Reunited with Bikram

Today is a Philippine holiday, the end of Ramadan. Eid Mubarak, my Muslim friends.

This also translates to sleeping in with El Paco, having unrushed and home-made breakfast, quality time with my love (we’re buying his school shoes today) and about an hour of quiet blogging time for mommy. Yay! I love non-working holidays!

I made some open-faced sandwiches from pan de sal halves,
cream cheese, tomatoes, dried basil, chopped prunes and
truffle oil (instead of butter)

the usual morning fruit bowl: pineapple, papaya, mango and banana
Oh and no coffee today just tea -- wee! :)

I was planning to go to yoga class this morning but I was too sore. Like really achey sore. The good kind, I think I’d actually benefit from going to class today, there’s one at noon but I’ll play it by ear…more like, let’s see if Paco will let me leave the house without him. Going back, I went to my first bikram class last Sunday… my first in 5 years. Funny but the profound realization of the need to go back after 6 years was brought about by my selfie post. Lol! This sarcastic journal of mine is really changing my life – for the better! THANK YOU BLOGGING! I recall how differently I felt about myself, others and life in general when I was doing yoga. I was sharp, focused and had a more serene outlook -- a gentle quiet one. I let the small stuff slide, which enabled me to channel my energy to deal with the bigger issues. I was more centered and I felt wonderful. So last Sunday, I called the nearest bikram yoga studio to get their schedule of classes. I packed my yoga mat, towels (you need 2), toiletries, change of clothes and my water bottle. Just when my heart was set to go, I get the first-timer jitters. I'm not flexible. Will I be able to stand the heat for 90 minutes? What if I pass out? Throw up? Did I consume any pork this week? Hope it doesn't smell in class. Oh no...the smell!

I sent my Vancouver BFF a WhatsApp message for a prayer request… “I will do hot yoga today after eons. Please pray that I don’t pass out. J” 

She replied half an hour later… “Will pray for u. Don’t force urself w hot yoga ha. Follow what ur body tells u. If its too much even going for half an hour is something. Ease into it. (thumbs up icon)” We chatted for a bit after that and I felt better. I know she prayed for me. I’ll be alright.

I arrived the studio 45 minutes early. I’m obviously anxious. I went to the locker room to change into my yoga outfit (sports bra and boy leg shorts) and I cringed at how my reflection has changed. Same yoga outfit, same person, different tummy. I used to like the way I looked in rib-baring outfits. Brushing my self-deprecating thoughts away, I moved away from the mirror and walked out of the locker room. I’m doing this – ugly belly or not. I went to the heated room to reserve a spot and placed my mat and towel. There were 4 people in the room already. Wow! Early. Really early yoginis. One of them noticed the lost look on my face and asked if I was a first timer. I said yes – a bit unsure. It IS technically my first time in 6 years. He showed me a good spot – under the fan and away from the heat vent. I said my thanks and began unrolling my mat and towel. This was really nerve wracking. After what felt like hours of staring in the mirror, stretching and trying (and failing) to relax, the receptionist called me out of the heated room for an orientation with the teacher. Apparently, there was another first-timer. Yay! When the teacher saw me, she asked, “Is it your first time? You never tried this before?” I said I had back in 2008. She smiled and waved her hand dismissingly at me, like she was shooing me away. “Oh you’re not a first-timer. No need for an orientation. It’s okay.” I must’ve looked scared or confused or both because she followed with, “Don’t worry, it will all come back to you in the room. Trust me. It’s okay.” I walked back to the hot room desperately trying to recall how my orientation went 6 years ago. 

Sit down or lie down when you feel dizzy.

That’s all I remember. That should work.

I sat on my mat as the room started to fill with other students. Some were doing headstands and some really difficult stretches and poses. I was intimidated. The new girl who just finished orientation walked in and sat next to me. Yay! I started to ask her about the orientation. “What did she tell you? Just sit when you feel dizzy? Can we drink water between poses?” She hurriedly nodded yes (I guess that applies to all my questions) as the teacher walked into the classroom and alerted the class to the start of practice.

