I have been in love with Chris Isaak since the first time I heard "Wicked Game" and saw him in concert in about 1990. So in a sense, I have known and loved him even longer than my husband (we met in '94). What is it about the power of a song sung with emotion (by a cute boy, although it also works for plain looking boys - i.e. Mick Jagger) that can make you fall in love with a stranger?
I once read a book called "This is Your Brain on Music" about the neurological pathways involved in making and listening to music. There was actually a chapter devoted to the topic of why girls fall for rock stars. It turns out that certain brain pathways involved in love and trust are turned on (no pun intended) by music. In addition, over history, humans have been conditioned to trust and love singers. In the 1600's in the low countries (Belgium and Denmark today), many paintings depicted singers with their flutes and lutes, which stood for sexual references. It is no different now.
In 2000, I went to the Kentucky Derby and Chris Isaak was there doing interviews on behalf of The Tonight Show. Being in love, I could not help but go up to him and introduce myself. We spoke for an uncomfortably long time (uncomfortable because my husband and several of his coworkers were waiting for me and watching me while we talked). We flirted shamelessly and I left with the satisfaction of knowing that if I was not married, I would have gotten to know more about Chris Isaak than his music. I thought (OK, fantasized) about this for WEEKS...
Last Saturday, Chris Isaak was in town and my husband and I went to see him. We had seats in the 10th row but ended up about 5 feet away from him when we were allowed to rush the stage. As soon as the crowd settled, he locked eyes with me for what was again an uncomfortably long time. He sang something like, "I want you, I need you," at least that's what I thought I heard. Every now and then through the show he'd sing a line or two to me (as well as other ladies in the audience, but that did not really register at the time.) Was there any recognition in his eyes? Who cares, it was a thrill nonetheless! After the show, my husband said, "I saw Chris Isaak checking you out and singing to you." I responded nonchalantly, "Oh, gee, did you notice that?" He said, "How could you not?" He smiled, happy that I got a such a kick out of seeing my crush.
Since the concert, I have been thinking a lot about why the experience was so much fun. I understand the brain pathway aspect of it. But it feels like more than that. What it is came to me this morning. It feels so good because you feel like you're in love for the first time. And that makes you feel YOUNG. So ladies, go out and fall in love with a Rock Star today - feel great and feel young! Time to go listen to "Wicked Game" again...
Monday, July 11, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
The Need to be Right
My husband did something really stupid this weekend. Maybe not Anthony Weiner level stupid, but irresponsible and something you usually only get away with once in life, if that. He called me and told me about it late Friday night when I was on the way home from a girls night out and in a very festive mood that ended abruptly. The fear in his voice scared me more than his actions. But the struggle I really had was with myself.
There was a part of me that wanted to yell at him, call him an idiot, and list all of the horrible outcomes and consequences that could and probably would happen. Each time I opened my mouth I had to close it again and stop myself. All I could get myself to say safely was "OK, what do you need for me to do?"
I had a long and mostly sleepless night to ponder this. I didn't care so much about what he did, as much as why I so strongly felt the need to make him feel really bad about it. I wanted to make him WRONG and in the process, make myself RIGHT. I wanted to punish him with words that would cause mental anguish. Why? And why do we, as wives, often do this about anything really, not just the big stuff?
Even though I stayed up all night thinking about it, I never came up with any answers. I did however, manage to stay in the present which helped me tremendously. I kept focusing on the fact that we were all safe and healthy and praying that there would be no terrible repercussions. When we talked about it the next day that nasty part of me wanted to come out again, but less so. What I saw in the light of day was that nothing I could say could make him feel worse - he was already suffering, he already felt like an idiot and he was already anxious about the possibility of horrible outcomes. I didn't need to add more anguish - he was already doing it to himself more effectively than I ever could! So I just quietly agreed with him as he berated himself.
As the weekend unfolded, the situation began to look better and in the end will turn out OK. I believe Christan will never be that irresponsible again. I have resisted the (still somewhat strong) urge to say "You Idiot! What were you thinking?" And I began thinking about our wedding vows "in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer" and how as a married couple it is so important to support each other "in intelligence and stupidity" 'til death do you part. Next time could be my turn to lose my mind and I want him there to help me through it.
There was a part of me that wanted to yell at him, call him an idiot, and list all of the horrible outcomes and consequences that could and probably would happen. Each time I opened my mouth I had to close it again and stop myself. All I could get myself to say safely was "OK, what do you need for me to do?"
I had a long and mostly sleepless night to ponder this. I didn't care so much about what he did, as much as why I so strongly felt the need to make him feel really bad about it. I wanted to make him WRONG and in the process, make myself RIGHT. I wanted to punish him with words that would cause mental anguish. Why? And why do we, as wives, often do this about anything really, not just the big stuff?
Even though I stayed up all night thinking about it, I never came up with any answers. I did however, manage to stay in the present which helped me tremendously. I kept focusing on the fact that we were all safe and healthy and praying that there would be no terrible repercussions. When we talked about it the next day that nasty part of me wanted to come out again, but less so. What I saw in the light of day was that nothing I could say could make him feel worse - he was already suffering, he already felt like an idiot and he was already anxious about the possibility of horrible outcomes. I didn't need to add more anguish - he was already doing it to himself more effectively than I ever could! So I just quietly agreed with him as he berated himself.
