Make time for the people you love

It's been almost a week since my last blog and I just haven't had much time or a clear idea of what to write. Then a college friend of mine posted this on Facebook (thanks Frank) and bingo, that says it all.

It's a continuous journey to create balance in our lives and keep our eye on what really matters.

Sometimes I get buried by the mundane, the administrative, and the domestic. I forgo what matters with what I think I "should" be doing and what "needs" to be done, but is that where my priorities really lie?

It's been a jam packed week, and since my work day is generally about eleven hours, there's nothing I look forward to more than snuggling up in my sweats on the couch, maybe with a glass of wine and a good book or something from the DVR Que.

There were several opportunities that arose which would tempt me away from my comfy couch:    Meeting Tracy's baby girl Eliza, surprising Peg for her 50th Birthday with a backyard flash mob, dancing with Pina to celebrate her 10 year Jazzer-anniversary, and enjoying delicious Indian food, wine and three hours of soul sister conversation with Sandra. 

THESE were the things that really mattered this week.  Teaching classes, prepping for radio shows, tackling the laundry....it all needs to get done.  But NOT at the expense of making the people that matter a priority.

The couch will still be there.  And so will the laundry.

Our toughest adventure yet

Image from feebreeze.tumblr.com

Pina and I agreed as we left last night's adventure that it was BY FAR the toughest yet.

We've braved the zip line, wavered across a rope bridge high above the trees, maneuvered through the waves on a surfboard, but nothing prepared us for floating.


Yep, floating.

I had heard about iFloat from a few others who extolled the relaxing and calming virtues of floating.  Pina had heard as well and when she saw a Living Social voucher enticing us to float, she jumped on it.

"Floating?" I asked. "Can't I do that for free in my bathtub?"

We were still trying to find a time to celebrate Pina's birthday and she was game,  so what the heck, I'm in.

We arrived at the floating destination and had an orientation with our Zen-like float master, David.   Who knew there'd be floating 'rules?'   Pina insists that the look on my face was priceless as David invited us to peer into the floating chamber.   I was having some serious MRI flashbacks at this point.  

Floating is done naked, in the dark, alone and in silence.  For sixty minutes.  You are suspended in a warm solution of Epsom salt, about 10″ deep, so dense that "you float effortlessly" according to David.  He also instructed that we be very mindful of our necks as most people try to hold their heads up, like you would in an actual swimming pool, but it's not necessary to do that while you're floating.  That was one of the real challenges, and a true lesson in letting go in the fullest sense.

But the biggest challenge was being still.  At first I was acting like I really was in the MRI, attempting not to move a muscle. Hmm, how much time had elapsed, I began wondering.  Maybe three minutes?  Whew, only 57 to go.

Then as time went on, I realized that I could move, a little.  No splashing mind you, but some micro-movements, wiggling fingers and toes, tilting the head from side to side.  Hey, whatever you can do to pass the time.   I tried meditating, practicing my yoga breathing, reviewing my to do list for the following day, planning a menu for our holiday get together.... you name it.

Eventually I did my best to relax and enjoy the experience and when the music began playing (the signal that your session has come to an end), I breathed a sigh of relief. Although I also half expected  to hear David's soothing voice through an intercom informing me I had just taken part in some kind of porn film.

But it came down to this.  Stillness is a bitch.  We just aren't used to it (well at least I'm not).  So is relinquishing control for many of us. When we consider how much control we have and need on a daily basis, to let it ALL go, is completely foreign.  Comparing notes afterwards, Pina and I both wondered how it is that the world has become such a fast paced, chaotic, harried place, that there's a need for such extreme measures to get us to slow down.

We remained relaxed through the rest of the evening which included sampling a Pickle Martini at the the Arts Festival in Westport (I'd be more likely to try floating before I sip another Pickle Martini) and sharing a scrumptious dinner at the new Spotted Horse

All in all a truly memorable adventure.


And for the record, I do plan to slip in to my bath tub sometime over the weekend.

A K & P adventure of a different sort: Breaking the pattern

Pina & I in the lobby of Feinstein's

 

In our quest for adventure, Pina and I have tackled  the heights of zip lining, the waves of surfing, the spotlight at halftime at the Big East Tournament, but this month we decided on an adventure of a different sort. 

Our parameters are broad.  It could be something we've never done, a place we've never been, it doesn't really matter as long it provides a new experience.  After all isn't life simply a collection of experiences?

So last night we headed to Park Avenue in NYC  to Michael Feinstein's swanky Loews Regency Night Club.

Now I've never been there, so that makes it an adventure already.   In fact, I'm sure I've never been to anything remotely resembling the description on their website  -  "next generation of great supper clubs."

But hey it was a chance  to dress up, sip wine, enjoy scrumptious appetizers (the flat bread was heaven!!) and listen to the beautiful sounds of Caroline Jones. You can check out her music here.  The evening was just lovely (and complements of Mr. Paul Tudor Jones I should add.  Thank you Mr. Jones!). 

The real adventure however, involved breaking a pattern.  You see, this event didn't even start until 8:30 pm.  In New York City.  On a Sunday night.   Not only is a late night like that way past my bed time, but on a school night to boot!   

By 8:30 pm on Sunday nights I'm tucked into my flannel pj's, buried in the Sunday paper, or maybe a basket of laundry.  But putting on my party shoes and heading to Manhattan.  Uh, no.

How many times do we label ourselves, our habits?  Like, "I don't go out on Sunday nights."    Someone in fact used that very line when I mentioned where I was headed.   

What's your label?   What is the pattern that you wouldn't consider breaking.  I challenge you to reconsider.  

Then break the pattern.  Maybe not all the time, but just once. 

I'm glad I broke the pattern and went out on school night for a bit of an adventure, even if it means I  may need a second cup of coffee this afternoon.  New venue, new artist (buying her CD today!), new friends, and did I mention the flat bread?