Ninety hot minutes of painful muscle stretching, twists, back bends, forward bends and deep breathing exercises, I walked out of the heated room literally dripping wet. I had to wince and shut my eyes a couple of times during practice as the sweat was beginning to drip into my eyes and I got some into my nose twice or thrice during some forward bends – yup, that kind of dripping wet sweat. My towel was wet (not damp...wet), my mat was in need of an alcohol wipe down, my top and shorts needed some serious wringing and I needed a shower. I felt amazing. Everything came back to me. This is why I love yoga. Ninety minutes of focus – on your body, mind and soul. The savasana (dead man’s pose) was my favorite. This is the pose where you let everything go. You lie on your back (sometimes on your belly) and you focus on one spot and you just don’t move. You stop thinking. You just let go. And that’s what I did. I let it go. I let go of the day’s events, my to do list, my targets, my anxiety, all the hurt, all my fears, all my wants, my plans, everything – out into the tiny, slightly burnt hole (which I later learned was actually a heat vent) in the ceiling. My back hurts, my sides, my hamstrings, my legs, my arms, geez even my chin hurts (I AM NOT KIDDING! MY CHIN REALLY HURTS)! But I feel wonderful. My spine feels a lot straighter, seriously after just 2 sessions I noticed that I brushed my teeth with a straighter back – hahaha!

So there, after blogging about this I guess I’m going to the 12:30pm class today and I’m actually pretty excited.

Oh and that night, my bestfriend from Canada sent me some amazing photos of her hike with the hubby that day. She’s said this view was just 20 minutes away from where she lived. The thought of driving out for just 20 minutes and seeing this great view of the mountains and an ocean is beyond happiness. Oh well. Someday, Ysa. 

BFF Ysa -- such a tease! :)
Okay, okay, your photos are awesome!

20 minutes away from where she lives...Dang!!!

She just had to send me this photo too...just to rub it in.
Ugh.

To repay her for the breathtaking photos, I sent her my I-survived-yoga sweaty locker room shot. Lol!

I survived and will be back for more...

Then it struck me -- the studio is 20-minutes away from where I lived and the view of that tiny hole in the ceiling gave me the same feeling of peace and serenity as Ysa’s mountain and ocean view. Hah! It’s a TIE! The hole works for me – for now at least. Yes, yoga will do… for now but Ysa owes me and P a hike in 2016.

The GOAL but for now I must learn to LOCK MY KNEES! :)

The Selfie Situation

It's Friday and I'm expecting traffic to be it’s usual horrible self. I hurried home and skipped my usual gym session so I can squeeze some quality time with P before his dad picks him up for a before-the start-of –school-out-of-town weekend. I reached home extremely excited to play with my little boy that I switched off the car engine, swooped my bag, heels (I drove home in flip flops) and tumbler in one continuous, super efficient move, all-in-5-seconds. I was half-running half-balancing my stuff to the door ONLY to be greeted by a napping P on the couch. *face palm* Yaya said he has been asleep for just 2 minutes so this nap will be a while. *double face palm*

Feeling defeated, I went upstairs having a mental debate: to gym or not to gym. Ok, I'll leave for the gym now and just come back before 5pm. Hmmm. In Friday traffic?! Am I nuts? I removed my necklace, unlatched my wrist watch and replaced my bracelets in the dresser. My mind wanders as I gave my neck a good rub. Dang, that neckpiece was heavy! The price I have to pay for wearing a plain tank to work. A massage maybe? Nah, I’ll do that tomorrow. As I removed my ring and placed it on the table top, I saw P’s framed photo and an immensely brilliant idea slapped me awake from my mental reverie. Photo slideshow. Yes!

