Ever tempted to get inside your yoga teacher's mind?
North American author and yoga teacher, Matilda, transparently invites us into her realm of reality vs rendezvous. 'Slim pickins' is defined as a small amount left after others have taken a share... and that describes dating in a mountain ski village perfectly; a small amount of men after others have taken a share. Boooo...
The more she mindfully meanders the dating scene in search of true love, the more unique her tastes have become. She amusingly depicts each alluring tale. Yes, ladies and gentlemen... the guy that ends up sticking by her side will be an exceptionally rare breed of human.
Liberated by yoga, slinky Matilda excitingly views the world as an open door. Around each corner a new irresistible moment waits to be discovered. She lives in the moment and appreciates the journey. Becoming her true self kinda made her awkward as hell, kind as can be, and fabulously bitchy. ;)
She takes on the world with not her heart on her sleeve, but her soul. It is comforting to hear that regardless of stature or physique, strength or spirit, people struggle just the same... both with others, and with ourselves.
|Product dimensions:||6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.52(d)|
|Age Range:||1 - 17 Years|
Read an Excerpt
Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe
Dating and Sexcapades of a Yogi
By Matilda A. Juliette
AuthorHouseCopyright © 2014 Matilda A. Juliette
All rights reserved.
I believe that change begins within, that as we alter ourselves we also alter the world.
—Meta Chaya Hirschl
My current status is "wandering," and I am frowning on Valentine's Day.
I quit my thankless job as a nanny—with blood boiling. I couldn't believe the nerve of that woman! It took every ounce of restraint and logical thinking to not throw my phone the moment she hung up on me.
I provide excellent care for her children. I love them! I give the kids support and advice within the realm of how their parents want the situation handled. I dedicate my heart and soul to aiding Katie—powerhouse, multiple business owner, wife, and mother to four—run a home smoothly.
I put up with her husband, Matt, while he recovered from his fourth knee surgery. He feels inadequate because he isn't the breadwinner. Thus, his way of giving back to his family is by following the housekeeper and me around the house, looking over our shoulders. About once every hour, he mentions passively all of the things he would do differently.
"Um, Matilda, the stains only come off of our ridiculously expensive china if you alternate clockwise and counterclockwise circles each time you dry them." Katie had explained months before during my interview that I was to double-check any orders and requests from Matt with her first because she was better at time management. "Matilda!" he yelled down the stairs. I was half way done changing the sheets on the kid's beds. His crutches clicked on the tile entry above me. "Grab me another case of Budweiser after you go to the grocery but before you pick up the kids from school."
"Matilda! I thought we already discussed this—do we need to sit down for another discussion? There is a tan sock in with the white laundry!"
No matter how much above and beyond I went by taking on all of the guy chores without being asked, my work went unappreciated. You wouldn't even believe the most absurd thing Katie's husband made me do: he had me manually remove the hair, dust, and dander from his children and dog out of a vacuum bag so that the bag could be reused. I am absolutely all about using it up, wearing it out, making it do, or doing without, but there is a line somewhere. "Yeah," he said in a dumb voice with wide eyes as if he were shocked by what he was about to say. "These bags cost like seven dollars apiece, so we reuse them!" Ironically, they didn't reuse the vacuum bags when they were the only ones around to manually empty them, and when the housekeeper and I both took a sick day all clothing was laundered together, regardless of color.
Katie was no better. She wouldn't even acknowledge my presence unless I had done something wrong—and nothing is ever right. Despite the full hour drive between the preschool and elementary school, she scolded me for showing up either too late or too early. Katie and Matt were never pleased, just like Goldilocks. And this is Colorado, which involved winter mountain driving with changing conditions that I can't help.
I wished I were the goddess of interstate closures. I'd wave my little wand, and—kazaam—accident cleared! Poof—ice melted! You are welcome, fellow white-knuckled drivers! I winked to myself in my mind and then pondered how weird it was to wink at yourself in your mind.
I did request to sit down and talk with both parents a week ago about a raise. "I have been here long enough that, while I know there are always ways to continue improving, I now understand your schedule, your household dynamic, and my responsibilities in this family's dynamic. I benefit your home very much, often going above and beyond."
What I wished I could have said was this: "I'm your nanny—why are you having me do your laundry, mop, and clean windows, just to gripe and moan about the way I do it? I shoveled your driveway, took dead mice out of traps, picked up dog poop, and did all the other man responsibilities while Matt was recovering for months and months."
I continued, "I tutor the kids in Spanish and math. Both of you at times have admitted that Matt is hypercritical, and sometimes I just feel like this job can be a little thankless."
"I've actually been told that before." Katie smiled.
WTF? Now she smiles?
"My staff has called this to my attention, and what I tell them is that no news is good news." She tossed her hands up in the air nonchalantly and shrugged as if she couldn't help her rudeness. "Culturally, Chinese people just don't interact that way," she continued. "Instead of me giving you job satisfaction, you should just know you are doing a good job based on how the kids respond to you."
