Home

Home is not warmth

Home is not happiness, or tears, or excitement

It's not the smell of chocolate chip cookies

Or fresh cut grass

It's not the owls hooting or the sound of traffic

Home is not warm summer breeze cutting through the living room

Home is not fresh cut watermelon

It's not where you read by hallway light way after bedtime

Home is not music 

Home is not a bike ride around the neighborhood

And it's not necessarily where your heart is

Home is not early mornings or late nights

Home is not the stars that illuminate the night sky

It's not mac and cheese with hot dogs and it's not your first filet minon

Home is not a flurry of snow or the crash of thunder

Home is not a flickering light or a patch of roses

It's not poker nights, sleepovers or movies

Home is not the books you alphabetize or the clothes you sort in the closet

Home is not the nooks and crannies you explored as a child

Home is a word

It's just a word

It doesn't mean anything unless you let it

A New Trip, A New Blog

This summer I'll be heading to New York City! Woohoo!

For updates including planning as well as crazy exploits from the trip, follow my new blog: Maya in New York.

Expect lots of trip updates there (I even promise pictures!), as well as a more frequent update of this bad boy. I'm sure skipping around a crazy city is going to spawn lots of genius thoughts.

On Owning Cool Things

First, the circumstances in which these thoughts came about: my 6 year old Toshiba laptop mostly runs like a charm. Sure, the right clicker didn't work, and it occasionally froze, but overall all was good. Then I got a virus. This one. Ugh! I was locked out of my computer, frustrated and out of patience. I'd been thinking for a while about getting a new laptop for law school, and decided it was finally time to pick up a Mac - specifically, the MacBook Air (13 in., 256 GB, oh yeah).

Woohoo!

Note: I also recently bought a Google Nexus 4, so I've got some sweet new tech stacking up.

My boyfriend made a comment this morning (the morning after I bought computer): "It's so cool that you have this stuff," in reference to my new phone and new computer.

I paused to think for a second, then responded with a comment about how that sort of bothered me. I felt like his comment had unintentionally defined me by the things I own. That bothers me for a few reasons.

This may or may not be me. Just saying.

1. In the case of being a Mac or Google person - I think those labels are dumb. I wouldn't have bought a MacBook Air if I didn't believe it were the best product for my needs. I don't like buying things for their label, be it a purse or a computer. I did the research, I feel confident in my purchase regardless of the store I bought it from (Slight tangent - you can actually get student discounts in person at the Apple Store, not just online. I'm glad I found that out!).

2. I have joked about "going to the dark side," or being one of those Mac hipsters. Now that I own a Mac, I realize how much I hate that concept. I hereby vow to not judge books by their covers in this regard, and try to not make assumptions about people just because they use a certain brand of technology. I know I definitely do not identify with the hipster counter-culture stereotype that comes with storing your MacBook Air in your Etsy-sold bag, while walking around in skinny jeans and sporting round, thick-rimmed glasses. Because those are the things I do, and I think it's awesome.

3. I've said in the past I thought it was cool that we have certain items for the gym in our garage, like rubber plates, and two barbells. What I really meant was I think it's cool that my boyfriend made the decision to invest his money in those things, thus improving my experience in a place I spend a decent amount of time. Anyone could have spent the same amount of money to get those items, but he actually did it.

Thesis: Regardless of what you actually purchase, it's just money that is now tied up in an item. It's not the item that makes you cool - it's the decision to get it. 

Get Ready for Random

For a long time, I've been under the impression that a blog should have some consistent theme. If you have good enough ideas to post online for others to view, it's likely you will appeal to a certain audience. For example, someone blogging about fashion is likely to gain the following of a specific demographic. That following is likely different than the average person reading a weightlifting blog.

For a while, I have written with a certain audience in mind: my peers. Average 20-something-year-olds who are in to sports and could probably be considered average "young professionals." With every post, I have pictured a person like this reading it, and tried to use a certain style to cater to this imaginary reader. I consider what would make them smile, gasp in shock, etc. This is a skill worth practicing in any public writing, and one I have found carried over well to when I was writing at Skyd.

But I digress - my real point is I no longer care about who is reading this. How I define my audience has shifted, though it's possible the actual readers who fall within that definition stay the same. From now on, my target audience is those who care about what I think. 

