Your Squash is Showing

On the last morning of this very hard but responsible and adult year, I took a yoga class. In the opening stretches, when we lifted the arms to make room for the digestive organs, I thought of last night's squash soup. It was so good and naturally sweet.

Then I thought about squash in general. What a weird plant. Who was the first person to see these things and think, "Friend not enemy. I'm going to eat this." What a funny thing to say too. "Squash, squash, squash." It doesn't exactly roll off the tongue. In further reading, I discovered the squash is a vegetable in cooking but a fruit in classification--the food is a seed receptacle much like a melon or tomato.

Last night, I cut up my first butternut squash, a milk-colored food that resembles a 1960s craft project or an ancient fertility symbol. I had no idea how to cut my two bottom-heavy fruits. Quick research suggested I cut the upper half from the top, rather like the "cutting the lady in half" trick. That made the squash more manageable for lengthwise cuts and skin peeling, but I'm open to suggestions.

For a little squash comedy, check out the Muppets and Carl the Squash smasher.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_k-qhPkkwY&feature=related

Naked College Eating

A month ago, I made the best meal I've ever made, Jamie Oliver's chicken tikka masala. Having watched him on the Martha Stewart Show, I was pretty sure I could do it, and I took extra care at the super market, looking for items I'd never used: coconut milk and curry paste.The first bite was a joy. As my boyfriend said, "This is alive with flavor."

For Christmas, he gave me Jamie Oliver at Home: Cook Your Way to the Good Life. The f irst recipe we tried, "Crispy and sticky chicken thighs with squashed new potatoes and tomatoes" (p. 189), was pretty and fragrant but a little sparse with recipe detail. My boyfriend and I could not figure out why he wanted us to use boned chicken thighs if we had to cut them into three pieces. It just seemed a time-consuming task that left us vulnerable to bone fragnments. The cherry tomatoes, however, added a wonderful pop of flavor.

The next, "Smoked beets with grilled steak and a cottage cheese dressing" (p. 109), worked better, although the beets would have been better on the grill (as Jamie suggested) instead of in the oven. The cottage cheese dressing was really zingy, although I overcooked the steak.

Yesterday, I made some lovely baked potatoes (p. 280), but tonight I made "Superb squash soup with the best Parmesan croutons" (p. 361). I can't believe how delicious the soup was, how naturally sweet and how satisfying with the croutons. I'm also pleased to have attacked my first butternut squash, two to be exact. I debated buying pre-cut squash but decided to "give it a go," as Jamie says. I roasted the seeds as topping to next week's salads. I froze the remaining soup and decided on a New Year's goal.

For three weeks in January -- starting January 4 -- I will give up restaurants in favor of my own cooking or my own food preparation: salads, sandwiches, and leftovers. During these three weeks, I aim to cook a total of six Jamie Oliver recipes, working with at least one new vegetable, like fennel. My reward for completing this challenge is to pay for a legit-Chinatown massage from my favorite massage guy, John A., on Mott Street.

My happy endings come from healthy eating, not to mention my intensive winter session course in human sexuality. While I satiate myself with home cooking -- preparing sensual squash and the like -- I will go to class every day, earning three credits toward my Health Education Masters Degree. Suck on that.

Adeste Felis Catus

In a little over a year, I have adopted a cat, got a boyfriend, entered grad school, got another cat, climbed three mountains, and watched my boyfriend get a cat.  

Despite the Recession, I see progress in a prolonged version of the nativity as told by a cat. Instead of myrrh, Leah gave me five mice this year. Instead of gold, Malcolm brings me tin foil balls. Jesus never had it so good.

By becoming a fan of the cat, also known as Felis catus, I’ve entered the 9,500 year-old tradition of humans befriending cats. It’s no wonder these vermin eating felines, faster than thoughts, are currently the world’s most popular pet. They’re cheerful companions, clear individuals.

Before Malcolm and Leah, I’d had limited experience with cats, scared to be an instant cat mom when I was: 1) a single person, 2) a harried New Yorker, and 3) a self-proclaimed "dog person." To my surprise, the cats needed no toilet training. As instructed, I dabbed their feet in the litter,and off they went. There was no potty training drama, no Freudian repression. The cats just did their business, rolled it in litter, and usually buried it. Quickly, they became my clever children. 

