Rox Does Yoga

Yoga, Wellness, and Life

Some Personal Reflections June 16, 2011

Filed under: reflections — R. H. Ward @ 6:41 pm
Tags: ,

“Buddhist training offers an alternative approach to experiencing life from an essentially fear-based perspective of survival in favor of experiencing it as a parade of odd and wonderful events.” – Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche, The Joy of Living, page 81

Dear readers, here at the yoga blog I try to keep the focus on what you’re here for: the yoga. But lately I’ve been taking stock of where I’m at and what else is going on in my life, and I thought you might indulge me in some personal reflections.

One year ago next week, I married an amazing man. Afterwards we crashed out for a while, then got started planning a spectacular (and yogaful!) honeymoon in Belize. With those milestones over, I thought 2011 would be a year to get back to some old projects and start on new ones. I had no idea how much sheer stuff was going to happen in 2011. I had some vague goals in mind: make progress with yoga and maybe look for a teacher training program; get back to my writing and try to make some progress towards starting a freelance editing business; and on a personal level, think about maybe buying a house. Here’s what’s actually happened so far this year:

  • I found a teacher training program, signed up, and made a lot of progress. This, you know in detail already.
  • On the writing and editing front, I attended a writing conference in February, reconnecting with old friends and making valuable new connections. I started this blog, which has been in different ways both easier and more difficult than I expected. I wrote my first professional book review and sent it out to a number of magazines, I had three poems accepted at literary journals, I did a proofreading job for a small press I like a lot, and biggest news of all, I found out that my chapbook manuscript won the editor’s prize in a contest and will be published next year.
  • F and I found a realtor, started house hunting, fell in love with a house, made an offer, got turned down, made another offer, got accepted, had a home inspection and a termite inspection and a radon inspection and a sewer inspection, applied for a mortgage, got an appraisal, and settlement is scheduled for June 27, god willing and the creek don’t rise.
  • A bunch of unexpected things also happened, some good, some less good. I won a big award at my current job. F got some welcome recognition at his job. F and I traveled to Arizona for a great vacation and a wonderful wedding. We had a getaway weekend in Rhode Island with fabulous friends. I took an eight-week African dance class, we saw an amazing play in NYC (twice), I became a member at a museum I love and went to a bunch of really interesting lectures. I had a business trip that involved my presence in Chicago for less than 24 hours. I had an extremely minor surgery, F fell down some stairs and fractured his shoulder, and we got rear-ended on the highway (we’re both fine, but the damages on the car are estimated in the thousands of dollars). None of those things except for attending the wedding were things I could have planned in advance.

And 2011 is only half over! Look at how many things I’ve done and how many things have happened already. On the horizon, I know that we’re going to get our car fixed, spend all our savings on a house, and pack all our stuff and move into said house; I know that F is going to attend a two-week writing conference that will be good for his career (but lonely for his loving wife), and I’ll finish my teacher training and become a registered yoga teacher (again, god willing and the creek don’t rise). I know that we have these things planned now, but I don’t know how the details are going to unfold. I don’t know what wonderful surprises the rest of 2011 has in store for us.

So, happy early-anniversary to my wonderful F. I assume we’ll still be married, not only on our actual anniversary on Monday, but for many more wild, enchanting, surprising, amazing years. I know that no matter what the rest of 2011 has in store for us, we’ll handle it awesomely together.

And, dear readers, happy blogiversary. We’ve been together for three months now, and it’s been pretty cool, I think. Here’s to experiencing life not as something to survive, but as a parade of odd and wonderful events. Here’s to embracing whatever comes.

