Please check out my new CD for spa/relaxation/yoga. It should be available on iTunes soon as well!
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss?url=search-alias%3Dpopular&field-keywords=shivikashi+spa&x=11&y=21
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Please Check Out My New Book!
I recently self-published a book called, "4 Questions for The Creator" on blurb.com.
You can preview it at: http://www.blurb.com/user/suzann
Please let me know what you think and, if you like it, feel free to order it!
Peace to all.
You can preview it at: http://www.blurb.com/user/suzann
Please let me know what you think and, if you like it, feel free to order it!
Peace to all.
Monday, July 13, 2009
WARNING: Nothing To Do With Yoga!
Everyone has to have a few healthy obsessions. Besides yoga, infomercials and warning labels bring me endless joy. Here is a picture of my paper shredder. You can see the slot where the paper is inserted. You can also see the warning labels to the left.
Just in case you think your eyes might be playing tricks on you, I’ll spell them out:
1. A paperclip
2. An entire human hand
3. An aerosol spray can
4. A man’s necktie
5. A lady’s ponytail
6. A whole baby
Notwithstanding the fact that only 3 of these things would actually fit into the slot, I’d like to address each of them at a time.
1. The paperclip. Okay, I get this. The shredder can handle up to 6 sheets of paper at a time. It’s highly likely that I could forget there is a paperclip around several of them, in which case, the lightning pictured above the exclamation point will surely (and viciously) stream down and knock me unconscious. Crumb.
2. The entire human hand. I can’t tell you how often I feel like getting a manicure, but I just don’t have the time for it. I’ve dreamt of being able to just stick the tips of my fingers into the shredder, oh so delicately, for a beautiful salon quality pair of hands. I wouldn’t even have to worry about the nail clippings dropping onto the floor! But, no, the makers of this shredder will have none of that. Bummer.
3. An aerosol spray can. See, I just think this one is a mistake. Somewhere on the assembly line, this product must have become tangled up with some of those airport charts where they show you what items are forbidden on a plane. Much like you can’t fit a square peg into a round hole, you also cannot fit a round metal can into a tiny little sliver of a paper slot. So, how would this even be possible? Now, it could be that this is a warning not to spray any substances into the shredder from an aerosol can. If this is the case, then I’m gravely disappointed. What if I want to spray paint little stencils and cutesy designs on my documents after I’ve already shredded them? Additionally, I might want to drip hairspray down into my paper spaghetti mixture just to see what kinds of shapes will form. Denied.
4. The man’s necktie. Gentlemen, how many times have you purchased a necktie only to realize later that it’s too long? It isn’t always convenient to take it back to the store for another one. If only you could just give it a snip in your paper shredder! Think of the time you would save. And, your tie would have that already-worn sort of jagged look on the bottom – like fringe. Obviously, this is a conspiracy by the people who make scissors. Dang.
5. The lady’s ponytail. I could save another trip to the salon if only I could just pull my hair back into a ponytail, turn my head around 180 degrees, and just sort of lean ever so slightly backwards so that my tail dangles down into the shredder. The money I would save! The peace of mind! And this strikes me as even more peculiar -- why would a label warn against having a ponytail around a device such as this? It seems like, if anything, the ponytail should be encouraged to keep pesky long hair from dangling down like tinsel into the shredder as one leans curiously forward to watch the machine mutilate documents. Drat.
6. The whole baby. What?!?!?! Are there people on this planet who really need to be warned that it’s bad to stick a baby down a paper shredder?!?!?!?! I’m going to assume this one means to keep babies away from the paper shredder, which I think, is a good idea. Children should not be allowed near anything that has warning labels even the adults can’t wrap their brains around. Duh.
Just in case you think your eyes might be playing tricks on you, I’ll spell them out:
1. A paperclip
2. An entire human hand
3. An aerosol spray can
4. A man’s necktie
5. A lady’s ponytail
6. A whole baby
Notwithstanding the fact that only 3 of these things would actually fit into the slot, I’d like to address each of them at a time.
1. The paperclip. Okay, I get this. The shredder can handle up to 6 sheets of paper at a time. It’s highly likely that I could forget there is a paperclip around several of them, in which case, the lightning pictured above the exclamation point will surely (and viciously) stream down and knock me unconscious. Crumb.
2. The entire human hand. I can’t tell you how often I feel like getting a manicure, but I just don’t have the time for it. I’ve dreamt of being able to just stick the tips of my fingers into the shredder, oh so delicately, for a beautiful salon quality pair of hands. I wouldn’t even have to worry about the nail clippings dropping onto the floor! But, no, the makers of this shredder will have none of that. Bummer.
