It's About the Ordinary

Hi, Boomers,

Yesterday, one of my yoga students causally said:, "Hey, Joan, I was riding the bus the other day and I saw someone reading your book." '

I hardly knew what to say, so I blurted out a medium scream of delight. I immediately understood the unexpected, the surprise and almost shock of that moment. I will cherish that moment for a very long time.

Today, there was another extraordinary moment. I was sitting with my best friend, John after our Friday tango lesson as we drank our margaritas and listening to him tell me that I just had to continue to write. He thought my book was full of important life issues that I could expound about in other books and he hoped that I would continue my writing journey. I was watching him talk to me, looking at his lips, and trying to understand why he felt so committed to my writing. "Darling, you just don't know what you have here."

It is very true that I haven't yet understood what SIXTY, SEX, & TANGO, Confessions of a Beatnik Boomer means in the long run of my life. I'm too busy worrying about my reading and signing event on Monday. I keep thinking how I'll trip up on the words, whether I can keep the rhythm going throughout the reading, how the audience will react. I don't really know what I have wrought with this book. I haven't had time to make an assessment or to distance myself from events unfolding.

This moment of launching my book feels surreal. What continues to feel real, however, is the ordinary, the daily activities - my yoga teaching, preparing for my book signing and reading in Corte Madera (northern California) on Nov. 14, which will be a kick off for my 50th high school reunion and all the beautiful moments I am sharing with old classmates who have become so very dear to me. I saw several yoga students outside the Wooden Center this afternoon who told me how happy they were because my level 2/3 class at 4:30 on Tuesdays and Thursdays was going to begin next week. They were smiling and happy and so was I. The ordinary. 'And every class I teach is a joy.

There was pure joy sitting with John at our favorite Mexican cantina recapping our tango lesson and reveling in our friendship - a very old and respectful and loving coupling that will endure for a lifetime. And I await with excitement the moment when I will talk to my grandsons tomorrow morning while they eat breakfast before their soccer games and then I will find find out after the games what transpired. I love Saturdays.

The ordinary brings us joy; the extraordinary brings surprises. And its the balance we strive for.

Namaste

Joan

Mother Nature - Alive and Well at Sixty-Six

Hi, Boomers,

I traveled to Las Vegas last weekend to make my monthly visit to my adult sons and my grandsons. I have made this trek for over three years, beginning with the birth of my first grandson, Jordan Mac, about 5 years ago and a particularly pointed call from my brother who urged me to share visits with my mother more frequently. I had been kind of hiding out, working my tail off for years in Los Angeles, and completely oblivious to sharing mother responsibilities with him. He gave me a needed wake up call.

Two years later, Luc Daniel was born; then a year later Greyson Ambrose was born; and recently Jude Love came into our lives. It's absolutely amazing to me how a mother's love can morph into a grandmother's love for her grandchildren. Being in love with family is beyond verbal description. I was waking up and doing the 1 am feedings with Jude and giving him his bottle and thinking nothing of the time or the effort it takes to nurture a baby, especially a baby that is so darn fun and happy. I wasn't even tired the next day. In fact, my mother's instinct so kicked in that I awoke about five to ten minutes before the baby did, anticipating his hunger.

The weekend brought a whole new set of needs for my growing grandsons. Jordan dresses himself now and Luc is learning the process. With Baby Jude on my hip, I went from room to room attending to clothes selection, to face washing to brushing of teeth to starting breakfast. All in a morning's work for a mother and I was ready set to take on the tasks.

I am astounded at the flood of love and emotion I experience with my grandsons. Who knew being a grandmother was going to be like that. Who knew the unending joys of taking care of young children. Soccer games, swimming classes, basketball practice, birthday parties - the whole wonder of kids.

If I ever thought I would loose my mother nature, I have been proved wrong time after time in the course of the last five years. I'm thrilled that at my age love is easy to provide and the care-taking is effortless for my family. It's so rewarding that later in life we are given so many surprises.

In yoga/meditation, we learn to take time out at least once a day to offer gratitude for our gifts and our joys. It's so easy for me to do that because I teach yoga many times a day and I have a built in gratitude machine within my open heart. But I never take my teaching or practice for granted because it feeds my soul.