As the weekend unfolded, the situation began to look better and in the end will turn out OK. I believe Christan will never be that irresponsible again. I have resisted the (still somewhat strong) urge to say "You Idiot! What were you thinking?" And I began thinking about our wedding vows "in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer" and how as a married couple it is so important to support each other "in intelligence and stupidity" 'til death do you part. Next time could be my turn to lose my mind and I want him there to help me through it.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Old Dogs with New Tricks
My mom is an inspiration. Yesterday she turned 78. Two months ago she decided to take up tennis and is crazy about it. She's taking private lessons several times a week from a tennis pro (a very handsome 46 year-old tennis pro...hmmm...although she says her 26 year old pro in Florida is cuter. The apple does not fall far from the tree.). She has an entire wardrobe of cute new tennis clothes. She plays daily when she's home in Florida and she's getting quite good at it!
Mom asked me to try tennis when she arrived here for a month-long visit. At first I was non-committal and really had to fight with myself regarding why. Some might say I had rackets about rackets (sorry non-Landmark grads). After a day of discussing this with myself (such wasted time) I embraced it to be giving to my mom and to myself. I might even have some fun in the process.
So true to form, I started by buying the cute tennis clothes! Little tiny Adidas skort and very fitted top. Got both the black and the white. Then the shoes - always the shoes! All white Nike "Tennis" shoes (remember when all athletic shoes were "Tennis" shoes? If you do, you're over 40!) The shoes are so white I keep expecting little kids to come up and step all over them to make them dirty. Now for the racket...Titanium (of course) - super light weight with a skinny grip.
Even after outfitting myself I hesitated scheduling my first lesson using the excuse of "I have a cold" or "I'm busy" (my two favorites), but mom kept pushing, as all moms should do. So I scheduled my first lesson and had it yesterday. I loved it! It was a gorgeous morning and being outside was half the fun. What is it about whacking a ball that feels so good? I did learn though that tennis has changed in the 35 years since I last played at age 13 and sprained my ankle. After my initial evaluation, the pro pronounced me as an "Advanced Beginner" (that means I can actually make contact with the ball) and then he worked to undo everything I ever thought about how to swing a racket. I'm going back today and tomorrow so the lessons stick.
The tennis season is short here and I'm already a little sad I can only play until Labor Day. Mom will be able to kick my ass by the time she visits next summer! Let's hope this is something we can share for many more years.
Mom asked me to try tennis when she arrived here for a month-long visit. At first I was non-committal and really had to fight with myself regarding why. Some might say I had rackets about rackets (sorry non-Landmark grads). After a day of discussing this with myself (such wasted time) I embraced it to be giving to my mom and to myself. I might even have some fun in the process.
So true to form, I started by buying the cute tennis clothes! Little tiny Adidas skort and very fitted top. Got both the black and the white. Then the shoes - always the shoes! All white Nike "Tennis" shoes (remember when all athletic shoes were "Tennis" shoes? If you do, you're over 40!) The shoes are so white I keep expecting little kids to come up and step all over them to make them dirty. Now for the racket...Titanium (of course) - super light weight with a skinny grip.
Even after outfitting myself I hesitated scheduling my first lesson using the excuse of "I have a cold" or "I'm busy" (my two favorites), but mom kept pushing, as all moms should do. So I scheduled my first lesson and had it yesterday. I loved it! It was a gorgeous morning and being outside was half the fun. What is it about whacking a ball that feels so good? I did learn though that tennis has changed in the 35 years since I last played at age 13 and sprained my ankle. After my initial evaluation, the pro pronounced me as an "Advanced Beginner" (that means I can actually make contact with the ball) and then he worked to undo everything I ever thought about how to swing a racket. I'm going back today and tomorrow so the lessons stick.
The tennis season is short here and I'm already a little sad I can only play until Labor Day. Mom will be able to kick my ass by the time she visits next summer! Let's hope this is something we can share for many more years.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Being with not Drinking
As many of you know I have a love-hate relationship with wine. I love it while I am drinking it and its social nature; but I hate it the next day because it's a big downer and prevents me from doing the things I want to do and being the person I want to be. So, for now (and I mean now as in this present and ongoing moment), I am abstaining in my quest to live with mindfulness in the present.
So last night I made a nice dinner (Pad Thai and a Vietnamese salad with cabbage and chicken whose recipe I should post sometime - yum!) and asked Christian to sit with me and visit while I was preparing it. Usual and customary behavior would have been to open a bottle and have a glass while cooking, but "usual and customary" are terms rooted in the past and are distinctions we create that do not really exist in the present. So I said "No" when asked if I wanted any. Then a strange thing happened...all of my senses became heightened.
