Back to Blooma

Blooma was born (I think), right around the time my only child was born, in the fall of 2007. I first discovered Blooma in early 2009 when a friend invited Johan and me to try a BYOB yoga class. Johan was just about 1 and we had a grand old time. While at the studio, I saw that Early Bird Yoga was offered at 6 a.m. Because I have to work at 7:30 a.m., I thought this class was perfect for me and began attending regularly on Tuesdays and Thursdays. This worked out because Eduardo would stay with Johan while I was at class. I found my time at Blooma physically, emotionally, and spiritually fulfilling. I was a healthier person and better mom because of it.

Then life, as it does sometimes, threw me a curve ball. In the fall of 2010, my marriage was ending. I sought solace on my mat at my Early Bird classes. I sometimes crumbled into child’s pose, weeping. The amazing instructors helped me through a most difficult time. They didn’t ask questions or pry, just lingered a bit longer during hands-on adjustments and communicated their support non-verbally. My time at Blooma on my mat was respite during that difficult journey.

Some months later, my parenting situation made it impossible for me to continue with Early Bird classes. I was a single parent with no one to watch Johan  in the early morning hours. I continued my yoga practice at another studio and at home, but always missed the early class. Arriving in the dark, watching the sun come up to greet the Minneapolis morning in a space that I found supportive and non-threatening, and that helped me grow in my practice, enhancing my life in every way. I was sad to walk away from Blooma.

Then, something wonderful happened. A new person entered my life. I told Andrew about Blooma and the ways it had been there for me in good times and in bad. And, because just when you think life is done twisting, it finds new ways to surprise you, today I returned to Blooma after over a year hiatus. It was emotional for me to return. My head was flooded with memories: the first time Johan and I entered the studio; the wonderful music during the early bird practice; the tears I cried in front of other yogis as I navigated divorce and single motherhood. As I unrolled my mat and began practice, it was like meeting an old friend. We’ve both changed, but not too much. We recognized each other at once, greeted each other warmly, and fell back into our familiar dance. My body and mind and soul feel rejuvenated after the class this morning. I can’t wait for next week. We have some catching up to do.

Moral Test

Today when leaving the grocery store, another driver hit my car. I had backed out and was stopped, and he hit the rear of my car. My back bumper is pretty scuffed up. I got out of my car and a kid came over and said his parents don't speak English. He was Latino. I walked over to his parents and said I speak Spanish. The woman was crying. There were a couple more kids in the back seat, including a baby. The man who hit my car told me he and his family were tourists (not true) and so he doesn't have a Minnesota license or insurance (probably very true.) Knowing plenty about insurance, car accidents and immigration, I was pretty sure that this was an undocumented family driving without insurance out of necessity. If I called the police, the man would get a ticket for driving without insurance and possibly be turned over to immigration authorities. He would likely face deportation or voluntary departure. His wife would be left alone with 3 kids until she could come up with the money to reunite the family. It could take years. Over a minor scuff on my car. So, I told him everything was fine and we went our separate ways. It will probably cost $800 to get a new bumper but it just seems wrong to risk tearing a family apart over a car bumper. I would have always wondered what happened to that family if I had forced them to interact with the police. For me, it's just money- a minor setback in saving for my next trip- but really just a blip on the screen. And this, my friends, is a great example of how broken immigration laws are. Undocumented people can't get drivers licenses. If you don't have a license, you can't buy insurance. If you get in an accident, you face criminal sanctions and huge financial consequences for not having insurance. I, for one, won't be part of it. Now. Anybody know of a good body shop?

Rock the Garden

More to come on Africa, but for today, I want to remember Rock the Garden 2012 that Andrew and I attended last Saturday.  It was an Ode to Minneapolis.  A perfect summer day- it started out hot and humid, and transitioned to this wonderful cool breeze by sunset.  The Minneapolis food trucks were all around (hello Korean BBQ Banh Mi, will you be my best friend?) and local vodka was served with fruit punch. 

Andrew and I spent much of the day with Dessa and her boy, at least during the part where she wasn't kicking ass and taking names on stage.  After Doomtree's performance, we toasted the fact that they "won Rock the Garden" with some of that Vodka and fruit punch.  And then some more.  Aaaaand maybe a little more.

Just as afternoon turned to dusk, Trampled by Turtles took the stage.  Beautiful sounds with a beautiful backdrop.  We could see the Basilica, the Cherry and the Spoon, and much of the downtown skyline as we sat on a blanket on a hill in my favorite city.

The couple sitting directly in front of us most of the day was probably 65 or 70 years old.  They wore jeans and Chacos and the man had a Jansport backpack with buttons like "Save Darfur,"  "End Human Trafficking," and "Vote No on the Anti-Marriage Amendment."   They were happy and affectionate.  I kept wanting to tell them that I hope I'm just like them when I'm old, but there didn't seem to be an appropriate way to do that without creating much awkwardness.  So I just told Andrew and our friends.

