<![CDATA[Kim Buck<br />Licensed Esthetician (...and "Jack-Yogi") - Blog]]>Sat, 09 Dec 2017 08:24:27 -0800Weebly<![CDATA[Oasis]]>Thu, 17 Aug 2017 21:56:47 GMThttp://kimbuckyoga.com/blog/oasisFeeling inspired to write again after a bit of a dry spell. 
Contributing to an oasis amidst my desert...:


Middle-aged crisis? Maybe...
Raising teens and ‘tweens? Probably...
Caring for an aging parent?  Perhaps...
Divorce and re-marriage...?  Yes.


Passion. 
It’s my thing. I will absolutely NOT be successful with anything (or anyone) that does not turn me on. 


Thinking turns me on. Introspection...objectivity...subjectivity...compassion...pure heart
As long as you share it with me. You win.


Caveat: I can read lies. I can tell a bullshitter. Finally, I’ve suddenly (and successfully) realized what I want:


Unpretentious. Authentic. Wholehearted...


BRILLIANCE.


Your mind is my dildo. 


You’ve got my attention...I want to keep yours...


Affection is important...alas...I am a VERY feminine woman...so snuggle. And kiss me...touch me...love me...whisper in my ear...tell me I’m pretty, but only sparingly because otherwise it feels like objectification...comment on my thoughts and ideas because those are what I’ve worked the longest and hardest to cultivate...


I don’t need intercourse...honestly. Intimacy is two minds intertwined...and some physical caresses...reassurance, if you will. And...yeah...orgasms feel good. And I’m good at them...giving them, anyway.


I want devotion...respectful. Conversation...engaging. Teaching...loving. Exposure...public recognition of togetherness. Class...bred, not born. Wit...make me laugh. Inspire me...keep me intrigued, Your mind is my greatest past-time. Forever.




Tat Sat.
Amen
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<![CDATA[Don't Call Me Bob...]]>Wed, 16 Aug 2017 15:52:29 GMThttp://kimbuckyoga.com/blog/dont-call-me-bobNicknames and such...


There was a time...seems like several kids ago...when affectionate monikers pleased me. Flattered me, even. But then. They didn’t. 


As a kid growing up it seemed like everyone’s name ended in “y” or “ie”...Amy. Carrie. Kristie. Heidi. Julie. Shelly. Pattie (Pat-te). Shelby. Kelly. Susie. Sherri. Jamie. Kimberly.


In fact...I was “Kim 4” in the third grade because there were five Kim’s in my class. 


In 7th grade, I became “Kimbuck”.


Throughout high school I remained “Kimbuck”.


No one ever called me “Kim”. And, to this day, I am still labeled. 
Perhaps I should patent it.
My yoga.
My esoteria.
My feminine.


As I matured into a world of vocation and career...(not the same, by the way...) I began to REALLY feel my name as my brand. I’m not JUST Kimmy. I’m not JUST Kim-4. But. I AM Kimbuck. No one else is...well...except for the African American bodybuilder...but I’m pretty sure I’m older...so I win.


If you Google “Kim Buck”, first comes the bodybuilder. And WHEW! She’s amazing...I would kill for her calves. But. On down the stream, you get my smirk. It’s a good one. And. Maybe. You come to my website link. Elementary at best. Simple. But it gives you the details you are looking for...


Alas. Back to nicknames.


Over the years, I’ve had many close friends...still do as a matter of fact. They get a bye.
But.
If you’ve only known me in the last decade...you have NO right to call me anything. Except...”Kim”. Or. Maybe, “Love”. 


I’ve worked really hard for my status in society (HA!). I’ve earned my name. If you wish to attach an endearment...ask me first. “Is it okay if I call you “Babe”...
again...
if you’ve known me longer...nickname away. Chances are if you’re in my speed-dial, or my graduating class...I’ve established a nickname for YOU!


LOVE!


ROCK ON!


(Cuz that’s what David Coverdale would do...) 
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<![CDATA[The Wurd]]>Thu, 02 Oct 2014 00:29:40 GMThttp://kimbuckyoga.com/blog/the-wurdFeeling a bit urged to say a little something about what I teach, why I teach it, and what inspires me to teach it the way I do. So. Here goes...

