Meditations from the Tube

I had an MRI of my back today. I'm in the process of ruling out all the things that could be causing a loss of feeling in my foot and lower leg; something that scares me a whole lot if I think about it too much. Considering the amount of energy I devoted to being anxious about the MRI, things actually went pretty well.

I liked that they had me fill out a sheet that included the question "do you suffer from claustrophobia?" I answered "no." Had they given me the same questionnaire after the MRI, I probably would have written "only when shoved headfirst into a tube slightly larger than my body and forced to hold still for 25 minutes while someone operates a jackhammer very nearby." I quickly decided to keep my eyes closed, because the ceiling of the tube? Pretty much touching the tip of my nose.

As I lay there, pondering the many horrible diseases I probably have, some of which have probably yet to be discovered by science, I decided that this could be a good time to put my nascent meditation and chanting practice to work. I figured the technician couldn't hear me over the jackhammering and the background music (I love that he immediately asked me if I wanted him to switch the radio station to NPR before we started. How did he know? Is it my glasses?). I think I chanted the om saha navavatu about 100 times, first out loud and then to myself. Whenever I started to freak out I would re-focus on my breath and pick up the chant from the beginning. I'm not going to say my time in the tube turned into a fun-filled experience or anything, but chanting certainly made those long 25 minutes more bearable.

ॐ स॒ह ना॑ववतु । स॒ह नौ॑ भुनक्तु ।
स॒ह वी॒र्यं॑ करवावहै ।
ते॒ज॒स्वि ना॒वधी॑तमस्तु॒ मा वि॑द्विषा॒वहै॑ ॥
ॐ शान्ति॒ः शान्ति॒ः शान्ति॑ः




More crafty stuff soon,
Very Sage

Seeking Order in Chaos, One Stitch at a Time

Hurricane Sandy hit my city, and boy, did she hit hard. The last week or so has been a blur. My fiance and I are keenly aware of our good fortune. We live in a pre-war battleship of an apartment building, and while the storm was terrifying, we did not take any damage. Several of our friends and coworkers have been displaced by flood, fire, falling cranes, and unsanitary conditions. Most of the people that I interact with on a daily basis are distracted and anxious, but trying to remain optimistic.

Daniell rocks a Black & White Jaunty Newsboy cap

In the face of this chaos and uncertainty, it was a relief to attend my yoga teacher training classes this past weekend. We were very conscious of the absence of two dear friends who remain isolated in a devastated area of the city. At the same time, we were touched by the outpouring of generosity from the members of our yogic community, so many of whom donated time, talents, and desperately needed supplies in an attempt to bring a modicum of sukha (ease) into the lives of others.

As part of my personal efforts to find a bit of internal order in chaos during a week without work, trains, or communication with the outside world, I (surprise) crocheted. It became something of a meditation -- I gave thanks with every stitch. I also gave thanks on Saturday morning, when a few new friends from yoga teacher training volunteered to model  for me in a quick hat photo shoot before class began for the day.

Rebecca's welcome post-storm smile

This was an especially exciting shoot because it was my first time working with a professional photographer! The impeccable Daniell Cohen is not only a talented photographer; she's fantastic on the other side of the camera as well. We had a great time: Daniell would deal with all the un-fun stuff that I don't really understand, like light levels, then pop a hat on and pose. All I had to do was push the button. Very easy.

When we were joined by some other yoga friends, I happily ceded full control of the camera and let Daniell do her thing, which involved a lot of laughing and smiling for everyone -- what a relief after the week we had all been through.

You can see more of Daniell's photography at http://daniell-cohen.com/.

Crocheting in Bars: In Defense of Mild Social Awkwardness

If you know me, chances are we've acted out this scene together:

The setting: a bar in Brooklyn or Manhattan
The cast: yours truly, and a few friends/acquaintances

Work Guy: Man, today sucked. I'm really glad we came out.
Me: Yeah, me to. I'm going to drown my sorrows in guacamole.
Work Guy: Give me the biggest beer you've got.
Work Friend: Hell yeah on that guacamole. 
Work Girl: God, XYZ is such a bitch.
Work Guy: Man, everyone we work with totally sucks.
Work Girl: Yeah, what a bunch of ass-holes.
Me: (removing hook and half-made hat from oversized purse) Mind if I crochet?
Work Friend: Cool, what are you working on?
Work Girl and Guy: ...

Fin

Here is why I crochet in bars. It's not that I'm not interested in conversing with you -- I am. It's not that I don't want to get to know you better -- I do, or else I would have gone home. It's not that I'm so anxious about social occasions that I have to keep my hands busy (although admittedly, that has something to do with it). It's this: I really like to crochet. In fact, I freaking love to crochet. I love that it makes me feel productive. I love that it allows me to create something tangible. It gives me a sense of satisfaction that I can't find in my work, because me work does not produce anything tangible, ever.

It's been interesting to discover that a lot of the people that I know professionally do not have any hobbies. Granted, being an attorney does not leave you with a lot of free time. I'm always really excited to learn about other people's unexpected non-work activities. Some people gently mock an older, somewhat awkward colleague for being involved in community theater. The other day, I found myself deep in conversation with this gent about the relative merits of Crazy For You versus My Fair Lady. And guess what? It was delightful. He morphed into a newly animated, considerably less awkward person. This guy probably would have understood why I crochet in bars. He sneaks off into vacant hallways to sing show tunes between trials.

Maybe I'll design a hat called the Eliza Doolittle. We can talk about it over a beer if you like. I'll multitask.

P.S. New inventory coming soon!