 

Thoughts from Last Night’s Class June 15, 2011

Filed under: reflections,yoga — R. H. Ward @ 7:06 pm
Tags: , , , ,

A few miscellaneous thoughts on last night’s yoga class:

  • N’s classes are a pretty amazing workout. I feel challenged in a completely different way than I do in J’s class. It’s kind of humbling, actually, because I think it’s not hard for me to get puffed up about my yoga practice, and N’s class brings me right back down to earth where I belong. It doesn’t matter how bendy or strong you are – what matters is the intention behind the practice – but really, I am not so bendy or strong as I think I am.
  • N’s class also serves to make me feel old. Last night, my back hurt, the backs of my knees hurt, my standing leg hurt all through the balance poses, and my arms hurt and wobbled all over the place. The arms are a strength thing, and clearly I’m working on that just by showing up, but the back and the knees could be age-related. N’s classes, while inspiring me to do more, work harder, and get stronger, also remind me to be careful, be mindful, and not hurt myself.
  • Speaking of the standing leg in balance poses, N had us do another balance sequence that kicked my butt again. I think the issue for me is that we’re going from balance poses where we bent forward (like ardha chandrasana) into balance poses where we’re upright (like crane and tree). Plus, putting that much pressure on the standing leg for several poses in a row without a break is really rough, and N doesn’t give us time to shake it out after we come down. (I say “without a break” but I gave myself several breaks last night, and it was still really tough.) This looks to be just one more area where I need to practice ahimsa and be gentle with myself.
  • When I find myself hurting in yoga class, or unable for whatever reason to keep up and do the pose as everyone else is doing it, I have a tendency to get angry. How long have we been holding this?!, I’ll think to myself, or Down-dog twist again? We’ve done it five times now! Last night it was really hard for me to practice tapas and work through the burn, and really hard to practice ahimsa and counter those negative thoughts with positive ones. Again, I have to turn my brain around and see this as an opportunity: a difficult yoga class is frustrating, but it’s going to make me stronger, and my negative thoughts are natural, but they give me a chance to practice some loving-kindness towards myself. If I need to rest, it’s okay to rest.
  • I hate ardha chandrasana. I really, really do. I’m practicing it more this month and I’m improving, but still. It is just Not Fun.
  • And speaking of Not Fun, someone near me in last night’s class was experiencing a gas problem. Now, I have nothing but sympathy for whoever it was – I’ve been that person before, we’ve all been that person – but it just makes the whole “deep even breathing” thing a little more difficult. Grabbing my lavender-filled eye pillow for savasana was a big relief, let me tell you.
 

Soaring on Two Wings June 13, 2011

Filed under: books,reflections,yoga philosophy — R. H. Ward @ 2:27 pm
Tags:

A few months back, I was doing some yoga reading and came across the idea of having “two wings” to support you in your practice. In the February 2011 issue of Yoga Journal, Stacey Mietus writes about re-learning yoga after a serious injury (page 20). Mietus had been practicing yoga in a competitive way, always trying aggressively to improve her postures, but after hurting her neck she had to find a new approach. She quotes as an inspiration B.K.S. Iyengar, who wrote, “A bird cannot fly with one wing. In the same way, we need the two wings of practice and renunciation to soar.” Mietus had been practicing hard, but to keep herself healthy, she had to learn to balance with renunciation: not comparing herself with others, not judging herself when her body needed to rest. Her injury forced her to back off and take a new, gentler approach; now she strives to practice with both wings to stay balanced.

I read Mietus’s story in Yoga Journal while riding the train home from work. Later that same day, I settled down with the book The Joy of Living by Tibetan Buddhist monk Yongey Mingur Rinpoche for a little bedtime reading, and I was surprised to see Rinpoche bring up the very same idea of flying on two wings! He uses the concept in relation to Buddhist practice and study. The teachings of Buddha are often grouped into two categories: teachings on wisdom, and teachings on practice. Rinpoche tells us that Buddha himself compared these two categories to the wings of a bird, because you need both in order to fly.  Without wisdom, you can’t practice properly; without practice, you may be wise but the wisdom does you no good.

Although yoga isn’t a Buddhist practice, Rinpoche’s description of the two wings in Buddhism has much in common with Mietus’s experience with yoga. Rather than putting all her energy into simply practicing hard, she needed to examine her yoga practice and approach it with more wisdom to avoid hurting herself.