3. An aerosol spray can. See, I just think this one is a mistake. Somewhere on the assembly line, this product must have become tangled up with some of those airport charts where they show you what items are forbidden on a plane. Much like you can’t fit a square peg into a round hole, you also cannot fit a round metal can into a tiny little sliver of a paper slot. So, how would this even be possible? Now, it could be that this is a warning not to spray any substances into the shredder from an aerosol can. If this is the case, then I’m gravely disappointed. What if I want to spray paint little stencils and cutesy designs on my documents after I’ve already shredded them? Additionally, I might want to drip hairspray down into my paper spaghetti mixture just to see what kinds of shapes will form. Denied.
4. The man’s necktie. Gentlemen, how many times have you purchased a necktie only to realize later that it’s too long? It isn’t always convenient to take it back to the store for another one. If only you could just give it a snip in your paper shredder! Think of the time you would save. And, your tie would have that already-worn sort of jagged look on the bottom – like fringe. Obviously, this is a conspiracy by the people who make scissors. Dang.
5. The lady’s ponytail. I could save another trip to the salon if only I could just pull my hair back into a ponytail, turn my head around 180 degrees, and just sort of lean ever so slightly backwards so that my tail dangles down into the shredder. The money I would save! The peace of mind! And this strikes me as even more peculiar -- why would a label warn against having a ponytail around a device such as this? It seems like, if anything, the ponytail should be encouraged to keep pesky long hair from dangling down like tinsel into the shredder as one leans curiously forward to watch the machine mutilate documents. Drat.
6. The whole baby. What?!?!?! Are there people on this planet who really need to be warned that it’s bad to stick a baby down a paper shredder?!?!?!?! I’m going to assume this one means to keep babies away from the paper shredder, which I think, is a good idea. Children should not be allowed near anything that has warning labels even the adults can’t wrap their brains around. Duh.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Want to Play?
My friend (Charles) and I created a fun new game. It's sort of like yoga for your mind. To begin, you write down 2 words. We chose "monkey business." Then, you create as many words as you can using only the letters from the two words. (For instance, for "monkey business," you might spell "skin," "some," "sunny," etc.) Next, you follow these rules:
1. Choose 8-10 words from the list
2. Insert “I,” “in,” “on,” “is,” “so,” “an” to make a poem
3. Added rule = can use “if”
4. Added rule = can repeat words
5. Added rule = can use the words in any order
6. Added rule = all poets are named “Previous”
7. Added rule = can discover new words and use them
We came up with 89 words from "monkey business" and these are all of the poems we created using those words (and adding "if").
Monkey Business:
Ski on bones.
In mouse, I money.
Snob is keys.
Musky bun.
--Previous
Bon sin
If
Buson is sin;
In sunny souks
In key –
Skin is bunk
Skin is bone
--Previous
Sum monkeys sin,
Yes.
My nuns,
My monks,
My skin.
Money is in.
--Previous
I am bien,
Monsieur;
Ink on money
Like monks on a bus.
Like minks,
Skim the ink from skin.
--Previous
Feel free to add a poem of your own using "monkey business" words!
1. Choose 8-10 words from the list
2. Insert “I,” “in,” “on,” “is,” “so,” “an” to make a poem
3. Added rule = can use “if”
4. Added rule = can repeat words
5. Added rule = can use the words in any order
6. Added rule = all poets are named “Previous”
7. Added rule = can discover new words and use them
We came up with 89 words from "monkey business" and these are all of the poems we created using those words (and adding "if").
Monkey Business:
Ski on bones.
In mouse, I money.
Snob is keys.
Musky bun.
--Previous
Bon sin
If
Buson is sin;
In sunny souks
In key –
Skin is bunk
Skin is bone
--Previous
Sum monkeys sin,
Yes.
My nuns,
My monks,
My skin.
Money is in.
--Previous
I am bien,
Monsieur;
Ink on money
Like monks on a bus.
Like minks,
Skim the ink from skin.
--Previous
Feel free to add a poem of your own using "monkey business" words!
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Bathroom Meditation: The Final Yogic Frontier.
How many times have you started a 40-day meditation, cleanse, or practice only to forget somewhere around the 30th day and shamefully have to begin again? This has happened to me several times over the years and, as I started a 40-day prosperity meditation recently, I vowed to make it through on the first try.
On the 35th day, I found myself at a wine bar with friends. As far as curb appeal goes, this particular wine bar is top-notch; beckoning patrons off the street with cool music, hip décor, and a trendy urban ambiance fit for a modish night on the town. On this night, however, I found the patrons themselves to be lacking in style, decorum, and coolness. From what I could discern, most of these wine drinkers seemed to have over-imbibed and appeared to be stumbling over each other, and themselves, in a desperate attempt to avoid going home alone.
