Yesterday I wasn’t my usual Birthday Gal self.
Despite kind messages from friends afar.
The sky was cold and gray, and my heart was heavy.
Then my loving Zippy came home early bearing gorgeous gifts.
It’s hard feeling down in the presence of sunflowers.
I decided it was time to make that new hoop I’ve wanted.
I find myself smiling again.
Life goes on.
Thank you to all who share it with me.
Wishing everyone a wonderful Thanksgiving.
I’ve wanted to post a video of me hooping but wasn’t brave enough.
This morning’s sunshine and my groovy shadow gave me courage.
Here I am hooping to Nick Drake’s "Know."
Enjoy.
We went to Westcliffe for my family’s reunion and this time I remembered to bring my beginner’s hoop, the oversized, extra-heavy, foam-covered hoop I learned with last summer. Last month when visiting her, I’d only brought the lighter hoops and Mom was intimidated when the hoop kept dropping.
Not so this time around. The (78-year-old) woman is a natural.
Here we are during one of our 45-minute sessions:
(I’m having major difficulties with uploading photos onto my LJ. I can’t even get into Photobucket anymore and finally got this to work via TinyPic but it didn’t accept my custom cropping so you’re getting a much larger view of the car hood and much smaller view of Mom and me than I’d intended. Not to mention how my LJ keeps giving me an “undefined” error message when I click on Insert/Edit Image. Aargh!!!)
Last night I printed out the final twelve pages of my ms and read them again. I felt cold dread. Something was off. So I went outside and hooped without music as I talked aloud (to myself and the occasional finch or robin) about my story. And I realized I needed to use highlighters to, well, highlight the different plot and character interactions in those pages to get a handle on the situation.
Today I highlighted and wrote on sticky notes and scribbled in margins and crossed out paragraphs and basically had a good ol’ time ripping those pages apart. The cold dread has now warmed to a tentative optimism.
I wanted to post a photo of my efforts because it felt good to make that kind of progress but also because the results were rather colorful and festive.
Alas, I cannot locate my camera. Perhaps Zippy took it to British Columbia.
If you’d like to humor me, close your eyes and visualize yellow, pink, orange, green, and blue lines scattered with pale yellow sticky notes and illegible blue ballpoint scribbles.
Oohs and aahs optional.
On Saturday I hooped for the first time in about a month, and then again today. Ouch. Apparently regular hooping toughens up the hip bone region but when you lay off for a while, well, it goes all soft and tender again. Tiny green bruises may ensue.
In hooping, as in flossing, consistency is key.
This morning I learned a new hooping trick!
I can now officially hoop on my chest!
Told my mother over the phone and she said, “Er, isn’t that painful?”
I said, “Not on my breasts, Mom. On my chest!”
To which she replied, ‘Well, then that’s wonderful!”
Good old Mom.
This morning a family friend who is home from Carleton College came over to hoop. Zippy and I had already gotten her measurement (floor to navel) and made her hoop. I left her with the gaffer tape while I took Zebu to school. A few minutes after I got back home she gave me a somewhat exasperated look and asked if she could finish taping later. Taping is tiresome work and I was glad to learn I’m not the only one who stinks at it. Wrinkles, anyone? Gaps?
We went down to the basement and hooped for about 90 minutes.
We laughed as our hoops hit the ceiling, flew across the room, and knocked the backs of our heads. We grinned in triumph whenever the hoops twirled just the way we wanted them to twirl. And we agreed that thigh hooping is damned difficult and slightly painful, and maybe not a trick we need to learn.
We made plans to hoop together again very soon.
This evening Zebu taped his hoop.
I’m calling it Tracy’s Hooping Anti-Massacre Movement. Somehow I think Arlo would approve.
Especially if they’re no-line bifocals.
You know, the kind of glasses you really, really want and need to remain straight on your face?
I bought my first hoop in June. As mentioned before, this hoop is heavier and thicker than those we had as kids and so is much easier to keep moving. I fell in love with hooping and the way it relaxes me. I kept at it and after a while got good enough that I could remove one of the segments and hoop with the smaller hoop (which means I can hoop faster and really work up a sweat). Then I started taking little steps and practiced doing some spins and turns. Eventually, I could even skip as I hooped.
This is all good. I feel better, I look better. It’s all good.
Except.
I’d done some investigating and discovered that my little spins and turns weren’t much in the wide, wide, world of hooping. Hoopers can pick up hoops with their feet, hoop around both shoulders or just one shoulder, around their knees, and even hoop blindfolded. I wanted to do more.
So I made myself a lighter, thinner hoop because the one I have is too heavy for tricks. I ended up making two hoops since the first was too small for me (although it’s a good size for Zebu). And then I started trying to get it up. I bruised my forearm, repeatedly smacked my leg with the hoop, and yesterday knocked my glasses halfway off my face but . . . TODAY I mastered** a slightly modified version of Push It followed by overhead twirls and bringing the hoop back to my waist without a break in the spinning.
This video shows what I’d like to be able to do someday. I smile and feel all floaty as I watch Ammre:
** I was successful at two attempts in a row. 🙂
I’m so happy because I’ve felt well enough to hoop the past two mornings. Yesterday I was a bit tentative because I didn’t feel 100% but this morning I had such a grin on my face when I started dancing and twirling to the music. (I’d like to bottle that feeling and take a whiff or two throughout the day so as to remember not to get stressed about the small stuff).
