The Ballad of Jay-B and Fiancé Knowles

It’s been a whirlwind couple of weeks. After four days in Montauk and one day back at work, Justin and I set out on a bike ride along the Hudson River last Sunday evening. The plan was to go for a spin, hang out for a bit in one of the parks by the water, and then ride to din. We posted up on a grassy area and read and talked for a bit. Then we decided to get up and reposition ourselves to better see the sunset. (We’re really into sunsets these days.) I stood, but Justin didn’t… Instead he kneeled on one knee… and POPPED THE QUESTION!!! I was stunned. My heart started pounding and time seemed to stand still. (So cheesy I know but true.) I said “Oh My God” about 20 thousand times and then asked Justin to repeat his proposal. Again I replied “Oh My God.” “Is that a yes?” he asked. And of course I said, “YES.” And then he asked should we go to our party? Again I was shocked. He had arranged for a big family dinner (our parents and siblings, our nephew and niece and my grandpa all included). It was the perfect combo of an intimate private proposal and a larger-scale family celebration. I’m so excited to officially be family with my man.

A

P.S. Here’s a picture of us right after the proposal - 

P.P.S. Re: the title of this post – Justin has taken to calling me his Fiancé Knowles. And it just so happens that Justin’s fam calls him JB. (His middle name is Blake.)

I Want To Ride My Bicycle

Quite hypocritically, since this post I’ve worked 9 – going on 10 – days without taking a break. The upside is that I’ll be able to go Montauk for July Fourth (and fifth and sixth and seventh). So I’m sort of practicing what I preach. I’ve also been embracing some of the more relaxing elements of NYC – like bike riding along the Hudson River.

Justin got me a bicycle for my b-day back in February. He had been humming “Bicycle Race” by Queen for days prior, but I hadn't picked up on the hint. Justin believes having a bike is a prerequisite for being a true West Villager. And really he just knows how much I love bike riding (despite being a bit scared to ride on busy city streets) (similar to how I love the beach but am scared of big waves). Anyway it was an AWESOME gift, but it was too big. We ended up getting two Biria bikes instead: his and hers, black and cream. And I souped up mine with a big basket. (I try to be a Yogi about it and travel light, but usually I fail.)

We’ve gone on some lovely voyages – to dinner at Hudson Clearwater (delicious food and wonderful ambiance) and to the Hudson River bike path on various occasions, including a sunset spin. And recently we biked halfway across the Brooklyn Bridge – it’s not an easy ride! Especially on a sweltering hot day – before returning to the Village for ice cream from this fancy ice cream truck.

I love NYC but oftentimes I miss nature. I need to break out of the concrete jungle. And it makes sense. Dr. Andrew Weil says “Insufficient contact with nature predisposes us to depression.” He advises in his book Spontaneous Happiness to “Find ways to connect with nature. Take advantage of city parks. Bring natural beauty into your living space.” I’m looking forward to finally taking a few days off and escaping to The Hamptons. And when I’m back in The City I’ll keep taking bike rides by the water. Doctor’s orders.

A

Simone the Psychic at Sant Ambroeus

On Saturday night I went out with my best friend Jessi and my boyfriend Justin to grab a late bite and drinks at Sant Ambroeus in the West Village. We ate al fresco on the sidewalk and took in the scenery, which consisted mostly of drunk passers-by. We noticed a large drag queen reading peoples’ palms at a table nearby. He/She was peering into diners’ palms and speaking quickly and in a hushed voice. We were a bit wine-buzzed ourselves and we were feeling open-minded, so we welcomed The Palm Reader when she shimmied over to our table. She laid it out for us: “I won’t charge you but I do take tips. My name’s Simone.” Off the bat this was an auspicious situation, the name Simone also belonging to Justin’s beautiful new niece.

