From the monthly archives: November 2011
Autumn Leaves

Outside my San Fernando Valley window.

 

I love living in L.A. but miss the seasonal metamorphis. Each year seems to roll into the other without imprinting any discernable sense-memory. I can recall the winter of ’90 but not the summer of ’96, or much since. Recounting a decade is like sifting through snapshots of hairstyle changes and evolving musical tastes — without your sinuses contracting with the dropping temperatures, or the mustiness of fallen leaves to infuse the memory, it’s as if it were all a dream.

On my street today, amongst the unchanging Magnolias and the evergreens, there were a few precious oaks, their colors showstopping. My senses were livened, but at the same time, I wanted to be transported back east from whence I came, and if only for a couple days, smell the raked wet-leaf piles, feel the dread of the impending winter for which there is no escape, and sense the excitement of the looming holidays. That scene at the end of the movie “Big,” where Tom Hank’s character Josh walks home down that perfect suburban New Jersey street, is the autumn of my childhood.

L.A. has it’s charms, to be sure — perpetual sun, no scraping ice off your windshield, surfing on Thanksgiving — but the only way you know that Santa Claus is coming to town, is if you go to the mall.

Pam Alster, former stand-up comedienne, Lifetime TV writer & suburban mom brings a decade of living on the dark side to light in her forthcoming debut novel Robin’s Blue. www.pamalster.com

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter
Tagged with:
 

 

Trite as it sounds, letting go has its daily benefits.

Today in yoga class, during Savasana, also known as corpse pose, the final asana of practice, I had this sudden urge to cough. It was one of those deep lung spasms that could have easily resulted in uncontrollable hacking, all this in the middle of a collective meditation. I let out this one cough, hoping it would suffice and I realized, whatever was moving around in my bronchial tubes wanted out and there’d be no avoiding it. If necessary, I’d get up and leave the room. Having made this decision, I relaxed and something miraculous happened, the blockage cleared and I was able to breath evenly.

It’s why we “practice” yoga. It’s why we need to be reminded that we are also practicing life. Every day we are presented with moments like this where releasing tension and breathing has it’s place. In traffic, on hold with customer service, every personal interaction. Each moment that we surrender our control, we open the pathway to a healthier existence.

Yay, yoga. Namaste.

Pam Alster, former stand-up comedienne, Lifetime TV writer & suburban mom brings a decade of living on the dark side to light in her forthcoming debut novel Robin’s Blue. www.pamalster.com

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter
Tagged with: