Will you listen to yourself???

Posted on by Justin

 

Before:after

“Let’s listen and bring our voices together with three, sweet oms”, my teacher says.

The students, one by one, begin chiming in with their voices to produce the sound on an “om”. It starts out so sweetly and innocent.
And, then out of nowhere, you start to hear, “aaaaaaAAAAAHHHHHHH”. This sound will seek out a grown persons spinal cord, and your body starts to twitch as a result.
I always sit in the very front, so this off key “om” hits the back of my head and engulfs my body like Santa Ana winds.

“WHOOOSH!!”

Of course, the first thing I say to myself is, “What the fuck is wrong with this girl? Is she tone deaf? In the room of elephants, does she NOT know she’s the pink one??” I usually roll my eyes to myself and try to clear this irritation from my mind, and pray that the end of the “Oming” comes soon. I also quickly realize that I’m in a yoga studio and it’s not nice have asshole thoughts while I’m on my mat.
She needs to LISTEN! Listen to herself and the people around her.

Listening is a skill, I believe. And, I’m still learning. I posted a side by side picture recently on my facebook page. It was a picture of me with a black eye, next to a picture of me recently, smiling. The one with the black eye was when I was in my slightly abusive relationship and before yoga. The other was post yoga, full of happiness, and maybe a little vodka. :-)
Right after I posted that picture, I was flooded with comments and support. I also received a few private messages from people telling me that they are/were in similar situations. They reached out for help, an ear.  And, I was more than happy to oblige. I know what it’s like to be not happy in your life and not know what to do. Actually, I did know what to do. I just didn’t have the courage to do it.

Looking back on that whole experience, I can honestly say that I had absolutely no business being in a relationship at that time.
Period.
I wasn’t happy in general, at that point in my life. I especially had no business moving to another city to be with someone who constantly put me down, and made me anxious. No business. It’s because I wasn’t listening to myself, my gut. We all know when something isn’t right in our lives. A lot of times we may perk up, take notice, but ultimately fall short on taking action. If you want to change your situation, changing your way of thinking is a great start. Listening to yourself would be step one.

“Why am I so unhappy? Why do I hate my job? Why does my mate make me want to vomit from anger?” 

For the longest time, my life was just in chaos, a true mess. Until I found my yoga practice, I had no idea that my life could harmonize with the world around me. I had no idea that I could be happy. Did you know this??
Since I started yoga three years ago, I’ve been able to find clarity in many things that were hazy for a long time.  But the trick is that you have to listen and recognize what is making you unhappy or stressed.

I think a lot of us tend to put up with certain things because we think that they can’t be changed. And, a lot of times that may be the case.
However, you do have control over one thing…yourself.  You have the ability to make better choices, which help to improve your mental health.
When I finally realized that I wanted my life to change, I did the following:

1. Listened to myself and the people who cared about me
2. Made a list of goals for myself
3. Surrounded myself with good/positive people
4. Did a “friend cleanse” (I was tired of hanging around with assholes and negative folks)
5. Stayed focused by going to yoga (yoga might not be your thing, so find something that keeps you steady)

This WORKS!

I truly believe that once you rid yourself of the crap in your life and stay focused, good things will come.
With that being said, you have listen to yourself and recognize the “crap” that is causing your problems.

Your happiness is worth more than anything. Take care of yourself and make a change.

Most days you can find me on my yoga, at the studio. And, PLEASE, listen to yourself when you’re “Oming”.
The voices are supposed to become one.
If this is a problem for you, let me know ahead of time.

I’ll bring you a bucket so you can carry a tune!

Yoga, Religion, And Spirituality…Oh My!!!

Posted on by Justin

 

I went on a date recently.

“So, tell me a little more about yourself. What are your hobbies? Are you religious?”, I asked.
“Actually, I am. I’m a Christian. I don’t like the gay churches because I feel like they push gay pride on people. They aren’t there for that reason. So, I just go to the churches that don’t accept me, sit in the back, and listen to the sermons. I like the overall message at those churches.”
“Are you serious? Because that doesn’t make any sense.  Well, I’m agnostic with Atheistic tendencies and I haven’t been to church since I was eighteen. By the way, how was your steak?”

I quickly flagged down the waitress and gave her the universal “finger check sign”. I practically hurled my debit card at her.

