a fascinating read

Fantastic story in The Times discussing gender-nonconforming children, or those who struggle with accepting the title "boy" or "girl." Really digs into some of the meat of the topic, including cultural expectations for "boys" and "girls" and the power struggle between genders. I've been reading a lot of feminist literature lately, but not much about male identity issues, so it's awesome to see something that addresses both sides. Definitely check it out.

An excerpt:
"These days, flouting gender conventions extends even to baby naming: first names that were once unambiguously masculine are now given to girls. The shift, however, almost never goes the other way. That’s because girls gain status by moving into “boy” space, while boys are tainted by the slightest whiff of femininity. 'There’s a lot more privilege to being a man in our society,' says Diane Ehrensaft, a psychologist at the University of California, San Francisco, who supports allowing children to be what she calls gender creative. 'When a boy wants to act like a girl, it subconsciously shakes our foundation, because why would someone want to be the lesser gender?'"

If girls can be named Dillon and Jamie and Toni, why can't boys be named Amy or Sarah or Susan?

dupont circle

energetic trombonists at night

well-paced guitarist at day
(accompanied by cutest fan club ever)

wisdom or vanity

I never had a yoga teacher know me so much, without knowing me.

She took her time. One minute after class was scheduled to begin, two, five... Everyone, several with iphones next to their mats,
looked on, as she sat there, breathed a bit, set up her music, situated her large blonde free curls around her ear, settled comfortably onto her haunches...
when is she going to start? She wore a long silver necklace with a round pendant over her black tank top and I wondered how she would stretch without it flailing around, hitting her face or getting caught somewhere inconvenient.

And then, suddenly and without hurry, she talked. It went something like this:
"I am so honored to be with you today. But before we begin class I want you to know what this is about. It is not about impressing anyone or even yourself. It is not about meeting an expectation.

It is not even about the poses. In fact, there is no such thing as a perfect yoga pose. All of our bodies are different, so the poses are going to look different, they are going to reflect our bodies.

What this is about is you being here. Just being here, and moving where your body takes you, where you need to go. It's about finding that place where you feel something. Not the place where you sweat or cry or hurt, but the place where you get a message that you're where you need to be.
The place between 'too much" and "not enough.'

And that place will be unique for everyone. But as long as you're here, and you feel something, you're exactly where you need to be.

Just like with life. You don't need to go anywhere. You're already there. Just be there."

There were wide eyes and skeptical eyes and squinted eyes and peaceful eyes, bored eyes and excited eyes. Faces that signalled they'd heard it all before, and ones that looked stricken with new wisdom. She asked for questions, and we all understood or we all didn't dare ask or maybe we all just wanted to get on with it. There were no questions.

"Let's begin," she said.

And as our differently shaped bodies started to move she watched them admirably.

And when some were off-center or half-bent, when some took variations, she nodded in approval but did not touch. No reposturing, no lessons.

And while we moved to more and more challenging poses and our limbs shook and the sweat dribbled onto the mat she posited, "Wisdom or vanity. You choose."

And when I, perhaps overly ambitious, reached too far and fell to the ground, she whispered, "There's a good lesson."


When I ignored an instruction and sunk into child's pose, my left thigh shaking, I felt safe.

The place between too much and not enough. The ever-chased balance. To seek it just not on a yoga mat, but in life, as well. To be at peace and feel love and presence in every moment. This is my ultimate goal. It was refreshing and beautiful to hear someone put into words and to believe so deeply in what I want for myself.

this man is amazing



Phoenix Police Officer Jason Schechterle's life changed forever when his patrol car was struck from behind by a taxi going over 100 mph. His car instantly burst into flames, and 50 percent of his body was scorched by the fire.



I can't imagine the reconstruction of faith it must require for someone who is able to go through an experience like this and come out with this perspective. I speak solely from observation, but I think humans can take extreme tragedy in two ways -- they can take it as a grave and bury in it with an extreme, all-questioning exhaustion, or they can take it as a beginning and be reborn from it with a profound new wisdom. Simply continuing your life as before is not an option.

Those two processes are not mutually exclusive. I believe it takes a lot of time and a lot of grief before you get to the point of acceptance of something truly life-changing, and I believe that, once you are there, the fight is not over -- you must constantly restrengthen yourself and realign yourself with what you want out of your altered life. The inner resolve that must take, day in and day out, battling with loved ones, strangers, your faith and yourself, with your own questions and doubts and anxieties, must be exhausting. I can only hope that, should I ever face such an experience, I would possess such fortitude.

Please watch the story of Jason Schechterle and share your thoughts. Like NieNie, whom I have been following for years, he amazes me with his strength.