Friday, May 22, 2009

You must love me...is this thing on?

See this lady to my right? See what she's doing with her body? Yeah. I can do that. Except with a slightly different facial expression. And never on a beautiful beach. And also whilst being a lot less Asian. W00 w00t!

I discovered yoga back in April and I'll never go back to regular exercise again. I saw some chicks running past the Capitol yesterday in the midday heat, and I thought, "What are you doing?? It's hot outside! That is not fun! Why do you hate you?!" Yoga is pretty much the adult equivalent of the playtime of my childhood when my friends and I would figure out what we could make our bodies do and then end it all by taking a nap. Yoga is the same thing except in a studio with a peaceful lady who walks around and reminds you to breathe when you're trying to stand on your head (apparently breathing is one of the many essential wisdoms we forget as we grow older. That and, you know, loving unconditionally, believing in people, speaking only from the heart, etc. Oh, foolish children...). And it makes you feel sexxy. Namaste!

*Subject change*

I have this open door principle that I've been trying to live by recently. It's a new thing. Mostly it just involves me taking down all of my heart-barriers, letting it tell me who and when to love and at what decibel level, and then following through, regardless of possible outcomes. It's been a wild and crazy ride! But, I have discovered a group of people in my life, probably in all our lives, that have a mysterious and enviable power of others. Let's call them The Mentalists.

The Mentalists:
Throughout my life, even when my heart was surrounded by an impenetrable fortress fortified around the perimeter by a moat filled with alligators and moatmonsters whose diet consisted only of anything bearing the slightest semblance of human or animal love, there have been people who, seemingly through no conscious effort of their own, MAKE ME WANT TO GIVE THEM THINGS. Not just things, but time and effort and myself! And not just me, but other people, too, were somehow mind-controlled into pouring down blessings and gifts and showers of love upon these people. I remember in high school, I had this sweet little friend named Kristen and she was a Mentalist. One day I was sitting at home, and out of nowhere, I remembered that Kristen liked these pink cookies from the gas station. So I went out and bought her five of them (they each were the size of a small child's head) and brought them over to her house. WHY??!! I have friends in other parts of the world who routinely have people buy all their meals, give them free stuff, pepper them with random gifts. Obviously, there are fellas who have this control over me. Undoubtedly, my husband will turn out to be one of these sneaky Mentalists. I'll probably walk around the house naked in stilettos for the first year of our marriage, with home-cooked food in one hand and the latest Sports Illustrated in the other, not because I'll feel obligated, but because I'LL WANT TO! That's the craziest thing about The Mentalists. They don't illicit unwilling servitude. They force me into willing service. And I love every minute of it.

I am not one of The Mentalists. In fact, I think I may be the opposite of a Mentalist. The people in my life who should shower me with time and love and attention don't and never have. I'm not complaining, this is a reality that I came to terms with at the very instant a person becomes able to come to terms with things (probably roughly around potty-training age; I learned to go in the big girl potty AND that life isn't fair and never will be, so move on. It was a big day for me!). And I'm improving at self-showering. But not until today, when I was driving home from doing a favor for one of The Mentalists in my life, did I open my mind to the idea that one could learn to be a Mentalist!

This is my new goal. I don't know how I'm going to do it. I would ask Roxanne, who is One, but I don't think that The Mentalists even know how they do it. It's like something they just exude. Maybe it's body chemistry. Shoot! Well, we'll see. I'm simply going to start by sending silent messages from my cerebral cortex to others like lasers and see if that has any effect. "You want to buy me ice cream!" "You want to rub my back and cuddle with me!" "I'm the greatest thing that ever happened to you!" "Give my all your money!" Huh. Sounds like a power somewhat akin to The Force. Hm. Will explore this later.

If you find yourself in the near future wanting to send me things or to love me more deeply, don't resist. It just means it's working. And we'll both enjoy the process.

Holla back,
Kass