Damn post-lunch espresso… you good! *high 5-ing the friendly Starbucks barista in my head now*

Based on experience, I know I’d be spending another night tossing and turning (I usually can’t sleep on the first night without P in my bed -- boohoo), so I took my phones out of my bag and grabbed (and slightly dusted) my ipad from the drawer. Time to look for photos that I can upload in my laptop for a late-night slideshow presentation of Ps pics. I usually play this to relax me while I have a glass (or two or three) of Chianti at bedtime (only for no-P nights). Ahem, ahem… yes, friends…. the technophobe mommy knows how to make a slideshow presentation – with music! I am just a movie download away from being really high tech! * Smug smile and patting myself at the back *

I was going through photos in my ipad and I saw some funny Paco selfies.  That sneaky sneaky boy took selfies?! Hahaha! They were out-of-frame and in thermal mode (I made up the thermal thingy. I don’t really know what it’s called so I’ll just post the photos). Made me laugh out loud. I added them to my slideshow. I should make a collage too. 

Then I saw some mommy-&-P selfies (what do you call selfies made by 2 people again?) They were horrible. P and I didn’t know where to look and we weren’t even smiling. Why can’t we do proper selfies?

I’ve never been a fan of the selfie mostly because I take horrible shots of myself. I have friends who can smile NATURALLY, look at the lens and not the screen, and the headshot will still be within the frame. Sounds simple enough but why couldn’t I do it?

Here’s a sample of one of 3 selfies I posted online. I was stuck in 2 hour traffic and was so bored I took a couple… no… a lot of selfies. Just saying this is seriously making my ears hot. Anyhow, I was afraid the other motorists would see what I was doing so I positioned the phone really low (like knee level) and after excruciatingly long minutes of angle-checking, I smile. Well, that's the only smile I can manage. I was on the fence if I should post the best shot on Facebook (trust me, this was the best shot). Well, I did. How brave, right?  

Here’s my very unprofessional and highly unreliable analysis on why I can’t take a proper selfie.

The smile.

My selfie smiles always look fake and awkward. I get too self-conscious. I mean, people are going to know you’re smiling at your phone when you took the photo right? Isn’t that kinda weird? 

Where to look.

I don’t know if I should look at the tiny lens or check the screen to see if my dumbo ears are still within frame. This doesn’t help with the smile too. How can you smile when you’re busy checking if your headshot is off-center or not? If I look at the camera, my face is always off-center. If I look at the screen, well… then I would have a well-framed photo -- of me looking down. Oof.

The frame.

I don’t know if my head is too big or if the phone is too small. Or my arms aren’t long enough to hold the phone at a decent distance for a headshot within the tiny square. So tricky! It may be a physiological issue. Tsk tsk tsk... I blame genetics.

Skills, man. Skills.

Selfies require multitasking skills, serious hand-eye coordination, a good aim, and a tough jaw for a well-practiced smile. After a quick assessment, I could safely say I’m a 0 out of 4. No wonder my photos always come out wonky, awkward, off-center and just plain bad.

The only good selfies I take are the ones when P and I act silly. Maybe I shouldn’t be too serious about selfies. 

My fave selfie series with the birthday boy. :)

The solution.

Yoga.
My yoga teacher would always remind me to let go and to allow myself to love me (and focus on just me) for 90-minutes a day. He would always catch me looking at someone else, checking if I’m doing my stance correctly. Oof. May seem absurd but I really think yoga is the answer to great selfies.

Yoga stretches your tight arm muscles so you can move the phone far enough to take a decent shot.

Yoga 'imposes' 90 minutes of self-love where you focus on no one else but yourself. That will fix the awkward smile. And if you’re confident about your smile you can focus on getting your head within the frame.

Focus is key too and yoga does a great job in improving focus.

So yes, I will go to the studio tomorrow so I can get my 90-minutes of amazing selfie skills lesson.

Yoga and selfies—who would’ve thunk!  

Since I know my areas for improvement, let's see if I can take a decent selfie now. I'll use my laptop cam.

...

...

Why am I suddenly nervous?!?! Lol

Ok, so I didn't know the cam works with a timer. Oof.
 I felt I had time to adjust so I can fit in the frame...but no!
Selfie fail.

Let's try this again....

Lost a quarter of my head...awkward smile (but at LEAST a smile!)
and I'm still not looking at the camera. * face palm *

Ok, so selfies aren't my thing. Acceptance is key. 

But my resolve to go back to yoga hasn't wavered. 

I will not give up. My next selfie post will be decent and by then you'd know, I've started to let go and have been regularly practicing 90-minutes of focus and self-love. 

