Archive for the ‘Crunchy’ Category

OMG, so adorable. Too cute to even nibble.

On paper, it would seem like I’d be a perfect candidate for yoga addiction. I’m super-crunchy, love meditation and I totally buy into the notion that poses “massage” certain parts of our bod and get the lymph fluid moving.

The problem: I just don’t like to actually do it. When it’s too easy, I feel like I’m not getting enough of a workout. And when it’s too hard, it hurts like a mother-effer.

Last year, when Hubby and I were embroiled in P90X, we both detested “yoga day” in the workout rotation. There’s nothing breezy about P90X, but that 90 minutes of Yoga X is a killer. And we weren’t alone in our disgruntlement; there is much chatter on the World Wide Interweb about the difficulty – and ouch factor – of that routine.

Yes, I know there is a happy medium, some blissed-out middle ground between a wussy, wimpy faux-ga class (ooh! I just coined another new word! “faux-ga”!) and Yoga X.

But I probably won’t be seeking it out. And in the back of my mind, I’ll also now be recalling snippets of a rather damning story in today’s New York Times Magazine. Entitled “How Yoga Can Wreck Your Body,” it’s excerpted from a new book, and delves into how competitive the practice has become. And how today, no one wants to be caught dead executing simple poses.

Rather, they want to twist themselves like a pretzel, à la the joint-popping possessed chick in that creepy new exorcism movie that’s blowing up the box office this weekend.

In all honesty, I haven’t finished reading the rawther lengthy article yet. I’ve been on serious laundry detail today – seven loads and counting! – and I also had to design the festive invitations for the Wee Lass’s birthday party, which is once again nipping at our heels.

But I’m sure the author will wrap it up with a lovely bow, and tell us how great yoga is for our mind, body and spirit, and how we should totally keep doing it as long as we’re careful not to morph into contortionists just to get that elusive nod of approval from our yoga teacher. Or, better yet, envious glares from our mat-mates.

Or maybe he won’t. Maybe we’ve entered a new era of yoga-bashing, with this William J. Broad dude leading the charge. I won’t know until I finish reading. And that’s after I finish Load 8 of laundry.

So pretty and sunrise-y, right? Swoon.

Om shanti, my lovelies. I don’t even know what that means, but it’s crunchy. And I’m crunchy, so there you have it.

I swear I could literally watch all four or five or however many hours of the Today Show that are on these days. Especially recently, because they’ve been devoting so, so, so much time to self-improvement and and keeping resolutions.

Just this morning, as I was pushing the Wee Lass out the door for drop-off (thank the lordy we live right across the street from school), I heard Dr. Nancy Snyderman chiding everyone who thinks they need to hit the gym just to get a workout. “Our mothers weren’t fat,” she barked. “They had a baby on one hip and were pushing the vacuum cleaner around with the other.”

Our mamas moved it, in other words, and folded calorie-burning into their daily activities. Not like us chubby old couch potatoes.

Okay, I’m on bedtime-story detail this evening, so I have to make this blog post fast and furious.

There were two super-useful health takeaways I got from the Today Show this week that I want to pass along to you:

1. From a new book called The Willpower Instinct: How Self-Control Works & Why It Matters: Willpower is at its peak in the morning, and is especially strong if you’ve had a great night’s sleep. After seeing that segment (here’s the link), I immediately switched my meditation from the evening to the morning. I have my coffee first, read a little HuffPo or the New York Times on my iPad, and then I head straight to my meditation chamber, aka my walk-in closet. And surprise, surprise I really love it.

2. From a diet resolutions chit-chat with Dr. Oz, who I’m convinced is taking over the world. (I mean, he’s everywhere. If he weren’t a heart surgeon, I’d be worried that he’s about to keel over from a heart attack.): Making your goals public means a higher likelihood of achieving them. So I’m officially going on record with the fact that I want to work out 200 times this year. I tried in 2010 and got pretty close. This year, I’m determined to get there.

In excavating her own life, she helps us with ours.

In my Momover book, I wrote an entire chapter – and it’s the most important one, by leaps and bounds – about the importance of positive “self-talk,” that endless inner chatter that can either support us, or make us feel reaaaaallly bad.