Simone turned first to Jessi. She thrust a small black flashlight at Jessi’s life-line (it’s long) and started spitting out rapid-fire psychic observations:            

Simone said Jessi in an over-achiever and a perfectionist. (True) Jessi is stressed at work. (True) Jessi is too picky. (True) Simone told Jessi to go out dancing that night, to let her hair down and to flirt with not one but two guys and to get their phone numbers. And Simone told Jessi to stop going for her same “type.” (True!) How did Simone know Jessi planned to go out on the town after our meal? (Jessi had plans to meet another girlfriend at a club; Justin and I had plans to meet our friend Bill Maher in our living room.)                                                                                                      

Next up for psychic observation: Me

Simone said I’m too focused on my family. (True?) She said I’m stuck between being a homebody and wanting to go on wild adventures. (True) She said I should take a vacation. (True) (And ironic considering my most recent post on… taking vacations.) And Simone said I procrastinate. (Guilty)

And then Justin:

Simone said Justin is entrepreneurial. (True) And then Simone said that Justin needs to tie the knot with his significant other soon. (Hmm) And she said he had recently made a big purchase. (True??? Justin won’t tell…)

Jessi and I were sold! We forked over some cash and asked where we could find Simone – did she have a card? No she said. But she “works the block” (By West 4^th & Perry) and she’s often at The Stonewall Inn and the Cubby Hole.

On Monday I asked Jessi if she ended up flirting with 2 guys on Saturday night and getting their numbers. Did she venture outside of her type? No, she said, she’s too picky :)

A

P.S. Sant Ambroeus is delicious! The appetizers are pricey but the main courses are on par with NYC pricing. We had the Tagliatelle Saltate Alla Bolognese and Penne Al Pomodoro E Basilico.

We’re the weird ones.

I’m a big fan of Bill Maher, and I’m a big fan of taking vacations. So when Maher spoke about the ridiculousness of the American attitude towards time off in his New Rules soliloquy this past Friday, I perked up. And please keep in mind that the below quote was meant by Maher as a joke. But his message is sincere. 

• "New Rule: American workers must get at least as much paid vacation as the Chinese slaves who make their iPhones.”

Allow me to paraphrase Maher’s explanation: 138 nations mandate vacation time by law. The United States is not one of them. The French take a minimum of 30 paid vacation days. The English get 28 paid days off. The Swiss get 20. Our government requires 0.

And when some Americans do travel they think it’s weird when Europeans dip out for a siesta after lunch. What these Americans don’t realize is that we’re the weird ones. The Europeans have the right idea.

Of course a majority of Americans don't even take all of the few vacation days they get. They’re too scared to seem less valuable to their bosses, especially because we live in the only “big boy country” (Maher’s phraseology) where losing your job means also losing your healthcare.

And Maher concludes: “And then you won't be able to get the Prozac that helps you forget how depressed you are about having no free time.”

Maher makes the valid (and to me, quite obvious) point that Americans have an overall skewed view when it comes to vacation time. And after all, we are a nation founded on Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness. It really is ironic that such a lazy culture frowns upon taking time off from work. It’s commonsense to me that workers need downtime to unwind and refresh, in order to ultimately be more productive in the workplace. (And in their personal lives.) Somehow our nation (and especially NYC) has demonized the idea of taking days off from the daily grind. Prior to my current career in yoga I had one coworker who proudly pronounced she had missed a family member’s wedding for a work event. She had made the comment in an attempt to gain respect. Instead I felt bad for her. Many of my friends are terrified to even request the days off that they technically have. And in many cases HR may indicate two weeks, but what employers really expect is less than five days. And five days or even two weeks vacation time max allowed during a whole year? That’s an INSANELY small allowance of personal time. And for so many Americans it’s not spent in the sun or the sand or even on the couch. It’s spent going to the doctor, taking care of kids, doing tedious errands, etc. God forbid we hard-working Americans take extended periods of time to just play.

And it’s not just American adults who are downtime-deprived. I’ve heard horror stories from babysitters who say they’ve told kids to go outside and play, and the kids ask, “What should we do?” Many kids these days are directionless without their Wii’s or iPads or whatever. Our current culture doesn’t necessarily foster imagination. Tots are so used to coexisting with technology or being carted from one organized activity to another – so many of them can’t just go outside and play.