Reading about the two wings in two disparate books on the same day really struck me – clearly this is something I ought to be thinking about! I like to practice yoga in a physically challenging way, but unless I am mindful in my practice, my yoga becomes only a workout without satisfying me in a spiritual way. On the other hand, right now my life is so busy that I spend a lot of time thinking and writing about yoga but don’t have much time to actually practice yoga on my mat. I crave both the mindfulness and knowledge as well as the physical practice, and I’m happiest when I have these in balance. Similarly, I often read books like Rinpoche’s about Buddhism, but until I sit down and practice meditation, the knowledge I gain from the book won’t do me any good. The practice and the knowledge go hand in hand.

In our busy world, it’s often difficult to strike a balance. What are the two wings that sustain you, and how do you keep them balanced?

 

mid-month check-in on pranayama practice June 9, 2011

Filed under: breath,checking in,reflections — R. H. Ward @ 1:38 pm
Tags: ,

It’s been over two weeks since my last teacher training weekend, and my next one is in just over two weeks. So how am I doing with the daily pranayama practice?

I think I’ve been doing okay. I have practiced my diaphragmatic breathing, three-part breathing, and alternate nostril breathing for 14 days out of the past 18 days. Sometimes I practice in the morning, sometimes in the evening, sometimes somewhere random like at my desk at work, in my parked car, or on the train (I can do regular breathing no problem in random places, it’s just the alternate nostril breathing that looks a little crazy to passersby and that I try to be careful of). I’ve been keeping my journal and tracking the time of day (or location if needed) and how many of each type of breath, plus any thoughts that come to me during the practice. Here are some reflections so far:

May 25: I’m starting to see correlations with the left and right dominant nostril that match up with what I’ve been taught (that when the left nostril is dominant, the body’s energy is calming, soothing, lethargic; when right nostril is dominant, body’s energy is vigorous, energetic, warmed up). I got to work yesterday and was tired – left nostril was dominant. Busy all evening, energy high, and it’s time for bed – right nostril was dominant. Woke up at 3:30 in the morning and couldn’t get back to sleep – right dominant. Woke up with the alarm and didn’t want to get out of bed – left dominant. Just observing the patterns for now and trying a little to influence them with alternate nostril breathing.

May 26: The distinct movements of the three-part breath are becoming easier, more automatic (after three days of practice).

May 27: I’ve been doing three-part breathing at odd times, like on the train or in the car, not just when I’m sitting quietly at home.

May 31: I’ve noticed that diaphragmatic breathing makes me yawn – the breath just doesn’t feel deep enough to fill up my lungs completely. This is in contrast to what my teachers and the book say, that diaphragmatic breathing is best. In my experience, three-part breathing is a better, deeper, more filling breath. Am I missing something?

June 1: I noticed that diaphragmatic breathing is more comfortable and feels deeper when I’m lying on my back (practicing at bedtime). Three-part breath is more uncomfortable to practice while lying down.

June 5: Almost halfway through my month of breathing. Starting to feel some calmness during three-part breath, but diaphragmatic breath is still uncomfortable and alternate nostril breathing is unpleasant because one nostril is always too clogged. The alternate-nostril technique doesn’t seem to improve the clogged-up nostril but rather seems to make it worse (this has been an issue for the past few days, maybe allergies? I’m breathing fine and clearly when I can use both nostrils). Also, note that it’s hard to practice pranayama while wearing jeans.

Overall, though, much like with my posture write-ups, I find it difficult to write about what I’m feeling during a practice. With the pranayama, I’m often thinking about how clogged my nose is, or I’m thinking about how many more breaths I need to do, and that just makes me feel agitated. Or I’m thinking about something else entirely (which happens during my yoga practice too), and then I realize I’m doing it and then I feel bad. But what’s the root, baseline feeling? Is this one of those things where, just by observing a situation, you change what’s happening and make it different? Particles are like that in physics. Maybe brains behave the same way.