Religion/Spirituality and Yoga. Can there be separation, or is it all intertwined?

Religion and Spirituality are always touchy subjects for me; I guess they are for most people. I grew up in a conservative town in southeast Texas and attended Catholic masses every week. I went to church camps, catholic retreats, fundraisers, attended CCD classes, and even sang in the church choir. Not to mention that I was an altar boy for several years! So, I knew my way around the catholic church.
After practically growing up as a Catholic, I never really felt good, saved or accepted. There was always something missing; this was even BEFORE I realized that I was gay. I remember the parishioners outside of church calling people names, and doing “unholy things”. I couldn’t understand how people could in “the house of God”, hear these great stories about love, and then walk outside talking shit about people. It just didn’t make sense to me. It wasn’t right.
As I’ve grown older, my views of religion and spirituality have changed quite a bit. I don’t really believe in a giant ark with two of every animal on board, talking snakes, and taking ribs from people. It’s even harder to swallow due to the fact that these are stories/interpretations written by people (some illiterate I might add) thousands of years ago. What might have been blue with yellow dots last week, is now purple with black stripes today. Stories ALWAYS change with time.

With that being said, I DO believe there might be “something else” going on besides what we see. I do believe in spirits. And, the only reason why I say that is because my sister and I both have had personal experiences with them. Plates moving, hearing noises, seeing lights, and something grabbed my foot when I was alone one night. I can’t explain them, I just know that they happened.

When I started my yoga practice almost three years ago, it was all about the asana. Gaining muscle, flexibility, and working up to that sweet savasana. Then, I began to hear stories about Hindu deities, buddhism, miracles, purple rain, and elephant gods during classes. I started to shutdown and tried to separate the two.  And, “What the hell are mala beads anyway??”

I didn’t want any part of it.

I mean, how could I? I was a self-proclaimed Agnostic that was leaning towards Atheism. If I wasn’t sure about Jesus, why would Lord Shiva and Ganesha be any different? I was very conflicted. Because most religions/spiritual groups seem to believe that they are “right”, or know best.

So, what’s the answer here?

I sure the hell don’t know. I say to myself, and other people, that I don’t consider myself religious. Yet, I have a 16″ Nataraja murti on display in my living room. I have it because of what it means to ME. I’ve heard the stories and meaning behind this murti (why he’s positioned this way, what he’s doing, why he’s doing it, etc…) and I like them. I like the stories and how they relate to MY life.

I recently had to part ways with a friend of mine due to our differences in regards to religious beliefs. I said that people should “believe what they wanted to believe in. Just as long as they weren’t hurting anybody. And, that there are many ‘Truths’ with everything.” She didn’t agree and we had to end our friendship after a several heated discussions. This was upsetting because we should all be able to believe in whatever without judgement or fear. Unfortunately, this is not a current reality.

I DO believe that there are many “Truths”. It doesn’t mean one is more “right” than the other. Just different. One of my favorite stories, that I heard in yoga class, was the story of the six blind men and the elephant. Check it out HERE. I think you might enjoy it!

I’m still on the fence about Gods, religions, purple rain and spirituality. I can only do what I feel is right for me, and my own personal experiences with them. I’m not saying that my way of thinking is right. It is what I believe, to be my “Truth.” Everyone needs something to believe in. Whether it be Catholicism, Buddhism, Hindu, Science, or nothing at all.  I think belief systems become a problem when one tells another that they are wrong, and “this is what is going to happen if you don’t believe this.” Spiritually/religion/whatever should stay within ourselves, make it our own. Our own truth.

I thought these stories in class were going to affect my downward dogs and handstands. But, they didn’t. I take from them what I want, make them my own, or just tune it out. Some of the stories are fun. It gives me something to listen to when I have my leg behind my head. :-)

And that’s the truth!

Good Yogis don’t wish their neighbors an early demise.

Posted on by Justin

 

So, I’m getting the hell out of here!

My first apartment in Los Angeles, from 2004-2008, was a great place that is located on Crescent Heights, in West Hollywood. It was fun, beautiful, neighbors were nice, convenient, close to work, perfect. I moved to Las Vegas with my partner at the time, and lived there for 2.5yrs. After my breakup in June of 2010, I stayed in Vegas for 6 more months before moving back to Los Angeles. I started searching for places in LA around November, 2010, when I received a phone call from my friend and old neighbor.

