You can't witness your body being used if you're not using it.

Today during a home workout, I realized my Right side is a little behind my Left.  This hit me during one-armed curls, one arm at a time for each set.  Whether I’m working on shoulder, chest, back, etc, I like to go back to the mirror between sets and SEE the difference in pump, so it can compliment my visualization (okay, I also enjoy flexing in the mirror…).  After a few sets of each side, the right arm was smaller than the left.  This is common in people, but when I witness my own body like this, it has an impact.   It's amazing how, in the matter of minutes, I can discover a whole new dimension about my body.

"My God, I've never seen it this noticeable," I said to myself.  And it's true: I haven't.  My left arm was bigger and with more tone.  I could feel the pump and strength in it, and struggled to feel the same in my right.  Indeed, I've felt a little "something missing" in my right arm recently.  I couldn't get the picture of the 40-something-year-old man we treated at the TCM clinic last week out of my head: the one with an entire right side of much less muscle tone than the other.  it was obvious when assessing his posture, and after pressing on one side, then the other.  We called it "Qi and Blood Stagnation" (a vague diagnosis) and gave him herbs called "Meridian Passage."  Western diagnosis: possible nerve damage on one side due to spinal fusion.  Obviously, I prefer strength to be equally distributed on my limbs and torso: with a smooth flow of qi.  It simply makes life easier.

It all came together in my mind as I looked in the mirror: the scoliosis affecting the muscles in my upper back (more muscles bunched up on the Left side, and more strength there during workouts).  The long head of my right tricep was always more of a challenge to get definition when building them last year--the left responded nicely.  During an intense shoulder press with some trainers, I heard them discussing my right side looking significantly weaker than my left, since the barbell dipped to the right.   If you don't have a mirror, it's good to have a trainer or friend help you witness your body while you're working out--so you can totally do the movement and not have to objectify yourself while lifting the load. 

By working out at home on occasion (something I've only tried a few times here in Santa Cruz, but did often in Boulder) I have an opportunity to feel, relate to, and embody the physical dimension in a way that is much, much harder when I need to orchestrate a workout in a busy gym.  The bonus is requiring the integration of social savvy and spatial navigation as the body gets worked around others working theirs.  But this requires energy, and can distract from the interior depth of the "workout."   Not to mention swimming in the vastitude of self-conscious exercisers: egos desperate to improve themselves and/or compensate for feeling inadequate: strapping on muscles as shields to their own small selves.  This is most of the fintess industry in its hyper-consumerist-based-on insecurity-rap, and a trap I've bought many times.  At home, it's easier to tap my resistance training time as a time of yoga, of self-discovery, of embodiment to serve with fullness and strength.  This kind of development is a fulfillment of the Bodhisattva vow. 

Fitness beyond self-improvement.  Just like Deida'a "Spirituality Beyond Self-Improvement."  When I care for these many dimensions, my being tends to carry a free-flowing functionality.  Even amidst the challenges and impossibilities of life.  A kind of whole-being equanimity. 

More freedom at the personal = more freedom to offer, freely.

I'm writing this as a response to Michal Levin's recent blog post on the movie Ocean's 13. 

If you haven't checked out the work of Michal Levin, you gotta go to her site.  I had the opportunity to interview Michal in 2004, then do some editing work for her the following year.  She's a gem in the world of subtle energies and embodying spirituality with an impeccable ethical framework.  I keep up with her blog on my google reader account, and saw this post about Ocean's 13 tonight.  Since moving to Santa Cruz, CA in February, my social life isn't what it used to be, so I've been spending more time with film, books, and music than usual (see Michael Moore's Sicko if you haven't).  I love how Michal includes movies in her blog, but I couldn't read her post without using the opportunity to articulate my own feelings on the movie....

(If you read Michal's post first, this post will make more sense, although it will read fine on it's own.  If you haven't seen Ocean's 13 yet, there's no spoilers below- just hints to the story).

I think it's important to keep in mind that Ocean's 13 is the second sequel to "Ocean's 11," which is in turn a re-make of an old "Rat Pack" movie (Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr, etc), which itself was a classic "heist" film.  Heist films are an entire genre, which depict hero/villians that outsmart the law and/or "one-up" other criminals, beating impossible odds in order to do the job.  I think the main concern of Ocean's 13 is more about the entertainment value of seeing a crew of specialists use their skills, gile, and the "art of the con" to achieve an objective that initially seems impossible, and enjoying the hilarity of the catch-22's and juxtapositions that happen on the way (not to mention the irreplacable character acting of Don Cheatle, Bernie Mac, Al Pacino, etc). You also have the overcoming of obstacles -which which almost makes for a good story- and serving up justice (even if it's one criminal serving it to another) on behalf of an already like-able character from the previous two films.  