 

thoughts on doing posture write-ups June 7, 2011

Filed under: reflections,yoga — R. H. Ward @ 12:52 pm
Tags: ,

This month we’re supposed to do posture write-ups on any two standing poses. So far, I’ve chosen the poses I want to write about: wide-legged standing forward fold, and ardha chandrasana. Both of these poses are very challenging for me in different ways. However, I’m still struggling with the idea of observing and discussing my own experience of the pose.

The first month, with the forward folds, writing about my own experience was really difficult for me. Last month, we had to write up our most and least favorite poses, so it was much easier because we were picking poses that we actually had feelings about. Now we’re back to “pick any pose in this category”, and when I think about the regular poses that I do well (for example, triangle pose, or warrior 1), I can’t for the life of me think of what I feel in these poses. When I try to pay attention when I’m doing the pose, I have no problem noticing how my body feels, but I don’t see anything specific related to that particular pose going on in my mind. Other than anatomic things (like having to be careful of my knee in triangle pose), I feel pretty much the same no matter what pose I’m doing. Calm, strong, distracted, tired: it just depends on my mood that day. No particular pose really stirs up anything specific for me. Having to do this exercise is really frustrating, it feels fake to me, I feel very resistant to it, and I will go out on a limb and say I kind of hate it.

So, this month, I am picking two poses that are challenging for me, because if a pose is physically challenging, I can talk about that and be excused from talking about my stupid monkey brain and how it’s not doing anything useful. However, this is still problematic because I just decided a few days ago which poses I would write up, and so I haven’t been practicing them all month, so I still might not have anything good to write about. I did the “I don’t have anything to write about so I’m writing about that” thing the first month and I don’t know if I can get away with it again, although in a sense, if that’s still where I’m at with this, then that’s a valid place to be. I’ll be interested to see what comments I get back from last month’s assignment, maybe that’ll help.

 

Teaching Practice by the Pond June 2, 2011

Filed under: reflections,teacher training — R. H. Ward @ 1:27 pm
Tags:

Pond House Yoga 2For Memorial Day, F and I rented a house in Rhode Island with some friends, to get away for the weekend. The house was in a fairly secluded area, right next to a pond, and it had tons of bedrooms and a big kitchen and plenty of space for all of us. Before the trip, I had asked our friends if they’d mind being yoga guinea pigs, and several people wrote back and said yes, they’d love to, and in fact if I hadn’t asked they would have made me teach them some yoga! So on Sunday morning, we gathered up mats (and beach towels for the mat-less) and tromped down to the pond, where we had a nice flat grassy patch to practice on. It was warm out and not too buggy. With five students, it would have been too cramped to practice in the house, and the view over the pond was really nice.

My friends have varied levels of yoga experience. One person has practiced quite a bit of yoga; two had done at least some yoga before but not recently or only with a DVD. And the two easygoing guys had never done any yoga. I was really excited because this group simulated a normal beginners class really well in terms of experience level, making it a really good teaching practice opportunity for me. J tells us that, with a beginners class, you need to teach to the middle. You can’t spend all your time working with the more advanced students, because the new students will be lost, but you also can’t spend all your time helping the newbies, because everyone else will get bored. The answer is to teach to the middle. The more advanced students will be fine and will modify as needed to go deeper; the new students can keep up better when you teach to the middle, and you can help them when you get a minute. So that’s what I tried to do.

I taught the hangover sequence I posted last week. With that sequence I was trying to choose poses that would help hangover symptoms but would also be poses that anyone new to yoga could do without too much trouble. I think the sequence worked really well (the only thing I had to change was legs-up-the-wall, which, having no walls, we couldn’t do, but we did bridge instead and it was fine). It was challenging but not too challenging; everyone caught on to what was expected in a pose pretty quickly. Mostly I just talked through the poses and didn’t demonstrate unless it was something easy to do (like tree pose – I was standing there anyway, might as well demonstrate the foot position while I talked). I also demonstrated leg positions for the seated twists, since I haven’t yet figured out the best way to describe those just with words. But overall I talked. I like to think that I described the poses reasonably well, but I think it also helped that there was one more experienced yogini in the class that people could glance over to as an example. There were a lot of things that I thought of afterward that I would have liked to have said or talked about, but on the whole I think I covered the bases pretty well.