First came Leah, a feminine black cat. Named after Corlear Avenue--her place of rescue--she was in heat when my boss picked her off the street. Now spayed, inoculated, and micro-chipped, she has a cute habit of sitting on the toilet seat. Every morning, she sits on her toilet throne, watches me get ready, and makes agreeable noises. What a wonderful way to start my day. 

Malcolm, a little black kitten, moved in July 4 week. He came to me with all of his necessary shots and surgeries. In other words, he’d lost his balls before he cared. With or without testicles, Malcolm is very much a boy.  

On his first night, he happily rolled on his back displaying his crotch. Then he slept on my pillow, inches from my face. Before Leah trained him, Malcolm pooped on top of the litter. Now he buries his poop, purring instead of reading Sports Illustrated. He leaves the box with a skip and scuttle of litter. 

Every morning is theater: Malcolm dropping toys on my leg and Leah examining the items on my night stand--eye glasses and a very exciting pencil. 

People ask how I tell two black cats apart. It’s in the color and shape of their eyes. Mostly, it’s in the way they move: Each has a different agenda. Malcolm chases cat nip toys while Leah rubs the same toys on her face. 

A week ago, my boyfriend adopted Maxwell House, thus named because his roommate found him outside, huddled in a coffee tin. A week later, this tuxedo kitten has all of his shots, a spot on the couch, and a giant companion in my boyfriend James, a self-proclaimed "dog person." Jesus never had it so good.

Malcolm and Leah love the water sound while Maxwell House plays in James' shower.

I have a totally gross disease

For a health counseling project, I have been documenting my lifelong relationship with nail biting (NB), also known as onychophagia. Now, I am giving myself an intervention, horrified at my inner monologues.

They run something like this: "I'm not hurting anyone," "It's just something I do," and "I can quit any time I want, like for weddings and fancy events."

Not only am I a junkie, my preferred drug -- fingernails -- is grosser and less hip than glue or crystal meth, Andre Agassi's drug of choice.

In short (no pun intended), I am completely alone in conquering my body-focused repetive behavior. NB is completely unsupported by the media; there are no subway ads presenting the multi-cultural faces of onychophagia; and there are no celebrity NB golf events. My disease has no Mary Tyler Moore, awareness week, support group, or After School Special.

No one else gives a flying crap that my saliva probably contains dangerous levels of enterbacteria. No one else gives crap that NB is underresearched and more likely to reflect childhood NB rather than adult NB. No one cares because all the time and attention goes to swine flu vacccines and fat people. Trust me, I'm more dangerous.

In one study, researchers at Atatürk University in Turkey (Turkey, mind you) collected saliva from 25 nail-biting children and 34 non-nail-biters. E. coli, Enterobacter aerogenes, Enterobacter cloacae and Enterobacter gergoviae were found in 76% of the nail biters versus 26.5% of the non-nail biters. Gross.

Finally, my innocent little habit is in the same family as skin biting and hair pulling, also known as trichotillomania. In rare cases of trichotillomania, people die from eating their own hair, also known as Rapunzel Syndrome.

Thus my reasons for intervention. Although my cause has no ribbon or Oprah show, I alone try one of nail biting's most successful cures: habit reversal training. Instead of biting my nails, I will drink a glass of water.

Put that in your mouth and chew it.

Trails That Burn and Strangers Who Give Coffee

Hours ago, I finished my Appalachian Mountain Club hike on the New York section of the AT. Already, I feel satisfaction and soreness, a result from going over the river, through the woods, through a swamp, and up the mountain to Bear Rock.

Along the way, we met a Boy Scout group, a mountain runner, and a young couple cooking hot dogs by the Telephone Pioneer Shelter. Most of the leaves had fallen, and the AT, which goes from Maine to Georgia, revealed varigated shades of dull orange. We ate lunch on Bear Rock, experiencing the concrete satisfaction of climbing a mountain and looking down into the quiet world below. I experienced the same satisfaction on the way down, when we looked back at the place we had been. 

We finished the hike early, around 2 p.m., which gave us a half hour to look through the Native Landscape Garden Center, owned by Peter Muroski, an animal lover, meteorologist, and expert story teller. Our leader suggested that Pete sell coffee to hikers.

"We'd kill for a cup of coffee," my friend said.

