Chevy 3600 #500wordsaday

Today's story was a challenge for me. My random pick of a person to meet happened in an elevator. Cliché' I know!  When I asked him to tell me something about himself that no one knows, without hesitation he stated, "I have a traumatic brain injury!"  GULP! Those of you who know my life story know how close this hits to home.  I'm had a hard time getting fiction on this one as my own fathers story keeps lending its details. The divine has a very quirky sense of humor sometimes.  Just like my dad!

I had to pull from my deepest creative space, a story that is not my own, yet the one the divine desires me to tell. It was odd that as I struggled with this today, I parked next to THIS truck! The one my grandfather, my father's father owned. The truck we played in most of our childhood. I know its deepest secrets well. Much to my pleasure, this story flowed easily once I embarked on the journey. Please share in my fear and accomplishments of day 2 #500wordsaday

I am totally enjoying being out of my comfort zone right now!

Day 2

#500wordsaday #Fiction

Chevy 3600

It was a stormy day in Glendale, California. He knew in his mind that this was unusual but he wasn't quite sure why. He sat in the front seat of his 3600 Chevy wondering why it all felt familiar yet so far away from where he knew he was supposed to be. He felt his heart beat a little faster as he placed his hand on the gear shift that went from the floorboard to his clammy grip. The ball at the top of the shift said he had 4 directions he could go but his hand remained stiff as he didn't know which number to choose. He felt as if he was making life decisions but that wasn't entirely true. He didn't know the truth of anything anymore. He didn't even really know how he got to be sitting where he was yet he knew he just arrived.

Like flashes of the lightening in the sky, so too did he feel a flash in memory. He knew he recollected every single flash that came through his mind but they were moving too fast for his mind to grasp the facts. The thunder would happen, he would jolt from a thought and then as the lightening hit so did his next memory. He couldn't grasp why he was so confused. The rain began to pour on the shattered windshield just as the tears of frustration began to stream down his face. Again, he knew the emotion was unclear but it felt so good to let it flow. It did not matter. He just had to let it out. As a cleansing but it was mostly out of his control. He didn't feel sad, but the tears kept coming. He was frustrated, yes, but he knew better than to cry from frustration. His present cognition said stop but his primal brain allowed it to continue.

He flashed to the moment of the red light turning green, he pressed the accelerator to cross the intersection like a school boy in all his glory of his first peel out. He felt the joy of the rubber meeting the street as he popped the clutch of his suped up Chevy.  He was proud of his truck. He would most likely  treat it better than he treated most of his girlfriends. His memory goes blank. Frustration returns. "Why can't I remember the smell of the rubber. Why can't I remember what happens next?"

 He returns to his present moment, only now his hands are clenching the steering wheel that is slightly cocked off to the right as though that were the direction he was heading. The driver's door is sawed open by some animal of a metal beast that exposed the interior like an annoying savage exposes its prey. "Who or what would do that to such a beautiful truck?" he thought.

No one really talks about what happened. No one wants to relive the horror of his condition. He reaches his hand up to the scar on the side of his head, now overgrown with hair but separated by the details of his demise. His right hand cannot reach that far so he must use his left.  And actually, his whole  right side is a bit weak and lame. This is most maddening  as he use to be right handed. How will he ever shift the gear of his beloved again. He finds it difficult to focus on the scar dug into his head and the desire to work his right hand. He struggles to raise his right hand off the steering wheel  but needs to use his other hand to lift it. Too much going on. He surrenders, relaxes back into the blood stained leather upholstery. Defeated, he allows his head to turn to the left, gazing through the claws of the metal shrapnel. Tears roll down his face once more, the storm continues, the thunder roars, the lightening flashes before him and he remembers. Just one more piece.

He grabbed the faded pinkish, red oil cloth that was stuffed low into the floor board near the end of the gear shift and wiped his tears. He looked up into the blotted rear view mirror to catch his gaze and saw the oil from the vintage truck smeared across his high cheekbones. He thought to himself, I am a warrior!

 

Aisle 8 #500wordsaday

I have joined a challenge in hopes to write more and become inspired to finish my books. 

Although this has nothing to do with my book, I hope you enjoy it. 

THIS story is my first attempt at FICTION since grade school. 

~Jolie

 

Day 1 

#500wordsaday

 Aisle 8

He stepped onto the train with his hair disheveled more than usual today. He wasn't sure why but he just didn't seem to care anymore. He spilled his green tea down his neutral colored overcoat as he plopped his now overweight body onto the gum stained seat. He always drank green tea now. His wife says it is healthy for him. He preferred coffee but the morning discussions started to wear him down. So he did  as he was told and just drank the watered down leaves of a plant.

