thoughtful Saturday

This is a very interesting post to me.

I still haven’t really worked out all the messy psychology of blogging and commenting and whether it even resembles a normal way of communicating with other humans, or…not. I’m leaning towards not, and I’m trying to figure out whether the way that Laurie has managed to evolve into thinking about her emails and commenters is the right way, the wrong way, or whether you should give up blogging before you’re ever in a position to decide this question.

I don’t generally have this problem at the magnitude that she does, because when she opens comments on her posts she gets hundreds and I’m sure she receives tens of thousands of emails every year, where I get a couple of comments per post and virtually no email. This is okay. I like attention, but having attention at the level she describes here may not be something I’m ready for. But I have dealt with this problem at a small level, and have had to figure out what to do about comments which have insulted me, or rubbed me the wrong way, or were just out-and-out baffling. The answer so far seems to be just to let them go, ignore them, don’t worry about them, and keep writing. Keep writing exactly the way you want to. I guess that’s probably the best way to deal with bad reviews if you’re a professional writer as well, come to think of it.

Also, the video she posted did not make me cry, but the one below makes me cry every goddamn time I watch it. Not the ugly cry, but the uncontrollable-streaming cry. There’s something about bringing joy to this commitment, pure dancing joy, rather than tradition and pomp, that really hits me and touches my heart. I just wish I could figure out something this creative and this much fun for my own wedding, which will have a significantly smaller wedding party than these lucky folks.

—

This morning I went to a free Lululemon class, and to my surprise, Jennifer was there. The class was frustrating and no fun for both of us, and we spent an hour over tea at Whole Foods afterward talking about why. The teacher was unsafe, we decided, and she spoke so quietly that I could barely hear her and I was only a mat’s length from her. She also went  s o  s l o w l y  that both of us were antsy by a third of the way through it. I kept going back and forth about whether it’s my problem or the teacher’s problem when she teaches a class that I have absolutely no fun in. Sometimes you can tell the person is just a crummy teacher, but in this case it was the style that I really didn’t dig, which is theoretically my problem. But she’s teaching a free class at Lululemon; in my opinion, these people were expecting something a little more flashy, a little more mainstream, than old-school yoga.

But does that mean you should teach solely to the audience you expect, rather than teaching the style of yoga that is you? Or should you not whore out to your locale and just teach the way you want to, and hope that people will come as they enjoy your class rather than coming because you do what’s popular? There are so many intriciacies to this problem.

Jennifer and I also chatted a little bit about me growing out of Paul’s instruction, and why he’s been sort of cold to me in the past few months, and Jennifer pointed out something that never occurred to me – he feels jealous and insecure. He’s never been to teacher training, and I figured that was a choice that he comfortably made; at this point in his teaching career he hardly needs it. But Jennifer said no, he feels intimidated by the idea of teacher training and doesn’t want to rearrange his life to do it, so he’s put up a wall around the idea, and is jealous of people who’ve managed to get beyond it. This might be why I perceive that he doesn’t like me: for him, he’s 50 and growth is done (or at least, as he sees it, growth is done), where I’m just starting this journey. That can be a major kink in the ego.

This same thing has happened to me at jobs before and I’ve been totally oblivious to it, because I may appear young and fresh and talented and full of opportunity to someone who’s 55 and bitter about the curving tail of their career, but to me I’m just working and not making enough money and jealous of people who have a long enough arc that they can command a decent salary. I’m not sure I can let this other perspective inform my life too much without my own ego getting out of hand, but it’s kind of nice to have it pointed out to me when it’s necessary.

Finally, here’s an interesting little personal essay for you. This is the question I struggle with when I think about my big dreams, and when I wonder about what Gandhi’s wife felt when he stopped eating for peace. I remember reading an article about Obama talking to his wife before he began the run for President, asking her if it was okay with her, and it occurred to me that for four or eight years, his marriage would essentially be on hold while he ran the free world. I never thought of how the decision to run for President could be one that you would decide not to make for the sake of your family…or the decision to be a world-changer. But if you care at all about the people around you, you consult them, as Obama did. Interesting.