"Would you like some coffee?" Pete asked. My friend, our guide, and I said, "Sure."

Pete led us to his office inhabited by two caged birds, a free-range parrot, and a 13-year-old cat. A native of Brooklyn, he said that people are nicer out of the city and that he's grateful to do what he loves. As proof, he showed his wall of photos, which included his wife on their first date, him with a giant fish, two deer mating, and a bearded man finishing the trail, his arms lifted in victory. Our guide and my friend suggested he write a book, not about hiking the trail but the strangers who wander off it.

Pete brightened at the idea. He said he lets hikers use the bathroom and camp on the wood chips outside his business. In addition, he provides temporary work for hikers wanting to finish the trail. As a result, he's met many people. One experienced hiker let a giant bear get too close while he made oatmeal. The hiker stood up to his full height and said, "You're not getting my oatmeal." The bear turned down the mountain.

Other hikers needed emergency care, the result of hypothermia.

"I've met a lot of people," he said.

From our lunch spot on Bear Rock.

Yoga Sutra 1:4

Vrtti sarupyam itaratra translates into: "At other times [the Self appears to] assume the forms of the mental modifications."


In other words, the individual identifies himself with shifting thoughts and temporary conditions--young, poor, or cold. Rather than seeing himself as the pure "I," he is seeing himself as someone who is late to dinner, successful in business, etc. He is not seeing his spirit or self.

In this weekend's restorative teacher training, Jillian Pranksy talked about the short, flickering nature of thoughts. If we attach to each popup menu thought, our nervous systems become overcharged with irrational thought, sending us into the sympathetic nervous system. Overtime, our organs, tissues, and systems show the damage of our fight-or-flight thoughts and resulting hormone shifts.

Again, 1.4 highlights the importance for taking a breath, meditating, and pausing in our parasympathetic nervous system.

Win by Doing Nothing

Action happened while doing nothing this weekend at Yoga Works Restorative Teacher Training with Jillian Pransky.

During class introductions, I mentioned that I am a go-go-go person newly aware of stress in my thoughts and body, particularly when I take restorative yoga. I mentioned that with nothing to do, my brain goes into overdrive. I watch my brain trying to make me move. It takes at least 10 minutes, the average length of each pose, for me to believe that the ground will support me. It takes at least 10 minutes for my muscles to finally ungrip. She asked if I was attending the next weekend: Part II of the workshop.

"I can't afford it," I said.

Jillian said that most New Yorkers are in fight or flight overdrive, which gives us that addictive and pleasurable kick of adrenoline. During each of these interludes, we either run from or run into a situation without much thought. Meanwhile, our non-essential systems -- like reproduction and immunity -- shut down, so that we can use all of our energy to respond to one problem. At first, the rush of chemicals gives us clarity. Overtime, our sympathetic nervous system is overstimulated. The result is muscle fatigue, injury, or disease.

The goal of restorative yoga is to tap into the parasympathetic nervous system more often to create a blueprint of stress-free clarity. The more times we practice relaxation, the more times we think clearly in our waking, breathing, working lives.
During one of the poses, she asked us to mentally untie our legs from our body. Immediately, I felt a sense of release. It was more pleasurable and deep than most high lunges. When I shared my experience with her, she mentioned that New Yorkers don't trust good things, especially when they're free.

As a personal illustration, a fellow student came up to me during the break and asked if I wanted to take her spot for next weekend's teacher training. She said she had a wedding and could only attend one day. "Can you take my place and take notes for me?" she asked. My first reaction was, "That's okay" because I'm trained not to trust good things.

My spoken reaction was, "Is it okay with the front desk?" Then it was, "Wow, what a gift. Thank you so much."

bikram yoga: good or bad?

bikram yoga: good or bad?
Anastasia has found my latest favorite topic. I've been thinking about Bikram a lot lately because there is a new studio in my neighborhood. Also, my girlfriend tried the 30-day challenge during her 40th birthday month. She called me three or four times during the month to complain about the cultic attidude teachers had regarding the "Master."

"Why wouldn't she let me modify the pose?" she asked. "Why did she have to embarrass me in front of the whole class?"

My friend was so upset that she almost stayed after class to talk with the teacher.

My response was, "Why bother? She won't get it."

