After some thought and reading responses to my name change post, the current leader for a new URL is GreenJunkieLiving.com. Any last suggestions/affirmations? I’ll likely begin the transition next week.

I also wanted to make sure everyone’s seen the most recent healing bookshelf update. My dear Melinda kindly pointed out that I’d misspelled Bryant Terry’s name when I listed Vegan Soul Kitchen, which is a truly awesome cookbook.

I am also happy to report that Becoming Vegan and Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World have just been upgraded from my wish list to my ownership. The former because I needed a bit of a recharge, and the latter because I bought it in error for the Holistic Health Junkie as inspiration for a very special project, only to realize…she already has it. Which means: I get it! Yay!

What I really want to talk about here, though, is that little recharge I need. Around New Year’s, after my information binge regarding all things animal product, I made the switch to pescatarian. (By the way–is that the right spelling? Every source I check doesn’t recognize the word.) Vegan is the ultimate goal, but I have to say, I’m having a really tough time with the idea of no cheese. (That said, my body has a tough time when I eat cheese, so some day my tastebuds and the entire rest of my body are going to have it out; I have an inkling who might win.)

I decided I would begin my transition by giving up land meat. Given my three major reasons for thinking about a vegan diet–my health, the planet’s health, and the desire to reduce animal suffering–this seemed like a solid first step. I admit: lobster and sushi were also considered when making this choice. And I’m happy to say, I really don’t miss bacon. I don’t miss burgers. I wasn’t bummed to miss out on rack of lamb when I visited my parents.

I. miss. ham. This is extra sick considering that pigs are my favorite animal. How could I want to eat Wilbur?! Well, after a few too many drinks the other night, I was making some quesadillas for the fella and me. Mine was just cheese (which has its own problems, believe me, I know), and his had some ham in the middle. When it was time to dig in, though, I wanted just one of those ham-filled quesadilla triangles. I accidentally ate two.

(Seriously. I didn’t realize it until after. Please see previous reference to alcohol.)

In the morning, I woke up more than a little surprised at myself. Five months with scarcely a hiccup or craving, and then I went and shoved some pig in my mouth. What was I thinking? And why have I been craving the sweet, salty taste since then? I want to be moving away from animal products, not adding more to my diet.

Fortunately, I know my information junkie self. What I need now is a little booster shot of reality. Using my dwindling Amazon.com gift card money, I downloaded a copy of Becoming Vegan to my Kindle to read while Michael and I go out of town for a few days. I honestly can’t wait to remind myself of why this journey is so important to me. It’s one thing for me to be able to rattle off a quick list of motivations, but it’s another to (re)read the details of why this is so important.

Are you omnivore/pescatarian/vegetarian/vegan/raw? Why have you decided to eat that way? Is it ever a struggle for you? How do you stay on track when you’re tempted?

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I’ve been working on a bit of a poetry project here with a colleague. This is one of those things that came together rather magically, and I didn’t even know how much I wanted it until it happened. I’d put it on my vision board sort of by fluke (saw the word “poetry” in magazines I was ripping up, and pulled it), and it seems to have stirred something.

I’d been lamenting my need for a creative outlet. I bought needlepoint supplies (oh, how my grandmother would be proud) because it’s a nice portable craft, but my embroidery hoop broke in the mail. One night Michael looked over and said, rather out of the blue, that he thought I should try my hand writing poetry. And around the same time, I became friends with my incredibly talented, award-winning, and generous colleague, R. After a few too many glasses of wine, I mentioned to R. what Michael had said, and R. offered to help me with it.

Now, for about two hours every Thursday afternoon, R. and I meet to discuss my work. It is a humbling experience! Three weeks in, I have produced exactly one stanza worth keeping–and that was a compilation of lines by other poets, reassembled in a new way (which, I learned, is called a cento). This poetry writing business is hard, lemme tell you. And yet, it’s incredibly gratifying. Much like one of my other favorite practices. Hmmm.

