In keeping with my never-ending quest to become the best version of myself possible, I have decided to become a certified Yogi. We’re talking five-minute hand stands, feet-behind-the-head, twisting pretzel-like poses, the whole nine-yards! Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating my objectives a bit. But the truth is, I am a firm believer in the power of yoga, not just in strengthening the body, but in energizing the mind and revitalizing the spirit. I have some experience with it; courtesy of the ninety-minute P90x version (man was I a Downward Dog expert after that one). But that was part of a larger strength and muscle-building program. As I’m getting older I’m realizing the importance that mobility, healing, and recovery plays in the overall wellness picture, and yoga is the best thing I can do now to achieve those objectives.
Since I still consider myself something of a beginner, I will be starting out slowly. I currently have an at-home program that I will use a couple of times a week. Depending on my progress (which I will, for better or worse, document on these pages) I may eventually work my way into a class. This is something that I plan to incorporate as a lifelong habit, so I am in no rush to advance. Besides, that would defeat the whole purpose. Yoga is about slowing down, developing patience and reducing stress. The patience piece is especially important for me, so I’ve given myself plenty of time to learn, to grow, and to even stumble. And stumble I will. My balance sucks.
But hey, Yogis aren’t made overnight, right?
Are there any current yoga masters out there? Any fledgling tree-posers like me? Please drop a line of advice or support. I get the feeling I’m gonna need it! 🙂
I first heard of Bulletproof Coffee a few years ago. I was thumbing through a Men’s Health magazine (desperately trying to find some motivation to get my tired arse in shape), when I came across an article touting the next big diet craze. I didn’t know nearly as much about nutrition then as I know now, so when I read all of the glowing testimonials about the supposed benefits of adding coconut oil and butter to your daily coffee, my one and only thought was this is a freakin’ coronary explosion waiting to happen!
Fast forward to now. I’ve undergone a major physical change, with all the requisite nutritional research and knowledge necessary to maintain it. I’ve experimented with high carb diets, high protein diets, no-carb diets, and just about everything in between. I’m currently following a ketogenic (high protein, high fat, low carb) approach, and it’s worked wonders. So when I stumbled upon the Bulletproof coffee idea a second time, I wasn’t completely adverse to it. Even though I was seeing success incorporating healthy fats into my diet, the idea of scooping out a tablespoon or two of butter per day was still a little worrisome (research into the benefits of grass-fed butter has since eased my mind), so when I decided to try the recipe out for myself, it was with a healthy dose of skepticism. At the first sign of anything the least bit out of whack with my body I was immediately prepared to toss the stuff out. I had made too many positive health gains to throw it all away on some fad, gadget diet that wasn’t going to do anything but clog up my arteries.
So I bought myself a tub of Kerrygold unsalted butter and a bottle of MCT Oil (a coconut oil extract that I hadn’t previously heard of but now can’t live without), fired up the Kuerig (Starbucks House blend was the coffee of choice) and proceeded to make my first cup. After about thirty seconds in the blender, I was certainly left with the best looking cup of coffee I’d ever seen, but looks, as we all know, can be deceiving. After taking one sip, any doubts I had almost immediately disappeared.
I had recently trained my taste buds to handle black coffee and had been drinking it that way daily, so the smooth, creamy texture of the new blend was a pleasant change. I was sold based on the taste alone. But what ultimately sealed the deal was how I felt afterward. My energy level was through the roof, but I wasn’t the least bit jittery or on edge. Most noticeable though was the mental clarity I felt. There is ample research suggesting a positive link between healthy fat consumption and brain health, but I had never experienced as immediate an impact as I had after that first cup. Best of all, the effects lasted for a good part of the day, with no crash whatsoever.
I am certainly no expert in the science behind all of this, and will never claim to be. The only thing I can provide is my own anecdotal experience. But I can say (at least based on the two months that I’ve been drinking it) that everything positive you’ve heard about Bulletproof coffee is true. Of course I would encourage everyone to do their own thorough research before running out and blending up a cup. You definitely have to take your own health history into account. I didn’t have any pre-existing metabolic issues. But if you are dealing with any type of cardiovascular condition, I would be very hesitant to try this without consulting your doctor. I would also suggest tailoring the recipe itself to your particular preference. If you go to the Bulletproof Diet website [bulletproofexec.com] , the official recipe calls for one cup of coffee, one to two tablespoons of butter, and one to two tablespoons of MCT Oil (the creator of the diet touts his own products to use but I stick with my store-bought brands). You don’t have to jump in full-bore the first time around. I certainly didn’t. You can start out on the low end of butter and MCT amounts and see how your body reacts to it. If after a week or so you are feeling good with one teaspoon of butter and one teaspoon of MCT, you can slowly adjust the amounts to the recommended levels. Just ease your way in.
The necessary precautions aside, I cannot recommend this stuff enough! As my wife will attest, that one cup of coffee (and you truly do only need one) is definitely the highlight of my day. I have more energy, more brain power, and it has helped me lose a few pounds (as part of an overall healthy eating plan of course).
As you can tell from this rather lengthy post, I can write about Bulletproof coffee all day. But don’t take my word for it. Try it for yourself. Give it a few days and see how it makes you feel. I’m confident that you’ll never look at your morning cup of Joe quite the same way again.
In a world where hyperbole rules, very few things actually live up to the hype. In my humble opinion, this stuff does.