“Dude, your old apartment became available again! You should call the management company and find out what the rent will be.”
So, I called them. I felt a little nauseous after they told me that the rent was $400 more than what I was paying before. But, at that point, I just want out of Las Vegas, leaving my ex and a lot of bad memories behind. In addition to that, I was literally moving back “home.” Despite the rent increase, moving back into my old place was very comforting among all the chaos.
December was a crazy month. My mom had just died, I got laid off from work, AND I was moving. I would have probably paid $500 more in rent to ensure my comfort.

I’ve currently been here one year and nine months. After the first six months, I started to remember some of the things that annoyed me about this apartment complex. I live in a 25 unit building, shaped like a “U”, with a pool in the middle. It had a lot of esthetic value, but this place began to become my personal hell. The neighbors are fucking crazy!!!

This place is nicknamed “Melrose Place” because of all the drama that happens here. Neighbors sleeping with each other, cops are called on a regular basis, late night skinny dipping (which these people had NO business being naked in public). I would not be surprised if someone ended up drowning in the pool.

I usually keep to myself, but it’s hard when you are literally surrounded by people you can’t stand. And, with thin walls, it’s hard to get sleep, especially when your creepster neighbor has his TV against your bedroom wall. I’ve talked with him many times about the noise, and even called the cops on him a couple of times myself…but nothing changes. I cursed out the elderly couple upstairs because they said something to me that I didn’t like. Many times have I slept on the sofa,  just to get a decent night’s sleep. I would find myself feeling extremely anxious and resorted to taking Xanax on a regular basis. I would get SO wound up and filled with anger at the slightest hint of noise from either one of my surrounding neighbors.
I remember saying to myself, “Ya know, if my neighbors dropped dead right in front of me, I wouldn’t think twice about it. And, I’d probably would step right over them.”

Okay, as a yogi, I can tell you, that isn’t good.

My teacher once told me, “You can’t change others, you can only change yourself.”

Remembering that, I saved up money, found a place that was close by, and put my notice into my apartment complex. I moved at the end of the month, and I couldn’t be happier!
The new place is a street over, a cute space, great owners/management, they take pets, underground parking, has a pool, QUIET, rent controlled, AND it’s $240 cheaper than my current apartment. I CAN’T WAIT to get out of here.

I realized that I was happy in all other parts of my life, except in my home. The one place I should be happy.

I’m looking forward to my new apartment, a new chapter in my life. And, coming home, day after day, NOT wanting to strangle my neighbors.

 

New York, New York

Posted on by Justin

 

“I hate Cedars Sinai, I fucking hate Los Angeles, I just want to be back in New York! My flight was delayed due to weather last night. I only had four hours of sleep before having to come here today. The only reason I even bothered to show up was because I didn’t want you to give me another verbal warning like you did the last time. I’m in no mood to take care of patients today!”

I’m ninety-nine percent sure that those were my exact words to my supervisor, on my first day back to work. I had just got home from my first trip to New York City. It was a little fuzzy only because I was balling uncontrollably for about ten minutes in his office. I had my face in my hands, crying. I was crying like a little girl who’s brother had just ripped the head off of her barbie. And, the only reason my hands left my face was to curse and to tell him how much I hated where I was geographically.

It was really something.

Following the “Cry me a river” meeting, my boss sent me home.  I couldn’t have been there for more than thirty minutes.

To say that my first trip to Manhattan/New York was amazing, would be a bit of an understatement. It’s still hard for me to find the right words to describe my six days there. I’ve always heard how great the city was for years, but never had a huge desire to go. Once I finally got there, I got it. I just got it.
The friend who I was visiting was an incredible host. He was able to spend every day with me while I was on my vacation, from morning until night. He lives in the East Village, which was so cool. I didn’t want to do a lot of touristy crap. I wanted my friend to show me HIS New York. Here are some of the memorable highlights:

1. Spent the first day basically restaurant and pub hopping. We were drunk most of the time.
2. Times Square
3. Assisted my friend while he did makeup on the Tranny who got kicked off of America’s Next Top Model.
4. Took the subway, a choo choo train, a bus, and a ferry in order to get to Fire Island.
5. Running running hand in hand through the sand, drunk, from one part of island to the other, at 3am. (We had just left from watching a bad drag show)
6. Falling off a peer and scraping the shit out of my leg on the island.
7. Eating a dessert that you would step over your own mother to get.
8. Holding hands with my friend and running around the city.
9. Going to the Central Park Zoo
10. Seeing a broadway show (Peter and The Starcatcher)
11. My friend agreeing to take a yoga class from an amazing teacher I know in Brooklyn.
12. Seeing The Stonewall Inn
13. Seeing Carrie Bradshaw’s apt
14. And, on my last day…my friend showing me The Statue of Liberty on his computer because we ran out of time to see it in person.

