B is for Bikram Yoga: My Trip Into the Bikram Chamber

They say pay back can be nasty. My day for pay back came yesterday in the form of my very first Bikram Yoga class.

If you have heard of Bikram Yoga you will know that the mere contemplation of it can induce terror. Bikram Yoga was created by Bikram Choudhury. His method is a set series of 26 postures each of which is performed twice together with two breathing exercises in a single 90 minute class. The class is undertaken in a room heated to a minimum of 40 degrees Celsius (105 degrees Farenheit) and about 40% humidity. The idea is that the heat keeps your body from overheating (ha!), works on your muscles to allow for deeper stretching, promotes detoxing, increases your heart rate for a better cardiovascular work out together with a myriad of other “benefits”.

I have dabbled in “dry-land” yoga classes on and off for a number of years. Whilst I have never been a huge fan of twisting my body into what for me are unnatural positions I can see the benefits on posture, balance and the spirit. My philosophy for the past three years has been I’ll give anything a go once as long as it is affordable, not immoral, illegal or offensive. So here I was going off to try what can only be described as EXTREME yoga as an EXTREME novice.

I was given a set of instructions beforehand to prepare for the class. You must drink at least 2 litres of water, stop the drinking at least 30 minutes before class and you must not eat anything at least 2 hours beforehand. The warning bells were already starting to ring right there. If you have ever drunk 2 litres of water in a short amount of time (cue anyone who has ever had an ultrasound) you will understand. Two hours of prep for a 90 minute class? Really, most people don’t even do that much prep for an exam!

Stomach laden with water, I stepped into the hot room. There were about 20 others in the class, with the experienced cool kids up the front. I was told to follow them. Being my first time, the instructor referred to me as her “new friend”. At this point, I was still breathing freely but I wasn’t regarding the instructor and the other members of the class as my “friends”.

Yoga requires things like balance, co-ordination and flexibility and I was in the wrong line when they handed out those attributes. Let’s just say I didn’t manage to make all 26 poses and leave it at that. Oh, and did I mention that the Bikram room had mirrors everywhere? There was no escaping towards the back of the class. Hello humiliation!

Much of the class was taken up watching and admiring the cool kids twist like pretzels whilst I was trying not to pass out or catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I tried to think of cool oceans, Antarctica and my legacy to my children. I zeroed in every time the instructor said “Our new friends can sit out and just watch this pose for the first time” in secret relief. I kept mentally asking “Are we there yet?”.

Now I know the real meaning of the term “sweating buckets”. I have never “sweated buckets” before. I have never drunk so much water or contorted so much before. Also, I have never pushed my boundaries so much before. I survived 90 minutes in the Bikram Chamber – that was the real challenge. Therefore I left the class with a sense of triumph together with my jelly legs, detoxed body and happier organs.

I am glad I gave it a shot. But I think one shot is all that I have in me. I admire anyone who can perform a graceful Garuasana or a pretty Padangustana. May you live a long and happy sweat filled life. However, it has never been a goal of mine to flex so much that I can put my feet behind my ears.

[Photo of the letter B from flikr – chrisinplymouth’s photstream]

A is for Australia: Think Aussie with these 5 Tourist Tips

April 1^st has finally rolled around bringing with it the start of the Blogging from A to Z April Challenge . Good luck to all the participants – whether you’re a first timer and new to blogging like me or a seasoned blogger and Challenge champion. And a big thank you to the A to Z Challenge gods for giving my blog a shout out in their weekly wrap up last night. It means much.

Living in this time zone, I guess I am one of the first cabs of the rank… so let the alphablogging games begin!

Australia is my homeland and I am an Aussie. Aussies tend to refer to Australia as the lucky country, with good reason. Leaving politics aside, Australia is truly blessed with natural beauty (and beauties), a terrific climate, unique killer wildlife (the beauties aren’t included in that statement) and wonderful freedoms. I am truly grateful to be living here.

According to the Australian Bureau of Statistics, there were just over 500,000 visitor arrivals to our fair shores in January 2012, the majority of which were from New Zealand (75,000), China (77,200) United Kingdom (57,000) and United States of America (38,000).

