Comedian Hasan Minhaj answers questions with his parents. They are ADORABLE and there is so much LOVE and affection between them all. SO SWEET! What do parents want for their children? A better life. Also, free samples at Costco. :-)
I weeded out anything cute, intricate, or "Untitled." The "If only I'd thought of the right words...." is the give-away. There are certain phrases that always pop up in his songs again and again. (See what I did there, for all you fellow Curists out there? You're welcome). Since the bidding is up to 3900 pounds, I'm not the only Cure fan who has figured it out.
I wonder how many of these he did or if this was the first one? Someone might look at this and think he just said, "Mary, where's that spray paint?" and sprayed and dripped. "There, that's done."
Some works are like that. Others can be agonizing because they aren't matching the vision for what you want. "Noooo, the drip needs to go this way!" Does that sound too artsy and pretentious? I know my fellow Creatives are agreeing. "Oh, the agony of not getting it just right!" That's the Perfection Paralysis we can fall into. And here I thought I was just doing a quickity blog post . . . . :-)
Years ago, before my vow never to go to a gym again, I was interested in taking yoga classes at a local gym. I checked their website and they had a variety of classes scheduled throughout the week.
I went to take a tour. I opened the door and was met with pounding music and sweaty people on eliptical-treadmill-stairclimber contraption thingies.
I consoled myself with the knowledge that the classrooms were upstairs away from the noise.
The sales dude met me and asked me what my "fitness goals" were as we sat in his fluorescent-lit cubby. I told him I was only interested in yoga classes. He told me I would get 3 free sessions with a personal trainer. "I'm here to take yoga classes. I don't want to lift weights. I don't want to be on any machines. I just want to take classes."
After we established that I was there to take yoga classes, he took me for a tour. He pointed out all the machines that I would be ignoring on my way to classes as we made our way to our first stop of the tour: the Beefcake Vein-Popping Muscle Room of Sweaty Dudes. Ew.
Here's a lesson in sales: when someone says they wantX, don't give them the flippin' opposite.
This was before the whole Crossfit craze, because I'm sure they prolly have a Tractor Room or something by now.
The tour continued to the work-out machines, the locker room, the swimming pool. Finally! We head up the stairs . . . to a separate workout area with machines and weights for the ladies.
Please. At last we walk toward a classroom . . . aaaaaaand pass right on by to the tanning booths.
"Your first session is free and we sell packages." Now I think he's just messing with me. Is he looking at my pasty white skin and thinking, Forget yoga! This woman needs a tan.
Last stop of the tour: classrooms. That's all I wanted. But, upon reflection, more this:
And less this:
Because you know the entire year I was there, I wore ear plugs. Like a relationship where you let the one good thing outweigh all the 80% crap, I tried to make it work. But then I thought, Why? Nietzsche said that when you have a big enough why, you'll figure out how. I think this is a variation of that: When you stop to consider why and can't come up with a good enough reason, or the initial impetus no longer holds true, it's time to move on.
I know there are people who actually like gyms. They find it a place of motivation. They like some 'roid-popping drill sergeant barking at them.
Perhaps I exaggerate. Perhaps more like this:
Does it say, "WORK SMARTER" on the back of that sweaty shirt?
Part of the value of Know Thyself is knowing what works for you--and what doesn't. A gym doesn't make me want to move my body and be healthy. It makes me want to escape. There is a sensory overload of bright lights and loud noises and smells that is too much for me.
When I was growing up, my sibs were into sports. In addition to school sports, there was year-round karate. In warm weather, there were 10K races and in the winter, it was skiing. Mum would pass out money for lift tickets, and I would head to the lodge to sit by the fire and read. I did ski a couple times and I did okay, but why would I want to willingly get all cold and risk falling when F. Scott Fitzgerald awaited me with a hot cider?
What I did like to do was take hikes through the woods or go for walks down to the river. I took dance classes for years. Mum would say, "Well, you're not the most energetic person in the world," and that I was the "non-athletic" one in the family. What it took me years to realize was that I was non-athletic by her definition, and that hating team sports and noisy gyms didn't mean I was lazy. I also realized that she discounted anything that she herself wasn't good at. Ballet? Yoga? Pfft.
This all came to the forefront as I saw Evan Carmichael's recent video You Will NEVER BE LAZY AGAIN! I would hallucinate that this is what motivates Evan Carmichael and that there's some sort of association to being called lazy. There were comments from viewers like, "This is pure motivation." Really?
To paraphrase a famous Jerry McGuire line:
You exhaust me.
I don't see this as motivational, I see a bunch of dudes barking at their audiences. It's the macho attitude of "sleep when you're dead" as if it's the only way to have a growth mindset.
Growth and creation don't have to be so frenetic--or loud. Take a cue from Nature: A dandelion can grow thru a sidewalk. Things come in seasons. Even Nature rests with Winter. Take that, anti-sleepers!
Contrast this approach with Jim Kwik in a video with the same title of "You Will Never Be Lazy Again."
Yesterday I drove 2 hours with Baby and left her with Composer Brother. It was like Opposite Land. "Has she gained more weight since I saw her last? How much are you feeding her? Why isn't she walking on the leash? Have you trained her?" Hahahaha He suggested I was leaving her at "Beagle Bootcamp." Here she is being all cute:
I was vacuuming the sofa, so of course she jumped up and refused to budge.
In the office nestled up against Bingo:
In the Meditation Chair:
There is a No Furniture Policy at Composer Brother's, except for a special, designated sofa.
All this to say that, as I'm trying to get ready to take Baby on her journey, Buddy wouldn't come in for breakfast--which you know that means there's an animal, alive or dead, that he's going after. He was ROO-ROO-ing at a carpet hanging over the railing.
Please don't be a snake
Please don't be a snake
Please don't be a snake
I gingerly lifted the rug up to take a peek. In between the rungs, was a baby possum who had made a little leaf nest for himself and was all nestled in. Gah!!! SO CUTE!!! But I just couldn't deal with it. I got 99 problems and I can't add Possum Problems to The List before a 2-hour road trip! A quick search on the Google said possums are nocturnal blah blah most likely left his mama based on length of 7" blah blah etc. So I thought, "I will deal with you when I get home." Which I did. And I found a local wildlife rehab gal named Heather and got him into a pet carrier (Towel push into trash can with a scoot into the pet carrier of towels). They really do play dead! Got to Heather's last night around 8:30 and she just picked him up:
LOOKIT those feet! They have thumbs!!! SO CUTE!!!
Heather confirmed he's a he (no pouch in the tummy area) and she'll keep him about 3 days before she "soft releases" him in the wild, where she leaves a cage open for him to head into her woods. THANK YOU, Heather!!! :-)