 

I never realized it before, but by comparison, Los Angeles is really boring. Everyone has the same car, wears the same brand name clothes, and strives to be buff and beautiful. Yes, New York loves its fashion, too.  But, for the most part, everyone wants to be unique individuals. I also found it easier to strike up conversations with people in NY. People just love talking in that city, which is the opposite here in LA; no one wants to know anyone.

I met/saw more interesting people in six days than I had in a long time on the west coast. It was incredible, and very inspiring.
Naturally, halfway through my vacation, I asked myself, “What the hell am I doing in Los Angeles?? How and when can I move here?” I truly fell in love with the city and I am looking forward to my next trip out there.

I also realize that I was on vacation. I’m not walking around in the snow in the winter, and sweating profusely in the summer. I’m not hauling groceries up three flights of stairs or paying an outrageous amount for rent. I was completely free of responsibilities and it felt amazing. It wasn’t my every day reality.  But, it’s nice to escape every now and then.

 

For now, LA is my home, my reality.  My dog, cat, amazing friends, and yoga kula are here. LA is a great city;  you just have to see through all of its bullshit to really appreciate it. And, I can. :-)

And who knows, I may move to NYC one of these days. And, if not, I will always remember the incredible experiences I had during my first time there. The first, of many times to come.

Thanks for everything, C.

XOXO.

 

PS- If you’re ever out that way, check out Julie Dohrman’s classes at VIRAYOGA, in the city. She also teaches at Bend And Bloom in Brooklyn. You won’t regret it!

And, you can grab that Prune/mascarpone cheese dessert at Frankies 570 on Hudson St in Manhattan. You’ll DIE!

I realize this post wasn’t very “yoga-ish.” But, ehhh…it is what it is. There were also way too many moments during my trip to write down or to put into words. And, I don’t know…most of the specials ones, in my mind, are just for me. :-)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Date A Yogi? Or Dip Into The Population?

Posted on by Justin

 

Dating: is a form of courtship consisting of social activities done by two people with the aim of each assessing the other’s suitability as a partner in an intimate relationship or as a spouse.

So, I’m actively dating again. Hooray?? Let me start out by saying that dating can be very rewarding. On the other hand, nothing causes more anxiety and sheer frustration than “getting back out there.” Dating men, to me, is much like potty training a puppy. They can both be cute, sweet and loving companions. They can also be totally annoying, won’t listen to a damn thing you say, and can do things that make you want to choke them out. Fortunately, only one will piss on your rug (if you’re lucky).

It’s been exactly two years since me and my ex broke up. It wasn’t an awful relationship, but it was pretty bad. It took me a while to feel good about myself again, to love myself. My yoga kula, along with my close friends, definitely were the ones who lifted me back up where I needed to be. I literally told myself, out loud, “You will focus on yourself and get back on your feet, emotionally.” And, I did. So, yes, as of this very day, I’m extremely content with my life. I have a good job, good friends, my yoga practice is better than ever. I’m good!

I truly believe that when a person is happy with who they are and where they are emotionally, others are drawn to them. And, that’s exactly what happened. Over the past six months, I’ve noticed that I have been approached a lot more by men, and more opportunities in my daily life have presented themselves to me. It’s funny how that works. I’ve actually had people ask for my advice in how they can improve their state of minds. The only thing I can tell them is, “Go take a yoga class.” :-)

But, here’s my “problem” with dating. I find it hard, sometimes to relate to other gay men who aren’t in the yoga community. I’ve actually used to get anxiety about it. For the past two years, I’ve found solace in the yoga community. And, I’ve met some amazing gay men along the way. I’ve seen the gay community in a different light with yoga. They are extremely sweet, supportive and are incredibly hot in handstands. They are a good example of how I would like the entire gay community to be.