I've been loving this video that the Walker Art Center put together which captures this lovely day so well. 

Under African Skies

It’s hard to believe it was almost a month ago that we left for “A Walk on the Wild Side: Los 4 Hermanos.” It would be a 300 page book to tell every story in detail (or one blockbuster movie coming to a theater near you in summer 2012.) Over the next couple months, I will share some highlights.

There was one afternoon in Kruger Park that we went on a game drive. Those of us not driving had imbibed just a couple beers. It was Sarah’s birthday. It was unseasonably warm and the sun shone bright. We drove through the Savannah listening to “Graceland.” That album, by the way, is an Opus.

I looked out the window, saw different varieties of antelope leap through the grasses, felt the warm wind whip my hair around, and reveled in the yellow-orange glow of the sun surrounding me. I looked into the car and saw my three best friends all around me. We laughed, talked, and made merry.

I thought to myself, who in the world is luckier than me? Pretty clear that the answer is no one.

Here are a few photos from that extraordinary afternoon.

10 days!

Cultural Weekend

This weekend was the highly anticipated (at least by Andrew and me) Cultural Weekend. Two evenings, two shows, two music fans.

Friday started with a quick dinner at Salut St. Paul before heading to St. Catherine’s to see Dessa and Company. I remember seeing Joan Baez at the O’Shaughnessy Theater in high school. That was where I first heard Dar Williams. It’s an awesome venue, and full of good memories from that concert so many years ago. As everyone who reads this blog already knows, Dessa was one of my closest friends in high school, long before she was Dessa. I own her cds but have not seen her perform live since one of the talent shows at Southwest. (Aside: What the hell were those musical talent shows called?) Well, at the risk of sounding cheesy, her performance was breathtaking. When she took her heels off early in the show, I found myself chortling that she always has preferred to be barefoot and her feet look just like they did in the mid-90s. Yeah, weird, probably, but we spent a lot of time together and I remember her feet. The girl is undeniably talented and I feel so happy for her.

Another highlight of the evening was Alexei’s performance. He was at the O’Shaughnessy as a special guest. It had been a long time since I’d seen him on stage. However, it felt less nostalgic than seeing Dessa since I spend time with Alexei off stage on a fairly regular basis. He performed two pieces, one of which was a beautiful but haunting, and emotionally charged dedication to his mom. I felt myself let go of a breath I didn't know I was holding when it ended. The other was a collaboration with Aby Wolf that was whimsical, funny, and fun. I think it’s called “Boom box.” I couldn’t find it on YouTube but I’m sure it will be up at some point and highly recommend finding it.

The only part of Friday’s night’s show I didn’t love was Black Blondie. Some of it was ok, but didn’t fit with the tone of everything else going on. Some of it was, frankly, terrible. One member of the band is also a Southwest graduate and I’m not trying to be a hater, but to my ears it was a blemish on an otherwise flawless evening of music.

After the concert, we went back to my house, where I made Brianna and Andrew look through the Southwest 1999 yearbook. Don’t worry- I also provided them with booze.

On Saturday night, we went to see Counting Crows, which was a mediocre show. With a band like that, I expected them to play at least half the tracks from “August and Everything After.” Instead, they played a lot of songs I’d never heard and did not put on a particularly inspired performance. I did enjoy the Amaretto I drank during the show. Andrew pointed out that we might have a different perspective on it had we not seen it the night after such an incredible performance by local artists who also are friends of mine. Sarah called me out for bias. The best part of the CC show was this blonde girl in the front row who danced with total uninhibited joy to every single song. I kept looking at her (not in a creepy way, I was all the way in the balcony!) and smiling. It seemed like she must feel about the Counting Crows the way I feel about the Bangles. At least, I hope so. I hope that was the best night of her whole damn life, seeing her favorite band in the front row.

It’s pretty fantastic to go to shows on a regular basis. Next up is likely a Mariachi band at the Cinco de Mayo festival, which will not be reviewed on this blog, but will surely be accompanied by some noteworthy tacos.

*Update: City Pages disagrees with my assessment of Black Blondie.  While it's true the crowd really loved the gospel singer, and he certainly has a great voice, the show stealing belonged to Dessa and Alexei.  No bias whatsoever.

Good Friday

One thing I always think about on Good Friday is how, if you are Christian, that Jesus Christ's conviction and crucifixion is the first recorded wrongful conviction. It would be the first record of an innocent man being put to death; proof of the inherent and unavoidable imperfect administration of the death penalty.

I can't wrap my head around how a person could support the death penalty anyway, but the fact that many of the states that impose the death penalty are full of "Christians" seems to me quite ironic.

Anyway, we are dyeing Easter eggs tonight. And I suppose that creepy bunny might bring Johan some chocolate on Sunday.