Namaste

Joan

To Protect and Defend

Hi, Boomers,

I'm back editing my book for the last time. I had two weeks off from engaging with the material that I've worked on for almost two years. The publisher sent my book back after an editor fixed the grammar and syntax. But now I am line editing the book after all the technical stuff has been corrected.

Writing is a lonely occupation. There is so much quiet in my apartment and in my mind that it is almost frightening. I feel like I'm in a cell when I write. Not a jail cell but a monk's cell. Isolation is good and bad. Right about now, my tush hurts, but I had to blog for a few minutes just to get the book structure out of my mind.

But I am really kind of disturbed today. I'm disturbed about the Catholic Church. I'm disturbed about the pedophile scandal, about priests and brothers molesting young people, either very young boys or adolescents. I've known for years about priests and women; especially in Latin America where there many priests who serve in remote regions take wives and raise a family. It's only natural. But the idea of covering up abuse, of sticking to the old playbook about celibacy makes me angry and very sad. The other day I read an article about priests in the Ukraine who are allowed to marry and raise a family. No child abuse in that part of the world. The Greek Orthodox priests marry; the Episcopalians marry and the Lutherans and other Protestant congregations.

In 1960, my parents hosting the wedding reception of my brother and his wife at our home. I was standing near my father as I always did and listened to a conversation between my father and my godfather and another man. This is all very vivid to me. They were talking about how ridiculous it was for priest not to be married. Now, these were Irish Catholic men and the Irish kind of make up their own rules about religion but it was a very progressive conversation. I felt the same way and I was only sixteen years old.

So this sexual abuse has been going on for decades, maybe even centuries and it began to surface i the 1950's. It is a horrific circumstance and I feel dead inside my soul. I listened to "This American Life" this morning about a former priest (a brother) who was recruited by the church to cover up abuse cases. After four years of lying to parishioners, the young priest of thirty-three left the church and ended up working for a law firm that represented men who have been abused by priests. He knew the inside of cannon law better than anyone in the firm because he had to implement the church law over and over again. He still went to church, however, until after about the one thousandth case of abuse crossed his desk. He reasoned that the Catholic Church was immovable, absolutely resistant to change, and he could no longer attend mass with his family. His daughter no longer goes to Catholic school.

This is what is on my mind today because I was raised a Catholic and believed like others in the institution until I grew into adulthood and realized that the church's mission was to intimidate and to frighten and to do anything, even lie and cover up, to avoid facing the horrendous truth that there are pedophiles among the priestly flock and the seminaries are rampant with men who use the institution to hide their addiction from society. I'm ashamed.

And I'm 60 and do not think I will every get over this betrayal. I know the other side of this argument is not to condemn the entire church for the sins of some, but the other side to this argument is that the Catholic Church is there to protect its flock and they passed the buck, didn't do it and they should be jailed or at least fired. Shame on them.

As I say in my book, SIXTY. SEX & TANGO, there is no curriculum, syllabus, cheat sheet or playbook to live in our sixties. We are pretty much surprised by life's circumstances and we try to roll with the punches. Did anything ever turn out the way we expected it to? And what did we really expect from our lives? I'll take my corner of happiness and relish it, have gratitutde for my joy, and try to get a good night's sleep.

Namaste

Joan

Yoga And The Art of Body/Mind Maintenance

Hi, Boomers,

Every day I give gratitude for yoga, especially today when I gave my son on the morning of his 38th birthday a yoga class. This is the second time he asked me to give him a class since I have been spending the week with my family. Yesterday, my daughter in law also asked me for a class. They are both awesome yogis.

Years ago, when my life seemed to be in a downward tumble, my son and to-be daughter-in-law asked me one Sunday to go to their favorite yoga studio to practice with them. I was beside myself with glee. Because I was living in Venice at the time behind Muscle Beach, I had been practicing at my gym down at the Marina. It was a small class and not very inspiring but it was yoga nonetheless. But to practice with my family made me really happy.

Thus began a ritual of Sunday practices either at Maha Yoga in Brentwood (where I now live - really west LA next door to Westwood and UCLA campus) or in Venice at Yoga Works where our favorite yoga teacher gave a class that could kill a decathlon athlete. We would come out of the studio, sweating and exhilarated, and go to a favorite breakfast place on Main Street and talk about the what was on our minds at the time. It was a simple moment in our lives and we don't have that kind of simplicity much any more.