This is my biggest beef with Bikram: it is done the same way all the time for every person with no props, excuses, or permission to leave the room. Therefore, the practice is not present. When they yell contradictory things like, "Look at yourself in the mirror and meditate," I think, "I'm PMSing, and I'm half naked. I don't want to look at myself in the mirror." Hardly a meditational way to honor the present.

Unfortunately, Bikram is a trademarked set of poses that are cued the same way all the time as in, "Let your hip open like a flower opening." No teacher sounds natural saying stupid stuff like that, particularly at their rapid fire cueing pase.

I love the heat, but I disagree with the order of moves and the severity of the angles. From the beginning, practitioners do this horrible breathing exercise that throws the head back in a whiplash position. It hurts, but instructors encourage you to keep going. Some even block the doors to keep you from leaving. In the standing side and back bends, you are encouraged to "look back, way back. Go beyond your flexibility." In baby cobra, the chin lifts to such an an angle that people's eyes bulge from their heads.

The last class I took was truly the last Bikram class I'll take. The teacher asked that I keep pulling my leg over my head in shiva. "See your foot in the mirror above your head." I did the first time, but during the repeat, I felt overstreched. I held back. The teacher wouldn't leave me alone because my listening to my body represented laziness instead of mindfulness. I tried to send her a message by staying in the lesser version; she kept yelling at me in the microphone. How dare she push someone she doesn't know and make it seem like she knows better. Yoga is meant to cultivate autonomy not slavish following to the Master.

Finally, if you want to kick my butt, add more warriors. In the Bikram series, there are only a few sets. In my mind, this is a missed opportunity for safely challening balance. Instead, teachers use toe stands and uttitha hasta padangusthasana for balance. These poses are among the opening moves.

Halfway into my last class, I thought, "This is stupid." I rolled up my drenched mat and left. I told the receptionist I had the runs because no one ever messes with that.

Climbing Bear and Bull (Mountains)

In my Fantasy lululemon post, I mentioned one of my year's health goals: climb four local moutains. Since last weekend, I've climbed three.

Last week, I climbed Mount Taurus. Yesterday, I climbed West Mountain and Timpe-Torne, both with the Appalacian Mountain Club. This incredibly annoying woman was on both trips. Unkindly, I called her the Public Urinator because, instead of going behind a tree or rock to indicate privacy, this woman peed right by the trail. Of course, I couldn't not watch. Squatting by the path, she applied Carmax to her chapped mouth. Then she chugged water as a complete illustration to taking in what you give out.

Being a solo kind of girl, I considered the group dynamic model and tried to apply it to the menagerie of mental uniqueness. (On last week's trip, one of the hikers just decided to run down the mountain, poles and all. We never saw him again.)

Here is the model, best illustrated by the movie Breakfast Club:

• Phase 1: Do I really want to go in there?
• Phase 2: Don't slip. Get out of my way
• Phase 3: It's not so bad in here. You're okay too.
• Phase 4: I can still be me and still belong
• Phase 5: Am I ready to leave? Do I really care?

I'm not quite sure how he model applies to my experience. I'll blog about it when I get the idea.

I do want to mention my favorite part of both hikes. Yesterday, we finished the hike by going through Doodletown, an abandoned village now marked by crumbling garages and overgrown gardens. I thought it was a powerful testament to how humans live and build societies that may ultimately crumble.

Here is a photo of a Doodledown farm house. All that reman are the steps front steps:

Yoga Sutra 1.3: The Seer Abides in His own nature

Patanjali's third sutra says that we are not the mind and body. Instead, we are Seers, watching our mind/body functions while remaining unattached.

To clarify further, Sri Swami Satchidananda says our mind jumps from thought to thought, as in, "I am dirty" or "I am beautiful." He describes these busy thoughts as ripples on a lake. They distort our internal views. Using the reflection analogy, Satchidananda says that when we see our physical bodies in the mirror, we are not truly seeing ourselves. Instead, we are seeing glass which produces copies of ourselves.

"The Seer can never misunderstand nor forget Itself," Satchidananda writes. "But we are talking on the level of the reflection. The reflection is distorted, so the Seer appears to be distorted. The true you is always the same, but you appear to be distorted or mixed up with the mind."