If you have ever travelled to a country for the first time, you know that there’s a fine line between fitting in and looking so much at home that you are asked for directions by other tourists! No tourist wants to stand out with a big “T” on their forehead. So here’s my 5 tips on how to do Australia like an Aussie:

1. Do your tanning on the beach – Australia is blessed with some of the most amazing beaches in the world. Crystal blue waters and soft white sand abound. If you are visiting a coastal city, do your tanning at the beach and not in a mid-city park. The only Aussies who wear a bikini in the park are those visiting a public swimming pool located there and those coming home after a big night on the town, having lost their clothes. Besides, you haven’t really experienced tanning until you have had sand in your cozzie (Aussie word for swimming costume) and crevices.

2. A temperature of less than fifteen degrees Celsius does not a summer day make – Australia is blessed with amazing weather. Summers are hot and winters are temperate. However, to most Aussies a temperature of fifteen degrees does not constitute a day worthy of shorts and a tank top. Appropriate dress for fifteen degrees is jeans, a jumper and a neck scarf!

3. Treat the possibility of a shark attack with the same caution as the possibility of a car accident – most Aussies are acutely aware that there are killer sharks swimming in our oceans. This does not stop us from enjoying the surf. News of death by shark attack is rare and reports of shark attacks seem to be greatly exaggerated by overseas media.

By contrast, treat the possibility of a crocodile attack seriously. For some reason, they particularly like the taste of European tourists.

4. Give everything a short, pithy nickname – Aussies tend to shorten the name of everything and everyone. Any word with more than three syllables is too much to say after a few drinks. For example, ” McDonalds” becomes “Maccas” (you’ll probably really need to know that one after a few drinks), Barbeque becomes “Barby”, “Kimberley” becomes “Kimbo” and “Politicians” become “a waste of space” er… I mean “Pollies”.

5. Savour all of our amazing food – Australians love to eat Aussie food. We love our pizza, yiros, pad thai, and donner kebab. Any dish which contains pineapple is considered Australian even if it originated from another country.

Now that you have had a taste of my homeland I hope you’ll come on down. Follow these tips and you’ll be tourist savvy in no time.

[photo of the letter A from flikr – Leo Reynolds]

Air Guitars and Wooden Spoon Microphones

Do you go through periods where you have a “Song of the Moment” or “SOM”? A SOM is a song that bears one or more of the following characteristics:

makes you smile and lifts you when you hear it
you have on endless repeat for a month
takes up permanent residence in your head
when you hear it randomly played on media it makes you turn up the volume
makes you feel you are caught up in a moment of serendipity
makes you pause when you hear it

I am having a SOM period at the moment. Every time I hear my SOM randomly played by others, I just feel lucky. So far, my SOM has turned up without me initiating it in my car, in my house, online and in my zumba class. The feel good gods are surely smiling down on me!

A SOM should come with a warning label – WARNING: this song can induce behavioural changes.

Behaviour Can Alter After Exposure

I have been in the car and my SOM is played on the radio. The worry of reaching my destination on time is immediately wiped. Having reached my destination half way through the SOM, I do not exit the vehicle, but rather wait until the SOM is over. The fact that I might be moving my lips and talking/singing to no one whilst tapping the steering wheel like a mad woman does not cross my mind.

My SOM is played on the radio in the kitchen whilst cooking the family meal. Being the clever multitasker that I am, I turn up the volume without missing a beat on the cooking front. The kitchen fades away and in its place a concert arena is formed. The tin of coffee becomes a drum, the lights above the stove become a spot light and my wooden spoon is transformed into a microphone. I also intermittently grab my air guitar when the riff allows. Bring on the adulation! As the SOM ends and I am transported back into my kitchen. I notice the flour on the radio volume control, the coffee tin slightly dented and an array of wooden spoons sitting on the bench. Out of the corner of my eye I see my sons rolling their eyeballs and shaking their heads whilst stalking out of the kitchen. “You sure you don’t want to hang around for the encore?” I yell. I have become a legend in my own meal time.

Ultimately, my SOMs become timeline entries in my music catalogue. At some point my SOM becomes the song of the previous moment and life moves on. I don’t always have a SOM, but when I do, it heightens my belief in random luck and whimsy. That can only be a good thing.

And my current SOM….

And yes, I was around when Toto released their original.

Have you ever had a SOM?

Alphabetiquette: Blogging from A to Z April Challenge

Having taken the First Step into the blogosphere last week, I decided to plunge right in and take part in the Blogging from A to Z April Challenge. Starting 1 April, bloggers who have signed up are challenged to write a blog a day for the month of April. Each day has a designated letter of the alphabet and the subject of the blog must start with the designated letter. Sundays, other than Sunday 1 April, are letter free and can be treated as blog free days.