Every writer dreams of her. Every writer covets her. Every writer flirts with her. And the really fortunate ones have spent significant time with her. She takes on a different form for each of us, yet her beauty is universally recognized. She is the muse – the infinite source of creativity trough which all magical things are possible. For many she is a myth, like the Tooth Fairy or Sasquatch. But for us true believers – the ones who toil in front of the keyboard day after day with oftentimes little more to show for it than a blinking cursor – we know she is out there, waiting until we reach our breaking point, waiting until we believe that we have no other course of action but to give up on this silly notion of writing. It’s then that she suddenly makes herself known. Sometimes it’s a whisper or a tap on the shoulder – a single idea or line of dialogue that seemingly comes out of nowhere but puts us completely back on track. Sometimes, when we’re really lucky, she shouts at us – bringing us a character or storyline or the simple confidence to know that sitting in front of that keyboard is not the colossal waste of time we imagined it to be.
I sometimes go months without a visit from her. It’s during those times of longing that I stop and wonder: “Where the hell is she? And why does she come to me only so sparingly when her impact is so powerful?” I get to the point where I think I can’t write without her. So I stop trying. I wait and I wait and I wait. I re-arrange the icons on my iPad, I take an extra trip to the Kuerig, I reply to my spam emails – anything to pass the time until she graces me with her presence once again. Before I know it, weeks pass. I turn on my computer and still see only that blinking cursor.
The ever-elusive Muse
Then I have the epiphany that I’ve had dozens of times over: “She comes only on her terms, dude! There’s nothing you can do to make her appear, no matter how much you need her! So instead of wasting away, pining after her, get your ass in a chair, turn on the computer, and WRITE! Write anything, even if it’s your name 500 times. Just write!!‘”Usually that’s all that’s all it takes to reclaim my focus. Suddenly the thoughts crystallize, the ideas come and the confidence returns. I’m a writer once again and it feels damn good.
But then something happens – I feel that familiar feeling: a slight gust of wind, a nudge on my shoulder or that tickle on my ear. And I know she’s there.
Funny thing is, she never really left.
Your thoughts on ‘The Muse’ may be completely different from mine. For you ‘she’ may be a ‘he’. For some the concept is idiotic and completely without merit. “It’s about sitting down and doing the work, not getting sprinkled with friggin’ fairy dust!”. Some are not sure either way.
I’d love to know you think. And Muse or no Muse, for God sake keep writing!
His first thought when he came upon the abandoned house was that he had stepped inside a Kinkaid painting. The surrounding grounds were a lush green, with cobblestone forts framing a wagon wheel positioned too perfectly to be anything but ornamental.
He wondered if the house was some sort of monument – a relic from a bygone era he knew nothing about. What he did know was that it was a part of someone’s history; a history that up until now had been preserved remarkably well – seemingly untouched by time and the elements.
But how long could it remain so?
Surely this wasn’t his discovery. Others had seen it; more would see it in the future. How much longer could it survive man’s inclination to explore? To disturb? To hold dominion over everything he came into contact with?
At least one more day, he declared as framed the scene in his eye lens, snapped the perfect picture, and kept moving.
Thanks to our fearless leader Madison Woods and to Piya Singh for supplying the visual inspiration!
The changing of seasons always brings a sense of rejuvenation and renewal. But depending on the season, that sense of renewal can be extremely short-lived. I’m as amped by the year’s first snowfall as anyone. But by the third one, I’m pretty much ready for spring. Then I get to spring and remember just how overrated a season it actually is. I don’t know how it is in other parts of the country, but springtime in Denver lasts about two weeks before the first wave of stifling heat begins its strangle hold on the city. I’m much more tolerant of summer than winter, but sixty straight days of ninety-degrees or more does absolutely nothing to rejuvenate me.
Fall is a completely different story. Around here, the season lasts almost two months. If it were up to me, it would last ten more. If I were to list all of the reasons why fall is my favorite time of year, this relatively short blog post would become a full-fledged essay. And you didn’t come here to read a full-fledged essay. So what I’ll do instead is list a few of the top reasons why, for me anyway, fall is such a kick-ass season:
Cloudy days (fall is the only time we seem to have them in Denver)
Candy corn (have you ever seen anyone eat it in July?)
November 8th – my wedding day (which makes fall my wife’s favorite season too)
Halloween (if there is a better holiday, I have yet to celebrate it)
Pumpkin spice lattes (drinking one in February just isn’t the same)
Autumn leaves (instantly beautifies any street or sidewalk they fall on)
‘It’s the Great Pumpkin Patch, Charlie Brown’ (I’ve seen it every year since 1979)
Late sunrises, early sunsets (for some weird reason I actually like shorter days)
And last but not least…
There is simply NO better time to write
After three months of having every reason in the world to be outside, the cool, dreary weather of fall drives me back indoors. It hones my focus, harnesses my energy, and fuels my creativity. I like to think that I’m fairly productive all year round, but I seem to be at my best between mid-September and early November. The creative well is at its fullest, and inspiration touches nearly everything around me.
As I write this, the high temperature is 57 degrees, the air has crispness to it that hasn’t been felt since April, and the sky is filled with dense, gray clouds. In other words, it’s a beautiful day.
I know people who hate the heat of summer, and I know PLENTY of people who hate the cold of winter. But I have yet to meet a single person who says: “You know something? Fall really sucks!”
So here’s to the best two months of the year. Think I’ll celebrate with some candy corn, a spiced latte, a warm blanket, and a really good book.
become a certified Yogi. We’re talking five-minute hand stands, feet-behind-the-head, twisting pretzel-like poses, the whole nine-yards! Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating my objectives a bit. But the truth is, I am a firm believer in the power of yoga, not just in strengthening the body, but in energizing the mind and revitalizing the spirit. I have some experience with it; courtesy of the ninety-minute P90x version (man was I a Downward Dog expert after that one). But that was part of a larger strength and muscle-building program. As I’m getting older I’m realizing the importance that mobility, healing, and recovery plays in the overall wellness picture, and yoga is the best thing I can do now to achieve those objectives.
JOHN HARDY BELL 