On another note, I learned a small detail about myself that has changed my practice. With all of my dance and Pilates training, I thought that shoulders always go down toward the hips to maintain stability. I thought stability to be superior to flexibility, so much so that I wouldn't let any different ideas into my practice. When a teacher assisted me this summer, pushing my ribs up toward my shoulders and my shoulders toward my ears, I did what she asked but dismissed her advice. My shoulders felt uncomfortable in uttita hastasana, only because I had never practiced that way.

Then we moved into handstands and back bends; it dawned on me that shoulders need to be stable and flexible. When I was upside down, the teacher came around again and said, "Move your shoulders to the floor and your feet toward the ceiling." I did, and I had my first comfortable handstand. The back bend that followed was so much more spacious.

The teacher's name is Jenny Arthur. Thank you, Jenny!

Yoga Sutra 1.2: Patanjali's Tweet

My morning reading and meditation included Yoga Sutra #2: Yogas citta vritti nirodhah, which translates into "the restraint of the modifications of the mind-stuff is Yoga."

In other words, our minds are noting and evaluating change like a Facebook newsreel. On top of that, our minds chatter about the chatter. The word chatter is appropriate because it sounds like and has a similar meaning to the Sanscrit word citta, pronounced "chEE tah." Citta means "mind stuff," residue from too much busy thinking and doing.

We practice yoga when we control the speed, volume, and quality of our self talk. We eliminate the frantic text message quality of our thoughts. Instead, we focus on the primal messages of "inhale and exhale" or "eat and sleep." In uncovering these messages, we honor our minds and true natures. Consequently, our actions stem from an authentic place because we are following direct orders from the boss--the Self.

Sutra 1.2 is a particular favorite because it was my personal assignment for yoga school in 2003. My first readings meant nothing, but when I read Sri Swami Satchidananda's commentary, I was thrilled to know I had the most important sutra. "In this Sutra Patanjali gives the goal of Yoga," Satchidandanda writes. "For a keen student this one Sutra would be enough because the rest of them only explain this one."

In essence, Patanjali sent his ancient Tweet into the 21st century. All of yoga is summarized with Sutra 1.2, less than 140 characters.

On a related note, I am reminded that the "mind" is more than just the head. Yesterday, a co-worker wiggled her little finger and said that that little motion affected the entire body's network of cells, nerves, muscles, and connective tissue. "The mind is the body," she said.

As Walt Whitman said in Song of Myself, "I am the poet of the body; I am the poet of the soul."

new york custom & an (attempted) pickup

This is a hilarious blog from my friend Anastasia.
new york custom & an (attempted) pickup

Rock Solid Pilates, Real Solid Advice

Many of today’s food labels have mullet mentality: business in front and party in the back, according to health counselor Robyn Youkilis. In other words, many items advertised as “organic” or “all natural” contain unpronounceable flavors and preservatives.

“Our bodies are screaming at us actually,” Robyn said. “We need to listen.”

Robyn’s Sunday lecture “Weigh Less, Live More” included Top Ten Tips to listening to nutritional needs. These are:

1.       Feed your soul with primary food like friends, family, spirituality, and a satisfying career.

2.       Drink water, starting your day with a full glass on your nightstand. Our brains are 90% water.

3.       Eat a plant-based diet. Plant foods are lower in calories and higher in fiber.

4.       Chew your food well. Not only does chewing help digestion, it allows time to register fullness, keeping you from overeating.

5.       Eat real food, avoiding ingredients like “corn syrup” or anything unpronounceable. She even mentioned real fats like nuts, olive oil, and real butter.

6.       Eat breakfast to maintain blood sugar levels and mood.

7.       Eat mindfully. Sit and savor the food away from the television and computer.

8.       Get moving. Think of all the ways you can fit in exercise from taking the stairs to walking the dog.

9.       Sleep, rest and relax. Your body craves quick, sugary energy when you are sleep-deprived.

10.   Schedule fun time. Find things that bring joy to your life.

The hour-lecture was friendly and fun, especially after an hour-long Pilates class taught by Jewel Elizabeth, creator of Rock Solid Pilates. As a team, Robyn and Elizabeth presented a well- rounded two-hour workshop at Pearl Studios. Robyn covered food, and Jewel covered exercise.

After Jewel’s class, I felt warm and happy, able to sit through a lecture that didn’t feel like a lecture; we had time to interact and sample quinoa, a grain-like ingredient that Jewel and Robyn swore “you can’t mess up.”

