Posted by: mnels on: May 15, 2009
Moving is bittersweet. My emotions are so manic; I want to laugh, cry and throw up all at the same time. For eleven absolutely essential years of my life as I knew it, I resided in that comfortable, cozy and humble little home in White Bear Lake. Nestled in a dainty cul-de-sac and accompanied by lofty evergreens in the backyard, the memories I have in that home, in the town, are endless. More than anything, however, I am terrified of moving forward with my own life and away from life with my parents. Sometimes I feel like a newborn chick thrown from the nest, engulfed by the world around them and forced to learn to fly in order to survive. I’m scared, more scared than I have ever been, to permanently kiss “home” goodbye. But I suppose this is what happens when you grow up – you learn to adapt.
Cheers to new beginnings.
Posted by: mnels on: May 11, 2009
Mr. A to Z’s Gratitude Cafe, Summer 2009. Can’t wait.
Posted by: mnels on: April 21, 2009
I am looking for any excuse to talk to you, mr. i-always-ride-the-el-at-the-exact-same-time-as-you-every-monday-and-wednesday-no-matter-what
Posted by: mnels on: April 21, 2009
I’ve been doing a lot of writing and thought these were worth mentioning:
March 17, 2009
Early this morning, the dark sky was translucent before the sunrise; it was clear and at peace, except for the moon. Wild and vibrant, it dominated the skies. But now, as the sun continues to rise, the moon becomes distant, a subtle detail, blending in with miles of clouds.
Today, the sky is so clear, I watched the shadow of my own plane take off from the runway. Such a simple experience, yet so humbling. Too often we forget to stop and smell the roses, to appreciate the little things that we are fortunate enough to encounter.
March 17, 2009 (cont.)
Something else I was thinking about…
Airports always remind me of my last relationship, a long-distance relationship that lasted over a year. I think about how emotional I used to be, how much it hurt and how often I cried when we had to say goodbye. And now, I feel nothing. How is that possible? How can one go from feeling so strongly for someone to… nothing? How can raw emotion like that just disappear?
I often wonder if airports will always remind me of him. Even when I’m 40, 50 years old, and even if it is just for one moment, even if I forget his name, I wonder if he will still cross my mind.
Love is so funny, isn’t it?
March 24, 2009
Isn’t it strange that your most loved and cherished writing utensils are most often found, borrowed or stolen? Maybe it’s just me, but there is nothing like finding an abandoned pen and taking it in. Like the pen I’m currently using – a leftover from a meeting, my new best friend. I can’t get enough of it and I am still trying to figure out how someone could possibly forget a pen like this. Any pen I purchase after this one simply will not compare. This pen and I found each other. Fate… even if it is only a pen.
Posted by: mnels on: March 16, 2009
I feel like a dumbass and a half right now. Is that even possible?
Do we EVER learn from our mistakes?
Posted by: mnels on: February 25, 2009
Whenever I go to a place where work is being done, I always wonder what people’s drink of choice is. I don’t mean someone’s choice of drink at a bar or at dinner; I’m talking about the drink people pick up on their way to the library or at Starbucks before they begin their work. Are they drinking coffee or soda? Tea or water? Or maybe a fruit drink? What fuels people on their journey of intense reading, writing, or something in between?
I tried to pick people apart at the library today as I read through Part IV of the Discourse on Method, which, I might add, is actually growing on me. And when I say growing on me, I mean that I am able to get through Descartes’ argument without wanting to pull my hair out. Anyway, there was a boy sitting by himself in the corner of the room, drink in hand, reading. If he wasn’t drinking straight coffee with a shit ton of Splenda and Half&Half, he was downing something extra sweet, something with caramel and chocolate. He really threw me for a loop, however, when he pulled out a can of Diet Pepsi after he finished his first drink. Of all soda, I never would have predicted him to be a Diet Pepsi drinker.
The girl at the table next to him was typing away on her (new) Macbook, an extra-large drink in hand. It had to have been some sort of tea, either Earl Gray or Chamomile, because a girl as rail-thin as her would never drink anything with too much sugar or caffeine.
Does this game subject me to stereotyping?
I had a bit of a revelation tonight. Lately I have been so down on myself, mostly about petty things that are out of my control anyway. I invest so much time and energy into those things that are detrimental to my own well being and consequently, I feel exceptionally worse. So in the spirit of Lent, I have decided to give up all of the petty things currently tormenting me and instead, investing all of my time and energy in all things that make a positive difference in my life. Is that legit enough for Lent?
