How I met my college roommate....

From my college roommate:

Dear Cindy,

"Last weekend, I attended a highschool class reunion, where several years of classes were involved. My first real boyfriend was there and I visited with him and his wife briefly. That Monday, when I returned to work, I had an email from him."

Once upon a time..."M" was at college while we were there, a year ahead of us. The year we entered college, he had spent the summer in town, and since he was friends with the housing director, he was there in his dorm room painting, and getting ready to move back in. His fiance was a girl named "J" who was our age, coming to college to major in art.

He asked his buddy who "J"'s roomate was going to be. The guy couldn't remember the name, but only that her bio matched hers pretty well, and she was also majoring in some art-type field. "M" pressed him for more info, and the guy finally told him he really couldn't remember the name, but she was from the same home town and her name was spelled funny.

"It was me."

"M" said when he saw my name on the papers, he about had a nervous breakdown and couldn't believe that out of all the girls coming into college that year, they would select me to be his fiance's roomie. Well, he freaked out. He told me he begged them to switch me with someone else. He finally got his way,(or, I prefer to think it was blind fate...) and I was switched to be roomies with you instead.

The rest is history! I felt like it was something one might discover while on the Sally Jesse Rafael show where old beau's confess old secrets. If it wasn't for the fear of this past boyfriend feeling out of his comfort zone, I may have never received the letter stating that Cynthia I. Ascanio would be my dorm room "partner in crime."

"Certainly, it could not have been the same without our infamous blue rug dance floor, your stereo blasting popular dance music, our runs to the pizza joint, our laundry shopping cart, your grandma's excellent apple/raisin pie, and all our many diverse, mullti-cultural and least we forget interracial friends."

Quiet

Think of a quiet place. Put yourself there. Notice your surroundings, imagine the clothes you are wearing, and set the desired temperature. If you are outdoors, imagine the sky above you and the earth below. You are in-between....breathing, part of both sky and earth.

There really is no "quiet place" though -is there?

Outdoors, even in a peaceful setting, there are probably the sounds of birds or animals, insects or the wind in the trees. There may be traffic, human voices, or the distant drone of a lawnmower. We may notice these sounds, but can relegate them to the background.

Indoors, even in a library, there are sounds - machinery, air flow, water in the pipes, the whoosh of a ceiling fan or the rustle of pages in a book.

Even if you were in a soundproof room there would still be sound. The sound of your own heartbeat and the sound of your own breath might be as loud as thunder and ocean waves.

The same is true for your mind. Even when our minds are quieter, the undercurrent of our thoughts are always there. They just are. Thoughts are under the surface of every moment of our lives, even perhaps when we are sleeping.

So just take the time to imagine your quiet place, before you start yoga, in the middle of your commute, anytime during the chaos of daily life. Let sounds, and thoughts, sink underneath - or into the background of the practice. Hone your skills of stopping, breathing and turning your attention inward.