I have so many random thoughts that pop in my head on a daily basis. So many of those would make good blog posts, but I haven't really considered this blog an outlet for most of those thoughts. The other day I decided that was dumb. I have good thoughts that I believe are worth sharing, and so from now on, I intend to do so. Some posts may be provocative, controversial or downright boring to you. If you have a problem with that, too bad, it's my blog.

Get ready for random, loyal readers. That's about all you can expect.

On Getting to "The Zone"

Heart pounding. Sweat dripping. Breath is heavy, or non-existent. Focus is stuck on that one little point of light in front of you. A moment of stillness...

An explosion! Movement at the speed of light. Force applied so hard you feel like your body might break, but it doesn't.

And then it's over. Awareness of things that surround you starts to seep in. The cleansing, oh-so-good breath returns, invigorating your body with fresh oxygen.

But for that moment, be it a second or an hour-long moment, you are on a different level. I'm talking about being in the zone. I find it when I run repeated sprints. I find it near the second round of a Crossfit WOD. I find it when my lifts near my body weight, or when I am setting a new PR. Lately, I've been so glad to realize I have found it in yoga.

I recently purchased a LivingSocial deal at a hot yoga studio. Anyone who has researched the price of a yoga membership will know that $35 for a month of unlimited classes is a really good deal. I was in the mood for something new, and had heard yoga provided good balance to a heavy lifting schedule. And I was trying hot yoga, so at the very least I was guaranteed an hour of sweating. I thought to myself, "Why not? It's just a month. I'll go a couple times a week between my lifting days."

Om

Now, I can't get enough. Since last week I have gone to a class every day I have been in San Diego. I have tried Hatha and Vinyasa and the intro class. I have gone at 7 PM, 8:30 PM and 6 AM. I have been so pleasantly surprised that no matter what type of class or time I go, I find myself getting to my "zone" almost immediately. From the first relaxing child's pose to the last down dog, I am focused on myself, my breath, my intention. I love the idea of sharing my practice with my classmates. I love the help the instructor gives, reminding me of the power of superfriends. I love that it is not only acceptable but also praise-worthy to be at any stage of practice that one is capable of. It truly is non-competitive. With the sweat dripping I feel detoxified, powerful, serene. I feel like I can tackle anything. I walk out of every class with a huge smile on my face. Time passes so quickly in the zone, an hour of effort feels like a few minutes.

I'm sure at some point I will return to the heavy lifting, but for now, I am so content to ride the wave of yoga happiness. I feel pride that my strength training allows me to try different poses and to properly hold the chaturanga dandasana. I highly recommend giving it a try. You might be surprised at what you discover about yourself. I hope to see you in the studio, until then, Namaste.

On Decisions

Some decisions are easy. Yes, I would like to try skydiving. No, I don't want to wear that prom dress to the club. Of course I'd like seconds on your delicious homemade pie.

Some decisions are hard. Should I go heavy on the eye makeup or sport some red lipstick? What do I wear to the gym? Thin Mints or Trefoils?

But the hardest decisions to make are the ones you know are right, but will have incredibly painful consequences. These past couple weeks I have been faced with such a decision. I know the right answer, but I feel great sadness when I think of what it means.

This August, I will likely be attending law school somewhere. In hearing some circulating rumors of club tryouts and whatnot, I realized I needed to decide if I was going to play ultimate this summer. Immediately I knew what was going to happen. I'm moving to the Bay Area, after all, land of the amazing ultimate opportunities. I don't know if I could make a team that would go to Nationals but I could definitely make one that was more competitive than the past two I have played on in San Diego. I would enjoy meeting new people and making friends through the sport I spend the majority of my free time playing, writing about or thinking about.

And yet, I will not be playing this summer. I can't in good conscience pay a ton of money to law school and then commit my weekends and some weekday evenings to a team. It's not fair to the team I would play on for me to be distracted by school and it's no way to guarantee I get the most out of my education. I know that's the right thing for me to do. Ultimate isn't going anywhere. If anything, the opportunities to play competitively are becoming more available. But 2013 isn't my summer. I won't be playing. I won't be writing. I won't be travelling to amazing tournaments.

I know there's great leagues in San Francisco, and I can always play in the coming years. I just can't help feeling a painful loss when I read on Facebook about the excitement building for the Triple Crown Tour, or hear my friends talking about the tournaments they can't wait to attend. There's a real fear that if I don't play for a summer I'll be "out of the loop" or will find it difficult to return. That fear might be completely baseless, but it's there.

The choice to not play this summer has been one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make. And there's nothing much more to say about it than it totally sucks.