It was interesting to watch my friends and see them as students and try to respond to what they needed. One guy hadn’t done yoga before and wasn’t very flexible, but he got the idea just fine and I never once had to adjust him in a posture. He did great, and he says he’s going to try some yoga at home now. It was actually a bit harder working with the two girls who had done just a little yoga before, which I didn’t expect, but which makes sense when you think about it. I was teaching classical hatha style, making them hold the poses for a while, which some people found really challenging. J tells us that, when teaching, we should get them into the pose, shut up and let them have an experience, and then get them out of the pose; mostly I tried to do that, although when people were holding for a while and starting to wobble, I’d say “Two more breaths here” just to give them hope (that always helps me). A few times I’d explain something and someone would ask a question, which I thought was super-helpful: if you ask, then I can give you an answer that will help you in the pose, and if you ask, then I know what I need to do to explain it better next time.

Overall the whole experience was really, really fun, and received rave reviews from my “students”. Although there was some fly swatting going on, and some loud neighbors calling their kids during sivasana, everybody loved the peacefulness of being outside looking out over the pond. And everyone seemed to feel happy and more energetic afterward. It was a really, really great experience! My only sadness was missing out on practicing yoga myself, but getting to share in this awesome group practice more than made up for it.

Pond House Yoga 1(Photos by F, who did not participate in the class.)

 

Veg-Adventures: No Hot Dogs for Me May 24, 2011

Filed under: reflections,yoga lifestyle — R. H. Ward @ 1:02 pm
Tags:

I survived my first visit as a vegetarian to a hot dog joint. I was in Arizona for a wedding, and one of the wedding events was a trip to a Mexican hot dog place because the groom was dying for a “Sonora Dog”. (In retrospect, my whole AZ trip would have been less problematic and possibly more fun if I hadn’t converted to a meatless diet a few weeks earlier, but c’est la vie.)

This hot dog event actually wasn’t too bad for me – I’m a hot dog purist, so the Sonora Dog, covered with cheese and lord knows what all, didn’t really entice me. What was hard was not being able to participate in what the rest of my group was doing, the group experience of eating this particular food. I got two cheese quesadillas and heaped salsa on them. I found out later from the bride that I could have requested other filling inserts, like avocado and onions, but as it was, I ate what I ate and it was fine. I did get to drink horchata, which is one of my absolute favorite beverages, so that was great. Overall I focused on enjoying how happy my friends and family were to be eating this crazy food, because it makes me happy when the people I care about are happy.

The overall experience reminded me that there are just going to be times when, because of my choice not to eat meat, I’ll feel left out. That’s inevitable, but it’s also okay. Everybody feels left out sometimes. I made this choice for a reason, and a little discomfort doesn’t change that. I can appreciate my friends’ fun without resentment and without guilting them about it. And on future occasions, I can cook good food without meat and have friends over, or when it’s my turn to pick I can suggest vegetarian restaurants where we can all enjoy the meal.

 

Teacher Training Weekend: Friday Night Anatomy Class May 20, 2011

Filed under: reflections,teacher training,yoga — R. H. Ward @ 10:58 pm
Tags: , ,

Tonight was our May teacher training Friday night class, and I’m too excited to go to bed. Tonight we had an anatomy lesson with a special guest teacher, Jeanne, who is both a yoga teacher and a physical therapist with 20+ years of experience. She gave a talk about the anatomy of the spine and how it applies to yoga. Some of you might be thinking, “Anatomy lesson? On a Friday night?!”, but this may be the best thing that has happened during teacher training yet.