He remembers his dad doing what he was told as well. He always wondered why he never stood up for himself. His dad was a man of stature and confidence yet he never really got to eat what he wanted or go where he wanted unless it was his moms idea. Just like his dad, he really wanted to have a steak on a Friday, but he smiled through the plate of quinoa and roasted vegetables lined with baked tofu. He would however, sneak a burger from the fast food joint around the corner on his way home on occasion, just like his dad taught him to. 

His wife was a lovely lady. She did all the right things to make their family look right in the eyes of the neighbors. Not in a keeping up with the Jones' kind of way, but in the right way that a good woman was supposed to do. She was kind and she was well put together. He just often felt like he was living in a other persons world of rules and silly expectations that didn't fit with his true identity. He loved her. But today may have been the last time he could sip that green tea without resentment. He really wanted that dark coffee with creamer. Not the fake stuff either. The real thing. Maybe even whipping cream with the layer of oil on top as it melted into the abyss of the aroma, that surprisingly one could see. He could actually taste that coffee in his next sip off the plastic travel mug his wife so lovingly filled for him every morning with that damn green tea. He closed his eyes and imagined the delight of that first taste of Italian roast, which interestingly enough made him think of his Italian leather shoes that his wife picked out. He didn't even really like the shoes at the time.

He opened his eyes gazing through his bangs that were now too long. He dozed off in his thoughts for a moment, thinking to himself, I should have listened to my wife and gotten that haircut last week. He came back to his half blocked view. He could barely make her out as his haze of morning fog wasn't quite gone as green tea never really made that moment bearable. But there she was. She was well put together. Her dark blue linen dress was tight and outlining every curve yet not too sexy, only in his mind. She had just the right amount of make-up and she seemed to be organized in her morning ritual of notes, emails and correspondences prior to her arrival. He sank a little lower wondering how she could be so perfect. He looked upon her with his desire of a man yet in envy of her power. Wishing he had that sort of power and that his wife had that sort of style. He dreamed of how he would caress her beautiful, firm breast underneath the conference table. He was aroused deeper with excitement when he imagined nearly getting caught by his assistant Betty, the 68 year old woman who would only leave his side for death. What would betty think? He didn't care in that moment and wondered why he would even question it. He returned to dwell on the beauty of her long locks perfectly coiffed and breath in her imaginable smell of sweet mango that overwhelmed him with a deep sensation of satisfaction.

The train hit the curve at D street with that same usual screech he heard every morning at this time of his commute. The train slowed, forcing his head to jolt slightly, awakening him from his morning delight. He focused his gaze once more to catch her off centered smile as though she knew his thoughts. He tucked his head back down returning to what he only knew as himself, the misplaced,  scraggly self that desired to be happier and more full of life. More organized like the beauty in front of him on the rear facing seat of aisle 8 heading downtown.

Day after day he returned to the train searching for love in aisle 8. Each day he shifted his awareness to be just a little more desirable to the woman who caught his attention despite his lack of self esteem and lust for living. He got that haircut that his wife suggested. He stood tall at the coffee maker that next morning and shared with his wife his desire to have just one vice that made him feel whole. He changed his over coat to a stylish looking Italian cut to match the shoes his wife swore made him stand taller. He boarded that train again and again to only be disappointed that she was not there. Was she only a figment of his imagination? Why did she not appear when he was now ready to be the man that could rock her world underneath that conference table. He was willing to risk all that he had at home in his expensive suburban life to find that strength and style that she showed him. She was not there. Again. And Again. Not there. His head began to hang a little lower each day, once again.

He stepped off the train early on a Friday afternoon one week playing hooky from his afternoon meeting. Still looking all the fabulous as he would have wanted the Aisle 8 angel to have seen him, yet his inner strength still felt a little weak. He decided to walk pass the cafe in his quaint little town just 40 minutes out of the hip downtown area where he spent his work week. As he passed the cafe window he saw his reflection. Why didn't the way he felt inside match this handsome reflection? And then into focus like a movie, there she was, THAT dress! He recognized her dress. The blue linen dress of the angel in aisle 8. There she was! She was sitting there with her friends sharing a glass of champagne. She lifted it to her lips and as she cocked her head slightly toward him, he saw her in full view for who she was. He was stunned at first. But then it all made sense. His wife caught his flirtatious gaze and smiled that smile she only ever gave him. It was the smile he knew in his heart. And much to his comedic inner voice, the song began to play in his head...................
If you like pina coladas.........