Gay pride just passed a few weeks ago, here in Los Angeles, and one of the first things a friend of mine told me about Pride was, “Happy Pride! Use a condom!” This is not what I think about when I think about Pride, but unfortunately, it’s a reality. There were countless parties to go to all around town, and I was invited to several. But, when I was considering actually going, I became anxious. I’ve been to the parties where everyone is loaded on alcohol or cocaine. It’s extremely hard for me to relate to a “community” like this these days. Because it’s just not me.  I’m not saying everyone who doesn’t do yoga, puts cocaine up their noses. There are exceptions to every rule, of course. Yogis aren’t perfect either.

I’m just saying that my life is so different since I started my yoga practice. I have a 16″ Nataraja murti wrapped in Mala beads, in my bedroom for God sake! Anyone that I date just has to understand that I’m going to do be doing yoga three to four times a week as well. It’s not just exercise. It’s become a part of my life and it keeps me smiling. It’s taught me to care more about people, try to find the good in everything, and not to be quick with judging others. It would be nice to find someone like that as well, ya know?

I spoke with a friend of mine, who is a yoga teacher, and is also gay. And, I talked with him about my dilemma about dating a yogi or a non yogi. He told me something that really resonated with me, and opened my eyes a bit.

“My practice too, has changed me, much like yours has changed you. We just have to remember that there are so many great people out there…all different types, and everyone has something to offer.

For a long time, i would judge people without really getting to know them…especially if they were like west hollywood boys, party drinker boys. I didn’t think i was judging, but i was…i was just looking at that aspect, and writing them off…I thought i only can date someone who is x y and z, and is interested in yoga, spiritual things etc.

But then i realized there are so many ways people connect to life…and although they may not all have an asana practice or this or that, my criteria grew into, is this person being authentic?  That’s really all that matters. ”

So, with that, I’m keeping an open mind and heart for someone… authentic and caring.

I’m ready.

“Me? A Yoga Teacher? F**k That!”

Posted on by Justin

 

 

I’ve only been practicing yoga for two years now, this past April. I may have had countless hours on my mat, own a Shiva Nataraja murti, and listen to “yoga music” on the regular, but I still consider myself a newbie when it comes to yoga. Just when i think I know a pose thoroughly, my teachers always have a way of making me feel it like I never have before. There are always revisions or tweaks to everything.

 

It’s a very humbling experience when you think you know something, but then quickly realize that you know nothing all.


I am a very good student. I follow instructions very well, I am very dedicated. I’m always wanting to know more. If anyone were to watch me in class, I would probably  be staring at my teacher in awe and admiration. Much like a five year old would gawk at an animated Pixar film.

Many people of my friends have asked me, “Why don’t you just become a yoga instructor?” Karen, my teacher in Las Vegas, was even making me keep track of my studio hours just in case I decide to teach one day. As flattering as it is for people to think of my practice in that way…nothing sounds more disgusting to me.

There’s something to be said to just being a student. As a student, I get the full benefits of yoga. Every day I am able to walk into class and be inspired, get plenty of exercise, have an amazing savasana, and leave completely blissed out.  I think to myself, “All of this was for me.” Why would I want to change that?

As a teacher, my experience with my practice and yoga would change completely. It would force me think about things like:

1. Do I have enough students in the class so I can make “X” amount of money?
2. Would I be financially stable as a Yoga teacher?
3. I’m limited in what I can do in class because there are so many new people.
4. When can I make time for my own practice?
5. I would feel responsible for people if they got injured in class.
6. I’d have to hear about teachers sleeping with their students or other colleagues.

I’m not interested in ANY of it.

Some teachers can do this effortlessly, but I know it takes a lot of work. I am grateful for the teachers who can accomplish this. Without them, I wouldn’t be in class. You have to have that “something” in order to teach yoga. Well, I have come across teachers who don’t have this “thing” about them. But, you won’t see me in any of their classes. :-)

There is so much more to yoga than just downward dog and warrior two poses. After two years, I feel like I’m just beginning to scratch the surface of what yoga really is all about. How could I try to teach others something that I don’t even completely understand? It doesn’t seem right. I don’t feel comfortable teaching someone handstands when I can’t even stay up in the middle of the room more than ten seconds.

I go to class three or four days a week to be inspired, to grow emotionally and physically. And, I want that feeling every time I’m in the studio. Being a teacher, I feel, would take all away from me. I wouldn’t be fun anymore.
Having fun is one thing that I’m interested in doing.