I included tips about “reframing” our thoughts, and what we “say” to ourselves, so that we can instantly feel better, and more on top of our mama-game. And because it’s a book aimed primarily (but certainly not exclusively) at first-time moms, I included an example about homemade organic baby food.

Rather than silently beat yourself up about the fact that you’re the only one in Gymboree class who doesn’t feed her Diapered Darling the self-puréed stuff, I wrote, “you could say something like, ‘Wow, if all the other Gymboree moms are feeding their kids homemade organic baby food, maybe it’s easier than I thought. I’ll check out some recipes online when I get home. It just might be the perfect excuse to to get that food processor I’ve been eyeing at Williams-Sonoma.’”

My goal, in that chapter and in that example, was to help us build our reframing muscles, and shore up our mental defenses against internal negativity. Because we need to be able to do that, all of us, new moms and seasoned pros alike.

But this morning, in reading Prime Time by my gorge idol Jane F, I’ve learned that reframing is not only mentally important, it’s massively physically important too.

Here’s the CliffsNotes recap about why: When we bring a lot negativity into our thoughts about a situation, past or present, and allow ourselves to respond in an angry, threatened or sad way, we unleash chemicals and hormones that harm our bodies.

It’s a little science-y, but it has to do with neurons, those nerve cells that send signals pinging all over us.

By reframing, per Fonda, we can develop entirely new neural pathways, which will help us age more successfully. And even if you’re only in your 20s or 30s (and not a still-stunning 74, like Fonda), who doesn’t want that?

“If we can learn to assign new meanings to stressful situations, we can actually avoid the biochemical and hormonal reactions that cause damage to our systems, especially with age,” Fonda writes. “Recent cognitive research shows that our ability to change our attitudes and behaviors manifest neurogically, as well.”

I don’t know about you, but that gives me such a sense of control over my physical destiny – via my internal dialogue. And on that note, I’m going running – my favorite mind | body form of exercise. Happy Saturday, my lovelies.

I've used this image 90 times, but it's so spot-on.

I went to a fun, super-informative event on Tuesday night, and before I dive into the vegan substitute meat of it, I want to give a shout-out to all the parties who made it happen.

1. Well+GoodNYC, the extraordinarily kick-ass wellness website, which organized it. Lordy I love that site, and not merely because I live a hop, skip and a jump from Gotham. The overlords, Melisse and Alexia, just really know their stuff. They have like PhDs in Spa + Spinning.

2. Red Flower, the fantastico organic beauty brand, which hosted it at its adorable SoHo shop. I need to go back when it isn’t dark, and we aren’t meditating, because the décor is amazing - all recycled chopped-up chairs and whatnot. It sounds weird, but trust me, it is groovy. That night, we were also toasting the launch of three to-die-for soy candles: in the land of milk and honey; nothing but everything beautiful; and of the wilderness, my favorite. They’re available at the shop, and at Barneys and they are yummy and very, very large.

3. Gingersnap’s Organic, a new East Village resty and shop, which catered it. A purveyor of “conscious cuisine,” all the food is raw, vegan and gluten-free. And delicious, which I’ll personally vouch for, because I ate my bodyweight in snacks.

4. Elena Brower, founder of Virayoga, who led it. A very charismatic chiquita, she is producing – and starring in – a new docuseries called On Meditation, which will air early next year on TV and the World Wide Interweb. I will keep you apprised of that; I’m dying to see the entire series myself.

Okay, so Elena’s tips, which she dispensed liberally both during and after the actual group-meditation part of the evening.

Although I’m a copious note-taker, I didn’t whip out my little pad during the session, for two reasons: One, my eyes were closed, and writing can be tricky – albeit not impossible – when your eyes are closed. And two, I just really wanted to focus, because I hadn’t yet meditated that day.

Thus, I will be paraphrasing and re-capping, rather than spewing out verbatim quotes. I hope you’re okay with that.

And since I’m feeling “listy” today, here goes:

1. You don’t need to go to a mountain-top to get into the zone. Park your –s on that couch, and don’t even think about that lone cereal bowl in the sink. Trust that you’ll get to it later. One of the goals of meditation – and I use the term “goal” loosely, because meditation is not about specific, quantifiable achievements – is to be able to drop down into it anywhere, any time.