The art of Listening for Nature's Whisper~Restorative Yoga Teacher Training

As I lay in my very first yoga class ever, I found my mind racing. And as I relaxed my mind into the sound of the teachers voice and the rhythm of my breath I began to feel the expansion of fear in my throat followed by a well of tears that never seemed to end for the next three months. Once I began to make it through a yoga class without tears, I then wondered what was going wrong? Why was I no longer feeling this overwhelming sense of relief from pain, fear and discomfort that had embodied me for so long? Where was this pain now? Why was yoga no longer working.

I began to research the body deeply on the physical, spiritual and energetic level. I came across the cellular respiration in a biology class that seemed to begin to bring it all together. It made perfect sense! All these years of pain collecting in every cell of my body, all the moments of fear residual riding the cell to the next level of memory recollection and all the moments of discomfort that my body stored away so that in that one moment of release, I would recollect its truth, reschedule it to a space of happiness, balance and ease and place it back into the next cell for moving forward in life with joy!

I began to meditate on the possibilities of changing the DNA. If we can change our cells to have negative energy, then surely it is possible to mutate it back in the other direction, no? YES! I believe this is possible. I began to find that truth through positive speech to myself, positive affirmations. To that place in the mind that had the power. That is where I wanted to be so my body would follow. I wanted a straight forward way to see that right in front of me. Of course that doesn't happen, and so my workshop, later turned Yoga Teacher Training, Listening for Nature's Whisper was born. The path of Listening for Nature's Whisper is a powerful path because when you are still enough, quiet enough and willing enough, the divine speaks through you and the truth of your path, healthy body and sane mind becomes the way of who you are meant to be in this moment and life.

Join me in the journey of recollection of your true balanced self and obtain the power through postures, breath, the wisdom of the nervous system and stillness of the mind to clearly hear Nature's Whisper. From this clear space you will fully embody the wisdom to carry forward your passion at a deeper level to others.

Listening for Nature's Whisper~Restorative Yoga Teacher Training is a 100 hour course and is open to current yoga teachers seeking deeper knowledge and certification.The training consists of 100 hours over a 3 month period designed to provide space for growth and integration. The ONE weekend a month “intensives” encourages deeper studies and offers self study for practicum. Each “Intensive” will be dedicated to an area of yogic practices which form a mandala of wisdom, intuition, knowledge and experience at the deepest levels of the body, spirit and mind as well as methodology and anatomy. 100 hours of study will be applicable to 500 hour certification.
Three weekends ~ 100 hours
Friday, Saturday & Sunday 8am-6pm
more information here

Jolie Cash, is the founder, director and senior teacher of Nature’s Whisper School of Yoga  Jolie is a certified with Tantra Yoga International at the 500 hour level and has over 2,000 + hours of training far exceeding the standards and requirements of National Registration agencies. Jolie is also the founder of Nature’s Whisper Natural Herb products and Hot Mama Yoga. She is committed to the empowerment of all beings through the teachings of authenticity and using all of life’s lessons & pleasures for spiritual growth.
More About Jolie for more information.

For more information about Nature's Whisper School of Yoga, please visit us here or contact Jolie Cash directly by email

All Nature's Whisper School of Yoga Teacher Trainings are by application process. You may download an application here

Nature's Whisper School of Yoga,4205 Park Blvd.,San Diego, CA 92103

The History behind The Unconventional Yogini 200 hour Yeacher Training

As I prepare to enter my 15th year of teaching 200 hour Yoga Teacher Trainings, I would like to share the story of what drives my passion to teach Teacher Trainings. I take much ownership in the small numbers and interview process that we hold in high regard at Nature's Whisper. We are not prepared to crank out teachers for the sake of money or ego, yet we purposefully keep our trainings small and with high integrity of what the path of a teacher and practitioner of life really is.......... 

~The Unconventional Yogini, 100 hours: Before You Step on the Mat and 100 hours: Teaching Your Authentic Path

May all beings who need and desire this training find their way here!