Gangsters or not, theives or not, it's also a reflection of life for most of us: always trying to "pull a fast one" and "get something by" everybody, as we strive to live up to what our ego and superego are projecting onto who and what we are, who we should be, and what is "the best."  It's striving to achieve that "Five Diamond Award": perfectly orchestrating our life for the fame and the riches, which (in a culture of materialist values) is collectively rewarded.  In seeming opposition to this striving is the authenticity and surrender that our inner selves call for, since understanding that calling frequently involves utter embarassment and failure according to the perspective of ego.  The process of waking up often destroys material illusions and rewards rather than chasing them- especially if our relationship to material wealth is based on falsity or overpowering others. 

From a Buddhist perspective, ego is constantly wrapped up in (if not defined by) the eight worldly concerns of praise & blame;  material gain & loss; acceptance & rejection; pleasure & pain.  All of the characters in Ocean's 13 struggle with these, especially Rueben, the old friend they're helping out, and Al Pacino's character- the guy who cheats him.  If you see it this way, the entire movie is a dance of ego's absurdities: projected right up onto the big screen in a bigger, more dramatic display.  And the collective ego's ramifications: how it impacts the world around us, feeding the mass confusion of mistaking surfaces for comprehensive being.  Only this time, it's with killer actors, great characters, fun music by David Holmes, and a crew of guys achieving the impossible-- and to top it all off, smearing a crooked casino owner who has it coming. 

Entertaining?  Yeah.  Does it have depth?  Well, if you don't see the above, you might at least have a good time.  If you do go and see it, I think it helps to know what you're getting, and know what you're NOT getting.   During short periods spent in Nevada, I've never felt the pervasiveness of samsara quite like I have there.  The movie doesn't depict the kind of pain and desolation I've felt in places like Vegas, but then again, I don't think it was it's objective. 

One cool thing to know is that the latest issue of Vanity Fair (Africa Issue edited by Bono) indicates Clooney's use of profits from Ocean's 13 for AIDS relief in Africa.  That's always a plus!

 

Inspired by overheard
conversation from a young
midwestern couple eating McDonalds
@ the Minneapolis airport. 6:30 am
November 20^th 2006

          Mc       fluids

                                Mc       fish

                                                   Mc       smell

               Mc       flesh

                                                                              Mc       sit

                                Mc       sip

                                        Mc       mouth

        Mc       share

                                                                                       Mc       large

  Mc       bite

                                             Mc            problem

                 Mc       trash

                                                                                     Mc       stare

                                      Mc       camera

                        Mc       luggage

                                                                            Mc       straw

                                        Mc            bathroom

                                            Mc       stash

        Mc            movement

                                                          Mc       time

                                  Mc       walk

                                                                                     Mc       picture

                                                Mc       follow

                                                       Mc       smile

                                                                                             Mc       hiccup

                                 Mc       stuff

                                          
                                     Mc            Nowhere

It's been challenging to move toward an online expression and representation that mirrors who and what I am; what summons me into embodied action.  Some thoughts and inspirations beg for a voice.  They incessantly return after visits to "no-thought," or silent realms felt and lived more obviously when chatter ceases in a laudatory hum. Wishing my kid brother his 22nd birthday over email, I found myself writing this:

the stream of life is offering you a swim
do you dare swim upstream?
do you dare glide downstream? 

Do I dare swim upstream and attend to crafting an honest web presence?  All I need to do is throw up a pic, describe myself and my business, and post my work, right? 

This has required a lot of reflection and time- much more than I anticipated.  This may or may not be a big deal to you, but for me-- it's brought challenges which have highlighted the need for a few "meta-skills" or what I see as basic know-how to navigate the blogosphere, webosphere, and bizosphere: such as web design, self-representation beyond self-consciousness (or highly edited versions of myself squeezed into pretentious portrayal), efficient yet evocative writing, learning digital media, and creating honest, unrestrained yet professionally-accessible content.  These are just a few. 

Do I dare glide downstream and let myself be led through listening?  This takes a different sort of daring-- the kind that can relinquish ambition to arrive at a natural destination.  I am moved toward something, and find myself somewhere.  It's like the agape to the eros.  As with many life predicaments, I feel like I'm sitting within the synergy of two forces that rub me into action.

Truthfully, I like to jump out of the stream, and find out I'm not a fish.  Then take a new plunge.

www.andyacker.blogspot.com

Focus is on music (i'm posting audioblogs of music passages regularly), creativity, musings on the edges of music, and some cool links to what I discover online! 

I also plan to host a more crazy, general blog here on Zaadz --soon-- so stay tuned...

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