25 or so years ago I was very impulsive. And not so rational (who is at 20...?) I had lots of friends...probably even more enemies...and a few lovers.

I changed jobs every 6 months or so. I was quick witted...fast enough to pick up what was necessary to function at the task at hand, but not necessarily mature enough to understand WHY the task was important in the first place.

I went to college(s). Lots of ‘em. Had a few majors. And...I’m honestly quite talented at the ones I originally signed up for (theater, English, linguistics, biology...)...but lacked the discipline to FOCUS through any program.

In the meantime...I got lots of certifications and letters and saw a lot of blood and gore.

But. I finally discovered the maturity to attend and FINISH a degree at an accredited (and highly acclaimed University.)

At 29 I had my first child (I have three now...)

Yoga found me at 22. I started teaching at 32. So.

Life went on...

I had my kids...put a husband through rehab (3 times)...divorced...remarried...went to beauty school...

Now. 45 years old. Back to teaching yoga (and esthetics...)...

It’s about the muck. The sludge. What life is. I’m not here to soften the blow of having a mortgage, kids of varying ages in multitudes of grades, car payment, tuition loan payment, credit card payment, and medical expenses...I’m here to offer satire. A bit of humor...and realism. Because it’s my life. I’m not an escapist...I’m a “get real, life is full of shit, fuck and damn.”..kinda girl.

If my language offends you...take Bikram yoga...cuz it’s scripted...(wurd...tired of this dancing around slander bullshit...)

With me...’ya never know what you’re gonna get...’...

Love.

And ROCK ON! (Cuz THAT’S what Billy Squier would do...)]]>
<![CDATA["RRR-The Prequel"]]>Fri, 11 Oct 2013 17:14:53 GMThttp://kimbuckyoga.com/blog/rrr-the-prequelFunny how the learning never ends. Even more amusing, when for some reason, we forget that and are completely shocked when something “new but obvious” strikes us as “revolutionary”. 

Especially when it’s something about ourselves. Brought to us (after years of, supposed, bliss...) by those who “know” us the best.

In my experience, these “lessons” have always occurred during major transitions in my life. Graduations, relationships, new jobs, marriage, deaths, childbirth...and, most recently, my divorce. Always when I’m at my most vulnerable...and, probably, my most “crazy”.

Times when loved ones take it as a prime opportunity to counsel me in just how flawed I am. Now...maybe I’m being too harsh. Perhaps it’s my over-sensitivity at the time that contributes to my feelings of persecution. Or. Using my divorce experience as an example...maybe they’re telling me that it was my flaws and fallibilities that, in fact, caused the divorce. While they are doing their best to help me pull my head out of my ass...after over a decade of (apparently) wearing it as a hat...all of the “support” has virtually created a whole new perception of my Self.

Ah, yes. The bitter Truth. Brought to us by loving bystanders. Which isn’t to infer or, for Pete’s sake...PROJECT, any of my own insecurities in the form of resentment upon these Dear Ones.

*Sigh

Processing:

REVELATION. “Aha...(insert whatever it is that just came to light)...SUPER!” (Disclaimer: May not happen in this lifetime...)

REFLECTION. “Hmm. Wow. Oh. Interesting point of view.” (Disclaimer: May take even longer than Revelation...)

RECOGNITION. “Love. Truth. Understanding. Purity.” (Disclaimer: Uh...Yeah. May NEVER happen...)

Our loved ones can contribute to this process. But. I have found that it’s important to be able to distinguish (...or, weed out...) what actually constitutes “counseling” on their behalf...or what is their own mis-interpretations (read insecurities, jealousies and anger...) and un-truths. This is the difficulty. Especially being me. I believe EVERYONE. And, it’s only recently (say...the last five or so years...) that I’ve begun to realize that not EVERYONE who has an opinion of me (or my situations...) or advice (regarding my situations or behavior...) even LIKES me!

So. Let me make this a little bit more clear.

It could be that some of those I’ve considered my “loved ones” and “friends” over the years...really aren’t.