The Unconventional Yogini

The Unconventional Yogini began in 1994 before the inception Nature’s Whisper Yoga .
It really began March 4th, 1968 the day Jolie Cash was born. But the path
wasn’t revealed in consciousness until 1994 when the director of Nature’s
Whisper Yoga found herself flattened to the earth by low self esteem, drug use and
self sabotage. It was these neurosis’ that lead to attacks of anxiety that
ultimately lead to what western medicine called a nervous breakdown resulting in “craziness”.
It was through the practices that will be set forth in this training, that the balance and
understanding of energy in the body came to fruition. It was the fruits of this path
that lead Jolie to the desire to share this path, the unconventional way of a yogini,
of how to live in a conventional world.

The Unconventional Yogini is a path of awakening the true self in a way that is
not so “normal” to the standards of most spiritual seekers. It is of the Tantric
school that explains, everything we experience in life is the path to enlightenment.
There is no wrong turn. Some paths may lead to forks in the road that will take a
while longer or may be a bit rockier than the other. The Unconventional Yogini teaches
the understanding that all paths lead us to the divine self, and with that recognized,
 a right to live who we are in the most authentic way.

The Unconventional Yogini is the path of discovery of the authentic self. It is a
path of  understanding that not all beings may be ready for the unusual way in which we
recognize ourselves. It is the path of acceptance into the way that things are even
when they seem dark and “wrong”. The Unconventional Yogini is not a fix to
anything wrong. It is a recollection of who we are and the connection to the energy
in our physical bodies which leads us to the ultimate connection to the divine.
It is the vehicle to tap into the connection of that divine on this earth while we are
occupying our physical body and through our intuition we hear the divine guidance
loud and clear. It is only when we clear those channels that we may hear that guidance.
The Unconventional Yogini is a physical path of opening the heart, body and mind
so that we may become a clear vehicle and through that clarity we may lead others
to the light of spirituality. It is through the light that we all will recognize and accept
the dark with as much beauty as we see the light.

The Unconventional Yogini is ultimately a path of true love, acceptance, recognition        
and receptivity of our most authentic self, the good the bad and the dirty.

WONT YOU JOIN ME IN THIS JOURNEY?

In love and juicy adventures.
Namaste
Jolie Cash
director, Nature's Whisper School of Yoga

Plan your Postpartum Party

We are so enthusiastic to announce Nikki Helms as our resident Postpartum Extraordinaire!

Nikki will be taking over Maiden to Mother, the free new mama support group that happens at Nature's Whisper every Friday at 12:30pm in the absence of Surya's sabbatical.

 Nikki is also leading an upcoming workshop called Practically Postpartum, a workshop to prepare the new mama for what awaits her after she welcomes her new bundle of joy.

Here, Nikki shares all the fun of planning for a successful postpartum period with her latest blog to support her upcoming workshop at Nature's Whisper Yoga. Enjoy her wisdom!

 Plan your Postpartum Party

 by Nikki Helms

So, here you are. 

You’re in the 3^rd trimester of your pregnancy, you’re feeling pretty good, you feel prepared for labor and birth (or you’re almost there…) and now, you’re waiting for one of the most important guests of your life to arrive.

Have you prepared for your postpartum experience?

I like to tell families to prepare for the post-birth time like they would prepare for a party.  Who do you want to invite?  What do you want them to bring?  Who’s going to help you clean up?  As important as it is to prepare for your labor-time and the imminent birth of your baby, it’s just as important to give some energy and thought to what happens once you get home with the latest addition to your family.  If you’ve ever thrown a party, it’s much the same mentality. 

What are we celebrating?

A new baby, of course!  You’ll want to keep your home relatively calm, but not necessarily quiet.  The womb is one of the noisiest places on earth.  The decibel level produced by your intestines moving along, the stomach digesting, the sound of the blood running through your veins, has been estimated to be nearly 90dB.  The noises your baby hears outside the womb, however, should be the normal sounds of your home.  Don’t strain to be quiet, but loud sudden noises can surprise your newborn and potentially wake them.  Keeping your home at its regular noise level will actually help your baby to be able to sleep through just about anything later on in their infancy. So party on Wayne, but keep it reasonable.  The loving, positive energy in your home is just as important as the loving, positive noise level. 

Who’s coming? (And how long are they staying?)