Are you insane? I thought to myself. The last nanny brought them candy every day. These kids are not allowed to eat artificial colors or flavors. Anyone can get a kid to like her. What is impressive is getting the kids to love and trust her within the boundaries the parents set.
"I don't want you guys to change the way that you are in your own home," I said. "I was just hoping that because I have been with your family longer than any previous nanny, know ways to help before being asked, and go above and beyond to get everything accomplished—and you guys know you aren't skilled at expressing gratitude—maybe I could receive a little more money."
So many times, Matt and Katie had mentioned that past nannies and housekeepers had taken advantage of them—watching TV on the clock, stealing, or even being on drugs around their kids. I bet they have a nanny cam.
Employers don't gain employee loyalty by second-guessing every task performed by the people they hire to be part of their families. Maria, their housekeeper, had been with them for twelve years. She'd raised all four of the kids. People want to feel appreciated in their jobs! I honestly thought someone like me, who truly dedicated herself to getting stuff done the way they wanted it done, would have been worth them holding on to. If you can't verbally express gratitude, I know that money makes me feel appreciated.
"We already pay you more than nannies typically get." She was used to paying illegal immigrants from Mexico. I am a professional. She knows my credentials. I have over ten years of childcare experience; I had gone to college to be a teacher and had spent hours upon hours in schools. I was a summer camp counselor and a youth group leader. I had been trained over and over how to use teachable moments, diffuse sibling arguments, and diplomatically answer tough questions.
I took about a three-dollar-an-hour pay cut from my corporate job—my choice. No sick pay, no vacation pay, no health or dental insurance, and no 401(k) match made the pay cut even larger.
"If I don't feel appreciated somehow, this really isn't worth it for me," I explained to them matter-of-factly as we sat around their glamorously large circular table. The kids were already fast asleep after our bedtime story and the nightly recitation of "This Little Piggy Went to the Market."
Katie more or less told me that I was wrong for feeling unappreciated and that there would be no further compensation. I began the late-night, icy commute home feeling defeated.
It is never too late to become who you've always wanted to be.
I brought two organic, homemade chocolate-chip banana muffins to yoga for Dexter. He is one of the best yoga teachers; his classes are challenging and spiritual. He's really strong—so much so that he practically levitates. I pulled into the parking lot and waved to some of the ladies I had grown to love over the past seven months.
Nah, if I give Dexter these muffins, all of the yoga ladies will get all googly-eyed. Never mind. I left them in the car.
Later at work, I described how my meeting with our bosses went with the housekeeper. "Si, es cierto," Maria told me in the kitchen. She was cleaning the floors, and I began to slice veggies for dinner. "In jus' like eleven years, they only give me one raise!" Her pointer finger was in the air; the other hand dipped the mop up and down in a sudsy bucket. "They never give you raise porque hay many babysitters." She shrugged.
She was right—they see me as replaceable. No matter how hard I try, they won't be pleased. Matt will always gripe behind me, and Katie will always use her culture as an excuse to be discourteous. Her parents might have been Chinese, but she was born in America. She's just rude.
Neither Katie nor Matt had heard or acknowledged a word I'd said the night before.
A week later, she hung upon me, disappointed that I had forgotten what type of organic marinara sauce her family liked. I took a deep breath. Lady, you can't even remember to pay me on time each week, I thought. And I'm supposed to remember what pasta-sauce type was told to me months ago? What adult hangs up on people? Wonder if the nanny cam caught the rage I managed to hold back. I lowered my arm.
This supervisor situation is just as toxic as many of the other bad work experiences I've had. Since I didn't shatter my phone against her backsplash, I tapped the green button twice to dial her back.
Overflowing with attitude, she answered the phone. "I'm going into a meeting," she said.
"Nope. Just wanted to tell you I quit. Pick up your own kids, and cook your own dinner—I'm done!"
"Really?" Her voice softened. It seemed she wasn't accustomed to people standing up for themselves or not needing her ridiculous job.
"Yeah, really, Katie. It's rude to hang up on people!"
See, I come from the 'Entitled Generation.' You know, the ones that were raised in the culture where everyone gets the same color ribbon for participating. Other generations call us lazy, but they are the ones who taught us this entitlement. And, I really don't need her emotionally abusive job.
Liberated but still hyped up on adrenaline, I headed home.
Upon arriving, I immediately stressed out. This was the first time I've left a job without giving notice or having something else lined up. I have no foreseeable income, I thought. Reality set in. I pulled into the public-library parking lot, scurried up the stairs to the computers, logged in, and applied for thirteen jobs. I checked my e-mail and saw that I'd gotten a response. I responded to them and set up an immediate interview. I aced it! I networked all over. I checked my e-mail again, looked for jobs again, and checked my e-mail again. I gave myself a tension headache and went into a whirlwind of stress until sleep was all I could do. Repeat for two days.