2. Place your left hand over your heart and let your thoughts drop down. “Think of it as a mini-download,” said Elena. I loved this tip. It’s great to put all those racing images, all those nagging bits and pieces of daily intel, into one symbolic spot. And then forget about them for the time you’re meditating. If they pop back into your mind, gently nudge them back out again, and re-train your focus on your breath – or my personal obsession, my trusty ocean soundtracks.

Per Elena, we should be taking more cues from our hearts, and fewer from our heads. “Boss,” she said, pointing to her heart. “Secretary,” she said, pointing to her head.

3. Without being too rigid, establish a mini-ritual. If you can kinda sorta meditate at the same time, in the same place and in the same position every day, it just helps you slip into a meditative state all that much more quickly and easily. I also personally find that certain scents are useful too, whether it’s patchouli or something oceanic or, now, my new Red Flower Of the Wilderness candle!

4. Five minutes is fine. Five minutes is fantastic. Some days you’ll be able to go longer, which is wonderful. I just noticed that for myself, since I made my birthday resolution last month to try to meditate daily, I’ve easily been adding a minute or two every day. The more you do it, the more you want to do it.

5. With time, it will grow from a challenge to a full-tilt craving. Eventually, you won’t feel like yourself without meditating. You’ll be longing to go “home” – that safe, cozy and grounding space within you that meditation creates.

I had no idea there were actual whirling dervishes.

Because of a few plot twists, I’ve had almost eight weeks off. Off and on, that’s my new lot in life. I worked like a dog from January until July of this year, then took the rest of the summer off, then worked really hard for about six weeks again until early October, and then “rested.”

I say “rested” rather than rested, only because I’ve been working on all manner of unpaid projects. Fun stuff, future-y stuff. Stuff that doesn’t pay the bills, but also doesn’t stress me out.

Work-wise, I’ve fully embraced the Gig Economy. I have zero desire for a permanent job, one that would require me to be firing on all cylinders twelve months a year. I can fire on some of my cylinders twelve months a year, but not all of them.

So instead, I like to pretend that I’m a glamorous actress who works on a film or two a year, and then she rests. Or “rests.”

But as much as I like my new-ish sitch, there’s an itsy bitsy problem: I get rusty between gigs. And all of sudden, I need to get seriously unrusty. Next year is shaping up a lot like 2011, and I’m solidly booked from early December until late June. Which is awesome, and I’m grateful for the work in this crummy  economy.

Still, I noticed today that I have a work-related nervous tic. A good tic, I guess, but a tic all the same: I clean and organize and straighten when I’m anxious.

For instance, after I bought that gorge new desk for my office in the summer, I just threw stuff in the drawers willy nilly and left it there in a big heap. Alright, not all of it was willy nilly. But there was one nightmare drawer with approximately 10 million receipts, bank deposit slips, business cards, etc.

So when did I suddenly decide that the nightmare drawer simply had to be completely revamped? This morning, of course, after I accepted a new rush assignment.

I guess there are worse habits than organizing your way out of office-drawer chaos. And I did feel better after I took care of it. I needed to catch up on my receipt filing, and I did.

But it was so weird, and meta, to sort of observe what I was doing and put a label on it. “Oh, you’re organizing six months of receipts right now because you’re completely freaked out. And you’re completely freaked out because you know that you’re staring down a half-year of heavy labor before you can take it easy again.”

I guarantee it was all the meditation I’ve been doing that gave me that detachment, to not beat myself up and to just give myself permission to clean and organize and straighten and then get back to that rush assignment. To trust that I’ll get unrusty, and everything will be groovy. Because I know everything will be groovy.

And on that note, I’m toodling off to meditate. Night-night.

You, lovely image, will soon be on my office wall.

Forgive me, dear reader, as  I toggle back and forth between two super duper important topics today: 1) The painfully slow, but actually happening, redecoration of my home office and 2) my newly re-upped discipline around meditation, and how it’s already having a positive impact on my life.