Namaste.

Response to the Gift of Wonder

I receive feedback and responses to my posts regularly. Thank you! You know who you are. However, today I received a very special letter in response to my post ‘The Gift of Wonder.” This letter pulled some heartstrings and made my soul smile. There is indeed hope for my son to grow up decent, loving and kind albeit his circumstance. Thank you, Mr. Anonymous. Below is his letter – posted with permission.

Hi Velvet! I was thinking about starting a blog, and I remember seeing on Facebook that you have one, so I dropped by to see what you're writing about. I stumbled upon your blog post about meeting up with C.

We've never really been close. If you think about it, we're not really much more than acquaintances, but you've always been kind to me. This is why it saddened me to see how you feel about love and marriage now, after what you've been through.

I'm not married yet. To that point, I have to admit that I'm not experienced. I would like to think, however, that I've had my share of pain in my life. My last breakup was so bad, I lost over 20 pounds in just over a week (yes, that's how I lost weight. Not some diet or whatnot). One cheating girlfriend destroyed me, almost completely. I became cynical, jaded. I didn't think I'd ever be in a serious relationship again. But eventually, even though I changed, I also healed.

But that's not what I really want to tell you. What really caught my attention was you asking 'Ok now, do you know how difficult it is to actually find someone worth marrying AND who would love my son as his own?'

I have two things I want to tell you.

I'm an only child raised by a single mom. My mom didn't marry my dad, because he didn't take care of his annulment at the time (he was separated). Although my mom did date later on, she never found someone who she felt was worth the trouble. But, she is very happy.

The first thing I want to tell you, is you don't have to find someone. You can certainly make it on your own, and live a happy and fulfilled life. You can make your son the center of your world, and you'll both be happy.

In 2006, I had a girlfriend who was a single mom. Her son was only 6 months old when we started going out, and we were together for about two and a half years. We were planning to get married, but things didn't quite work out.

My current girlfriend is a single mom. She's turning 40 this year, and her daughter is turning 22. We're hoping to get married by the end of the year.

I also have several friends who are involved with single moms, and have long term plans with them.

The second thing I want to tell you, is that should you decide to share your life with a man, there are still good people out there who will accept and love not only you, but also your son.

I'm sure you're in pain. I can only imagine what you must be going through. Learn your lessons, make the changes you need to. I know that it's so hard to be optimistic through all the bullshit we have to deal with in life. Always remember, however, that the world is still a beautiful place, and still has many beautiful people. Even men ☺

I hope what I wrote will help you, even in a small way. If you ever want to ask me anything, just holler. All the best!

Here's an excerpt of my response to his email:

Thank you. :)

Hug your mommy for me. 

My one great wish is to raise P the way your mom has raised you.

Good luck with the wedding prep, dear.

You know how I feel about marriage but guys like you are worth the risk of promising an ‘ever after’ with.

Your fiancee is very blessed. I’m happy you found each other. :)

Best wishes to both of you.

Much love and respect,

Velvet

The Gift of Wonder

It might be gluten-induced (I had rigatoni for dinner…goodbye mommy abs) or the unnecessary after-dinner espresso I had, which also happens to be my third cup for the day (eep) but it happened again. Nothing full blown – half a tear at most. I caught myself early on and was able to dry my eyes using the ever-reliable air conditioning vent. Well, it’s about the right time cycle-wise but I hope this won’t be a monthly thing. Not a big fan of tears and emotion. Gluten and caffeine may or may not be culprits but Spotify was definitely a main accessory to the crime. Yup, it’s the same suicidal playlist I just love torturing myself with…Your Favorite Coffeehouse. Add the rain and the weirdly soothing swish of the windshield to the mix and there you have it folks – a caffeine-powered, overthinking and dangerously emotional Velvet on the wheel. Uh-oh.

I met a former colleague and newly found kindred spirit for brunch earlier. We’re both single moms raising our sons. We reconnected over facebook and met up for a friendly chat. We swapped workout and diet stories, funny anecdotes about our little boys, laughed about our ‘misguided choices’ and oddly found ourselves nodding silently over the more painful parts. It was one of the best brunches I’ve had. Good company, strong coffee, excellent food and her stories – oh her stories. They were bitter sweet. But it was not the stories that left me awestruck. It was how she told them -- with a smile evoking such gentle strength. Then she said something that blindsided me…big time.

Brunch with my twin, C -- I'll explain the twin part next time.
grabbed from her IG account ;)

Between spoons of greek yoghurt and coddled eggs, she asked if I would consider marrying again. I answered, almost automatically, “No.” She furrowed her brow and I was stunned. We were on point on almost everything. Why the disconnect? I thought I was having brunch with a kindred spirit here. Why was my answer met with a look of absurdity? “Why,” she asked. “Why would I?” I answered rather smugly. “Marriage is extremely overrated. If I ever succeed in getting myself un-married, why would I even want to deal with that s**t  again?” I think I came on too strong. Just as I was beginning to regret using such harsh words she smiled THAT same gentle smile again and I knew I was headed for trouble. She pointed out that I was just traumatized but that things could change in time. She isn’t closing her doors to marriage. She’s willing to try again... someday...maybe...if the right person comes along.

Oh how brave!

Bananas! Totally bananas!

BUT I wasn’t letting this go without a fight.

“Ok now, do you know how difficult it is to actually find someone worth marrying AND who would love my son as his own?” That should surely stump her.

She smiled. Uh-oh. That’s not a I’m-stumped-and-I-can’t-give-you-a-decent-answer-smile.    

“Vel, a friend of mine once said that love isn’t something you can expect from the new guy at the onset. For starters, it's enough that the guy is nice to your son and respects him. Isn’t it enough that he is a DECENT man and treats you and your son right? Then the love will follow.” Wow. Ok, now I’m stumped.

…

…

“Nah,” I shook my head, defeated. “NAH.”

“You’re jaded, Vel,” she said, again smiling ever so sweetly.

Ouch. Am I?

As I drive in the rain, my thoughts fly back to my conversation with Mish yesterday. I remember having this unshakeable feeling of dread brought about by an item in my to-do list -- finish annulment homework. In a slight panic, I texted Mish to meet me for breakfast (technically lunch in my time zone). Over oatmeal, she recounted her pre-annulment horror story and the terrifying thoughts that haunted her, which were surprisingly similar to mine. Then she said them…the words that snapped me out of my anxiety-filled bleh day. “Things will change in time. It won’t always be this way. The nightmare will end and your past will stop haunting you. Trust me.” Sigh. I trust her. I claim it. I feel renewed as protons start to rush in.

Somewhere along EDSA-Guadalupe, Ian Britt starts to sing and my espresso-fueled brain zones in on the lyrics. Just before the last line of the chorus, a frog magically appears in my throat and my eyes start to sting. Oh no.

http://ianbritt.bandcamp.com/track/the-shape-of-us

You're no longer alone.

We've found a space to name our own.

There ain’t no need to fret or fuss.

We've got all the strength we need in the shape of us.

And I know you've had it tough.

Your road's been bumpy and rough.

But say goodbye to a world that you once knew.

I have every faith in me and you.

Hold my hand.

Hold my heart.

Let go your fear.

Darling I will always be here.

I never felt quite so at home.

Your sweet caress is the best I've known.

Now that I've proved to you that I'm worthy of your trust.

Let us build a world in the shape of us.

Darling I will always be here.

I am so blessed to have two of the strongest women I know encourage me. Thank you, C and Mish. I may never meet him or even consider wanting to, at least not yet BUT you have definitely opened my heart to the healing power of WONDERING. And yes, I did “wonder” about what it would be like if Richard Gere sang this song to me… with those tiny half-squinting smiling eyes and salt-and-pepper hair... as he cooks me breakfast in his jammies in our little home by the sea. Sigh.  

  

The WONDERful Richard Gere
I know...I know. No need to burst my bubble.

Ten minutes before the car drama happened
With my gluten+caffeine partner Hannah post our 90-minute massage
(posted this because we just talked about how my blog is "littered" with your photos! lol)