Hey type nerds, have you noticed the new ad campaign for Ram trucks? The aesthetics are built around the idea of locking up a platen for printing on a letterpress. Sure it’s technically backwards, but I suppose they had to make it legible. Either way I love the sentiment!
So you may remember this post from the beginning of the year in which I tout my new yoga habit. Confession: I haven’t been to yoga since there was snow on the ground.
While part of it was the “not enough time” trap all women seem to stumble into, most of the reason for my faulty attendance was that I just couldn’t find a class or instructor that gave me what I was looking for from yoga.
Some yogis love to sweat, some love to stretch, but what I was really looking for was the mental clarity that comes from moving slowly and concentrating on your breath. My intro class was fantastic, I left feeling light and clear, but once I started attending various beginner-level classes, the pace picked up and I missed holding poses for several minutes while I let my tension ease. I read this post from The Mollie Shambeau Show a few days ago, and it hit me hard.
Shavasana is known as “Corpse Pose” because it’s here, in these final few moments that we die. Not just as an idea, but actually. Understanding that one has collected so much during their lives. Not only books, houses, bank accounts—but inwardly… the memories of insults, the memories of flattery, the memories of your own particular experiences—neurotic achievements which give you position. To die to all that without argument, without discussion, without any fear—just to give it up—will create freedom.
Die to everything that you know psychologically so that your mind is clear, not tortured… so that it sees things as they are, both outwardly and inwardly.
You came to your mat as one person. You came to your mat as the thinker. You came to your mat being that of your thoughts. As you leave your mat today, you’re brand new. You’re no longer your thoughts or your doubts or your fears. And each and every day you come to your mat, this is what you do. You shed your old, and you become new. Innocent, fresh… and through this innocence, this is where you live in compassion… when you bring your yoga off of your mat and into your world.
Namaste.
I have a bad habit of thinking about the stupid things I’ve said or done over and over and over… and over. I let these moments that I’m sure no one else remembers wiggle in and keep me up at night, shaking my confidence and reminding me that I’m not as great as I sometimes let myself think. Toxic thoughts are tough to shake on your own, and sometimes we just need someone else to tell us to knock it off. Truth be told, part of the reason I’m writing this post is so I have this quote available anytime I need to read it. Oh, and anyone know a good yoga class?
About a month ago, I finally set foot in the brick and mortar home to Glitter Workshop. I’ve been receiving Naomi’s e-blasts for months now, but just hadn’t managed to make it in. How cute is this owl trivet I picked up?
Glitter Workshop offers workshops, make ‘n’ take parties and is responsible for a number of craft shows in the Madison area, including the Summer Craftacular, coming up in a few months! If you’re a Madisonian, make sure to check it out!
First and foremost, this is what I see from my window. Spring is wonderful.
Second, since this is the first day for many many days that I got to quit working at quitting time, I got to catch up on my favorite blog. There are not so many people who can make me laugh and make me cry in such rapid succession and feel better for it afterward. Have a great weekend!
I don’t often write about what’s going on in my personal life on this blog. I’m the type of person who needs time to process what happens around me—I know better than to think I can come home at night and write something entertaining or meaningful about my day. So I usually confine my writing to projects I’m working on and handmade goodies I covet, but sometimes something so important happens that it creeps into everything I will do from that point forward.
Two weeks ago, my mom was in a terrible terrible accident. She was driving home on a country road when a driver crossing her path chose not to stop at a stop sign. These are not busy roads, he’d probably blown through that intersection dozens of times before. But this time someone was there, this time his decision broke all of her ribs, both collarbones and her pelvis. His decision filled her chest cavity with fluid, his decision made every shallow breath incredibly painful.
His decision will keep her in the hospital for almost a month. His decision will not let her sleep next to her husband for another six months. His decision will change the lives of everyone she loves.
My mom is amazing. She is dealing with the pain and focused on recovery. What she is taking away from all of this is how incredibly lucky she is to be here. One setback after another comes her way, and she finds the good in all of it.
I have been described as an aggressive driver. I’ve never blatantly blown a stop light or sign, but I do speed and probably take more risks than I should. I used to drive the same route a lot, much of the time on autopilot. What I am taking away from this is how much one decision can impact your life. How quickly the world can change.
As you head out to work this morning, remember what an incredible responsibility driving a car is. Honor the agreement you’ve made with your fellow drivers: Pay attention. Watch out for others, they may not be watching out for you. Obey speed limits and stop at stop signs. Those few seconds you shave off your commute are just not worth the risk.
Even if you think you’re invincible—or worse yet, you don’t care about yourself—you don’t want to be that guy who makes that one stupid decision to put someone’s mom in the hospital.
622 press | LETTERPRESS GOODS MADE BY HAND 