Why the toggling? Because, as you’ll soon glean, the two super duper important topics are entwined, much like turkey and stuffing. (I didn’t go too nutso on Thanskgiving, by the way, and I’ll trust you didn’t either. A minute on the lips, a lifetime on the hips…)

First, stare hard at the gorgeous image above. That, I’m happy to say, will soon be mounted on my office wall. It’s called “Storm Rolls In” and was shot by photographer Jodi Cobb off the coast of Alabama. If you’re into gloomy, dangerous ocean – as I obvi am – I think you’ll agree that it is a stunning picture. Bad things are about to happen, and the muddy navy and gray hues are spectacular.

I bought the 40 X 30 version, and as soon as Hubby paints the “accent wall” behind it (in “Geyser” by Martha Stewart Living, a decidedly uncheerful teal), I will bid adieu to the current artwork residing there -  a quartet of watercolors of Duchess of Devonshire types nabbed from Tepper Galleries – and put it in storage for our eventual move to the New England version of Barbie’s Dream House. I’ve loved having my fashionable, fan-wielding ladies around to keep me company while I work, and in the future, I can envision a chic little sitting area with them as the backdrop. But right now, it’s time to pack them up and dive into the ocean.

Which brings me to my meditation practice.

I’ve blogged previously about my borderline addiction to ocean meditation CDs, as well as my tendency to gaze at the crashing surf on YouTube. As much as I dig those, however, and as much as I consider meditation to be a prime source of mental and physical health, my own “practice” has been spotty in the past year. Thus, endless guilt. I know meditation is incredibly healthy, so exactly why haven’t I been doing it on a regular basis?

Well, for my birthday earlier in the month, I made precisely one resolution: To meditate every day, even if it’s only for a few minutes before my concentration sputters and I’m mentally rocketed back into my busy life. From researching the meditation chapter in Momover book, I’d learned that it’s very much about ass in seat (or on a schmancy meditation cushion) every day. Better to meditate a little daily than to attempt some monster session once a month.

The everyday approach helps you to get into the zone that much more quickly, and also to provide a tiny dose of the relaxation that meditating is so great at imparting. Breaking up your daily stress cycle – that constant churn of having to do this, and having to do that – is key to building your immune system, and just generally helping you feel like you have the world by the you-know-whats.

My daily practice entails listening to my current fave ocean meditation CD while I move through a number of sea-themed tableaux. I’m at the top of a gorgeous, Architectural Digest-worthy lighthouse, with a 360-degree view of a roiling Arctic Ocean; I’m in Hawaii, watching the surf crash into a cave formed by lava flow; I’m sitting on the beach at a resort in Bora Bora, gazing out at a thatch-roofed hut; etc., etc.

There are more images I “visit” – beaches I’ve actually been to, shoreline I actually know – and sometimes those work their way in too. And since I’ve been keeping a log (I know; I’m so OCD with my logs and journals), I can see that I’ve been steadily increasing the time I spend moving through these “seascapes” in my sessions. (I don’t set a timer, although I know many other meditators do.)

But here’s what I’ve been pondering: Is what I’m doing meditating? Or visualizing? And should I care? Is one somehow “better” than the other?

When I field-tripped to the Blum Center for Health a while back, and took a guided meditation with Elizabeth Greig, director of the Mind Body Spirit program, she told me that what I do is basically a mashup of meditating and visualizing, “and it sounds great.” I was encouraged by that, and still am.

If we’re splitting hairs, meditation is “passive” thought awareness, and visualization is “active” thought awareness. But visualization, as I’m sure you’re aware, can also help you achieve goals by helping you form an intense vision of something you want to manifest. (This is the best book of all time on visualization; if you don’t already own a copy, buy one stat.)

But what I’m doing in my walk-in closet, eyes closed and earphones on, isn’t visualization in the classic sense. Why? Because I don’t really want to live in a lighthouse, even one as posh and luxe as the one I’ve created in my head. And maybe I’ll get to Bora Bora with Hubby at some point, maybe I won’t.

Nope, I just like to visit every day. Surf in a little stressed or distracted, and surf out relaxed, refreshed and Zen.

Deep thoughts are contained in these pages.

Before we get started, may I please take a sec to cast a spotlight on my fellow birthday buddies? Lauren Hutton and Martin Scorsese. Two very cool cats. A cool Scorpio girl cat and a cool Scorpio boy cat. Not that I’m biased, but I consider Scorpio to be the most bitching sign in the zodiac. We are all that.

