Yoga; war, then peace

I wrote 2 months ago about my first yoga class at the Hillside Library and of Liam's dream of going with me. I did complete the 6- session class and Liam is still dreaming of going. The class's ambiance is serene, spiritual, dark; focusing on breathing, stretching, releasing pain, relaxation. There are candles surrounding our gentle teacher who is at the center of the circle. I keep one eye open so I do not embarrass myself by pointing in the wrong direction. I attended all classes. The class sessions are 6 weeks and then one re-registers for the next class of 6 weeks. I had missed the first registration in June due to a conflicting appointment and sent a surrogate, my sister, to sign me up. One is permitted to sign up one person who cannot be present for the registration. My sister said it was quite chaotic, disorganized, dog eat dog (sorry Liam), and aggressive. There was no respect given to place in line or adherence to the sign in sheet. This group would become the class who met for six weeks in July and August to seek spiritual peace, freedom from pain, a higher level of understanding of self. However, at the registration they were a pushing shoving mob, angling for better position to get one of the 25 spots. The June registration was such a melee that new rules were invoked for this August registration as well as a new venue and new time-all to establish a smooth dignified calm sign-up, more in keeping with the principles of Yoga.
As our current Yoga session edged towards its conclusion the Events Coordinator would come into our class, (mercifully before we began our meditation,) and exhort us to follow the new procedures and adhere to the tenets of fair play. After each week's warning/announcement, a vague unease wafted about the darkened room; our tenuous unity and trust being threatened by a storm of insidious worries about the upcoming registration. My meditating mat mates knew we might be future adversaries for the next session's registration.
The time did come- Thursday, August 27, 2009 at 10:AM. Needless to say, I had some anxiety over this registration.

What if I arrived and a huge crowd was already there?

Liam understands, he thinks of how the line should look

He also knows how a few friends can become a pack and start wrestling

I decide to leave at 9:40 AM-this would get me there at 9:45 AM. No traffic when doing the hypotenuse through side streets.I arrive and see other cars pulling in. There is just a small group waiting outside. I estimate about 10 Good.

When I open my car door, several other car doors open. Oh I see. They are hiding in their cars waiting til it got close then all the "car hiders" will run to the entrance. Oh no, I am not getting lost in the car hider group. I jump out, walk fast, but with a nonchalant look (I think) and do not make eye contact with the other walkers as that might cause me to feel compelled to wait for one of them. Enough time for socializing once I get my place. I cross the street, the others are held back by a speeding car, which I outrace.

I now am at the entrance. It is 9:50 AM. The line is evolving into a circle of talking This could be trouble. Then I see her. The snorer is approaching to my right. This is the classmate who sleeps throughout the class and attains deep REM by the end. I am surprised she is upright, focused and yes, going right past me to the front. I know this trick. Pretend you see a close friend, stage a reunion and all will forget you crashed the line. I decide to let it go. I was # 10, now I am # 11. A woman next to me, (in a line there should be no next to me situation, ) is chatting about preserving her tomatoes for the winter to another lady who is inching up imperceptibly. Tomato lady notices me and says "Did you attend the last class?, I do not remember you"
Innocent remark. Probably. Nevertheless, I instantly feel that I must be so unnoticeable, so unworthy, an outsider, a small bug. I feel a small defensive anger welling. I discard the principles of Yoga and reply. "I did not notice you either." Ouch! Immediately felt small for my retort. However, another sly event is playing out; the snorer has become #3 by stealthily hugging and greeting all the front of the line people. Her tenacity is hard to ignore. She is aware and awake. I think of that movie "The Invasion of the Body Snatchers"-someone has taken over her body for the sign-up. The sleeper/snorer will return for the first class.. Is this the person who cannot stay awake in class? Perhaps it is a plot-Tomato lady and Snorer are working the line as a team.

The Yoga registrar then opens the Library door, which has been locked- registration forms are passed to those of us waiting. We are not yet allowed in, but we have the ticket in. Yay. She has enough for the 25 students. If I get one I am assured of a spot. I do. The crowd relaxes. We have a few extras for the late comers and they are awarded to them like runner up bronze medals from the elite gold medalists-those who arrived first.
The door is finally open and surprisingly the group moves slowly and efficiently without pushing. We have our forms, serving as our passes; we made it! All felt safe and could afford to play nice.

We move forward, one by one, to be sworn in. We have to show our driver's license, hand in our completed form. As the group finishes, the tension evaporates, the Yoga mat mates greet each other warmly. Hugs and smiles. People make eye contact again. Those who had run solo from their cars without a backward glance now walk in groups to their cars. Yoga principles prevail. We become the people we try to be in Yoga- free of anger pain fear, thinking restore, relax, renew.

