Sunday, January 27, 2008 Estremera: Yoga lessons By Stella A. Estremera Spider's Web
I'M NOT into yoga (yet), but I have found that you don't need to go to class to learn yoga. You just have to deal with daily realities and frustration and ponder on it. Ohhhmm....
Like say a computer that conks out every once in a while because there's a lot of heavy graphic artwork being done. What will you do if it conks out in the middle of a huge addition you have done to a huge artwork you're making and it refuses to budge, with your work still unsaved?
You take deep breaths, close your eyes and tell yourself that you have two choices:
1. Scream your frustration out, make hell for everybody, and up your blood pressure several notches, or...
2. Come to terms with the fact that even if you scream, get angry, and suffer hypertension this will not bring back your unsaved graphic design.
And so, what do you do?
You turn off your computer, go out and puff a few poison and ponder on how you have already become too dependent on one darn thingamagig called a computer. Return to that thingamagig, boot it up and start again after having realized that had it been the pre-computer age then you would have been hunkered down on a plate with ink and paints and spending hours puffing poison and doing nothing because you have to wait for the paint to dry up before you can put another layer. And then after all those painting and puffing and waiting, a bottle of ink will be toppled over, splashing all over your work. Same thing.
As the old black and white TV of days gone by would flash once the picture disappears, "It's not your fault, folks."
But of course, it pays to let off steam every once in a while. It's good for your heart. And so when the computer conks out more often than what is deemed productive, just go out and threaten your computer-in-charge. "You better fix it right now or I will throw it away if it conks out on me again, okay?" At least you asked his permission. Boy, that sure gets results, very quick results indeed. That's when you smile and go home. "It's not my fault, folks."
After you have calmed yourself, you review how much time has been wasted, see what still needs to be done, how much time remains, and then compute how fast you should go to still make it. You then count how many days you can go without much sleep, how many hours you have to force yourself to conk out, then how much effort it will take to stay right on the groove.
You take deep breaths again, reminding yourself you will not be hypertensive about this because you will not be of any use if you're dead.
After everything, you go back to work paced much faster and grimly determined to beat the new deadline you have set. It's all a game of speed and resistance. Some call it inner power. I call it the natural slack. Being human, we love to slack down given any excuse, and yes, our favorite pastime is to procrastinate. But the potential to do more is there, we just have to call on it.
*****
Now to my office. My office window faces the east and so when I'm rushing and thus have to work very early in the morning (like sometimes just after sun-up), I get the full dose of a morning sun, glaring, staring, darn taking its time to rise and be off beyond the ceiling.
For a pair of still sleepy eyes in a body that's hunkered down to a computer tinkering with graphic details that have to be tweaked here and there, it means a darn glare that gets in the way of seeing what the real colors are in your monitor.
But, you can't shoo the sun away, and so you simply appreciate it for what it is and think of all those feng shui believers who would want to be in an office like yours. After all a personal space that faces the morning sun is the best place to be for success, prosperity, and fulfillment. And I say, fulfillment will always be in your heart for as long as the sun rises for you and for as long as you have done your part. The morning sun then that glares at my bleary eyes is but a stark reminder that I'm alive for yet another day and that alone is good news enough. The glare will be gone after a max of four hours; anyway, another day to your life is worth more than that.