The overall theme was mindful movement and eating.

For a sample workout, try:
ROCK SOLID: PILATES™//Podcast 1: The CORE 10 (14:04) 

Fantasy lululemon

This is me pretending I work for lululemon. I have created, printed, and framed my one year-, five year-, and 10 year goals just like the lulu employees. The goals have a prominent position above my kitchen table and below my autographed photo of Robert Culp in Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice.

Short-term goals -- in the categories of health, career, and personal -- include climbing four area mountains, saving $1,000, and finishing final drafts of my novel by December 2010.

Middle-term goals include driving across the country in a really cool vintage car, having decent insurance, and taking a fast-paced French course.

Longer-term goals include my own trademarked brand of fitness, owning a New York apartment with a garden, and saving one-million dollars

As stated in lululemon's Sept. 8 goal-setting class, goals must define your core values. They must be written in present tense, be SMART (Specific, Measurable, Authentic, Realistic, and Timely), require growth, and be 50% achievable.

Mine are.

Yoga Sutra #1

As part of my personal practice for fall, I am re-reading Patanjali's yoga sutras.

1. Atha yoganusasanam. Now the exposition of Yoga is being made. 

I like the word "now" in this sutra. The word indicates immediacy and also freedom. Change can happen this second, and this second, and this second because I say so.


I included a picture of my two cats Malcolm and Leah. As you can see, they are the perfect yogis.

lulu-Oompahs Construct My Life

lululemon Athletica irks me as well as fascinates me. That little omega --- appearing on the hips, ankles, and racer backs of athletes and non-athletes alike -- suggests the buyer paid big money to show love of exercise and the environment.

I say this as a person who loves the clothing; my irritation stems from the fact that I can’t get a job there.

As a perky yoga and Pilates teacher, I'm like, "What gives?"

Perhaps I didn't get the job because I couldn't make it to the free Sunday yoga class prior to the interview. When I did go to the interview, I was ten minutes early. To my horror, I noticed that we were going to sit cross-legged on yoga mats, a horrible concept because I wore a slim fitting business skirt when everyone else wore athletic wear. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the interview, which included each of us telling our personal goals for the year.

Goal-setting is one of the things I love about lululemon's business model. Having worked in the corporate world, I like being recognized as a human. I also like that lulu hires yoga teachers, spin instructors, and marathon runners as clerks, also known as "store educators." As a result, I rarely have a bad time in lululemon. Every time I go in, people are nice to me. They say something cute. They ask what I do. They show me the store’s latest happy trends like organic cotton onesies, which happen to be by the Lincoln Center store’s goal wall.

Yes, goal wall. After my failed interview, I visit lulu's goal walls, a feature in all stores. These walls include individual employee's framed year-long, five-year-long, and 10-year-long goals.

Last week, an employee found me gawking at the Lincoln Center wall. She invited me to a goal-setting workshop the next day. I signed up and went.

In true lulu fashion, we ate fruit on yoga mats while a manager and the store running ambassador led us through detailed worksheets. The questions asked for our core values and how we’d like to live. The goals span the categories of health, career, and personal. They have to be 50% achievable, meaning they have to be big goals beyond what we normally do.

At the end of the workshop, we completed a goal table, just like the ones behind the black frames. I really enjoyed doing this. It took some thought: one of my year-long health goals is to join an out door hiking club and climb four area mountains by September 1, 2010. I decided on this because I already get enough exercise through work. However, I often feel imbalanced because I do my work inside on tiled or carpeted surfaces. I feel I would be so much healthier if I got out of the city several times a year.

I'll be blogging about my goals. I like them, and I still like lululemon even though I can't afford their clothes and they won't hire me.

lululemon's Blog
lululemon Article

Clearing Space, Clearing Minds: Professional Profile

Debra Riva was always organized, a skill she learned from her mother. The skill also served her as an executive assistant to a prominent New York figure.

Debra is a feng shui consultant and professional organizer and started her consulting business "The Art of Order" over ten years ago. She supports her clients to create an easy flow of energy by organizing their lives and removing clutter.

“Clutter is an energy block,” she said. “It translates into any and all areas of our lives from relationships to finances.”

Clearing space and being organized is part of one's spiritual practice. When people remove unnecessary items, they open themselves to clearer thinking and greater possibilities, she said.