Aren’t.

AREN’T.

What.

What!?

WHAT!!???

OR!

And probably more likely.

I’m not the real issue. It’s a projection of their own unhappiness or insecurities.

Okay. So...I didn’t come up with the last one myself. I actually DO have loved ones that know how to make me feel better.

The biggest difficulties have been in my interpretation of scrutiny...particularly by people who don’t know me nearly as well as they think they do.

Being a woman with a strong personality and confidence has, often times, made me the outcast. It’s like I put myself on stage to be ridiculed. I was the loudest mom on the football field...always...cowbell in hand. Lacking sophistication (supposedly), intellect (ha!), and composure (like I said...) I inspired criticism through my audacity. The year my son is out due to an injury is the year I hear the “truth”...

On the other hand, some friends have humbly called me on my REAL shit. Like my tendencies of offering opinions and advice unsolicited. My strong “deliveries” get mistaken as “un-arguable”. So. Let me just clear this up here and now:  “Friends and loved ones, allow me to offer my deepest apologies for ever having you feel I wouldn’t hear your “side”. That is completely wrong. I am very open minded (albeit, mouthy...) and, from here on out, want to INVITE you to join me in DIALOGUE regarding all issues...even politics, parenting, religion, sexuality and gender.”

*sigh

Yoga. Strong personality + Energy = Non Zen. Yup. For this I will not apologize. Ever. Because, after all...our teachers encourage authenticity. 

My strength is not to be mistaken as intimidation. If I wanted to intimidate anyone, I’d go all Ninja-Killer on their ass (just kidding...sorta.) 

My confidence is not to be mistaken for arrogance. It is simply my willingness to be real...and sometimes that means real goofy....and...somewhat NON p.c....with the inference that swearing like a sailor does not make me a bad person...and because I’ve lived “alternative lifestyles” (...not everyone knows I’ve kissed a girl...;)...I CAN. 

Be non p.c. that is. :D




The Truth is in here. Me. Self. That’s the Recognition. 




It’s in all of us...(trite, I know...)




All we gotta do is get through the Revelation and Reflection. Good luck. 




Rock ON!




Amen.

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<![CDATA["...Life is like a box of chocolates..."]]>Mon, 16 Sep 2013 01:18:01 GMThttp://kimbuckyoga.com/blog/life-is-like-a-box-of-chocolatesFoundations

Steady as she goes. 

Stability in the truth. 

The percussion in the rock ballad.

“Just give me a beat...”

Show Choir. Taking a creative stance toward the songs we’re covering...creating a beat with nothing but our mouths. 

“Footloose”...no guitar, no drums...just the beat of a well-kept tongue clicking close to the mic...and a mallet on a cowbell.

...which, by the way sounds VERY different than the original version...peculiar is the new hip.

Break it down. 

My son plays Pop Warner football. Both sides, Offense and Defense. Full Back and Middle Linebacker...and guard. I bought the book, “Football for Dummies” and insisted that he read it. It’s not enough to know just your position. Know the game. The fundamentals. Like a chess match. Know your opponent...be calculating. It’s not all about the coach calling the plays...how ‘bout the player that knows enough to tear it up when the other team is bigger, faster and talented. THINKING on their feet. And, believe me, football is FAR more complex than I ever realized. I’m about 1/4th through the book. The game is amazing. I’ve watched the game for the last four years only because of my son. This year I have a professional camera and have been viewing the game through the lens...following the ball. A telephoto lens has changed my LIFE...in football. In the last game I shot, I learned what a kick-return was...and when it happens. Right?!!  Last week I learned what “pass-interference” is. By the end of the season, I may have my own radio show...

Foundation. The base. Fundamentals. Simple but not simplistic. 

Interestingly enough, I’ve worked so hard over-analyzing the disintegration of my marriage...and it’s as basic...as fundamental...as understanding what a kick-return is or the penalty for a pass-interference. Two teams with the same goal...but in competition for the title. Or the terrific coach whose team has size and talent but can’t get past the fear of being hit or injured. Work with what you have...and as a last resort...PUNT.

I should not use football metaphors...:-/

Music. Rock and Roll. 