But back to the older set: Everybody’s literally working for the weekend. “Work hard/play hard” is the saying. Spend Monday through Friday hunched over a keyboard only to be able to enjoy binge drinking on both Friday and Saturday nights. And then repeat. And repeat. Forever. Instead let’s aim for a more (to some, weird) European lifestyle. Have a glass of wine with lunch. Take a siesta in the afternoon. Take all of August off. And – somehow! – still get your sh*t done. It boils down to priorities. My priorities are to do work that is meaningful and of service, and to have good old-fashioned fun – to eat meals with my friends and family, to get besos and high-fives from my nephew, to linger over half-cafs at Starbucks with my dad, to go biking along the Hudson with my boyfriend, to go on adventures in truly beautiful places like Napa and Peru… to really pursue happiness.  

A 

P.S. Martha Beck speaks to the importance of engaging in ‘deep play’ in her book Finding Your Way in a Wild New World. Read an insightful interview here. Good stuff. 

images via pinterest

Even Educated Fleas Do It...

I finally watched the RHCP’s induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, and while it was awesome to see the Chili Peppers play (along with Slash, et al.) my favorite part was Flea’s acceptance speech (notwithstanding my always & forever crush on Anthony Keidis). Flea (along with my man AK) is a fan of yoga, and when Flea spoke to the power of his musical gift he seemed enlightened: “The burning intense desire that is inside of me to play music, that has not diminished in the slightest, that has only deepened as time has gone on; cause when we’re hittin it, when we are really inside the groove, when we’re on, I’m lost man, and in that moment I am truly free of everything and I am truly one with everything.”                                

It was inspiring to hear that Flea feels truly connected to all beings when he’s pursuing his life’s purpose. And in his speech he prefaces the aforementioned quote by saying that his life’s mission is to uplift those around him. I think he’s truly successful. Namaste.

A

Guest Blogger Jonelle Roman on Letting Go

I’m not particularly fond of cats (I take after my Grandma Elly who was terrified of felines) but I do appreciate the notion of non-attachment. Please see below for a special post from my friend—and certified yoga instructor—Jonelle Roman:

You Have to Let it Go

My roommate Alyssa and I were having a glass of wine at home when she pulled up a video that her friend, Mary, sent her of her kitten, Super Bean (yup, that’s its name), playing a game on her iPad. The game shows fish swimming across the screen and Super Bean has to tap the fish for points. There comes a point though when Super Bean holds on to one fish and holding onto it freezes up the game. “You have to let it go,” says Mary, and Super Bean lets it go and the game resumes. Fish are swimming around again, but Super Bean doesn’t jump to hold one this time. He just watches. Then BOOM! PREPARE FOR LEVEL 3 flashes across the screen, he’s moved up! GO KITTY! Still, Super Bean sits and watches without reaching.

Isn’t that a striking representation of life? We do it all the time, hold onto things. All sorts of things. I have clothes that I don’t wear that are freezing up my drawer. (I know I’m gonna wear that sweater again someday!) I have fears and emotional hang ups that are freezing up parts of my life. I can’t move forward to the next level! Argh! Holding onto things freezes the game! But that next level, that next journey is always there when we let go, when we detach. There’s so much more ahead! When we finally choose to be present and observe, and not attach, there is movement. We live life with less weight and move forward. BOOM! Level 3!

So take a note from Super Bean today: let it go.

J

Cartoon by Hugh MacLeod

no cheese please: an entry about being insecure

All of my family members, friends and random dinner companions know I don’t like funky cheese (Parmesan included) or spicy food. These are my dietary restrictions. Yet I consider myself an overall adventurous eater. And for some (clearly insecure) reason I always want waiters to know that. I don’t want to be perceived as a picky patron. So it’s always with a pang of self-inflicted shame that I mumble “Is there cheese on that Rigatoni Bolognese? That tuna ceviche isn’t spicy is it?”

Why do I care what a waiter thinks of my eating habits? Why do I even assume the server is taking the time to judge me based on my “no cheese” request? One of the myriad reasons I’ve gravitated toward yoga is that there’s no judgment in yoga. But what I often overlook is that yoga isn’t limited to physical practice. I don’t have to be on a mat, contorting myself into Twisted Chair Pose in order to be free from judgment. I just need to be in the right, yogic frame of mind. (And I should probably steer clear of Mexican restaurants.)

A

image via smitten kitchen