INFOGRAPHIC: Yoga for Writers | Electric Literature

Stave off those writer blues with these rejuvenating yoga poses. (My favorite is “Form Rejection Pose.”)

INFOGRAPHIC: Yoga for Writers | Electric Literature.

Yoga

Ever get that icky feeling when you and a group of other white people who can afford to spend $16 on a yoga class chant “ohm shanti shanti shanti?”

Me too.

I’m fleshing out the skeleton of an essay chronicling my complex relationship with yoga, and, peripherally, with non-western healing in general.

Topics include Orientalism, embodiment, social business models, capitalism. The usual.

Sleep

Sorry for the hiatus on funny, prescient posts y’all. I’ve been spending a lot of time asleep and gazing at my cat’s fuzzy orange underside. The full moon was nice, if too brief.

I’m using adjectives like “nice”; I’m obviously tired.

I’m jealous of folks who have boundless energy. Just bottle some and bring it to me.

V/GF

So I’m trying to eliminate gluten from my already restrictive diet. I’ve been feeling really sluggish and heavy, and I know that my occasional binge-eating of whatever day-old bread Chett brings home from WFM is not helping matters.

But I am now officially the obnoxious, allergen-ridden person that I have always rolled my eyes at. Don’t take yourself too seriously, folks. You’ll look like a fool sooner or later.

So now my meals consist of an avocado, a can of beans, some berries, and corn chips. I feel like I’m back in college!

Nebraska

Nebraska gets a lot of shit. It is pretty weird. Everyone has guns and eats a lot of feedlot beef. Not to mention the incredible volume of corn. Oh my lord the corn. (Nebraska’s college football team mascot is literally a white guy in a flannel shirt and cowboy hat: a Cornhusker).

Omaha is pretty cute as far as Anytown, U.S.A. cities go. At least the part where the strip malls end and the old houses begin.  Plus Malcolm X was born here (and the KKK subsequently burned his house down. Cool.).

I start to get a little freaked out when every man that Chett and I interact with completely ignores me and only speaks to him (despite his nose ring). Plus the fact that literally every one of my cousins has gotten married/knocked up/a nice house in the suburbs in the last year. Good for them, but jeepers give me a break.

My family is also obsessed with World War II. Still. As if the lauded Allied Powers didn’t slaughter millions of colonized/brown people whenever they got the chance. Sometimes I don’t know how to have conversations with people.

I guess I’m missing my friends who know about things like cultural imperialism and heteronormativity. Can you tell that I miss the liberal arts writing center?

Chett and I discovered a kick-ass little natural foods store where, instead of just throwing near-expired product in the garbage (*cough*wholefoods*cough*), they sell items at discounted prices. Got some green juices for $3, plus some hella cheap kombucha. We’re both feeling a little on the sickly side, so probiotics are key.