At the time of writing there are almost 1200 blogs signed up for the challenge. It is going to be a huge blogfest and taking a peek at some of the blogs on the sign-up list, the quality is likely to be amazing. The other facet of this challenge is to visit each participating blog at least once during April. As was so eloquently pointed out today, this amounts to about 36 blogs a day.

After blog hopping in no particular order through the sign-up list to kick the tyres, I have come to the conclusion that this amount of blog travel requires structure and organisation. But how? Then it hit me right between the eyes in an obvious light bulb moment. I will begin with the blog titles starting with the letter “A” and work my way through to those starting with the letter “Z”, then move to any blog titles starting with a number and finally any that start with a symbol.

You can sign up to the Challenge at http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/p/2012-to-z-challenge-sign-up-list.html.

I would love to hear from any novice bloggers (like me) taking part in the challenge. It would be a great opportunity to get to know each other, practice some alphabetiquette and drop a like or a comment or two. Here’s to a month of blogging from A for Anticipation to Z for ZZZZZZZ… sleep at last!

Does Your Kitchen Suck?

Actually, my kitchen doesn’t suck all that much except for that long agonising pause between the menfolk creating culinary magic and cleaning up the utensil carnage that follows. Its the time when our family kitchen becomes the dreaded black hole, sucking up all the household manpower to return it to it’s natural state.

“My Kitchen Sucks” is the name given by my early teen son to a current television show airing here called “My Kitchen Rules” or “MKR” for short. MKR is ostensibly a cooking show in which teams of two fight it out in various tests and challenges to display their culinary skills. Every so often two teams have to take part in a sudden death cook-off in which one of the teams is eliminated. At those times, the show gets very intense, even more intense than some of the dishes that are created. MKR has been airing four nights a week for the past month or so and its ratings are soaring.

For all sort of reasons, MKR is riveting. The factors pulling me in to watch it night after night are, in order:

the mix of personalities appearing on the show
the incredibly hot French accent of Manu Fieldel, a French chef and judge on the show
the interaction of the said personalities both within teams and between teams
Manu’s French accent
the tactics and brown-nosing to which some contestants resort to stay in the game
then there is of course, Manu’s French accent
the food
did I mention Manu’s French accent?

In short, the show is a fascinating study in human and not so human behaviour. I generally don’t watch much television, so the fact that I religiously make an effort to watch MKR four times a week is eye opening!

Our family has taken to watching the show together, because it airs in prime time. When I say watching the show, I mean that all family members are in the one room and look to be facing the operating television set. I am assured by the teenage members of my household that having a computer screen and a keyboard between them and the television screen only enhances their concentration and enjoyment of watching the show.

My Kitchen Rules (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In the minutes before the show commences, the family gathers and assumes their positions. Its at this time the teenagers start their cacophony of complaints which I am tempted to set to music – it’s just so lyrical. “Are you really going to watch My Kitchen Sucks, again?”, “You don’t understand, NO-ONE at school watches it” and the ever present “Can’t we watch something else?” To which I dutifully respond “ Yes”, ”hmmm” and “no”.

Recently, I unexpectedly had to spend a night away from home. I thought this would provide much needed relief to my long suffering teens by presenting the opportunity for an MKR-free zone. The circumstances were such that I could still watch the show that night and as I did I wondered what the teens would be instead watching during their emancipation. The show ended at 8.30pm. By 8.35pm, I had a text from my eldest teen “Mum, T and C got eliminated from MKR…. did you watch it?” The irony in those few words and the timing were delicious.

And my take away (no pun intended) from this incident? First, opportunities for bonding arise in the most unexpected and sweetest of ways and second, I never met a French accent I didn’t like.

Bon Apettit dear readers!

Life Crisis… What Life Crisis?

Umair Hardie, in his blog, The Economic Roots of Your Life Crisis – (see link below) talks about a life crisis. It’s a great blog piece for a whole lot of reasons. Firstly, given the subject matter, the fact that it’s written by a bloke is amazing. Secondly, the admission that “he thought he was the only one lucky enough to be having a life crisis” and that there is currently a life crisis epidemic is refreshing and thirdly, his definition of a life crisis as “a crisis of human potential foregone” … occurring when “you know you are not living up to your potential, but it’s frustratingly difficult to see what, if anything can be done about it” is highly relevant. Finally, his thesis that it is the breakdown of institutions that is partially responsible for said life crisis is interesting.