* * *
The heated room smelled like rubber mats and sweat. The palms of my hands felt at home underneath my shoulders, spread out on my favorite sticky mat. My mind was in my own head, not preoccupied with what anyone else was doing—my own stress and emotions were enough to handle. The more my body moved through poses and stretched, the more layers of confusion and frustration began to clear away.
"From downward dog, puff and roll forward to high plank. Lower to hover Chaturanga." The instructor's voice was soft yet assertive.
I applied for jobs in both hospitality and the medical fields. Good, I have experience, I thought to myself. It'll be another job pushing papers—dollars in, dollars out.
"Inhale, shoulders back—up dog. Exhale, pull with the navel, hips rise up and back—downward dog," she continued.
I encountered peace (or maybe it encountered me) upside down in the studio that day. As I struggled to breathe evenly while holding a handstand against the wall, it occurred to me that I didn't even want them to call me back. I didn't want to pick up my phone for these potential employers. I dreaded every random number. I don't want another dumpy job with shitty bosses.
I could hear my father's voice inside my head: "You know, Matilda, graduating college during a recession means sometimes you just have to hunker down and endure unpleasant things." Says who? I thought to myself, still moving to the teacher's cues. As far as we know, this could be the only life we get, right?
I am fortunate. My parents covered my education expenses, and I've saved almost everything I've earned. I've been searching for a partner for forever, and what type of marriage would I have if my partner and I built the foundation when I was miserable with my job and life in general? Damn. Who told us that 'to get a job, stay there for forever, and then retire tired' is the right way? If I don't need the money of a steady job right now and don't have anyone to support except for myself, then am I really supposed to hunker down? I thought.
Regarding my fitness history, I had been a mediocre gymnast in high school. About once every six months in college, I watched a yoga DVD, and I usually concluded the workout by watching The Biggest Loser and eating ice cream in bed. I tried to live in Boulder after college, but that only lasted a week. However, while there, I tried out a free week of yoga and liked it fine. Then, about six months ago, while going through the long process of quitting my corporate job and kicking my ex out, I realized I was miserable.
Back then, I went home every night ready to smoke weed and eat munchies until I was blasted and fell asleep. Each morning, I had gotten high before hopping in the shower to ensure I didn't smell when I arrived at the office. I don't even have to tell you what I did on my lunch break. I was in need of something positive—something to be a part of.
Shortly after quitting yet another job and losing yet another relationship, I set out determined to find both change and a new community. On a whim, I chopped off my hair—boy short, and I bought a six-month unlimited pass to the yoga studio. I attended a variety of classes and moved through various flows. I learned from many teachers. Somewhere along the way, I found Zen. The six-month membership runs out next week.
Regarding my job history—Dios mio. As I mentioned, I graduated college during the recession with a BA in Spanish. The realization that the world is not my oyster hit after I moved to the city to begin living my adult life. It was supposed to be fabulous! Dream job, here I come! The only place that answered my college-educated with honors, bilingual, hardworking résumé was a drive-through coffee stand.
Really? I am in Colorado, I speak Spanish and Walmart didn't even respond?!? I have a college degree! What? Since then, I've had seven jobs in four years. Some places were stepping-stones.
Some places I hoped would fit me perfectly only to find myself continually disappointed. All of the experiences have formed the type of worker I've become. I dealt with what I felt were bits of fraud, and I learned lessons in ethics—secondhand, thankfully. I had a handful of negative, awful, miserable bosses. I learned some patience. Are we in a world where appreciation in a workplace is dead? ... or is it just me?
I consider myself an atheist. I was raised nondenominational-Christian in uber-conservative small town Colorado. I'd been a leader at the youth group, my high school job was folding towels and scooping ice cream at a Christian camp, and I belted worship songs proudly, hands waving in the air. I've attended Christian camps and even encouraged teens towards Christ as a volunteer leader during college.
In my evolution growing from child to adult, several people started planting seeds of doubt about the effectiveness of organized religion either by being hypocritical, or through wonderful and enlightening conversations.
Various experiences opened my mind to the possibility of seeing things from a different perspective from what my hometown offered. While traveling all over as a Spanish student, I experienced many different cultures and types of people. For example, my ex's gay Native American roommate, and a professor who stated that he felt he had lost the first thirty-three years of his life because he couldn't 'come out' to his father. There were the bicurious Mexican men helping me dress in the theater, and lesbian roommates. I've processed medical records describing open marriages and reviewed charts of mothers-to-be self-treating morning sickness with medical marijuana. My mind has been opened. I'm grateful for each experience that helped form the me I've become.
Excerpted from Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe by Matilda A. Juliette. Copyright © 2014 Matilda A. Juliette. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
I enjoyed this story tons. I really like the author's emphasis on just being ourselves and embracing ourselves and others just the way we are instead of this societal constant need for ! It was cool to see the difference and growth in the main character from the beginning to the end of the book. I was inspired to go on a yoga retreat after reading this book and found my experiences to be profound and life changing as well... and for that reason, I will always love this book and recommend it to all. especially those searching for love! We need more books like this.