I’m so thankful that I have teachers who inspire me everyday.
I’m a damn good student. But, me, a yoga teacher?

F**k that!

 

 

I’m A Yogi, Not A Hippie: I Like My V-necks And Tight Jeans

Posted on by Justin

 

A friend mentioned to me recently, “I really dig that you are so into yoga and that you’re not a hippie.”   “Are you kidding? I take baths on the regular, I love shopping at H&M, and I wouldn’t be caught dead at Burning man. I don’t even have an interest in going to Coachella. I love yoga, but it doesn’t mean I love wild eclectic dancing and sweating profusely in the desert.”

I have found that most people associate yogis with hippies. I mean, I thought the same thing until I actually became a part of the “community.” My first teacher in Las Vegas was, by no means, a hippie. She plays nothing but rock music in her classes. Going to festivals like Shaktifest and Wanderlust were not on her agenda. This was my first real experience with yoga; rock music in class, long holds in poses, and a firey teacher that had lots of fun. I didn’t even hear true “yoga music” until I moved to Los Angeles.

California yogis are quite a bit different than what I was used to, and it took me a while to adjust. It seems like every other month, there is some festival going on where yogis from all parts of the country, get together for hours of asana, music and dancing. And, honestly, all of that sounds pretty unappealing. The fact is, is that these kinds of festivals are not me. When I moved back to LA, I noticed that my practice became more than just poses and trying to keep my mind off of my crazy ex boyfriend. Tony Giuliano, my teacher in LA, was the first person who introduced me to “Yoga music.” There are some great Kirtan artists and other types of musicians out there. I started to appreciate this music because some of  it is really beautiful. I began to become interested in the philosophy part of yoga as well. I learned more about all of the Hindu deities, what they represented, and paid closer attention of the ancient stories behind them.

So, my practice, I realized, was more than just the asana. It became a way of life, essentially. My relationships with other people improved, my eating habits changed, my physical body changed as well. Eventually, I realized that my selfish, asshole ways of thinking were slipping away, and it wasn’t just about me anymore. This new way of thinking was reenforced by every class I attended, or with every conversation that I had with my teachers. I try to look for the good in other people first, and I am constantly setting good intentions. It helped me to smile quite a bit more.

Then I thought, “Oh my god, I’m becoming of those yoga people. Today, I’m listening to yoga music and smiling at people for no reason. Does this mean I have to go to the Bhakti/Shaktifests, while dancing wildly to chanting shamans tomorrow? Am I going to have to eventually own a big, flappy shirt, linen pants, and straight man sandals???” Because I’m just not the one to wear something like that.  I honestly think I am somewhere in the middle. I just happen to be a gay guy who loves “yoga music”, such as Shantala (who I’m going to see this Friday), but also likes his espresso, fitted jeans and light blue H&M t-shirts. They bring out my eyes for god sake! So, to me, I have the best of both worlds. I’m not that trendy, but trendy enough to not be a hippie. Does this make sense? :-/

After two years of practicing yoga, I finally got it. No one in the yoga community really cares about what you wear, or how you choose to to live your life. I have great friends who love these yoga festivals and who are self proclaimed hippies. But, again, that is not me. Ultimately, we all just want to travel through life lightly and happily, while setting good intentions for ourselves.

I may do some rockin’ asana while listening to some Kirtan music, but you won’t find me in the desert with no air conditioning. That is NOT the business! And could you imagine me in straight man sandals? The one’s with the velcro? Yah, YOU KNOW what I’m talking about. All stars are more my style.  :-)

 

XOXO.

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Southeast Texas

Posted on by Justin

(Oil derrick/gun tattoo, on a sleeveless patron at a restaurant in my hometown)

 

I just came back from a week in my hometown of Beaumont, Texas. And, before I left Los Angeles, I got a lot of people saying things like, “Texas for a whole week? Wow, good luck.” I even started questioning why I booked my trip for that length of time. My visits typically tend to be around 3 days, and an entire week in the Lone Star State, was pushing it. I was born and raised in Beaumont, Texas, and I lived in Houston for a few years before moving to California. A lot of people would question me about Texas and it’s people. “Aren’t there a lot of friendly people there?,” I would be asked. My response was usually, “Yes, if you think the same way they do.” A gay, agnostic yogi with blue color in his hair, has a way of standing out in a crowd down there. I think it’s safe to say that I’m not a huge fan of Texas for various reasons.

