With 2009 in mind, I just want to ask: shouldn't auld acquaintance be forgot?  For lots of us on the transformative path, saying goodbye to old people places and things sounds about as painful as winning the lottery.  I mean, how better to move forward and get our healing on than to get rid of the junk hanging around reminding us of where we came from? Sometimes people from our past can be a real drag - the semi-annually revisited ex-relationship, the "friend" we've been avoiding for 12 years, that really totally sweet guy who seems so UN-like someone who would run a meth lab...  and it's hard to know how to manage those relationships in the midst of huge shifts in our priorities, perspectives and pizza-toppings.  How can we discern the right time to cut the cord?  On the other hand, would shutting them out render us arrogant, cowardly assholes in our attempts to grow spiritually?  And anyhow, isn't it good and helpful to remember where we came from?  These are such good questions.  I know this because they are nearly impossible to answer for anyone but myself.   (But for anyone else with Boundaries vs Barriers issues,  click here for a word from Pema Chodron.)

When I am faced with a question like this, I like to begin by asking: "WTF, Karen?"  Sometimes I know, sometimes I don't know if I know, sometimes I do not want to know.  It can help to spend some structured, intentional time with my brain and heart and body to sort things out.  (This is where yoga comes in.  Or Sudoku.)  Thankfully, I've had a lot of help with this, so there are lots of tools in the transcendental toolshed these days.  Yoga is on the list.  Meditation's on the list.  Magic 8-ball makes a cameo during Mercury Retrograde.  And when my practice needs support, I ask helpers to help: Laryl Fett, energy healer and fairy godmother to the stars, Blake McLemore, bodyworker and mini-magician, Allison Bradley, the most highly tapped-in human I have ever spoken with on the telephone (aka Dial-A-Shaman), Rich Logan, gurujito cuidado sentimentale,  Anna, Molly and Cassy, the for-real, genteel laydeez of Walt Whitman...  One of my most prized luxuries, now that I think of it, is the access I have to a highly customized perspective-maker I call My Friend Rene.

Lots of days, before making the sometimes strained efforts of asana practice or the reading of inspirational books, I call Rene to get a head start on "WTFK?" So... you know that chick yapping on her cellphone at the bus stop the other day?  That was me.  I guess it was early, but Rene had been up forever already, driving from somewhere to somewhere else.  I can't pretend, though, that her drive was cause for the early morning yap.  Rene and I talk everyday.  She's probably my best friend, though I don't think I've assigned that position in a decade or so.  I once told her that she was the only person in my life I could listen to without covertly rolling my eyes.  Of course, that statement is way out of date.  Promise. 

Waiting for the bus that day, I watched 3 go by without stopping, all full up, every cyclist in Chicago reluctantly getting on for the season.  I narrated the bus parade to Rene, in between our de-constructing the psychological mechanics of communication.  "...the thing is that, when he says that, I think it doesn't mean to him what he thinks I think it would mean to me if I said..." Her patience is Nobel-worthy.  "Oh! Here comes the bus, gotta go! Call you later!"  (I'm not the phone chick yapping ON the bus, pressed into your laptop so close I could be talking on your phone.  That's someone else.)  I called Rene back.  "Missed it again!  So, anyway, I think he does care about it.  But caring just doesn't sound the same on him.  Some folks aren't going to say it, they're going to show it.  Maybe.  What's weird is that sometimes I think it's not just that caring, for them, sounds different - I think maybe it actually is different.  Like, what I think love is and what you think love is might be similar, I don't know, but what they think it is may be kindof shocking to us.  I want to think his insides look like my insides, but maybe they don't.  I get so stuck trying to fit everyone else into a program I wrote for my own life - I think I'm limiting everyone to my own tiny little specific filing system, and it doesn't work, you know?  There is no way I'm going to be on time for this freaking class.  I have to go.  Rene?  Are you still there?"

She was still there, and still is there, all day any day, which isn't what I intended to write about when I began this entry.  But since we're here: Thanks, Rene. It's possible that lots of folks have a someone they call every time they have two conflicting thoughts, but it's not possible that their someones are better than mine.  For all you readers who are not Rene, you can be thankful for Rene, too.  Trust me. 

What I've been getting at is that there are difficult navigation decisions that we have to make from time to time.  In those moments, we need perspective and direction.  We need to listen, to others some, but to ourselves LOTS.  Because our insides might sound like the ball dropping in Times Square, we need to be experienced listeners, and that takes practice.  Thankfully, I have created an opportunity to practice this very thing which is now prepped to be referenced.  Is this entire entry a plug for my class, you may ask?  Well, yes, it is.  All except the Rene part - that was a spontaneous gratitude moment.  But my intention in writing to you today is to invite you to my special intention-setting workshop this Saturday, a great time for anyone who usually intends to begin the year with a quiet moment, but instead finds themselves running into January with a to-do list leftover from December.  Don't let that happen this year.   Join me this Saturday to get your year started right off with a clear head, warm heart and balanced body.

For anyone new to Restorative Yoga, its just about the best thing ever.   We'll rest for 10-15 minutes at a time on pillows and blankets - there are no contraindications for this class, which means you can do it with the Romulan Death Flu.  (Though you should do it quarantined in that case.)   We will take time in each resting posture with a mindfulness directive, and time between postures to reflect and write about what emerges.  Each posture will be accompanied by yours truly on the singing bowls, and uplifting flower essences. I intend for you to be there!

Yoga Now Gold Coast (see link on sidebar)
742 N LaSalle (Chicago red line)
THIS SATURDAY JANUARY 3, 1-3pm
$30, sliding scale available if needed (no one turned away for lack of funds!)
Walk-ins are welcome, though you may register for the workshop online to be sure you have a spot! 

If you can't come Saturday, send this message to at least 7 people in the next 7 minutes or you will have 12 months of stale fortune cookies. Oh and Happy New Year!  See the sidebar for tiny changes to my Winter Schedule, including a new Tuesday night class at a Burlesque Dance studio, a Friday morning at Equinox Lincoln Park, and maybe another thing! Click here to go to the blog.