Dog eat dog outside makes way to the playful dog bow position inside Namaste- I bow to your true self
Liam ponders these happenings as he wonders if he should apply for a doga class

After this tough day

Liam watches for Daddy help, my boney is lost They look for his toy Then the reward- the walk

Woof, Woof

Grace is Gone

I entered my nail salon for my weekly appointment went to secure my nail box, and was surprised to be greeted by a new face. "Hi, I am the new owner." Hi," I replied, "I'm Carol" showing her my box inscribed "Carol 0809," wanting to establish immediately that I am a regular as only regulars have their own nail boxes with supplies. I asked her name and she replied very warmly "Hannah"; taking both my hands as a welcome gesture. Where is Grace? Grace has owned the salon for almost 2 years. There have been four owners since I began coming here in 2001. I liked Grace, she cared, noticed, remembered, shared her life.
These relationships we have with folks in restaurants, shops, train commutes, Internet shopping are real and add to the feeling of connection in our lives. They neither are technically family nor even friends but nonetheless important. I felt a brush with loss as I was led to my chair. Hannah elected to do my pedicure herself. I know that an owner doing a client's pedicure is considered to be an honor in salon culture and I accepted it as such A little later she turned me over to Jenny, one of the regular staff and I whispered, "where is Grace?" She whispered back, I did not get it, but her expression made me think that Grace was sorry to leave but okay.

This week my book discussion was about our assigned book "Family Tree" by Barbara Delinsky. One of the central concepts in the book is the concept of family. The author defines a family as a unit that is linked by either genetics or love. A close and caring group of friends would be the family we choose. The ones that come with birth, marriage and DNA are the genetic families. I have another family definition: the network of folks who we get to know by frequenting the places in which they work; people that provide services for us, or people to whom we just say hello to as we go about our daily lives. People at the train station every morning Or the bus stop. Or folks we ride the train with everyday, These are families in a way also.

We have a Pizzeria in our neighborhood-La Vera -word has it that they have inherited the recipe for the famous Gloria pizza in Flushing, a meeting spot for high schoolers on their way home in the'60s. We felt cared for and confident of good service and friendly greetings whenever we went. One day there were new owners. No one was there from before. A little sadness and loss

Starbucks-the young woman who had my order every time, where has she gone?

Ann, at the French Wine Merchant-for years she helped me pick out wines and had new ones ready when I arrived. Then she was gone. Sometimes folks tell you they are moving on-often this is done with a whisper. Sometimes I ask. More often not.

The cart on Jamaica Avenue by work-the vendor had my tea ready as I was walking up the block. One day he had to leave.

At our health club the core group has been coming at the same time for years. Then one day a person does not come anymore- a sense of loss pervades

These are unique relationships.

Liam has his friends also. Where are Roxie, Rocky, Boomer, Meaghan?
At the dog Run there are regulars. You sit everyday with them and know about their families and their lives. Then one day, Meaghan does not come . Another Rocky does not, then Roxie
Liam remembers his buddies and misses them
Then one day we did not go back. Maybe someone is saying where are Carol and Liam? Are they are okay?
We are.
And sometimes people return. Today we saw Jake. He came running to us off leash in New Hyde Park on Leonard Blvd. Had not seen him since April 2008. So life and people move on. And sometimes we reconnect and other times it was just a connection for a period of time.

I ran into Ann from the French Wine Merchant in our local wine store a few years later- She remembered and suggested some wines. No mention of the time in between. Wistful for me.

So maybe we pass by these temporary "friends" later on in our lives, and reconnect, or we pass by and no longer remember each other, or vaguely do remember and say nothing.

Sometimes the retired person we see everyday drinking his coffee and reading the NY Times at the local bagel place in Kew Gardens is not there one day. He is really gone and not coming back.

That happened 91101. People were at the bus stop that day 91101 and then they were not 91201.

Another type of family. We miss them when they go.

Paul comforts Liam on the loss of his friends
and explains there will be new ones
and maybe future reunions

Woof, woof I see Murphy maybe, no it is a squirrel
nah not
arooooooooo give Licks when you can

Lioness and Tiger

"I did not putt well enough to win the championship." Those words from Tiger Woods Sunday night, August 16, 2009 after losing a third round lead to a South Korean player, Y.E. Yang.
Golf was at the fore this week. The PGA championship was being played at Hazeltine National Golf Club and Tiger was at the top. Tiger is known as a phenomenal putter. There is a putting percentage, like an ERA in baseball. Just found this out. Tiger 's was 1.759 from 2005-2008-putting (not putting) him 8th among the pros. He added a few points to his PP this Sunday.

