The View From Here

This album was written over the course of ten years. In that time I have lost both my parents and have had two bouts with cancer. In addition, I found out I have a paralyzed vocal cord. So in that time, there have been seismic shifts, not only in the way that my voice responds – which necessitates changes in the way that I write – but also in my views of life and the way I think about purpose and meaning. I have been given the rare and precious gift of time. This is my personal offering in gratitude to the Universe and to all of the wonderful souls who have infused my life with love.

Now that I am of a “certain age” I have stopped caring about many things that once seemed important, like squeezing my writing into a pigeonhole. So I have allowed myself to write anything and everything that comes to me. All of the stories and characters come from some part of me – my 15 year-old self, my (ahem!) current self, and everything in between.

This album is dedicated to the memory of my parents, Phil and Lizi. To my two oldest and dearest friends, my sisters, Michele and Sherry. You have both given me so much – Words fail. To my “sister by another mother”– Lucie, who has been such a dear friend and unfailing support. To our favorite nomads, Jim and Marylou. To Carole, my very dear, multi-talented friend of 30 years. To Betty Blair and J.P. And la Belle Renée in Tennessee. To all of the Munson clan, and especially to Marjorie Munson who has been an enormous inspiration – She and Ed gave Art wings and roots. To our Yoga Blend family here in La-La Land. You’ve taught me so much. To all of the many people I love – You know who you are! And to our little tuxedo fur child, Le Petit Henri, who spent so many long hours in the studio co-producing from the couch.

A special thank you to Michele who provided the beautiful music for our song, “My Mother’s Eyes”. And thank you for singing it with me. The Bagelman Sisters ride again!

Finally, I have to express my undying love and deepest gratitude to my soul mate and genius musical guru, Honey Hands Munson. To Art, My Heart. (It pays to sleep with your producer!!!).

“All of the shadow and all of the light/All that is wrong and all that is right/All of this I give to you. /All of me loves all of you – I do!”

FEEDING THE KITTY

FEEDING THE KITTY

This morning I got myself to yoga class.

I have a hard time with making time for yoga (and anything else that might be deemed “self-improvement”). When I make my mental list of priorities, I have a tendency to put such activities at the bottom of the list. And then, too, I have a fear of becoming a Hollywood cliché – the self-indulgent woman in the sunglasses, totally obsessed with her own navel.

On the other hand, whenever I do go to yoga class, I find it extremely centering, relaxing, and reassuring. I don’t necessarily think it makes me a better person, but I don’t think it makes me self-indulgent, either. We have to take up time in our lives doing something, so some of it might as well be something that makes us feel better.

I have another motivation for going to yoga class, and that is my health. Evidence seems to point to the health benefits of yoga practice for everything from reducing high blood pressure to strengthening the immune system. Being a cancer survivor, I am especially interested in strengthening my immune system. That alone may be justification enough for taking time for taking this class twice a week.

But isn’t it interesting that I’m writing about it in an effort to defend my choice. There is a little voice inside that just hammers away at me saying things like, “You are so selfish”, and “What are you accomplishing, can you tell me that”? and “Who are you kidding? You can’t do yoga! You’re not spiritual enough” and “Even if you were spiritual enough, you would never be a) strong enough b) graceful enough c) persistent enough”. And, “Don’t you realize how many really ‘important’ things you could be doing – for someone else – instead of this”? And the ever popular, “What a waste of money”! There are probably a lot more such statements that go on just below conscious awareness.

My yoga teacher says that you can “invite that critical little voice in to tea”, instead of trying to suppress her. He says you can have a dialog with the “shadow side”. That rather than try to get rid of all those negative messages, we should embrace them as a part of ourselves. The idea is that if you try to put a lid on those thoughts and feelings, they’ll just grow underground and become more powerful. That makes sense to me, and yet it’s very hard to get my mind wrapped around the idea of “embracing” such a nasty persona.

But maybe I could answer that voice by saying that there’s room in my life for all of it. For being a good friend, a caring daughter, a loving sister, a wife to my husband, a writer, a dreamer, a citizen of the world, and a student of yoga. There’s room in my life for a lot more than that, too. But – remember that wonderful old game, Monopoly? You can’t even begin to play until you “feed the kitty”. The “kitty” is the fuel. Without that, you can’t even spin the dice. So in life, we also have to feed the kitty! If you starve the kitty, you won’t be any good to anyone!

May I suggest, dear reader, that you, too find some way to “feed the kitty”, whether it’s a quiet walk, reading a good book, taking a swim, or gardening. Or maybe, taking a yoga class. Namaste.

© 2005, Robin Munson