Mar23
Posted on Mar 23 by Ruth Davis
Last week I attended the first of 8 sessions of an Intro to Improv class. I signed up, wanting to do something I’m not great at. The day after the first class I realized that the intention has nothing to do with the actual improv work, but being in a class with people who, on the surface, aren’t like me. There are 9 men and 4 other women, all under the age of 35, most under 30. I’m 57. The women are skinny, energetic and single. The men, well, for one of the exercises, someone suggested the phrase “morning wood” and I had to ask for a translation. One 23 year old guy doesn’t like old movies – anything before 1995. And I wondered, how can I possibly relate and find ways to connect to these people through the work. If this were in a sit-down, book learning class, it might not matter, but this is a class about trusting your stage partners, vamping off of each other’s ideas, forming bonds and becoming friends with your fellow players. And...
Mar16
Posted on Mar 16 by Ruth Davis
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we’re powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ Actually, who are you NOT to be? Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightening about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” ~Marianne Williamson Spring is a time of birth and renewal. Things that were dormant all winter are budding and blooming and, with each day, there is more light. On the surface, this means longer, brighter days. Deeper, it can be an opportunity for our own selves to shine brighter. Does that idea scare you? Does the thought of standing in the light push you further into your own...
Mar09
Posted on Mar 9 by Ruth Davis
Marika and I spent last weekend camping. Instead of a staying in a campground, we opted to check out the dispersed camping area in the tall Ponderosa Pines of the Prescott National Forest. We drove about three miles down a winding but evenly graded dirt road to a clearing in the trees. After several attempts, I was able to level the RV in the uneven dirt and we settled into three days of quiet. The dogs loved sniffing and running off leash. Marika was enthralled with the variety of birds- woodpeckers, white breasted nuthatch, ravens, flickers, even bluebirds. But I was unsettled, because I had nothing to DO. I realized how busy I stay, with work, checking Facebook, watching TV. Without these distractions, I panicked about what I would DO all weekend. On Friday, our first morning, I lingered in bed till almost 10, cuddling with Cody and Mabel, while Marika sat outside watching to see if any birds would find the seeds she had scattered on a tree stump. She was content to sit and watch, look...
Mar02
Posted on Mar 2 by Ruth Davis
When I returned to the beach in September after my four month cross-country Heart Sparks Road Tour, I had every intention of sitting right down and writing about the adventure. But I didn’t. After two months of not writing I realized it was too soon, that I hadn’t yet lived beyond it, to know what story I really wanted to tell. Then I thought, well, I could at least get started on the book proposal. But I didn’t. And I’ve been beating myself up big time for the last six months because I still haven’t started. And yet, this book proposal, this book, is a key component to the future I’m visioning. And so I bombard myself with questions: Am I being lazy? Why am I avoiding this? What is the resistance to this thing I want most? And then last week, on my yoga mat, I set an intention for patience and compassion. I’ve been cranky with others and realized it is because I’ve been cranky with myself. And I stepped back into the observer role and examined...
Feb25
Posted on Feb 25 by Ruth Davis
When I was a kid, Spring was my favorite season. We could play outside during recess, bright bursts of colors appeared all over the neighborhood, and, oh, it was also my birthday. I loved the smells in the air, the promise of rain and green grass and always a family trip somewhere during spring vacation. After living in Arizona for so many years, Spring became my least favorite time of year. Even though flowers and trees bloomed, the temperatures were a lovely 70° – 80°, and it’s still my birthday, I was all too aware that soon after mid-March, summer would blast in, a furnace of heat and dryness and six months of being sequestered in the air-conditioned indoors. For many years I wasn’t able to appreciate any of the joys of Spring in the desert because I was already dreading the coming of Summer. And then, a few years ago, something shifted. Maybe it was that day trip out to Boyce Thompson Arboretum, where we counted thousands of wildflowers blooming along the highways. Maybe it was riding my...
Feb17
Posted on Feb 17 by Ruth Davis
We all avoid something. Going through that stack of mail. Making an appointment with the dentist. Getting on our bikes and riding around the block. My biggest avoiding is Getting New Glasses. Big capital letters kind of avoiding. Just the thought of it makes me want to run and hide. I’ve been wearing glasses since I was four and every single time I get fitted, it’s a struggle. My eyes are so sensitive to even the slightest bit of crooked or discomfort that I usually end up in frustrated tears because the glasses are too close, too far, too high, too low, too tight, too loose. I have tried affirmations – this will be easy, effortless and a good fit. I have breathed and meditated and visualized a successful fitting. But so far, it hasn’t worked. And so I’ve avoided Getting New Glasses for three and a half years and I really can’t put it off much longer. My neck and shoulders are sore from using my bifocals to see the computer screen, the scratches on my lenses...