The bathrooms looked as if an all-day outdoor festival had taken place and the patrons I observed were certainly to blame. Toilet paper was carelessly strewn all over the floor and toilet, puddles of spilled alcohol engulfed the heels of my shoes, and the unmistakable smell of fresh vomit wafted from the sink. I believe I even spotted some tiny, delicious little chunks of someone’s dinner clinging to the drain. Even after washing my hands three times with soap and water, I still failed to feel completely clean.
Fortunately, I was able to get past all of this in order to enjoy my friends. That is, until I realized it was 11:37pm and I still had not done my meditation. When I realized I would never make it home in time to complete my chanting before midnight no matter how quickly I drove, I panicked. Frantically, my mind raced as I attempted to devise options for myself. Nothing came to mind. And then, one of my friends recommended, “I think you should just go in the bathroom.”
Sadly, she was right. I had nowhere else to go.
Since the ladies’ room was occupied and I was in a hurry, I hesitantly entered the men’s room and shut and locked the door. Very quickly, I toyed with the thought of sitting on the toilet, but I was afraid my pants would permanently stick to it and I would have to leave them behind. So, with nostrils struggling to keep the putrid air out, rather than invite it in, I stood against the wall and began to chant my meditation.
I cannot say with any degree of certainty how much time elapsed. All I know is that I scurried hastily out of there when I heard a clumsy, thunderous knock on the door, crashing against the locked doorknob, and a man screaming, “Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyy, whooooosseee innnnnnneeee thaaaaaaiiiiiiirrrrrrr??????” It caused me to feel weird and dirty as it awakened me to the reality of my gross surroundings.
Still, I felt a huge sense of relief and accomplishment; not unlike the usual relief and accomplishment one might experience when exiting the restroom. I had done it! Day 35 of my meditation was a success. Never mind that my shoes were sticking to the floor now as I walked. I managed to meditate before midnight. And, as my personal revenge, I entered the address for the wine bar into the “Sit or Squat” application of my iPhone and tagged the bathroom as a definite “squat!”
On the 35th day, I found myself at a wine bar with friends. As far as curb appeal goes, this particular wine bar is top-notch; beckoning patrons off the street with cool music, hip décor, and a trendy urban ambiance fit for a modish night on the town. On this night, however, I found the patrons themselves to be lacking in style, decorum, and coolness. From what I could discern, most of these wine drinkers seemed to have over-imbibed and appeared to be stumbling over each other, and themselves, in a desperate attempt to avoid going home alone.
The bathrooms looked as if an all-day outdoor festival had taken place and the patrons I observed were certainly to blame. Toilet paper was carelessly strewn all over the floor and toilet, puddles of spilled alcohol engulfed the heels of my shoes, and the unmistakable smell of fresh vomit wafted from the sink. I believe I even spotted some tiny, delicious little chunks of someone’s dinner clinging to the drain. Even after washing my hands three times with soap and water, I still failed to feel completely clean.
Fortunately, I was able to get past all of this in order to enjoy my friends. That is, until I realized it was 11:37pm and I still had not done my meditation. When I realized I would never make it home in time to complete my chanting before midnight no matter how quickly I drove, I panicked. Frantically, my mind raced as I attempted to devise options for myself. Nothing came to mind. And then, one of my friends recommended, “I think you should just go in the bathroom.”
Sadly, she was right. I had nowhere else to go.
Since the ladies’ room was occupied and I was in a hurry, I hesitantly entered the men’s room and shut and locked the door. Very quickly, I toyed with the thought of sitting on the toilet, but I was afraid my pants would permanently stick to it and I would have to leave them behind. So, with nostrils struggling to keep the putrid air out, rather than invite it in, I stood against the wall and began to chant my meditation.
I cannot say with any degree of certainty how much time elapsed. All I know is that I scurried hastily out of there when I heard a clumsy, thunderous knock on the door, crashing against the locked doorknob, and a man screaming, “Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyy, whooooosseee innnnnnneeee thaaaaaaiiiiiiirrrrrrr??????” It caused me to feel weird and dirty as it awakened me to the reality of my gross surroundings.
Still, I felt a huge sense of relief and accomplishment; not unlike the usual relief and accomplishment one might experience when exiting the restroom. I had done it! Day 35 of my meditation was a success. Never mind that my shoes were sticking to the floor now as I walked. I managed to meditate before midnight. And, as my personal revenge, I entered the address for the wine bar into the “Sit or Squat” application of my iPhone and tagged the bathroom as a definite “squat!”
Monday, March 30, 2009
The Most Expensive Yoga Class Never Taken.
A good friend of mine did something yesterday that caused her to pay for the most expensive yoga class she’s never taken. She drove a little over the speed limit to make it to an Ashtanga class on time. How many people have found themselves rushing to make it in before the door slams shut and the “Class is Full” sign is posted?