Posted by: mnels on: February 23, 2009
Tonight was great, despite the fact that Katie and I are wasting away on research essays. Here are a few highlights from the night:
“My nose is so cold right now. It’s distracting me.”
“I’ve been picking at my nails for 5 minutes straight.”
“I’m so focused on our conversation right now, it’s fucking GREAT! We are making face time right now!”
“I am being stared at AGAIN. That was a full-blown stare Maggie!”
“I think I’m going to take the other one in the morning….”
“This is…really awkward. Fucking…fuck!”
“We are going to UPGRADE for finals….. upgrade ya!”
“Shhh……stop conversing out loud.”
“Did you see how fast I just typed that?”
“I’m sweating and it’s itching.”
“I’m actually excited about acupuncture!” “Yeah, well I’m excited about the middle passage and the slave trade!”
“its perfect. he’s perfect. i’m just so happy..it gives me hope that someday i will find my own patrick thornquist.”
Posted by: mnels on: February 22, 2009
the corepower studio in the south loop is hosting a week-long retreat that begins today. this place looks like heaven on earth, for real. the haramara retreat center in sayulita, mexico is a center designed specifically for practicing yoga and meditation students. it is my new dream vacation.
speaking of core, i went yesterday for the first time since moving to chicago. the studio is a grip away; i have to allow myself 3 hours to get there, practice and get home. but the trek is so worth it. the studio is located on top of a giant warehouse (think best buy, bed, bath and beyond, and parking garages stacked on top of one another) and the building is enclosed in windows that overlook the chicago skyline. it made the experience so much more intense, i can’t wait to go back.
today was lazy and low-key. we received our second dose of snow throughout the day so instead of venturing out, katie and i ordered duck walk and watched prison break. i would just like to say that wentworth miller is a god and that he is the sole reason why i am absolutely addicted to the show.
tomorrow is going to be busy; i’m exhausted just thinking about it. it’s amazing how time always slips away when you need it most…
Posted by: mnels on: January 28, 2009
I’ve been journaling a lot offline, so I decided to compile a few of my recent entries to post on here. Enjoy!
1.22.09
I do a lot of really stupid things on a pretty regular basis. I would like to wise up, please.
1.23.09 (the biggie)
Although I have had my continuing doubts about DePaul, I must admit that there is nothing quite like walking through the busy streets of downtown Chicago on a night like tonight. City&Colour gently playing in the background, cold air softly piercing the skin and the city lights reaching far into the night sky…there’s something tranquil about it. In the midst of all the chaos, I feel at peace, and maybe that’s the feeling keeping me here. Moments like that which make the other struggles worth the fight.
But then I think about home and the people and places I miss. I think about Cindy, Ben and Rachel, Maggie, Nicole and Colleen, and of course my mom, dad and the rest of my family – all the people who mean more to me than I could ever put into words. And I become angry, upset that I am no longer within their reach. I think about everything I would do differently, things I would change if I could do it again.
And then I think about Katie, Trevor, Nina, Vince, Anthony, my roommates, Liz and all of the wonderful people this opportunity has brought me. I think I have been approaching this whole experience wrong, under a negative light and with a critical eye. I need to adjust my way of thinking, shed my insecurities and give this a real shot.
I have become too hung up on making the right decision for myself with transferring. If I can back away from the situation, step outside the circle and let things fall into place, I think I will be much more successful in making my final decision.
1.23.09 (continued)
My mind has gone for a swim, treading through a countless amount of thoughts, trying to piece everything together like a puzzle. And not just any puzzle, but one of those 1,000 piece puzzles depicting mountains and skies and abstract colors that take forever to put together. I think about Mandi and if she’s still alive in Hawaii. I think about Cindy and all the questions I want to ask her. I think about my mom and dad and how successful this year is going to be for them -how I wish I could be there to help celebrate each milestone, big or small. I think about packing up my life and going on an adventure with Maggie P. I think about moving to Napa with my parents, about meditation on the shore of some undisclosed beach, and if I’m going to spend Valentine’s Day alone. I think about my strengths, but mostly my weaknesses. I think about my self-worth, my decisions and my dreams. I think about all the things I wish I would have done: learned to play guitar, snowboard, surf, dance and sing, play and not take life too seriously. I think about falling in love. I think about yoga. I think about all the times I quit something, all the times I talked but didn’t walk, and all the times I disappointed myself. …And I think about how, embedded deep within these thoughts is some common denominator; some connection that I’m missing.