So the thing about Scorps is that we’re often fixated on re-invention. We like to switch it up. Keep things moving. Keep ourselves moving. And even if you’re only a casual reader of this itty bitty website, you can glean that I like to tinker and fuss with the Me Project.

Sure, I might sit on my fat –s from time to time, knitting and watching RHOBH (Monday’s ep was a jaw-dropper; the “win” goes to Pinky), but mostly I can be found engaged in all manner of activities.

Like recently, when I hauled myself to a Nalini Method class at Rupa Mehta’s newish digs on the West side of Gotham. I hadn’t seen her for roughly a year, when I last took her class and was so sore I couldn’t move for days. Wowza.

This time, I was in slightly better shape (thank you P90X, thank you endless running along the Hudson River), so I wasn’t quite as stiff and rickety in the ensuing 48 hours. And that’s a good thing, because I had some work to do: Reading Rupa’s inspiring, original book about the “weight of words” and picking a single one that would serve as a catchphrase and guiding principle for my entire life.

Pressure much?

For the record, Rupa’s “one word” is CONNECT. Her chipper business colleague – Shannon – has chosen CULTIVATE.

Those are meaningful. Substantial.

But I wasn’t after substantial. I was after superficial. Superficial with a fairy-dust sprinkling of edge and discipline. And after wracking my brain for my “one” and only – I am a word person; words are my joy and my livelihood – here’s what I came up with:

CRISP.

CRISP as in: Buttoned-down. Organized. Decisive. Focused.

Sometimes I embody those values. But not nearly enough. Certainly not every day.

My desire to be CRISP doesn’t mean I’ll be morphing back into the workaholic I was in my swingle and pre-baby years. N-e-v-e-r again will I be so career-obsessed.

But can’t I be CRISP about blasting through my To Do list in the morning so I can hang out with the Wee Lass in the park all afternoon? Or keeping my lovely home a zero-clutter zone akin to a cold, impersonal hotel? (Swoon. Love cold, impersonal hotels.) Or attempting to learn French for the zillionth time? Or getting over my driving phobia so I can spirit us away to the town pool at a moment’s notice, and not have to rely so heavily on Hubby?

Clearly, I’ll be getting a lot of mileage out of the multi-dimensional CRISP.

After I told Shannon what my “one” was, I asked him (that’s not a typo; Shannon’s a dude), to pass it along to Rupa for her feedback. And she emailed back both her thoughts on my choice, as well as a handy-dandy definition of my word:

“Whenever someone comes to me with their word, I love to look up the definition. I love that Dana is driven to have it together and be buttoned-down, but what I also find interesting is her humble, driven energy to be fresh and new, hence her site and life goals. And, she seems to be able to make decisions and follow her passion in her unique way which all fall in line with the definition of crisp. She’s not afraid to be different and I think her word reflects that too:)”

*************************************************************************************************************

I likey. I’ve always wanted to be slightly intimidating, and to cut people off mid-sentence, crisply. But I haven’t quite nailed the crisp writing bit. At least for this blog. In my “real” work, I’m not nearly as chatty.

I thought it was very sweet of Rupa to take the time to suss-out my wacky word. And before I forget, I want to let all you mamas know that for the 9:35 and 10:45 am Nalini Method classes, she’s offering free on-site childcare (complete with creative movement, art and story time throughout December).

Okay, I’m nipping off for a pedi as part of my dawn to dusk birthday celebration. While I’m out, be sure to pick your “one word.” It just might help you re-org your very existence.

This pic of gamma brain waves is gorge, n'est ce pas?

I woke up this morning thinking about Olivier Theyskens, the Belgian fashion wunderkind.

(Actually, he’s getting up there in years, so he’s not quite so kind-y. But he’s so damn talented that he’s eternally wunder-y.)

It’s not so much that I was thinking about Olivier’s work – although it’s amazing, and I’m thrilled he’s now helming Theory, one of my all-time favorite brands.

Rather, I’m obsessed with something former Barneys honcho Julie Gilhart mentioned about him in that gi-normous piece in the Times that ran back in August.

“He knows how to manage his mind,” said Julie, who has known Olivier since he was a Wee Lad of 19 and has major insight into what makes him keep on truckin in the insanely fickle fashion biz.

