“Beauty of style and harmony and grace and good rhythm depend on simplicity.” – Plato
This gorgeous statement, by Plato, published onto delicious bottles of Green Supreme by Suja, could not ring anymore truer to the manner in which I live my life. It’s all very simple. And, apparently, it started at childhood. Last week, at a family wedding, my mother animated a story of how, at age five, I’d dress the Christmas tree with just one ornament, immediately losing interest, moving onto the next thing. She continued her story, describing that I’d decorate only one Easter egg, only one Valentine’s Day sugar cookie… and basically did this with every festive activity forevermore. I’d do one then move on. They thought, because my sisters went to decoration town, that something was wrong with me. Or, wrong with their parenting. But now they get it. I’m just a simple girl and lived my way, even as a child. Once I felt satisfied, there existed bigger (vegan) fish to fry. Here I am, with my mom at the wedding. She is so lovely. And oh I love my gold dress!
And here is my Christmas tree of this year. Well, it is the tree belonging to me and to my dog.
For you movie lovers out there, that is, indeed, Breakfast at Tiffany’s on the television. Oh wasn’t Audrey Hepburn wonderful? So proper. Animal rights activist. And she starred alongside Humphrey Bogart in the great Sabrina! Oh!
And for those of you focusing on the Christmas tree, those are exactly two ornaments! One for me. One for my dog. So very similar to the olden’ days as described by my mother, no? 😉
I’m so yes or no. Black or white. Minimal with passion. My only relationship ever with a man ended because I refused to debate things that didn’t matter. I will tell you my position, but I won’t be bothered to be persuaded to agree for the sake of agreeing for the sake of a relationship. Why?
This brings me to YOGA. In miss martini, I described that two huge reasons exist for accomplishing my yoga goals of this year. The first is the alcohol. And wow, what a whirlwind, unexpected thing that alcohol, or lack thereof, became. The second is Atlas Shrugged. I’m not even joking you.
Beginning my yoga practice in 2009, I fought quite hard, mentally speaking, about the spiritual part of the practice. And we’re not even brushing on the hail to Krishna / worship the Bhagavad Gita deepness. We’re simply talking the holier than thou yoga (housewife) zen thing happening all over Sewickley. I just didn’t get it. All exercise made me happy, yoga especially, but I thought it was overly dramatic, the manner in which yoga girls conducted themselves. Recently, I stood in line at Starbucks, listening to two 9:30am practitioners holding yoga mats, dripping sweat, ordering very complicated lattes. One girl said to the other, between scanning her iPhone and debating on the skim cow milk v. full fat soy, “I just think our schedules are incompatible at the moment. I’m going over there at 4am just to be with him for a few hours before he goes to work because he’s so busy at night with colleagues. Our schedules just don’t mesh. But I think we’re in love. Really, I do. Yoga is helping me to understand all of this.”
Oh for goodness sake.
Now please don’t get me wrong! I love that people can be deep and live as they see fit. BUT, that’s just not for me. It’s not my cup of tea. I prefer dandelion tea to rose tea. 🙂 Thus, in 2014, I sought to find MY yoga.
Over this past year, I pretty much accepted that I’d always fight against that la la la I’m spiritual because I do yoga mentality. Although I didn’t like it, I accepted it. Practicing maybe three or four days a week, I thought I’d found my groove. Until the day. Until the day that I read Atlas Shrugged, pages 585 – 586.
“Gilbert Keith-Worthing was Chalmer’s guest, for no reason that either of them could discover. He was a British novelist of world fame, who had been popular thirty years ago; since then, nobody bothered to read what he wrote, but everybody accepted him as a walking classic. He had been considered profound for uttering such things as: ‘Freedom? Do let’s stop talking about freedom. Freedom is impossible. Man can never be free of hunger, of cold, of disease, of physical accidents. He can never be free of the tyranny of nature. So why should he object to the tyranny of political dictatorship?’ When all of Europe put into practice the ideas which he had preached, he came to live in America. Through the years, his style of writing and his body had grown flabby. At seventy, he was an obese old man with retouched hair and a manner of scornful cynicism retouched by quotations from the yogis about the futility of human endeavor. Kip Chalmers had invited him, because it seemed to look distinguished. Gilbert Keith-Worthing had come along, because he had no particular place to go.”
“from the yogis about the futility of human endeavor.”
Never in my life have I read something that so accurately summarised my thoughts on how people in general perceive life. As futile. This is completely against everything for which I stand. And for Ayn Rand to have written of it specifically with regard to “the yogis,” crossing my brain in the year that I set forth to find my yoga is completely amazing! Mind boggling! And so perfect.
After I read this passage of Atlas Shrugged, I laughed for an hour. And then I got down and dirty on my yoga mat. Every. Single. Day. Since. I am a yoga girl again. Because I cut out the excessive alcohol. And because I read Atlas Shrugged for a second time. Because I was moved. It’s just that simple.
What an amazing year it’s been.
Have a good day, and namaste. 🙂