The Hazeltine course is a beautiful one and was very welcoming to Tiger
Liam was woofy pleased to find out that this PGA course has some doglegs; thinking that if he cannot go to Citi Field he will be welcome at the golf course. I explained that the term refers to the direction of an individual golf hole. "Many holes are straightaway from the box to the green. A hole that bends is called a dogleg. Hole 2 at Hazeltine has a dogleg
If it turns left, it is called "dogleg left" from about .com and David Cannon /getty images
if it turns right, it is called "dogleg right." from Blackberry of Liam 81909

"I did everything I needed to do expect getting the ball in the hole."

Another championship had been played in New Hyde Park at the Spring Rock Golf Center on Friday, August 14, 2009.
A few days before Tiger lost the PGA, two other golfers teed off- Carol McNiff and Paul Nikol- see announcement
played at the Spring Rock Golf Center in New Hyde Park. There was choice of two courses, Romeo ( 21 holes) or Juliet (18 holes) Did I mention this was miniature golf? Yes, it was. I was playing with hubby Paul, undeniably a natural athlete, skilled at any sport he tries, needing no lessons, mentoring or coaching.
I knew that he felt this would be an easy win. However, I knew something else. I am a great putter and miniature golf is just a bunch of putts. Years ago I took real golf lessons. I had a perfect swing but never came near the ball. However, when the class putted, I made every one. The instructor sadly explained that I would never be a "golfer" as one has to get to the green in order to putt, since I would never hit the ball that would be impossible. I accepted his pronouncement.
I have been waiting for my chance to show my hidden talent against this formidable natural athlete.

We are given our clubs and balls-I picked a Kelly green ball, of course-already feeling the Irish karma. First hole I get par, so does Paul. I think this early display of skill on my part unnerved him as he promptly lost the pencil and declared that he would be unable to keep score. No problem. We will just remember how many strokes ahead I am.

The course is adorable. Waterfalls, cascading thunderous water all around, hills, twists, rocks roughs. I imagine I am at St. Andrew's. I make the putts easily. I get two holes in one. Then the unthinkable; two yellow buses pull up full to the brim with camp kids. However, we are almost on three so we will just keep moving and maintain our lead. Since I make every hole in par or under, they will not catch up. The course owner leaves his command post and walks to our hole. He laments their arrival and apologizes for our ruined peaceful pairing. Why is he so concerned? the kids cannot catch us. However, he knew something we did not. The day camp procedure for 60 kids is to divide them into groups of five or six, then start on any hole. After all, it is not a game it is fun. So now we have five kids on hole 4, six kids on 6, seven(including camp counselors on 12, and so on. We are surrounded and trapped. You get the picture. The entire course is populated at every hole by groups of campers and their caddie counselors wanting to be Tiger Woods. Paul seems to hope that the pressure of their loudness and lack of skill will affect me. The campers shoot the balls into the trees, they climb on the rocks, they go from hole 18 to hole 10, then run across our green to another while we are putting. I am focused and immune to such behavior- crucial skills management training kicks in. Paul commences play on each hole by announcing in a quite insincere voice. "Now Carol, don't let the pressure get to you. You have commanding lead, do not blow it." I am up by seven as we go to the 19 hole. I have a bit of a problem: I choose to swing to the right, a daring bold idea and my gamble does not pay off; my lead shrinks to 3. However, I see the campers ahead on hole 20 and even the adult counselors cannot get the ball to the hole. I watch surreptitiously-the green tilts right. Ha ha. Paul will fall for it. We go to the 20 hole; Paul is consistent. "Now Carol, you still are leading even though you lost two strokes, don't blow it." Oh yeah, we'll see. Paul swung and yes, his ball goes way to the right, tries again and again. again, again -he finished in 7 strokes. I am gleeful and a very proud Leo lioness. I let him finish out his embarrassing display. Even some of the young campers are riveted by his collapse and come by to watch. Paul's collapse rivals any one of Greg Norman's. I do the same hole in four putts and and gain back three strokes I finish the 21 holes in five under Paul's total. Since he has conveniently lost the scoring pencil and the scorecard we have no written documentation. We both know the truth as do 60 camp kids and their caddie counselors.

I believe my PP (putting percentage) is 1.0809, a tad above Tiger's pre PGA of 1.759. Remember low is better.

"I thought if I shot under par I would win the tournament." Which he would have except he shot over par. I just did not make the putts when I needed them." Who said that Paul or Tiger ?

Liam stayed back enjoying the dog days of summer in the cool of the grass happy to know that there are doglegs on a golf course. Dogs are always represented. Liam hopes and dreams that someday dogs can golf, til then

Woof woof