It’s kind of crazy that one line in a verrry long profile, published 10 weeks ago, would stick with me like that, right?

Well, it would be nutso if I hadn’t already given mind-management an enormous amount of, well, mental space. I devoted an entire chapter of my Momover book to it, and I pretty much consider the successful execution of mind-management to be nothing short of the key to happiness. Really and truly.

Though it takes a tremendous amount of discipline, it basically boils down to our inner dialogue, and the way we chit-chat with ourselves all day long. And don’t even try to tell me you don’t chit-chat with yourself all day long, because I will NOT believe you.

It’s like those adorable Maybelline commercials, with Christy Turlington and her little foundation “eraser,” telling us to bounce our self-defeating inner chatter.

Personally, I have my Dark Dana days and my Light Dana days. Dark Dana is grumbly and growly, and doesn’t do a boffo job of managing her mind. Light Dana just gets on with it, finding little pockets of fun and joy, even when, just five seconds ago, she was completely ballistic and batshit-crazy about something work- or otherwise-related.

So how to have more Light than Dark days? By stopping yourself dead in your tracks whenever your mind starts to head down the rabbit hole. I think we all have a lot more control over our inner dialogues than we’d like to admit, or own.

Unless you’re one of those naturally perky types (and if you are, we hate you…kidding), it’s hard but incredibly worth it to try to manage your mind. You know what helps? Meditation.

In fact, meditation helps with just about everything. Om.

Hi Angels, so glad you're back in my life.

You know how some peeps are real roll-with-the-times types, embracing an endless stream of new fads, trends, gadgets and gew-gaws?

I’m not one of  ‘em.

I mean, I do like to learn. And even though I’m finally – thank the frigging universe – a very happy mama camper, I’m still on a never-ending quest to tweak and improve myself. That’s why they call it Momover, folks.

But in digging out my office, and deciding what gets to continue living on my bookshelves and in the drawers of my beauteous new “Antique White” desk, I’ve been struck by the fact that the stuff I love and want to learn more about hasn’t changed a whole hell of a lot since I was in high school.

Here’s the tidy list of topics I semi-hoard books and info about:

1. Dutch genre painting: I’m obsessed with the 16th-century works of Pieter Bruegel the Elder, and have many gorge coffee table books of his lively, colorful and psychotically detailed paintings.

2. Français: In my office cabinet (and there’s more in storage), I have workbooks, dictionaries, CDs and DVDs by Berlitz, Rosetta Stone and Living Language. The Rosetta Stone was très spendy, nabbed at one of those handy dandy airport kiosks when a flight got delayed. I think it’s high time I finally used it. But then again, I find the Living Language materials so much more Luddite-y and compelling…

3. Fashion: I’ve been on a tear lately, snapping up advice books right and left. But the ones in heavy rotation right now are Style Evolution by Kendall Farr, That Extra Half an Inch by Victoria Beckham and I Heart Your Style by Amanda Brooks. Love.

4. Crunchiness | Grooviness | Spirituality: In addition to an alarming number of tomes by the Dalai Lama (a byproduct of my Richard Gere fixation, me thinks), I have soooo much great stuff on meditation, crystals, rituals, etc. But you really have no idea how happy I am that I unearthed my precious Angel Cards. They’d gone missing for a while, just long enough for me to forget how fun they are. There are lots of ways to use them, but I like the daily approach. You just think about something you’d like to accomplish that day, or a problem or hurdle you need to get around or over, and then pick a card from the shuffled deck. Each of them has a quality that you should focus on to help you work your magic.

Right now, it’s 7 a.m. and I have a very full day in front of me. I’ve just shuffled the deck and the card I’ve chosen is…

PLAY

Whoa. That’s wack. I’m starting a new job today.

Here’s what the Angel Cards book says about PLAY: “Maximize every moment of aliveness. Experience pleasurable involvement in all your activities and enjoy what you are doing. Have fun!”

Bingo. This is support from the universe telling me exactly what I’d already been thinking: That after a glorious summer off, I need to bring that spirit of happiness, lightness and balance into my work. I can do an amazing job and keep the stress under wraps. And still have lots of Q time for Hubby and the Wee Lass.

That’s kind of the challenge for all of us mamas, right? B-A-L-A-N-C-E.