I notice that he doesn’t mention that words “mid-life” anywhere, so I assume that Mr Hardie is in a life stage that is something other (and possibly younger) than mid-life. It is actually quite heartening to realise that all sorts of people, including those of the calibre of Mr Hardie experience one (or several) life crisis. Mr Hardie’s social research which shows his friends also in the throes of a life crisis correlates with my own social research. I have been having this sort of discussion with my social circle for a while and it is amazing to discover just how many are striving to tap back into their dreams.

So why don’t people talk about this stuff? Why isn’t it manly, dignified or barely mentionable in polite conversation? Why is it so hard to admit that we have settled and conformed and that we aren’t comfortable in doing it? Rather than a sign of weakness, these feelings of malcontent and vulnerability are great change agents. Look at how many people have gone on to bigger and better things after a life crisis? No doubt the process is unsettling, especially if you are like me, you like to have and maintain all your ducks in a row. But, the prize at the end… the life you were destined to live whether brought about by a better job, starting your own business, a better relationship or whatever ….is so worthwhile.

The life crisis phenomenon is no longer confined to mid-life. Younger people are constantly questioning relevance and purpose and will more likely have no less than three career changes in their lifetimes. And so they should, so we all should. A fulfilling life has purpose, it needs to be meaningful and engaging. Thankfully, the stereotype that only middle-aged men going through the bikes and babes stage or only middle-aged plastic surgery addicted women go through life crisis seems to be changing. Take as an example the expression “quarter life crisis” recently being introduced into our vocabularies.

There are times in life when one doesn’t have all the answers… and that’s ok. Why do we always think that everyone else has all the answers relevant to reaching their own potential? Why do we think that no-one else has to settle? Thanks to Mr Hardie and HBR for being a part of this much needed dialogue. There is certainly no shame in any of this.

Getting back to the ducks….one thing I have recently learned is that ducks are live animals with a mind of their own and can easily wander out of their row positions. As you chase that stray duck to get her back in the row, remember that the possibility that the chase can open up a new path is very real indeed.

The Economic Roots of Your Life Crisis (blogs.hbr.org)

The First Step

They say every journey of a thousand miles begins with one small step. This post represents the first step of my bloggosphere journey. Like most novice bloggers, I start this journey with a whole lot of enthusiasm, wonder and excitement together with a squeeze of trepidation and many questions. I am hoping that in a couple of years, I’ll look back at this post and see how far into the bloggosphere I have travelled, laugh at what I didn’t know and like a proud parent savour what I have grown and nurtured.

Why this blog? I enjoy the written word and entertaining people. If I can raise an “ah-ha”, a laugh or a smile out of just one person, then it’s a good day. I also love community. Ironically, my love for the written word came long after I left school – my English teachers will attest to that. I remember not so fondly my high school years in English class wondering why the English department had nothing better to do than butcher some great novels. Take Thomas Hardy’s novel, Tess of the D’Urbervilles – a fabulous girl meets boy story. At one point (actually several points, but let’s not go there), Angel leaves Tess and Tess is blue. What an amazing literary coincidence that at the time of Tess’ “blueness” the weather is dank, wet, cold and depressing to match her mood. And just my luck I had to write a thousand words about this very imagery. Why couldn’t Tess just turn up the stereo, listen to her favourite break up songs, eat a tonne of ice-cream, cry her little eyes out and funk out without the appropriate scenery like everyone else? It would have saved me an excruciating thousand words!

Roll the film forward and I am grateful that the love of the written word found its way to my life. This is a very good thing given I have spent most of the last quarter of a century working in a profession where every word counts and a stray “and” or “or” can change the meaning of a document or the course of a transaction (not to mention cost someone a whole lot of mullah). However, business writing is not creative writing and my creative muscle is begging for a regular work out. So the blogosphere it is.

I have called my blog “Raising the Curtain” because through it I hope to find a way to effectively prepare for life’s second act. What happens when you get to the crossroads and find out that the road map which you have been using no longer applies or that life has stopped providing the signage you need to finish your journey? How do you survive middle age and come out bigger and better than before? I don’t have the answers….. yet, but I am hoping to go at least some of the way to finding them through writing, sharing common experiences and humour. I am not a change your life guru or a dream merchant… but what I do know is that a journey shared is more fun than a solo journey and I love learning new things.

So, let’s raise the curtain to the second act. Currently at the crossroads I can see a “Stop” and a “Give Way” sign and a sign that says “U-turn”. None of these seem right. There is a whole lot of fantastic living still to be done and most likely a “Dip” or a “Hump” on the way. I love to hear your points of view, so let’s make this a two way conversation.