Leaving....on a jet plane.....

    I hate to fly. The entire process of going to the airport, going through security, getting on the train, waiting at the gate, and sitting immobilized in those ridiculous seats for hours on end makes me crazy. The overwhelming press of humanity unnerves me. Once you finally land, you get to anxiously wait for your bag to appear at baggage claim and hope that it didn't inadvertently land in another city. Then you get to repeat the sequence to return home, exhausted and jet lagged.

    I suppose wouldn't mind flying so much if I got to go somewhere fun, or have a relaxing vacation. I haven't had a vacation in over five years. I'm probably about due for one, or at least the chance to do something fun, spontaneous, and memorable. And then last weekend I did just that. After a hurried collaboration with my sister, I made the arrangements to surprise my niece for her eleventh birthday, even if it meant getting on a plane. I figured I could deal with it for the reward of seeing my niece and nephew, and the opportunity to surprise them. Who doesn't love surprises?

    I was excited to go, but dreaded the idea of flying. However, something funny happened on the way to the airport. I was in a good mood. The process of going through the airport wasn't as unnerving as it usually is for me. I even winked at the TSA agent before I could stop myself. Thank goodness there were no repercussions for that little indiscretion. The flight was on time, the seats weren't as uncomfortable as I remember, the bags were promptly at the carousel when I landed, and before I knew it I was sitting in my sister's car.

    I didn't get to see my niece until the next day after my sister picked her and my nephew up from summer camp. The reaction from both my niece and nephew was immensely gratifying; we all cried. I guess they love me and miss me as much as I love and miss them. Although if I had known in advance that my sister was going to record it and post it on Facebook, I probably would have fixed my hair and make up. Oh, well.

    The next day and a half was a whirlwind of fun and activities, including a big party, girl time, and serious shopping. I got to see another sister and two more nieces. I had so much fun I was still in a good mood when I went to the airport yesterday. Here I am, exhausted, jet lagged and deliriously happy. It appears that the kids weren't the only ones who got a surprise. I'm surprised that I just can't wait to go to the airport and get back on a plane again. I had forgotten how much fun flying could be. Isn't it funny how things change?

Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

The reluctant Ninja.

    Here I am, hard at work transcribing, editing and compiling eight years of notes from three different notebooks, several different legal pads, and a multitude of sticky notes gathered over countless hours of martial arts training, classes and seminars. This daunting project is in anticipation of  testing for my next belt level. Some day. This next level is a comprehensive test which includes everything I have learned (or supposed to have learned) since the first day I entered the dojo and began training. Reluctantly, of course. You may recall that I was going to take a few classes, learn a few things, and then quit. I thought it was a form of recreation.

    Then I discovered how serious these people were about their training. I mean, they had notebooks, for Heaven's sake! "What were those for?" I wondered. Then I found out. I was given a few sheets of paper which listed the techniques I had to learn to test for my first level, my yellow belt. I giggled. I wasn't ever going to test, I was probably going to quit soon, so why did I need that list? In spite of myself, I put the papers in a thin binder so as not to look out of place, or to appear disrespectful.

    Then I took my first seminar. My teacher brought his Sensei out from LA to help us train. My teacher talked me into attending, telling me that it was a lot of fun and Sensei was just a great big teddy bear. So, I did. The first day the big teddy bear screamed and yelled. About everything. All day. Just when I thought he had surely run out of things to yell about, he bellowed and lectured us for not taking notes. All of the upper belts whipped out their notebooks and began frantically writing. I sighed to myself, pulled out a piece of paper, picked up a pen, and stared down at the sheet of paper. My mind was as blank and empty as the paper. I had no idea what I was supposed to take notes on. I tried to sneak a peek at the paper of the brown belt sitting next to me, but as far as I was concerned, he may have been writing in Japanese. Then I realized he was.