My second son and his wife are also yogis. Although they don't practice much anymore, their hearts are opened and they spread the positive joy. My intention is to give all of them together a yoga class in the not too distant future.

The lives of my adult children and their wives are so much more complicated and stressful at this moment than I could have possibly imagined. I thought I'd be sailing over smooth waters at 66, but I am still that parent that my sons rely on to give emotional and psychological support. I am hitched mentally to their well being and their happiness as they try to put one foot in front of another and live their lives to the best of their ability. Both the men and the women in my family are terrific parents, devoted, loving, embracing and understanding and I am extremely proud of them as divine beings and professionals.

But what yoga adds to their lives is extraordinary and they are well aware of yoga's benefits. The birthday boy just left the house this morning telling me how fantastic he feels, how clear and joyful is the beginning of his day. He went out the door playing "Tool" feeling positive and hopeful. The success of my family rests on his shoulders.

Yoga is a mind/body experience that is connected by breath. In Sanskrit, the word breath is prana or life force and it is considered sacred. Yoga is a practice that creates joy and a positive attitude; it centers the self by emptying the mind, for it is truly a meditation whether the yogi is moving or siting in silence. Yoga/meditation has an impact on the way we think (more positive) and the way we feel (more joyous). It gives the body more energy as it speaks to the spiritual center of our being. If this is the gift I can give to my children, I am content and fulfilled. Nothing else matters.

Namaste

(The divine in me recognized the divine in you)

Joan

Happy Birthday, Jonathan

The Single Life and Bali Here I Come

Hi, Boomers,

I was musing today about being single. After years of fighting the odds to mate with man, I have succumbed to the freedom, the joy, the bliss of being single. Don't get me wrong, I haven't given up sex. Being single and sex are not antithetical to one another. I love sex now as much as I loved it at 19 when some hunk took my virginity at UCLA on New Year's Eve. Funny, we never forget who took our virginity. Oh, well, sorry, "took" is not appropriate since I was the other half of the consenting situation. I can still remember that small, dark motel room in Manhattan Beach, past midnight, January 1st, with a little light coming through the faded white, shabby venetian blinds. His name was John and I was madly in lust. But I digress.

So being single is being able to come and go as I please without checking in with anyone. It's being able to be in Las Vegas with my family and not worrying about whether I have called my significant other today to let him know that I miss him and I promise to be home on Saturday afternoon. It's fully planning my day without questions, planning my trips without censure, planning my meals without a thought for anyone else. I can go to bed when I want and get up when I want and take my computer to bed and read at 3 am if I want and listen to the silence. I can get up to feed Baby Jude Love at 4 am and gaze into his little face with love.

I'm going to Bali in August with two single female friends. I am visiting my tango friend, Brenda, who, with her husband, built Desa Sanctuary in Ubud. Check out the website. It's so very beautiful and special.

The way this trip camd about was that Brenda emailed me on Linkedin to connect with me and to say she was reading my blog. Bali had been in my head for a long time and I felt I needed to get there before the Eat, Pray, Love movie came out this summer and the followers of Ms. Gilbert began to pay homage in Ubud to her personal journey. A few days before, my friend, Carol, a yoga student of mine at UCLA, was talking about going to Bali with her friend and I immediately invited myself. I showed Carol and Adrienne Desa Sanctuary and everyone was hooked. It took us 3 days to make the plane reservations and reserve a sanctuary for a week. Women are so smart and efficient with organizational execution because we know what we want and communicate efficiently. Bali, here we come.

Last year I went to southern Spain and Morocco with GAP Adventure Tours and I was the oldest of the seven women. It was a fabulous journey and one that I will remember always. The year before I went to Costa Rica for a yoga retreat and then an eco tour with my guide friend. Another great adventure. Being single allows me to plan my travels intuitively and take fully advantage of my curiosity. I used to think that I could never, ever travel without a man beside me. Life sure plays funny tricks on us.

So while I think that I may be falling in love as indicated in my last post, I am not rushing to fall in love. This is probably the first time I have been reserved in a relationship process. I have some things at stake this time around. I'm older and maybe a little wiser and maybe, just maybe, happier with who I am, my family relationships and my dearest friends.

Life is beginning to work out very well for a change.

Namaste

Joan