When will it come together and where will it leave me?
Posted by: mnels on: December 21, 2008
this is a passage from the book eat.pray.love by elizabeth gilbert. i LOVE the book and i love how she describes the meaning behind yoga. it’s long, but a good read:
“Why do we practice yoga?” he asked again. “Is it so we can become a little bendier than our neighbors? Or is there perhaps some higher purpose?”
Yoga, in Sanskrit, can be translated as “Union.” It originally comes from the root word yuj, which means “to yoke,” to attach yourself to a task at hand with ox-like discipline. And the task at hand in yoga is to find union- between mind and body, between the individual and her God, between our thoughts and the source of our thoughts, between teacher and student, and even between ourselves and our sometimes hard-to-bend neighbors. In the West, we’ve mainly come to know Yoga through its now-famous pretzel-like exercies for the body, but this is only Hatha Yoga, one limb of the philosoy. The ancients developed these physical stretches not for personal fitness, but to loosen up their muscles and minds in order to prepare them for meditation. It is difficult to sit in stillness for many hours, after all, if your hip is aching, keeping you from contemplating your intrinsic divinity becasue you are too busy contemplating, “wow…my hip really aches.”
But Yoga can also mean trying to find God through meditation, through scholarly study, through the practice of silence, through devotional service, or through mantra- the repetition of sacred words in Sanskrit. While some of these practices tend to look rather Hindu in their derivation, Yoga is not synonymous with Hinduism, nor are all Hindus Yogis. True Yoga neither competes with nor precludes any other religion. You may use your Yoga- your disciplined practices of sacred union- to get closer to Krishna, Jesus, Muhammad, Buddha or Yahweh. During my time at the Ashram, I met devotees who identified themselves as practicing Christians, Jews, Buddhists, Hindus and even Muslims. I have met others who would rather not talk about their religious affiliation at all, for which, in this contentious world, you can hardly blame them.
The Yogic path is about disentangling the built-in glitches of the human condition, which I’m going to over-simply define here as the heartbreaking inability to sustain contentment. Different schools of thought over the centuries have found different explanations for man’s apparently inherently flawed state. Taoists call it imbalance, Buddhism calls it ignorance, Islam blames our misery on rebellion against God, and the Judeo-Christian tradition attributes all our suffering to original sin. Freudians say that unhappiness is the inevitable result of the clash between our natural drives and civilization’s needs. (As my friend Deborah the psychologist explains it: “Desire is the design flaw.”) The Yogis, however, say that human discontentment is a simple case of mistaken identity. We’re miserable because we think that we are mere individuals, alone with our fears and flaws and resentments and morality. We wrongly believe that our limited little egos constitute our whole entire nature. We have failed to recognize our deeper divine character. We don’t realize that, somewhere within us all, there does exist a supreme Self who is eternally at peace. That supreme Self is our true identity, universal and divine. Before you realize this truth, say the Yogis, you will always be in despair, a notion nicely expressed in this exasperated line from the Greek stoic philosopher Epictetus: “You bear God within you, poor wretch, and know it not.”
Yoga is the effort to experience one’s divinity personally and then to hold on to that experience forever. Yoga is about self-mastery and teh dedicated effort to haul your attention away from your endless brooding over the past and your nonstop worrying about the future so that you can seek, instead, a place of eternal presence from which you may regard yourself and your surroundings with poise. Only from that point of even-mindedness will the true nature of the world (and yourself) be revealed to you. True Yogis, from their seat of equipoise, see all this world as an equal manifestation of God’s creative energy- men, women, children, turnips, bedbugs, coral: it’s all God is disguise. But the Yogis believe a human life is a very special opportunity, because only in a human form and only with a human mind can God-realization ever occur. The turnips, the bedbugs, the coral- they never get a chance to find out who they really are. But we do have that chance.
“Our whole business therefore in this life,” wrote Saint Augustine, rather Yogically, “is to restore to health the eye of the heart whereby God may be seen.”
-eat.pray.love, pages 121-123