I’ve gotten much more coordinated than when I started but I’m still somewhat stiff and sometimes feel a bit like Frankenstein as I move about my living room. But as I alternate between fluid movement and heavy clomping, I’m slowly internalizing one of life’s basic truths: whatever it is I’m trying to do, I’m always much more successful when I relax into it. Which, of course, makes me think of the writing process (because don’t all roads lead there?!) So here it is:
I’d really like to start posting everyday because when I let too much time go past, I get overwhelmed by all the subject possibilities.
For instance, I’m back from our car trip extravaganza and I could post a Yellowstone photo of the fireweed with the backdrop of tree remains from the ’88 wildfires:
I could share how wonderful it was meeting
and her gorgeous children, Catgirl and Tornado Boy, and the dissertation-slaving Mr. C. Laurie and I only had a bit of time together but our online interactions made me feel as if we’d already met. She’s just as smart and funny in person as in cyberspace.
Hmm, what else? Oh yes, I’m totally enamored of my hoop. I took it on the trip and hooped all over the place. Along a path in Yellowstone where I converted several older women to a hooping existence, alongside a swimming pool, in various hotel rooms, on the lawn of a hot springs resort in Montana. Wherever I could grab a few minutes. Hooping wakes me up AND calms me down (kind of a non-narcotic, non-stimulant speedball effect).
On our first day of the trip we stopped at some tiny store/gas station in Arlington, WY, where the actor James Woods was buying orange soda and chips (which he started eating before leaving the parking lot). According to Zebu, the men’s restroom in that place was literally overflowing. Ugh.
Random thought: I feel so vindicated in the knowledge that the “moderate” John McCain and his “straight-talk” campaign have imploded!
I’m reading COLD MOUNTAIN right now and am in awe of the writing. I know I’m way behind the times here, but better late than never. I read another adult novel on the trip, a Pulitzer winner from the 80s, and was not so impressed. Charles Frazier, though, is the real deal.
I’m happy to report that I’m back on track with my WIP. Zippy thought of some plot point while on the trip and said, “I know you don’t want to talk about your book but I was thinking…” Well, let’s just say I was less than graceful in shutting down that conversation.
This morning I got a call from my neighbor letting me know a local radio station was giving away tickets to Bob Dylan at Red Rocks. Well, I hooped away while hitting redial and while I got through a bunch of times (the first time I nearly choked on the jolt of adrenaline), each time the phone just rang and rang, and then went to the busy signal. Sigh. Guess it’ll be a Zebu-only experience tomorrow night.
Okay, I’ll stop here with a vow to post more often so there’s not so much stuff to wade through.
Saturday night Zippy and I went to Red Rocks for the concert.
Mavis Staples – WOW!
John Butler Trio – very good.
Michael Franti and Spearhead – TRANSCENDENT. One of the most moving experiences of my life. MF is angered by the daily dose of bullshit and criminal behavior we’ve been subjected to for the past six and a half years BUT he’s also filled with hope for the planet. He’s a minstrel bringing messages of awareness and hope to the masses, and the people respond. I absolutely recommend seeing Spearhead’s live show, especially if you’re feeling so worn down you just can’t go on. Did I mention you’ll dance?!
Wildebeest and Zebu are back from camp. I picked them up Tuesday morning. Monday afternoon I received my one and only letter from camp. It was from Zebu. Dated Friday, June 29, the letter began: “Dear Mom, For me, the past two days sucked.” He went on to document how the powdered Gatorade container he volunteered to carry on their hike up a mountain opened in his pack, covered all his stuff, and coated his arms which made him “a feast for the mosquitoes.” He listed other travails which I read through my tears. I got there early on Tuesday morning, expecting a sad little camper eager to leave the mountains. HA. We were the last family to leave. My two guys kept laughing and talking with the counselors, doing card tricks and taking photos. It’s nice having them home again.
I haven’t written a whole lot in the past few days but I did manage to get over that bad spot and find my way back into the story. I’ve gone back to keeping the book secret as I write this second draft, and it feels better. William Faulkner is doing a good job guarding the circle.
I have a new addiction. I learned about Betty Hoop when there was an article in the paper about her Bolder Boulder run. She hooped the entire 6.2 miles without the hoop hitting the ground! Anyway, I just love my hoop because it’s made for adults (heavier) and stays up when I twirl. I always thought I couldn’t hoop but now I can go nonstop and am feeling all sorts of stomach muscles I haven’t used in years. Hooping mellows me out but also energizes me at the same time. Plus, it makes me smile! (If anyone is interested in getting one, the GAIAM hoop/DVD was on sale for $24.50 when I ordered by phone. I haven’t used the DVD yet, am having fun just twirling and staring into space).
Tomorrow morning we take off for a week in Yellowstone and Montana. It turns out
will be in the same Yellowstone lodge at the same time! We’re going to meet! I’m so excited! Can you tell?!
I’m taking my travel hoop on the trip. Hooping next to the geysers! (Right. As if Wildebeest and Zebu would allow that).
Wishing you all a wonderful week.
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Tracy Abell 