Success stories include a client who could not see the floor of her apartment. Now she is able to have dinner and sleepover guests.

“She’s just amazed at the possibilities and she created it” Debra said. “We made her dream come true. Now she needs a bigger dream.”

Debra travels to homes and offices for consultations. She helps clients change habits, often starting with her “Take the Moment” approach. “Take the Moment” means just that. "Rather than letting things pile up, take the moment and do the task" she said.... Write that check. Make that phone call.

Because Fall is the last quarter of the year,it is especially good time to get organized and clear the clutter.

“Wouldn’t it be extraordinary gift for each and every one of us to clean out any clutter at this time so that we can sail into the New Year with a clean slate and without the burden of clutter?” she said.

To learn more:
•attend Debra’s From Clutter to Clarity Workshop from 4 to 6:30 p.m., Oct. 4, at Sacred Center.
•visit Debra’s website.

Acupunture for Allergies

Tired of over-the-counter drugs and passive advice from doctors, I tried acupuncture Tuesday afternoon.

When I arrived in the beautiful office, complete with moody lighting and music, I knew I was in the right place. The hour-long appointment (I was late) started with a health interview about my skin, sleep habits, and diet.

I told her that my skin was dry, my sleep was good, and my diet included morning donuts and sweetened tea. Right away, she told me that sweets, including raw carrots, create mucus buildup. Better choices would include spicy items that would clear out my sinuses.

Later, she took my organ pulse and taught me to apply Roman chamomile to my face.

"Have you been feeling angry lately?" she asked. "Or unable to express some kind of grief."

Her reasons were that my lung and liver pulses were lagging. Because the lungs govern grief and the liver responds to anger, she suggested that my allergies have other triggers besides ragweed and mold. In addition, fall and spring -- prime times for seasonal allergies -- are transitional times when people have "one foot in and one foot out" of their lives.

Finally, she inserted several tiny needles in into my feet, hands, belly, and face. When she got to the area around my eyes, I started to cry. She left me alone for a few minutes, and I remembered all the angry I've felt over my summer guests, the neighbor's roaches.

At the end of the appointment, she put peppermint oil drops in my hand, asked me to rub my hands together, and breath into the cup of my hands. I cleared up immediately.

I left with a sticky-note prescription that included her recommended oils.

Today, I woke up feeling amazing. Instead of taking a pill, she gave me things to do, something my doctor left alone.

Food: Don't Stop Till You Get Enough

I am still haunted by a July 1, 2009, story by the Today Show's Dr. Nancy Snyderman.

Overshadowed by the death of Michael Jackson, Snyderman discussed a new report by Trust for America’s Health and the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation. According to the report, one in four adults in 31 states are obese.

She went on to say that America has "peaked," that our abundance of food is the wrong kind of food and that our poor choices weaken our position on the world stage.

" ... I don't think we can be a world power if we continue to be this unhealthy," Snyderman said.

Snyderman mentioned a recent trip to Florida, where she found drive-up pharmacies on each corner of an intersection. The sight disturbed her.

"In America, when you are unhealthy, don't worry about getting out of your car and walking in and getting your medicine," she said. "Drive up. Get your medicine."

Her words should have been heard throughout the country: from New York to California, from Michigan to Texas, and from the fattest state of Mississippi to the thinnest state of Colorado. Instead, her decree transitioned into yet another report on Jackson, a man who owned most of the Sony Music Catalog and died at the hands of his own propofol-prescribing physician.

Our forefathers would be proud.

Core Fusion: My First Time

Core Fusion®,  -- Exhale’s combination of Pilates, Yoga, and the Lotte Berk Method -- is hardly new. With exceptional teaching, efficient use of time, and energizing music, old parts shine.

                My first class was with Barbara Boolukos, who has studied the Lotte Berk Method since the early 1980s. (Lotte Berk is like the other Joseph Pilates). During the 3 p.m. class, Exhale’s South Central Park location seemed empty, enabling Barbara more time with each student.

                Hands-on help was appropriate, accompanied by intelligent explanations that helped me use core muscles instead of flailing my limbs. Music like Nina Simone’s “Sinnerman” gave the class energy without an aggressive gym attitude.