Last Thursday, as I spent hours moving around and changing words, altering line lengths and verb tense, I couldn’t help but think that I had taken my yoga practice off of my mat and into the coffee shop. Both require regular devotion. Both require mindfulness and focus. Both serve as a form of meditation. And both make you stretch and twist as you try to do things you don’t think you can, yet keep attempting.

Clearly none of my own work is anywhere close to being ready for public consumption, but I will leave you with a transcription and (my slap-dash) translation of one of my all time favorite poems, by Jacques Prévert. (Believe it or not, I spent ages on formatting that all pretty, but it didn’t come through. I give up.)

Déjeuner du matin (Breakfast)

Il a mis le café                                                 He put his coffee
Dans la tasse                                                   In the cup
Il a mis le lait                                                   He put the milk
Dans la tasse de café                                      In the cup of coffee
Il a mis le sucre                                               He put the sugar
Dans le café au lait                                         In the café au lait
Avec la petite cuiller                                       With a little spoon
Il a tourné                                                         He stirred
Il a bu le café au lait                                        He sipped the café au lait
Et il a reposé la tasse                                       And he put down his cup
Sans me parler                                                 Without talking to me

Il a allumé                                                          He lit
Une cigarette                                                      A cigarette
Il a fait des ronds                                              He made rounds
Avec la fumée                                                   With the smoke
Il a mis les cendres                                           He put the ashes
Dans le cendrier                                               In the ashtray
Sans me parler                                                 Without talking to me
Sans me regarder                                             Without looking at me

Il s’est levé                                                        He got up
Il a mis                                                              He put
Son chapeau sur sa tête                                 His hat on his head
Il a mis son manteau de pluie                       He put on his raincoat
Parce qu’il pleuvait                                          Because it was raining
Et il est parti                                                      And he left
Sous la pluie                                                      In the rain
Sans une parole                                                 Without a word
Sans me regarder                                              Without looking at me

Et moi j’ai pris                                                 And me I took
Ma tête dans ma main                                   My head in my hand
Et j’ai pleuré                                                     And I cried

(Picture quality compromised due to hideous curtains, lack of space, and difficulty of actually holding a book while doing yoga. But I think they’re fun anyway. )

What other practices has your yoga found its way into?

A friend is heading back to the States tomorrow, and brought in a slew of goodies from his kitchen. Including Riesens. You know Riesens–those yummy, chewy, chocolatey coffee-licious candies. They got the better of the fierce sugar cravings I’ve been having, so I had one. Then two…three…six. I’d skimmed the ingredients and eaten them before, maybe one or two. Saw “modified food starch” on there, and told myself it’s safe, it’s almost definitely corn. This has been a very convenient li(n)e I’ve told myself over the last few years. I may have been OK had I scoured the ingredients more closely, like I did this evening after I started to get those tell-tale pains in my joints: “Contains milk, wheat, and soy ingredients.” Dammit!

The good news is, I think the amount I consumed was small enough to make me extremely uncomfortable, but not writhing in pain, unable to stand, searching out that one half narcotic pain killer I keep as an absolute emergency. I am taking a cue from the inspiring Maria at Going Down Swinging: A RSD Blog, and refusing to give in to the pain. On my walk home from work, I practiced some deep breathing and visualization techniques (until it occurred to me that closing my eyes for visualizations wasn’t the smartest thing while walking home), and focused my attention on what I wanted to manifest. In other words, I kept telling myself how healthy I am, how smoothly my joints work, and how good I’m going to feel in the morning. To be honest, yeah, I’m still in pain, but I know it’s not going to last. And I just got even more motivation to stop eating packaged foods, and, when I do, to read the stinkin’ labels!

Finally, I recently came across this stellar CSL post by Stefanie Bryn Sacks entitled All About Wheat and Gluten! If you’re curious about the distinction between wheat allergies and gluten allergies, and which companies make the best eats, this blog is a must read.

As I mentioned in part i, Michael and I fell in love over bacon (among other things), so I count myself extra lucky that he’s been such an enthusiastic partner in all this. Our first step is to phase animal products out of our house. We no longer add chicken to our curry dishes, and we recently stocked up on soy milk (I have my own concerns about soy products, but we live in Korea, so our options are limited) in lieu of cow’s milk. Bacon is no longer added to everything, and I’ve been relying on popcorn and kale chips—which I will post about soon—instead of salami-wrapped-cheese when snack time rolls around. Again, I’m in transition, so I have consumed at least some small amount of animal product for most of the last fourteen days, but I’ve had some full-on vegan days, too.