Who do you want to visit you when you get home?  You’ll want to have people around you that will be supportive and helpful.  If you think that the person you have in mind may not support the vision of what you want your postpartum period to look like, you may want to reconsider inviting them over for the first couple of weeks.  The emotional state that you could be in may likely be less able to be flexible and less willing to accept and work around certain, er, eccentricities or difficulties with personalities.  Has that person had children of their own or seen you in a really emotional state?  You will need to be able to be your authentic post-pregnancy self around your visitors, even if the version of yourself that they get is a leaky-boobed, exhausted mess.  Also, make sure to give yourself a break once in a while.  As much as people want to come and visit, you’d be surprised how understanding they can be when you tell them that you’re really not ready to have anyone over or that you’ve had visitors all day and you’re just too tired.  They’ll be happy to come another time.

What’s to eat?

Are visiting guests planning on helping with meal preparation?  You’ll want to be sure that they’re familiar with the layout of your home, where you keep things, and any particular dietary restrictions that you may have (gluten-free, vegan, caffeine) if they’re going to be assisting in preparing meals for your recovery period.  They’ll also need to know (as will you) what types of foods give you gas (sexy!) or may irritate your stomach, as that food will be going into your breast milk and may cause the same symptoms for your little one.  If you don’t have anyone coming over to prepare food at home for you, consider going the route of having friends bring food for you.  Scheduling is easy when you’re able to use sites like takethemameal.com or signupgenius.com.  Set up a time period where you’d love to have someone come over and bring food, send out the schedule to your friends, and let them work it out online.

What’s to drink?

If you’re breastfeeding, you’ll need to make sure that you stay super hydrated.  I, for one, despise drinking plain water.  Just the other day, however, I found a great infusion cold-cup at Bed Bath & Beyond.  It’s got a little container inside the cup that can hold citrus or crushed mint leaves or cilantro and makes plain cold water much more palatable.  Water is crucial to your breast milk output and also, helps your body to recover from your birth, replenishing fluids that may have been lost.  Juice is always great as well, lots of vitamin C and antioxidants in grape juice, blueberry juice and acai.  Tea also, can be a great hydrator, iced or hot, just keep drinking!  Make a game of it!  Every time someone mentions the word “baby” you take a drink.  It may be difficult with everything else you’ve got going on, but you’ll be glad you did.  Even if you’re not breastfeeding, your hydration is integral to your healing.

Who’s helping to clean up?

Don’t be afraid to ask for help.  When someone asks what they can do, TELL THEM. You’d be really surprised how many people, when asking what they can do to help, are really willing to help.  They just need some direction and guidance on what to do.  If you don’t mind directing traffic from the sofa, you can get a lot done.  That’s a lot less for you to worry about while you’re at home with baby. 

·         “I’d love it if you could bring that laundry in for me. Let’s sit here and fold it together while you regale me with tales of the outside world.”

·         “I’m so glad you were able to come and visit.  Oo!  One last thing. Would you mind taking the garbage out when you go to your car?”

·         “Could you chuck those few dishes into the dishwasher?”

·         “Would you mind bringing me some Ben & Jerry’s Peach Cobbler ice cream when you come over?  I LOVE that stuff.”

·         “Could you run the vacuum?”

·         “Would you mind taking Bodhi out for a walk?  He’s going stir crazy in here.”

The dishes won’t pile up, the laundry will get folded (eventually) and hey, somebody’s coming to visit AND bringing ice cream?  WIN WIN!  Also, please consider having a cleaning person come in for the last trimester of your pregnancy.  I’m not an OCD clean freak, I keep my home as clean as I can, but my husband’s not the best house cleaner.  AT ALL.  He’ll even tell you that.  So when he suggested that we hire a cleaning lady to come in every other week, I was completely offended, mildly insulted and totally relieved.  As I huffed and puffed my way around the bottom of the toilet in my 3^rd trimester, I prayed that some angel would come in and do this so that I could get off my knees, stop compressing my diaphragm and breathe again.  I was nearly brought to tears when I came home with a fresh, new baby, my husband opened the door to our apartment, and the scent of Fabuloso and bleach wafted out into the hallway.  The cleaning lady had been there that morning and cleaned while my husband had gone to fetch me at the hospital.  Hallelujah!

Your postpartum time at home, coming together as a family, can only be enhanced by the inclusion of your family and friends.  Postpartum is just like many other scenarios that can be unfamiliar - you’ll feel better if you have a plan in place.  Give some thought ahead of time about what that will look like and I guarantee you that you’ll be glad that you did.  But, just like your birth plan, be prepared also to be flexible, move some things around or eliminate a few things altogether.  The new configuration of your family structure will be warm, comfortable and loving because you make it that way whether or not you have clean socks.

 

To register or to find out more about Practically Postpartum's upcoming workshop with Nikki Helms, visit here