It was early Saturday morning, the streets were virtually empty, and my friend really needed a good yoga class. You see, her mother had been admitted to the hospital the day before and she was feeling more stressed out than usual. So, with a bit of a heavy heart and, obviously, a heavy right foot, she zoomed into the yoga studio parking lot at around 7 miles per hour over the legal limit. At least, that’s what the police officer who pulled in behind her, with blue lights flashing, alleged.
My friend jumped out of her car, ran to the yoga studio door, and was met with the cold, cruel realization that class was, indeed, full. The teacher walked out, apologetically, with the dreaded “Class is Full” sign in his hand.
“Can’t you squeeze in one more?” my friend pleaded.
“I’m sorry,” the kind yoga teacher explained, “We just don’t have room.”
“But, I’m having a terrible morning!” my friend cried.
It was then that she realized how terrible her morning had actually become. You see, in her overzealousness to make it to class on time, she never noticed the blue lights flashing behind her. Apparently, the officer had been following her for quite some time.
“Ma’am, excuse me,” the officer interrupted.
“What?” my friend turned around and asked.
“Ma’am, I need you to step over to the car,” the officer requested.
Confused, my friend walked toward her car. The yoga teacher leaned in and whispered, “If you come back later today, class will be free.”
The officer began to question my friend regarding the speed limit. Didn’t she see him behind her?
“No, I didn’t see you behind me,” she started to cry, “I was trying to get to yoga class on time. Don’t you know how fast these classes fill up?”
“Well, I’m going to have to give you a ticket,” he responded.
My friend quickly realized she had forgotten her wallet that morning. Obviously, this is not a move that either pleases or amuses our police force. Back inside the car, my friend just sat and cried.
Several more yogis showed up late for class and were met by the locked door and “Class is Full” sign. One stopped to ask the officer for directions. The other one actually knew the officer. They embraced and proceeded to catch up on old times while my friend sat in the car and continued to cry.
Twenty minutes and $147.00 later, my friend drove away. Some days are just like that, aren’t they? I guess her lesson was to take more time, relax, and stop hurrying. It’s a great lesson for all of us. Perhaps it was a lesson for the officer as well. Maybe the next time he sees a person speeding in the direction of a yoga studio, he’ll stop for a moment to realize the great paradox of our times – SOME OF US ARE IN A HURRY TO SLOW DOWN!
It was early Saturday morning, the streets were virtually empty, and my friend really needed a good yoga class. You see, her mother had been admitted to the hospital the day before and she was feeling more stressed out than usual. So, with a bit of a heavy heart and, obviously, a heavy right foot, she zoomed into the yoga studio parking lot at around 7 miles per hour over the legal limit. At least, that’s what the police officer who pulled in behind her, with blue lights flashing, alleged.
My friend jumped out of her car, ran to the yoga studio door, and was met with the cold, cruel realization that class was, indeed, full. The teacher walked out, apologetically, with the dreaded “Class is Full” sign in his hand.
“Can’t you squeeze in one more?” my friend pleaded.
“I’m sorry,” the kind yoga teacher explained, “We just don’t have room.”
“But, I’m having a terrible morning!” my friend cried.
It was then that she realized how terrible her morning had actually become. You see, in her overzealousness to make it to class on time, she never noticed the blue lights flashing behind her. Apparently, the officer had been following her for quite some time.
“Ma’am, excuse me,” the officer interrupted.
“What?” my friend turned around and asked.
“Ma’am, I need you to step over to the car,” the officer requested.
Confused, my friend walked toward her car. The yoga teacher leaned in and whispered, “If you come back later today, class will be free.”
The officer began to question my friend regarding the speed limit. Didn’t she see him behind her?
“No, I didn’t see you behind me,” she started to cry, “I was trying to get to yoga class on time. Don’t you know how fast these classes fill up?”
“Well, I’m going to have to give you a ticket,” he responded.
My friend quickly realized she had forgotten her wallet that morning. Obviously, this is not a move that either pleases or amuses our police force. Back inside the car, my friend just sat and cried.
Several more yogis showed up late for class and were met by the locked door and “Class is Full” sign. One stopped to ask the officer for directions. The other one actually knew the officer. They embraced and proceeded to catch up on old times while my friend sat in the car and continued to cry.
Twenty minutes and $147.00 later, my friend drove away. Some days are just like that, aren’t they? I guess her lesson was to take more time, relax, and stop hurrying. It’s a great lesson for all of us. Perhaps it was a lesson for the officer as well. Maybe the next time he sees a person speeding in the direction of a yoga studio, he’ll stop for a moment to realize the great paradox of our times – SOME OF US ARE IN A HURRY TO SLOW DOWN!
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