    I noticed Sensei scowling and looking in my direction. Nervously, I began to write. After all, I didn't want to be the only one staring off into space, especially after that lecture, so I wrote some notes. Bread, eggs, milk. I figured no one would notice that I started my grocery list because my handwriting is so bad no one could possibly read it. I hopefully looked up from my list. Everyone was still writing. I sighed again and started planning my menu for the following week. Since I was already working on my grocery list it was a natural segue. Finally, the note taking period was over and we started practicing our techniques again. Still, every now and then, one of the guys would step away, pick up his notebook, and jot down a few notes. Not wanting to be out done, I walked over to my notebook and wrote down a few other items that I needed from the grocery store.

    That was eight years ago. I now have several different well organized notebooks including my original manual, my current manual, my instructor's manual, and my testing manual to name just a few. It's funny how things change. The last time Sensei came into town for a seminar, I was frantically writing notes when one of the newer students hunkered down next to me. She wanted to know what I was writing. She told me she didn't have a clue what to write. She chatted a bit more until I finally told her to write her grocery list. She stared at me for a moment and said,  "You're kidding!" I looked across the room and noticed Sensei scowling at me. I smiled back at him, turned to my fellow student and replied, "You've got to start somewhere!"

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

It turned out to be a pretty good day....in spite of myself.

    I started out my weekend in pretty low spirits. When I woke up Saturday morning, I couldn't shake off the bad mood I was experiencing. It didn't help that my very sweet little geriatric Italian Greyhound had crawled into bed with us the night before and had become incontinent sometime during the night. Sheesh. I felt the weight of the world coming down upon me. I also felt like the entire world's population was looking to do the same thing to me during the day that my little dog did the night before.

    I jumped out of bed, sprinted through the kitchen past the fresh brewed coffee that my husband had just made and directly to the laundry room. I washed the sheets, cleaned the mattress and cleaned my little dog. The nice thing about an Italian Greyhound is that they rarely require baths. All you have to do is take a damp cloth and polish them up a bit.

    Speaking of polish, by the time I finally got to my coffee, I noticed that my house could use a good cleaning. I'll be honest....I am a terrible housekeeper. It's not that I object to cleaning. Sometimes I even enjoy it. But lately I have been preoccupied with other things, and my house has been suffering from neglect as a result. My spirits were sinking like a stone. So was my energy and my motivation. I had a hard enough time getting my second cup of coffee, let alone cleaning the house.

    Finally, I made a deal with myself. Just get up off of the couch, clean one room, and crawl back into bed. Pretty appealing, now that I had clean sheets and everything. I put down my coffee and took the dark cloud that was my new best friend along with me to halfheartedly start cleaning. However, once I started moving something funny happened. I cleaned one room and then another. I mean, I was already moving, so I might as well keep going. I giggled when I realized how many cleaning products I had in my cabinets. I had to dust them off before using them, which proves how long they've been sitting in my cabinets waiting for some action. I guess they work better when you actually use them. All of a sudden I was in a better mood, and the dark cloud that had hovered over me early in the day began to move on to ruin somebody else's day.

    I felt my energy and my momentum started to surge, so I decided to keep moving. I cleaned a few closets and collected some clothes to give to charity. After all, I wasn't wearing them. I cleaned the pantry and gathered a few more items to give away. Who really needs three crock pots, anyway? I pulled a few pictures off of the wall, rearranged them, and selected a few more to give away. I had to smile as I thought about the people that would be so happy to receive the items I was donating. All of sudden I realized how fortunate I was that I had a house to clean, possessions to donate, dogs to take care of, and a cabinet full of cleaning supplies.

    Sometimes you just need to start moving. Movement is good for your spirit. Sometimes you need to make a few changes, no matter how small. Change is good for your mind. You always need to love and take care of your animals, even if they did just pee on your bed. It's good for your heart. Remember to give things to people who are less fortunate than you. It's good for your soul. Take time to be grateful for what you have and even for what you don't have. Gratitude fills your life with joy. Be honest with yourself, especially when you are in a bad mood. Honesty opens you up to unlimited possibilities to learn new patterns. You might be surprised what comes forth.

    I have discovered these simple truths over the years, especially during the course of my Feldenkrais training.  But every now and then I can still get a little lost and as a result get in my own way. Sometimes even a bad day is full of opportunities to learn.

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP