I know I spelled that incorrectly if I had intended merely to infer motion. But there is more to this movement than just motion. Not that motion is not enough of an end in itself.
As far as it goes, at this moment I’m listening to a playlist involving David Gray and Damien Rice and a bunch of other dudes who are just super sensitive about everything. The kind of guys that you totally cry on the shoulder of when everything goes awry with the super masculine asshole you’ve been involved with and maybe have sex with one night when you’re kinda drunk on merlot and vulnerable and totally regret it after because they keep writing these songs about the night they took the friend they secretly love to bed and you wish they’d stop because a man crying during sex when he’s overwhelmed with emotion is never a turn on. Though Damien Rice is Irish and that is a turn on. All music fits some mood, somewhere, sometime. That’s the best thing about it. Even this casual, facetious disdain I have for the music does not change the fact that there is nothing else that would fit the headspace I’m in right this second. 20 minutes from now I might be jumping around, accidentally kicking the cat while listening to a playlist of late 70’s New York Punk music..or hulahooping in the living room to swedish glam rock…No, that’s not likely tonight…but it’s possible. I like music for that. Ok, actually, it’s now 15 minutes later. I’ve come back from the kitchen with some oatstraw tea. As a result, I’ve now switched to Les Blerots de R.A.V.E.L. because I was in danger of sliding off the chair into a pile of melancholy under the desk…It’s difficult to type from that position. If you don’t know Les Blerots, they are a french band I came to be aware of a few years ago. The venue they play in the linked video is the same one I saw them in when I went to Paris the first time. It’s called Cabaret Sauvage and it’s set up like a huge circus tent, if a huge circus tent was made of red velvet and had tables around the outer circle and the center was one huge dancefloor of beautiful wood planks with little gold lights all over and it was filled with a crowd who was completely enthusiastic and knew all the words to all the songs and the show was just….yeah..anyway…the last time I went to Paris I actually tried to plan when I would be there to coincide with when Les Blerots were touring because I love them that much!
Ok, what? yes…ahem…movement! meant to move one outside a realm they had previously experienced. This is what I was referring to when I mentioned movemeant. Motion with a great deal of intention behind it. And so it happens that soon I will embark on a journey to a place I’ve never been, to try something I’ve never really tried, but wanted since I was about 6 years old. In the middle of February I will leave the frozen north for the moderate middle. I am meeting my sister in Costa Rica for 3 weeks of absolutely nothing but surfing and…no that’s it. Just surfing. I’m sure there will be naps in there somewhere..But since I was a wee thing, I’ve wanted to surf. And soon I shall, which is lovely, but this movement, while it has intention and a long awaited anticipation to it, is not what I originally referred to.
My sister has recently finished her anusara yoga teacher training. Which is awesome and amazing because it’s something she not only enjoys, but is good at. Plus she’s awesome with people(complete opposites, I know) and so it could only be supercool and fitting for her to be a yoga teacher. She has this lovely gift of listening and empathy and could only be beneficial to anyone’s practice..and why not check and see what it’s like being a yoga teacher in Costa Rica? Especially seeing that there are oodles of resorts there that specialize in that sort of thing. It’s kind of a big step for my sis. As long as I can remember, I’ve always been the flaky, let’s never make plans and see what kind of adventures we can fall into. Hence spending 5 broke ass months in Paris not able to get a job because of lack of language skills, work visa skills, skill skills…whereas when my sis wanted to see the world, she chose 5 places she most wanted to live and sent resumes about. Ended up living and working in Scotland for a couple of years, got to see Ireland, Italy, Paris on her birthday, all over the place, in style. This is just kinda how we roll. Differently. We’ve found those things that work and we work ’em.
But, as of late, my sis has been feelin a certain amount of job dissatisfaction with her regular steady scene. Part of that was the impetus for the teacher training. Another part is the potential for being able to have something that one can do everywhere. And darlings, yoga is everywhere. Not that hotels aren’t, but working a job that keeps you active and fit and moving and flowing and in direct contact with the people you’re helping? Rather than being on the other side of a telephone from an outrageously demanding and insufferable tourist who expects that they are worthy of deference and the drudge on the other side of the phone will acquire them whatever they desire because they’ve paid to stay somewhere since their own inlaws can’t handle hosting them while they’re in town? Whateva. Just because someone works in the service industry, doesn’t mean they should be treated like a servant, who should be beaten on a regular basis to ensure they remember their place. Oh yes, I am down with etiquette in a grandiose sort of way. And so we move on…
Now, I helped a little bit with the pushing for the training, because I know how much she gives of herself to people who have no appreciation (how sad that this is the case for many methinks) in her job. I wanted to see her do something that truly makes her happy. Part of the bargain, if you will, was that once the teacher training was finished, she would leave her fancy upscale hotel manager job and leap out into the void, encouraged and trusting that the universe would put her exactly where she needed to be. If that is a resort in Costa Rica, a spa type place in Bali, as part of a retreat in Istanbul, or moving further with study in India…it would certainly be a dramatic leaping off point of sorts. This is the first time since she’s been working, that I know of, that my sister will leave a job without having made provisions for the next engagement.
Whew. That is a very scary prospect for some. Not me, but I think we’ve already established that I’m a bit of an odd duck. So wow, the fact that my sister has the courage to do this? And is stepping up, eyes open to the edge, and diving headfirst? Oh yeah. Booked the tickets tonight. We’re off, as of mid february. I asked her if she wanted me to book a one way for her, just in case…but the return can always be changed. Indefinitely.
And for the curious, I’ve since switched over from drinking oatstraw tea and listening to Mando Diao to drinking ginger tea and Mogwai. I lurve Mogwai. And you. I think I shall wake up to Lemon jelly and some vanilla chai. Being a tea drinking music lover certainly has it’s perks…
OOh! And since I’m going on a trip..this blahg should get waaay more interesting. If I can manage to drag my (soon to be) tanned luscious ass away from the beach, that is…
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