Getting Personal...

...contrary to the impression some may have gotten from that last post, this blog’s not gonna prostitute itself for hits, gratuitously throwing around keywords like big boobs...kinky sex...or hot throbbing orgasms...so don’t worry...

Oh I just don’t know where to begin...
Elvis Costello

...actually been doing some intense personal writing...off and on...since the trip to Mexico...where somebody told me I should write about the stuff I don’t wanna write about...things I tend to hint at before making a joke about big boobs, kinky sex, or hot throbbing orgasms...

...finding I can only dig into that stuff in pieces...going in, then backing off, then going in and backing off again...sometimes it helps to drink three quarters of a bottle of red wine first...saving the last quarter for afterwards...but, in the long run, that’s probably not the best idea...

Humanity’s hope lies in its capacity not to accept the way its past has played out.
Joel Kramer

...I didn’t really need to be told that...I mean, hell, it’s what I’m trying to get other people to do...dig into their deep trauma and put it into words...capture it in narrative...encapsulate it...put it outside where they can look at it...re-envision...reevaluate...reinvent...

...then, other people’s problems are always easier to confront...and it’s not exactly unusual for the cobbler to wear no shoes...ask anybody who’s spent any time with shrinks outside of their professional capacities....I’m the son of a psychiatrist and a social worker, have had a couple messed up shrinks as friends, even went out with one for a mercifully brief time...I’m not gonna tell ya what she was into...

It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.
J. Krishnamurti

...as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing better, if you’re gonna try and help somebody else, than an awareness of just how fucked up you are yourself...to know you’re not one inch above or below the person you’re trying to help....sometimes I get the impression that the addicts I work with see me as more like one of them than one of the staff...and I take that as a compliment...

The Annie Hall of Blogs?

Hello? I forgot my mantra...
L.A. party guest on the phone with his guru, Annie Hall

One thing I think I’ve said here before...though I have no problem with being redundant...or with being redundant...is that there’s nothing like not doing yoga for a little while to make you realize how badly you need to do yoga...like jeezus, did I really used to feel this crappy all the time?

...with my Illness That Probably Wasn’t Swine Flu But Sure As Hell Lasted Forfuckingever finally, apparently past, I went to a yoga class and every movement was like whoah...kind of a shock...a bit of pain...causing a tiny but quickly dissipating twinge of fear...followed by a strange pleasurable sensation that might be considered a bodily corollary to gee, it’s sure nice to be home again...

...of course I’ve also barely been blogging...but Mandy at Yoga Addiction was filled with enough of that ineffably yogic loving kindness to nonetheless give me one lovely blog award...I think it was actually called that....yeah, I’m ignoring the rules again...just like Woody Allen playing his weekly Dixieland gig instead of showing up to accept his best picture Oscar for Annie Hall...okay, maybe not quite that...but, still, Yoga for Cynics can aspire to be the Annie Hall of blogs...neurotic, insecure, often incoherent, but, in the end, beautiful and kind....sure, Diane Keaton showed up for her Oscar, but Annie herself probably would’ve smoked too much pot and ended up missing it for an emergency session with her therapist...

...meanwhile, Svasti, in her latest post, said she got 6,000 hits for using the words big boobs...I resisted the impulse to make that the title of this one, but that’s as far as my self control’s gonna go...