Queering the Triathlete (and Other Discomforts)

A Melancholy Zebra determined to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.


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I Hear You, and Thank You For Your Input. Now @*#& Off.

I gave my first dharma talk today, the substance of which was:

“Hello, fear. I hear you. Thank you for your input. Now please eff off.”

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The White Crayon is Boring: Justifying My Qualifications

No, really. What good is the white crayon? Generally speaking, the sheet of drawing paper is white, so if the artist needs something to be white, they use the negative space. Actually drawing with it ends up pointless. You want someone to see your drawing? Pick up a bright crayon. Use the blue. Use the red. Use the purple. Hell, use the tan. Just don’t bother with the white one.

So, perhaps you can imagine my exasperation when presented with this prompt: “In an essay, discuss… Please include any experiences, challenges, or opportunities…; how you might contribute to social or cultural diversity…; and/or how you might serve educationally underrepresented segments of society with your degree.”

… I am a skinny white girl with blue eyes and multiple liberal arts degrees. COME ON NOW.

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8 Things to Know About Mindfulness Practice

Here I present to you my list of things one might expect when beginning mindfulness practice– the obvious, the unexpected, and the downright frightening. As I’m still relatively new at this, please add in your own in the comments! (I’m talking to you, J.)
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Mindful Speech and Modern Flakes

“Yeah, of course. I’ll call you this weekend.”

You smile a little to yourself, pleased that you and Cool Person will finally get the chance to hang out and that you’ll certainly be getting out of your apartment this weekend. When your pool friends ask how your weekend went, you’ll respond, “It was great!” instead of the usual forced smile and half-shrug with “I just relaxed, watched some TV, caught a breather” when you know damn well that you’ve been taking that breather for quite some time.

So you keep your phone a little closer all week, but it refuses to buzz. You send an innocuous text on Thursday afternoon of: “Hey! So, what are you thinking for the weekend?” No buzz. Not wanting to be a pain in the ass, you wait. It isn’t until Sunday afternoon that you give up and throw some pizza bites in the oven.

They forgot.

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“My Life Sucks Worse Than Yours”

My favorite-song-of-the-month starts like this: “My God is better than yours/ And the walls in my house are so thick/ I hear nothing at all.”

I’ve noticed that trend in the world, but I’ve noticed another disturbing trend:

“My suffering is worse than yours.” 

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I Screwed Up My Retreat

How does one screw up your own retreat, you may ask? Well. You can’t.

A retreat is an act of withdrawing. Nobody says how that withdrawing is supposed to work or what it’s supposed to produce. It just is. One withdraws and sees what happens. (Or, more specifically, one meditates.)

But I did screw up: I went into my meditation retreat with expectations. (How dare I?!) And I ended up experiencing one of the top ten most shocking moments of my life to date.

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