I could hear each step Christian took to go to the wine fridge; I heard its door open, then a pause and then shut. I could hear the corkscrew turning in the cork and the loud "pop" as it came out. As he poured the wine into the glass, I heard the "glug, glug, glug" sound as the wine left the bottle and could smell it was a red. I could hear him lift the glass off the counter, raise it to his lips, sip and exhale approvingly. I was so caught up in the intensity of how I could perceive all of this that I completely forgot about wanting any wine myself (although I did think that it felt like I was watching a movie about what an addict experiences with cravings, but in this case, I was, or rather am, the addict). You have to brush those stray negative thoughts away quickly. The whole experience was bizarre, but really interesting and pleasant. I can't wait to watch Christian drink again (which should be soon)!
So last night I made a nice dinner (Pad Thai and a Vietnamese salad with cabbage and chicken whose recipe I should post sometime - yum!) and asked Christian to sit with me and visit while I was preparing it. Usual and customary behavior would have been to open a bottle and have a glass while cooking, but "usual and customary" are terms rooted in the past and are distinctions we create that do not really exist in the present. So I said "No" when asked if I wanted any. Then a strange thing happened...all of my senses became heightened.
I could hear each step Christian took to go to the wine fridge; I heard its door open, then a pause and then shut. I could hear the corkscrew turning in the cork and the loud "pop" as it came out. As he poured the wine into the glass, I heard the "glug, glug, glug" sound as the wine left the bottle and could smell it was a red. I could hear him lift the glass off the counter, raise it to his lips, sip and exhale approvingly. I was so caught up in the intensity of how I could perceive all of this that I completely forgot about wanting any wine myself (although I did think that it felt like I was watching a movie about what an addict experiences with cravings, but in this case, I was, or rather am, the addict). You have to brush those stray negative thoughts away quickly. The whole experience was bizarre, but really interesting and pleasant. I can't wait to watch Christian drink again (which should be soon)!
Monday, June 20, 2011
Through the eyes of our children
Although I never thought I would even have a child, much less learn how to live from one, I have benefited from both. Life continues to give me more than I ever imagined, especially when I am mindful to see it and experience it fully.
Last night I went to dinner with friends and family for my birthday. We had tacos at the new Hapa Taqueria owned by friends in Salt Lake. I watched Ting dive into the fish tacos hungrily; taste every salsa available thoughtfully like a food critic; and eat until she was just full and satisfied she has tasted enough and no more.
After dinner we saw "Mama Mia" at the Capitol Center. Watching live entertainment is something I was lucky enough to grow up with and something I hoped Ting would grow to love too. The show is fantastic, and when I looked over to see Ting on the edge of her seat, chair dancing and mouthing the words of the songs, I felt tremendous joy! Then I saw mom, also sitting at the edge of her seat, smiling widely. Three generations of happiness - what a perfect night and moment.
Afterwards Ting asked me if the story was true and if Sophie ever ended up marrying Sky. I answered that the story was probably made up, but I bet they did get married and lived happily ever after because that is what I still believe can happen in real life.
Last night I went to dinner with friends and family for my birthday. We had tacos at the new Hapa Taqueria owned by friends in Salt Lake. I watched Ting dive into the fish tacos hungrily; taste every salsa available thoughtfully like a food critic; and eat until she was just full and satisfied she has tasted enough and no more.
After dinner we saw "Mama Mia" at the Capitol Center. Watching live entertainment is something I was lucky enough to grow up with and something I hoped Ting would grow to love too. The show is fantastic, and when I looked over to see Ting on the edge of her seat, chair dancing and mouthing the words of the songs, I felt tremendous joy! Then I saw mom, also sitting at the edge of her seat, smiling widely. Three generations of happiness - what a perfect night and moment.
Afterwards Ting asked me if the story was true and if Sophie ever ended up marrying Sky. I answered that the story was probably made up, but I bet they did get married and lived happily ever after because that is what I still believe can happen in real life.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
49th (YIPES!) Birthday
This is the first birthday that has bothered me as I thought about it before it happened. 49. What does it mean (nothing)? Thinking about that was compounded by the fact that menopause is starting with hot flashes all night as well as other related issues that would be TMI to mention here. My attempts to stop thinking about all of this have been fruitless. Having another glass of wine (champagne, vodka or tequila) to say WTF no longer works. So today I start something new, something I have been interested in but have not really pursued - staying present and living in each moment.
I realize much has already been written about all of this and everyone goes through this - there is nothing special about me and my journey. Nonetheless, here I go, or rather, here I stay. As I try to stay present, I'll post the books, thoughts, quotes, and other resources that I find helpful. Just in case you need a little help too.
It is raining and beautifully green outside. The house is quiet, except for the sound of my typing and Mom and Ting playing rummy in the morning room. My cold is almost gone and I finally feel well enough to bike and do yoga this morning. I can't wait to get moving so here I go!
I realize much has already been written about all of this and everyone goes through this - there is nothing special about me and my journey. Nonetheless, here I go, or rather, here I stay. As I try to stay present, I'll post the books, thoughts, quotes, and other resources that I find helpful. Just in case you need a little help too.
It is raining and beautifully green outside. The house is quiet, except for the sound of my typing and Mom and Ting playing rummy in the morning room. My cold is almost gone and I finally feel well enough to bike and do yoga this morning. I can't wait to get moving so here I go!
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