My goal for this trip was simple; see Jesika(my sister), go fishing with my dad, eat some unhealthy Texas food, and get out. I had such a great time with my family. It’s usually all business when I visit, because I’m not there to take in the lovely scenery or the culture. If it weren’t for my family, I wouldn’t step foot in the state. I try my best to not outwardly hate Texas, because a lot of good things are there. It’s where my family some of my good friends live, it’s where I  got my education, George Bush(Just kidding). So, yes, I have some good memories. There are also a lot of bad ones, too.

On every visit, I’m always conscious of what I wear, where I go, and who I hang around with. In a town loaded with camouflage and cowboy boots, my light blue v-neck, plaid shorts and converse, are quit noticeable. I remember vividly, the teasing and hatred I felt because I didn’t seem to fit in. And, the prejudice towards everyone else who isn’t a white man, was just ridiculous. Recently, a friend and I were discussing the racism issue in Beaumont. I remember her saying, “The black people there always seem so angry. But, that’s probably because the white people are so racist and hateful towards them. It’s a constant battle.”  And, I’ve learned that most of the people there are comfortable with the bubble they live in. Most have no interest in knowing anything else than their immediate surroundings. I don’t understand how anyone can judge people, when they themselves, haven’t experienced life outside of their comfort zone.

I absolutely, can not relate.

Keep in mind, I’m trying not to generalize everyone. But, this was my interpretation of the surroundings where I grew up. If you were a straight, white, Christian…you were A-okay!  Just thinking about this makes me irritable enough to want a Xanax.

When I moved out of Texas in 2004, I quickly realized that there is more going on in the world besides bayous and fried fish. I discovered culture, the mountains, the [clean] ocean, amazing sushi, and some incredible people. I’ve been out of the country and to many other states as well. I’m so grateful for these amazing life experiences. I’ve grown so much as a person because of this, and I can’t wait to see what’s next!

But, you can’t change people. The only person I have control over, is myself. I just have to remember where I came from, and learn from it. So, for me, it’s always difficult to go “home.” At the same time, my sister and my dad are completely content there.  It’s their home, and I try not to badmouth it when I visit. But, I have to say, it is quite difficult.

Keep in mind guys, this my own personal opinion and experiences, of growing up as a gay man in southeast Texas. I am not superior to anyone else…just giving you a glimpse into my childhood surroundings.

Man, that felt good to get out!

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My Grandmother Just Passed Away

Posted on by Justin

Louise Wismer, my grandmother, passed away last Thursday (April 5, 2012), at the age of 85. And, to be honest, I’m not sure how I feel about it. When I had first heard about her death, I was sad and angry at the same time. I wanted to rush to my computer and start typing away in the blog to get my thoughts out. Instead, I took a step back, and thought about what I really wanted to say.  Before I get bombarded with condolences, please allow me to explain.

I always believed that my grandmother and I had a very close, loving relationship. I would stay and her and my grandpa’s house almost every summer when I was a kid. They would take me on small trips, my grandpa would teach me how to oil paint on canvas, and I would help her cook dinners. My grandmother was at every orchestra concert that I was in during school (I played the violin), every church event I was a part of, and we celebrated holidays at her house. So, it’s safe to say that she had an active role in my upbringing. She and my grandpa would always tell me how proud I made them, and how much they loved me. I had no reason to question this.

This woman was extremely independent, never complained about any problems she may have had, kept busy and up to date with modern technology (we would chat on AIM for god sake). The woman worked until she was 83! With that being said, I have come to realize something over the years…everything changes. It’s inevitable. In 2007, my paw paw, and her husband of sixty plus years, passed away. That was the first time I had ever seen her cry. I couldn’t image losing someone who was that close to you. And, as to be expected, she changed a bit. Her sadness was evident. My aunts and the rest of the family made sure she was never really alone or ever bored. I would call her several times a week as well to chat with her and keep her up to date on whatever I was doing. Her spirits did lift a bit for a while.