                I did have safety concerns regarding pace. In the first six minutes, we did a quick marching exercise followed by major push up variations, planks, and side. Within the same six minutes, we stood and lifted weights in a bent-knee position with the back at a neutral diagonal. 

Although this progression warmed me up, I felt dizzy from the quick transitions from standing to floor to standing. Moreover, I could not hold my back in a neutral diagonal while lifting weights. My lower back, hamstrings, and shoulders did not feel warm enough.

I have great respect for the last half of class. We fatigued each major muscle group and stretched appropriately. I felt cooled down physically and emotionally. Afterwards, I made full use of the beautiful showers, products, and plush bathrobes. I walked out feeling tall and beautiful.

The next day

My abs burned, but my hip flexors killed. Note to people: hip flexors are not your core or your abs. Hip flexers connect your legs to your back. They are already strong from sitting at the computer.

Overall, a great class, but not great enough for the $35. Student rates are $20 a class with proper identification. Ask for student rates before they swipe your credit card because they will not give you the $15! Definitely Central Park South.

Multitasking Foreskins

Two August 30, 2009, New York Times articles present the following questions:

• Is male circumcision necessary? The Latest Fight Over the Foreskin
• Are multitaskers more or less productive than unitaskers? The Mediocre Multitasker

What are your feelings?

See also:
Mom, Keep Your Hands Off My Foreskin

Product Alert: Avoid CorePlus Reformer

When I returned GAIAM’s® CorePlus Reformer, I had words for the sales person.

“This is a giant piece of crap.”

He just smiled and returned my $29.99.

Of course, I should know better. As a Pilates instructor, I know that most people dislike the softness of their tummies. Most people--including me--will buy anything entitled “core.”

Unfortunately, “core” is one of the industry’s buzz words, sometimes one of its biggest lies.

This core product comes in a boxed kit that includes a 45-minute video and the CorePlus Reformer, two connected stretch bands meant to mimic leg straps on a Pilates reformer.

It sounded so promising, but GAIAM® made a lazy mistake: the one-size-fits-all straps cannot accommodate anyone taller than Mari Windsor, the video’s petite and engaging host.

While my cat watched, I arranged my 5’ 10’’ body into the four-looped CorePlus Reformer. Once my arms and legs were inside, I tried to follow Mari and her assistants in moves like double leg stretch. The girls sailed through the exercise, but I remained in traction, much like Han Solo in Return of the Jedi.

Although the product has potential, the straps are not long enough, nor do they stretch enough to allow shoulder or leg movement. I had the most success with rollbacks, which felt wonderful and kept me scooping my abdominals instead of slumping. The back strengthening exercises made sufficient use of the bands, but I could have gotten the same results from regular stretch bands.

After humiliating myself in my own home, on my own rug, I promised my cat that I wouldn't buy useless crap.

The Jazz Hand Calorie Challenge

Tap dancing burns a lot of calories.

I know this first hand, pun intended. On August 16, I laced my dusty black tap shoes for the filming of Jazz Hand. Written by my friends Mary Archbald and Pat Shay, the film is based on one of New York’s most macabre tap auditions.

On that merciless August day, we dancers flapped, time stepped, and winged ourselves into brain cell-killing oblivion. The music, Patti LuPone’s Anything Goes, made us dance at about 130 beats per minute. We did many takes over the next three hours.

It kicked my buns.

Although I am a fitness instructor, I rarely exercise that intensely for that length of time because that would be nuts. This day was a special day dedicated to friends and creativity. Still, I was curious. I surfed the web to find Livestrong.com’s The Daily Plate. How handy! The on-line exercise and food journal calculated calories burned versus calories consumed.

After entering age, weight, and height, a menu bar let me select my current lifestyle, feelings, and goals. In the search bar, I typed "tap dancing." A photo and definition appeared as well as a box asking duration, distance, and heart rate. I selected 180 minutes and left distance and heart rate blank; I didn’t know them.

Seconds later, I knew the results: the Jazz Hand Calorie Challenge subtracted 947 calories from my 2,751 calorie a day diet! That means that three hours of tap burns more calories than 180 minutes of golf (888 c) but less than running (1,973 c).

Extra Jazzy Credit

After the shoot, Mary and Pat treated us to Irish cuisine. I had a chicken sandwich (+430 c), fries (+100 c), and at least two rolls (+480 c). I washed it down with Magners Cider (+215 c).