316955573901993596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cr2m1sXijwk/TJYJpSPpEfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IzX3a7WeUss/S220/childs+pose.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