Then BAM! My mom, her daughter, passes away in December of 2010. And from then on, I didn’t know who she was. I’m going to tell you right now, death can bring out the best or worst in people. Unfortunately, I experienced the latter. There was a LOT of drama following my mother’s death, and most of which was my grandmother’s doing. I go in specific detail about those events in THIS blog entry. When my mom died, I was nine months into my yoga practice and was ridding my life of negativity. My aunts and my grandmother were a part of my cleansing, my healing. As much as I loved my family, I refused to be around such hatred; It wasn’t healthy for me. How could one word tear a family apart? But, it did. I haven’t spoken to my aunts for a year and a half now. And, as of a few days ago, I will never be able to speak to my grandmother again. It’s not that I never tried to reconcile, it’s just that she wasn’t interested.

My life has changed so much, for the better, over the past year and a half. I’m the happiest that I’ve ever been and I’m surrounded by people who love me. I couldn’t imagine harboring such anger towards someone, and a family member no less, until my death. I never want to know what that feels like. I have forgiven my aunts long ago for their actions, and I hope they can find happiness in their lives. We would have never known my grandmother died, had my dad not looked in the paper and saw her obituary. No one even called us.

After sharing this news with my yoga teacher, she told me something that I really liked. “I understand your anger, my friend. They aren’t evil. They have hurt you and your family. Think of them as wayward children who are lost and don’t know to find their way. You are on your path of love and forgiveness. Forgive them and send them peace; It’s the best work we can do.” I have forgiven them.

I know my grandmother still loves me and is proud that I’m her grandson. I truly hope that she is finally happy and at peace. I do miss her.

I love you maw maw!

 

“It’s easy to forgive someone who deserves it. However, it’s not as easy to forgive someone who has harmed you in some way. But, we need to try, as they are the ones who need it the most.” ~ JOHN FRIEND

Yoga Snob? Or Have I Just Found My Niche?

Posted on by Justin

“Would you like to come to a Kundalini class with me this afternoon?”, my friend asked. Having been my first Kundalini class a little over a year ago, I quickly replied, “No, I’m good. I’m not really down with that.”  To which he replied, ”Wow. I’m surprised how closed you are to it. Interesting. What’s coming up for you? What’s the resistance?” And, I had to think about it for a minute. Am I a Yoga Snob?!?

When I think of a “Yoga Snob,” I think about someone who truly believes that their style of yoga reigns supreme. In their eyes, other types of yoga fail by comparison, and they aren’t afraid to let others know about it.

Like I said earlier, I agreed to take my first Kundalini class with a friend, a little over a year ago. He didn’t want to go alone and I had never tried it, so off we went, mat in hand. The class was held at a woman’s home in Hollywood, sometime in the evening. After walking into the “yoga room,” I quickly realized that I wasn’t in Anusaraland anymore. Dimly lit with candles, I felt like I was on a camping trip in India. The room was draped with tapestries, was full of hindu deities, crystals, and sage, of course. None of the other students were in yoga/workout gear either.  The lady of the house instructed me and the five other students to form a circle and have a seat. Oh, and I was to place my mat off to the side, as I would not be needing it? At that point, I became slightly nervous.

The entire class was breathing, chanting, singing, followed by a lot more breathing. I felt a little uncomfortable when the teacher talked about our anal locks (Mula Bandha) while we were performing the “Breath of Fire,” arms raised. I know many people who love Kundalini, but I clearly wasn’t getting it. I felt out of place. I thought to  myself, “Who am I? Why am I here?” At that point, I think I would have been more comfortable sitting through Catholic mass. And, for a gay agnostic, that was saying a lot. When class ended, I scooped up my unused mat, dropped a few bucks in the dontation bowl, and headed to the car rather quickly. My friend and I parted ways at the end of the night with hugs. And, with me telling him, “Don’t ever call me again.”

I do believe I’m open to different styles of yoga, as I’ve been in many different kinds of classes. Anusara just resonates with me.

I have taken another Kundalini class since, and it wasn’t that bad. I did some research on it beforehand, and had a better understanding of the concept. But, I don’t believe it’s for me as of yet. And, who knows, it may never be.  I’ve even been spotted in a Bikram class before, only to realize that the combination of carpeted floors and intense sweating, is not something I can tolerate. On the other hand, some Anusara terms such as “Inner body bright,” and “Melt your heart,” makes some people want to vomit. I totally get it. But, the cool thing is…there are my styles of yoga from which to choose, so we can find our place, our niche.

So, are we all just Yoga Snobs? Or have we just found our niches?