First, some background. My dad is in his 50s. He did hard physical labor all his life, and it took a toll on his body. He’s had knee problems, foot problems, and back problems, most recently resulting in two spinal surgeries in the past year, with another one possible on the horizon. He’s a bigger dude and thinks his weight might not be helping the problem, so since his last surgery he’s been trying hard to get in shape. He goes to the gym every day, does some aqua aerobics classes, swims some laps, puts in time on the stationary bike. This in spite of severe daily pain. I admire his dedication so much and I’m so proud of him.

Last month, Dad offered to be my beginner guinea pig so I could practice teaching, and asked me when I was going to come up and do yoga with him, but I put him off. I was too nervous – I didn’t want to hurt him by accident. My dad’s health is so close to my heart, I couldn’t stand it if I made his pain worse. My aunt and cousin, who are also beginners at yoga and who have a few health problems between them, have also been asking when I’m going to come teach them. Plus, at the middle school where my mother teaches, apparently the entire faculty want me to teach them a class too. The whole thought was just overwhelming.

Tonight at training, we started the evening by doing our group share. Most of us talked about the experience of doing the posture write-ups this month and what we learned, but one woman mentioned that she’d been really nervous about teaching beginner yoga classes, so she experimented on her mom and her husband, and learned a lot. Another classmate chimed in that she’d been teaching her husband too, and J told us that this is our gold, finding family and friends that we can practice teaching on. My first thought was, but how do I work with my dad when I’m afraid I’m going to break him?

And then Jeanne started her lecture. We learned about how the spine is constructed, how each spinal disc sits like a little jelly doughnut in the vertebrae. When you put pressure on the disc wall, it pooges out a little, and presses on the nerves coming out of the spine; depending on where in the spine the pressure is, this can cause pain in the arms or legs, because the nerves going to the extremities all originate in the spine. When you put more pressure on the disc wall, it cracks and the jelly oozes out, which really impinges on the nerves. And I’m having these revelations: this is what is going on in my father’s back! We talked about each section of the spine and the common problems that occur there, and what poses can be used to counter those problems. I’m taking notes like a madwoman and starting a list in the back of my notebook of poses that might work for my dad and poses that we should avoid doing. After class, I approached Jeanne, explained my situation and asked what she might recommend, and we had a good conversation and she gave me some ideas.

After class I felt so incredibly inspired and jazzed up that I tried to call my dad from the car on the way home, but I couldn’t get the speakerphone to work, so I drove home and then called from the parking lot. I had to tell him how excited I was. Now I can work with him without having to worry about hurting him. I’ll still be mindful, of course, and watch him carefully, and I want to see what exercises his physical therapist gave him so I don’t contradict anything, but now I know what to avoid (specifically: lengthy forward bends). I have a short list of poses that shouldn’t hurt his back and might possibly help a little, and when I see what his capacity is, we can go from there.

Having a little bit of confidence that I can try to help my dad gives me some confidence that I can try to work with other beginning students, too. (Apparently that was the key – kind of a weird key, but I’ll take it.) And just the whole night tonight! Jeanne is doing work that I’m really passionate about. She teaches yoga at a retirement center. That is exactly what I want to do. I really want to work with older people, help keep them healthy and flexible. It’s been a dream of mine for a long time now, but the thought of it is a little overwhelming because, well, older people are more fragile and have more health concerns to worry about. There’s so much more I need to learn before I can do it effectively and safely and helpfully. This lesson tonight is only the tip of the iceberg of all I need to know to do any part of what Jeanne does, but I have a little faith now that I have the capacity to understand this work and the enthusiasm to make it happen.

And I may never get to sleep tonight but it’s totally worth it.

 

Veg-adventures: can my food touch your food? May 19, 2011

Filed under: reflections,yoga lifestyle — R. H. Ward @ 2:10 pm
Tags:

Last week F and I had a good conversation that clarified things for both of us about my meal choices. The inspiration was a pizza restaurant; the question, could I split a pizza with F if there were meat on his half. My automatic response was that I’d really prefer not to, so we got two separate pizzas and spent the meal talking it over. F thought that it’s a little extreme when vegetarians freak out over meat touching their food; your meal didn’t contribute to an animal’s death just by being near some meat. I explained that, for me, it’s not just about causing the animal’s death, it’s that I don’t want to take any part of that death into my body, so if prosciutto grease got on my side of the pizza, that would bother me. It was interesting to talk over the distinction between “I don’t want my choices to cause another creature’s suffering and death” and “I don’t want to consume any product created by a death”. F understands where I’m coming from a little better now and my choices make more sense to him, and I feel like I’ve clarified my views a little for myself.