What’s exciting is that I’m already feeling the benefits, which I have been promising LC, of Let Them Eat Lentils, I would blog about. Here are some highlights:

• My digestive system works better. I won’t go into details, but this is a very welcome change in my life.
• I have more energy. A big part of this is, I believe, due to my daily green smoothie, but it’s become more noticeable as I eat less animal product.
• My energy is more stable. This is largely due to the fact that I eat less sugar—to be honest, the vast majority of the sugar I consume comes in the form of wine—but eating a healthier diet is only reinforced by this latest shift.
• I’m cooking a wider variety of foods. When I found out I could no longer eat gluten, I was not inspired to create gluten-free versions of most foods, but I am really enjoying tweaking recipes to be vegan. We’ve been exploring new produce, like stonecrop (awesome!) and burdock (I wasn’t wowed, but it did serve as a nice base for vegan spring rolls).
• We’re saving money. Michael and I have shown a distinct talent for blowing wads of cash at Costco as we stock up on imported meats and cheeses (and wine). All these produce-based meals have helped pad the wallet.
• It feels good to know I’m doing something to help future generations. I still make a lot of selfish eco-choices, like buying new clothes and living an international life (which requires flights), but I absolutely believe consuming fewer animal products helps ensure my niece and future children will have a planet to enjoy.

All that said, there are some benefits I am still waiting on, but I suspect I will have to be much further along this path to experience them. Most notably, my hormones still feel a little whacky (which, I know, could be due to any number of factors) and I really struggle to stay in a weight range that feels healthy for me.

When I get frustrated by what’s not happening, or by not being full on free of animal products, I have to remind myself that this is a process. I’m not a saint, I screw up a lot, and will probably never meet my incredibly high standards for a healthy life. But at least I’m a trying. Yoga sometimes is better than yoga never, and a seafood risotto is better than bacon-wrapped-pork.

How do you stay motivated as you try to make healthy changes? What goals or standards have you set up for yourself?

My big problem is noise. I feel I am hyper-sensitive to noises around me, and it often makes me feel anxious or frustrated. I grew up in a pretty quiet house. Music was often playing (blues, jazz, classical), but as far as noise–TV blaring, people yelling–there just wasn’t much.

How do I learn to handle my reaction to noise better?

I can’t control how loudly other people speak, and my office is often full of people speaking loudly or joking around–which is great, but I like to work at work so I can relax at home. Michael is gem about my noise sensitivity, and obligingly puts in headphones when he plays videogames or I’m trying to read, so that’s not an issue. Changing the volume of the office isn’t going to happen, and I hate my silent seethe at my desk. (This is not a problem only at work; you may remember my post last week about being incredibly frustrated by loud neighbors in the morning.) Furthermore, I don’t want to be a hypocrite. While I think I’m a pretty quiet person most of the time, I know there are times when I annoy or frustrate people with my music/loud speech/etc.

I have tried channeling Pema Chodron and reminding myself that “I cannot cover the world in leather,” but when I can’t think through the noise to work, it’s hard to know what to do. How do you find patience and grace for the most frustrating and trying experiences?

The good news is, I do think it’s happening, bit by bit. I like to think this intention is helping me become a better teacher. Before, I would get so frustrated when students didn’t “get it.” Now (thank goodness!) I know that it’s up to me to make sure they understand, and to be patient in trying to decipher what the challenges are. It helps me approach my work with love and grace, rather than frustration. How do I know it’s working? I’ve realized my face actually hurts from how much I smile while in class. Seriously. My cheeks need a break!

Michael, the Zen master, is of course very supportive of this new undertaking. (Hmm…can’t imagine why…) He recently share this beautiful, brief video of Buddhist nun Pema Chodron with me. Many of you may have already caught the link when I shared it on facebook and Twitter, but I wanted to post it just in case. (I finally figured out how to embed video! OH HURRAH!)

