Laziness & Motivation

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 want X, 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."

Notice that he doesn't raise his voice and he actually advocates for sleep.  As Bonnie Tsui reminds us, you are doing something important when you aren't doing anything.

And finally, you want to know the most efficient way to do something?  Ask someone who's "lazy."

Baby & An Unexpected Visitor

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!!!  :-)

Sleeeeeepy . . .

I posted some Sleepy Lady pix over on Healing Dogs With Love for my brother to go thru and pick his favourite. Here's a graphic I did for a card:

My Beautiful Little Lake

I was going thru some old posts and came across these lake photos.  Here we are, summer time again:

These turtles come up thru the woods to my yard and lay their eggs!

Blue heron:

These are from the back end of my property:

Down at the pier:

'member when Rowan & I used to walk Bingo down to the lake? 

SO CUTE!

Autumn:

Winter time:

From The Road Side of The Lake

Summer:

Misty morning:

Overflow with spider webs in the morning mist.

Autumn:

And then winter (no pix) and then:

Beginning of Spring.

And then Summer time once again:

Compassion

LOVE this interview!

NOTES:

Boundaries: What's OK and not OK.

"I'm compassionate because I don't subject myself to the abuse of other people."

B.I.G. What boundaries need to be in place in order for me to be in my integrity and be generous towards you?

"Continue to help with a loving, non-judgmental heart or we need to stop helping . . .Helping through hatred is not helping."

[If I believed that people were doing the best that they could] I would have to stop being angry, and start grieving . . . .

It's very hard to be compassionate towards people when they're hurting us.

Do you believe that people are doing the best they can?

I have no idea. But I do know that my life is better when I assume they are.  ~Brene`s husband, Steve

* * * * * * * 

I think of Don Miguel Ruiz's The 4 Agreements, in which he says, "Always do your best."  He goes on to point out that your "best" can change depending on fatigue or health or stress levels or situations. 

I think the world works better when we give others the benefit of the doubt and don't assume the worst in their intentions. Even if it turns out that they are ill-intentioned, as Brene`'s husband points out, it makes our lives better with a belief in others doing the best they can. 

New Fern Journal

This is a new Booksmith journal I created around the theme of ferns, and includes the first story of Fernie's World, a new series. It is also a Traveler's Notebook and comes with:

*4 inserts/notebooks: one lined, one drawing paper, one "eco-printed" green dyed paper, and a Junk Journal insert with a combination of lined, ink-stained, fern-imprinted, ledger and music paper. Paper is all 32 lb. paper and is fountain pen/rollerball friendly.

*The first chapter of Fernie's World is included as a booklet 

*An ephemera packet: cards, fabric, lace, washi tape, music paper

*Gold fountain pen, ink cartridges & ink blotter page

To construct the journal, I combined The Adventures in Booksmithing course along with The Hollow Back Binding course. To learn how to make your own Booksmith tomes and a whole lot more, here's a link to her FABULOUS online classes: Nik The Booksmith's Booksmithing courses.  Here's a link to her Nik The Booksmith YouTube channel for more tutorials and inspiration.

To learn how to make your own Traveler's Notebooks, here's a link to my Ledger & Lace Teachable classroom for a free course.

Here's a video flip-thru of the journal: 



Here's the story:

Here's Nik The Booksmith's Fern journal of AWESOMENESS:

FERNIE'S WORLD

Chapter 1

Fanny was unintentional in her pursuit of ferns. It was her nature--and curiosity of Nature, that led her into the woods with her father, a botanist, and her older brother, William. Her father was more intent on the measuring and preserving of botanical specimens with their proper Latin names, and William was more interested in the artistic rendering of the landscape. Initially it was to stay out of the way so that Papa wouldn't leave her behind with Nurse and her younger siblings. She was not to touch any of the plants with which he was working, and she was not to stand in William's view. 

On a hot, sunny day by Queen's Brook, as Papa collected and William sketched, Fanny grew weary from the heat. "Fanny," said Papa, "Fill the water flask for us, please," as he handed her his field flask. She followed the path down to the creek and filled it. At six years old, she was happy that she could be helpful in such serious, scientific endeavors, if only to bring water. She took a long drink, refilled the flask, and brought it back. "Here, Papa." 

Papa took a drink and handed it to William. She was delighted that they could forgo the social propriety of cups, and be "heathen Barbarians" as her mother called them when they were out in the Wilds of Nature. As Papa wiped his brow, he said, "What did you notice at the creek?" 

She knew he was asking a botanical question, but she was more impressed with the frogs that had jumped into the water with several "Plops!" at her approach.  "I saw several Amphibia of the Animalia kingdom," she answered. 

Papa laughed. He looked down affectionately at his daughter with her damp forehead and flushed cheeks.  "Perhaps you will find something of botanical interest in the shade by the brook," he suggested. 

As she settled on a large boulder with a mossy patch, she noticed that flowers weren't growing in this part of the landscape. In fact, it was cooler and darker and somehow greener. She brushed her hand through the lush moss and gently rested her cheek against it. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath of the earthy fragrance about her. No flowers here with their wafting, sweet scents. 

She opened her eyes and stared intently across the creek, waiting patiently for the frogs to reappear. As she did, she took notice of the ferns; how beautiful and abundant they were!  She felt a slight breeze and watched as it rustled through the ferns to make them sway and dance.  How delightful!  

"Papa!" She called out, forgetting to be quiet for the frogs. "What is the botanical name for ferns?"

Papa smiled and called back, "Pteridophyta!"  

She sat up and ran back to her father with gleaming eyes.  "I suppose," he said, smiling and reaching into his field satchel, "You will be in want of a proper sketchbook."   

And so it began.