We also talked about vegetarian behavior (for lack of a better word). F’s opinions had been formed after an experience he’d had at an Ethiopian restaurant with a group of friends. The server had placed several foods in the center of the table all on a big piece of bread for everyone to share, because that’s what they do at Ethiopian restaurants. It happened that some of the meat was touching some of the veggies, and two of his vegetarian friends got angry and stormed out of the restaurant. That’s a pretty extreme reaction, which explains why F had thought vegetarians were unreasonable on this topic – he had seen vegetarians acting in a pretty unreasonable way. I told him that in that situation I’d just take my scoop of cheese and chunk of bread from the side that wasn’t touching the meat, and moreover, I’d do so without saying anything about it. The different foods weren’t prepared together, so the whole meal isn’t contaminated just by the presence of the meat on the table, and I don’t see a reason to make a big deal of it (unless I specifically asked for separate dishes, or everything was all mixed up together).

Most of us know a “vegetarian saint” type of person: the guy who can’t get through a meal without mentioning his preferences 18 times, or the girl who acts all holier-than-thou about how your dinner killed a cow. Those people are really into being vegetarian, and that’s fine, but I just don’t see a need for all that. My diet choice is for myself; if my friends ask about it, I’m happy to share, but I go out for dinner with my friends to enjoy their company and have fun, not to proselytize. If you’re going to eat out in restaurants and share food with others, you have to kind of go with the flow, and that goes double for ethnic restaurants, where you’re dealing with someone else’s culture. I have the right to order and receive food I can eat, but I don’t need to talk about it all night or go overboard with expressing my needs.

 

Vegetarianism: Further Restaurant Adventures May 15, 2011

Filed under: reflections,yoga lifestyle — R. H. Ward @ 1:31 pm
Tags: ,

I can now confirm officially that Quiznos wins over Subway. Quiznos’ veggie sub includes sauteed mushrooms and guacamole. They also have a veggie wrap. Now I know which sandwich shop works better for me!

F and I went to a fancy Mexican restaurant last Saturday, where I had my first “this ought to be vegetarian but isn’t” mishap. We ordered the elote appetizer: a corn and cheese dish that was amazing. After we finished, F asked the waitress about the ingredients, and it turned out that the corn was cooked in chicken stock. This wasn’t indicated on the menu, so there’s no way I could have known. I’m not going to guilt myself about this.

This made me think about how much I can control what I eat at a restaurant. At home, I know exactly what goes into my meal and how the food is prepared, but not at a restaurant. If I want to eat out sometimes (and I do), all I can do is to do my best not to eat meat. Sometimes accidents will happen, like at this Mexican restaurant. I don’t know what goes on in the kitchen – maybe my portobello sandwich is cooked on the same grill with F’s hamburger, or right in the same oil. If so, there’s nothing I can do about that. I try to choose restaurants that cook in healthy ways,and I order meat-free food at those restaurants, but I can’t micromanage and control every aspect of the cooking process. I can ony do what I can, and then let go of the results.

This incident also made me think of a friend of mine who’s been vegetarian since childhood and has never eaten meat. Once we went to a Mexican place together and she accidentally ate something that had been cooked in chicken stock, and it made her sick because her body just didn’t know how to process it. I’m nowhere near that point, but I may just email the restaurant to suggest that they add more information to their menu. No one wants to go out for a nice dinner and get sick afterward. This is also a reminder that I need to be careful at Mexican restaurants; my sister-in-law, who works in the food industry, says that most Mexican places cook their rice in chicken stock. Now that I know, I can be more careful in the future.