This lesson has already helped me refocus quite a few times since I first watched it a few days ago. My new mantra is, “I cannot cover the world in leather; I can only change my thoughts.” The morning after watching this for the first time, I woke up to the sound of a very long, very loud, very annoying conversation in the stairwell outside my door. My automatic first thought was, “I’m gonna kill that woman.” Nice, Liv. Great, positive way to start the day! Then I remembered Pema Chodron and took a deep breath:

“I cannot cover the world in leather; I can only change my thoughts.”

Ten seconds later, the conversation stopped. I couldn’t help but laugh. I think I’m finally picking up on what the universe is trying to teach me.

Sadly, inertia is a powerful force! The next day was Christmas Eve, and I completely forgot until I was in bed, falling asleep, at 3am. I didn’t get up. Christmas was spent Skyping long distance and drinking champagne (not healthy, but fun), and then I felt quite under the weather for the rest of the weekend. Excuses, excuses!

Last night I was pretty darn tired, my nose wouldn’t stop running, and I’d been staring at my computer, editing essays for the better part of the day. Couldn’t I just skip one more day? What difference would it make? Lucky for me, among his many other duties, Michael is an awesome live-in beacon of encouragement, and he helped coax me onto the mat.

I knew I would have to take my time, practice patience, and fully give myself over to my practice. I picked an extra-long Sigur Ros song, lit some candles, and began. It was beautiful. I went slowly, remembering my breath and taking note of how my body felt as it went through the poses. Much to my surprise, I hadn’t lost most of the flexibility and strength I had developed over the previous two weeks. To finish, I spent some extra time in tree pose for my knees, and then melted into savasana. It was the perfect return to a daily practice, and a wonderful reminder that even if I do “screw up” (read: miss a few days), I can just as easily begin again, again.

So often, I just want to get through my practice, and don’t give it the full respect it deserves. Part of this stems, I think, from my living situation. The beau and I share a studio+, so while we have a general divider between the sleeping/kitchen (you read that combo correct) area and the living room area, there’s no door. Michael has been awesomely supportive of my undertaking, reading in bed or some such when I need to do my practice, but I can’t help but feel like I’m putting him out a bit. Also, we have a stinkin’ lot of fun together, so I’m often distracted by either some fun thing we could be doing instead, or the work I have to get through so we can have fun.

Brushing up on the technical elements of yoga, and reminding myself of better ways to transition between poses and how to use my breath as a tool, was at once inspiring and frustrating. It made me aware of so many things I could do to improve my practice, but I have trouble keeping them all in mind at once. (This is when I have to pause and tell myself that even though I’ve been practicing off and on for ten years, I haven’t had a truly consistent daily practice since…ever. And all things take time.) I will continue to try to improve, and slowly things will get easier. My body will learn and remember what to do.

I have to admit, though, I miss having an awesome studio to go to like back in Philly. There are places here that have English language classes, but they’re expensive and at inconvenient times. Perhaps I will just treat myself to classes to my heart’s content when I’m home to meet my nephew in March. In the meantime, do you have a favorite DVD that you’d recommend? I’m bored with mine.

It has come to my attention that I am not a patient person. I didn’t believe it was true at first, but when your partner and your best friend both tell you this (and more than once), perhaps it’s time to wake up and listen. And if this has been glaringly obvious to those who know me well, all I can say is…I’m learning.

In that past few months, since this blipped across my radar, I have noticed myself feeling inpatient somewhat frequently. Recognizing this was the first stage, and now that I’ve accepted it, it’s time to try to change it. Of course, I’ve been really inpatient about growing more patient. When I stepped on my mat today, patience was the word that immediately popped into my head.

So what did I do? Flowed through my 5 sun salutations rather quickly, often forgetting that patience was supposed to be my focus.

Oy.

I guess the good news is: I’m taking (small) steps, and I did my (small) practice again today. Perhaps this is in itself a lesson in patience. This means I’m going to have to learn how to be patient with myself, doesn’t it? Baby steps…