I know...think of Roseanne Barr or Christina Aguilera singing the national anthem. They both know the words...*ahem*...

‘nuff said.

ROCK ON!  




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<![CDATA[Something about something...]]>Fri, 19 Apr 2013 17:06:43 GMThttp://kimbuckyoga.com/blog/something-about-somethingSpanda. Expansion and Contraction. The Universe folds in on itself and then bursts ecstatically open. Everything in creation follows this Divine pattern. 

Life itself. The bodies of our individual lives. Pulses. Moving the products of our choices and endeavors through the complex, winding, twisted “intestines” that comprise our journey. 

Likening my life right now to the digestive process is fitting. I feel deep in the “shit”.

*sigh

In the middle of a divorce (a rather amicable one, compared to others I’ve witnessed of late) that I petitioned, has me literally swimming in a stew of helplessness, anger, frustration, disappointment, grief...and insanity.

Moods swing radically from Sita-like resignation and calm understanding to Kali-esque rage...wanting to rip off heads.

Spanda. 

I mostly feel helpless. Most of the time. Which is not unlike erratic, free-radical behavior....the cancer causing kind...

*sigh

Faith is what keeps me from stepping out in front of a bus. Or a train. 

Well...that and I’m an optimist. This process is nourishment (full of vitamins, minerals and anti-oxidants) for what is yet to come. Blessings of beauty, joy and peace. I’m happy to say love never abandoned me.  It picked me up early on...just before I crashed into the rocks of despair. It will carry me through all the shit...the storm, the muck and the mud. The “indigestion” of this temporary place.

*sigh

I bow deeply to the lotus feet of those people who have helped carry me through this. Lifting me to the closest possible reaches of serenity during the times I wallowed in the mires of depression and anger. You have made me feel safe and loved. Embracing me with compassion and understanding. I am so blessed. 

The contractions of this stage in my life have been made bearable...and even interesting...by the enfolding arms of my dear friends. I am so very grateful.

LOVE!

Hari Om






















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<![CDATA[Pole-Dancing...?]]>Sat, 12 Jan 2013 18:44:11 GMThttp://kimbuckyoga.com/blog/pole-dancingI’ve been seriously considering retiring as a yoga teacher lately. I’m about the right age...

Yoga is rich, magical, fierce, nothing short of transformative...and it has saved my life innumerable times. Recently, however, despite my dedication to the process and devotion to my teachers, this whole Western take of yoga is just pissing me off. To the point of being done teaching, taking and even studying it.

About a week ago, I had a new person in my class. It was a New Years Day practice and the theme was closely related to beginning again. The 90 minute class consisted of very simple (not simplistic) fundamental poses broken down for alignment and integration detail. After class, I spoke with everyone for a minute or so...including the new girl. She was sweet (acting). Listed her accomplishments and let me know who she’d recently finished a teacher training with. I thanked her for coming and made small chit chat. I was later informed by a long-time student of mine who’d brought her to my class how “disappointed” the new girl was in not building up a sweat...and how it had been a long time since she’d been to a “Barney” class (ie, beginners class).

*sigh (exhale)

After I finished feeling defensive and hurt. I realized that maybe, just MAYBE, it wasn’t entirely her fault for being unconscious and just plain rude...(well...it is mostly her fault...I’ll give her that.) But who’s the teacher that “trained” her? Did they completely leave out one of the most important tenets of yoga schools...”Beginner’s Mind”? Since I wasn’t in her training I can’t say with certainty. Perhaps she just zoned out on that part...or maybe she hasn’t absorbed the teaching. I know it has taken me years, even decades, to understand and integrate some of the teachings into my practice. But, when I met my true teacher that was the FIRST lesson I remember. Or at least, that is the first time I recall understanding it. But. Like most teachers, I’ve been through a half-dozen or more teacher trainings and continue to take one every two years or so. To maintain Beginner’s Mind...certainly not to lose it.

Remaining a true life-long student is humbling. It has to be. A student can only continue  to learn if she surrenders to the Grace of the teachings. I have not always understood this. In fact, after my first training I was pretty arrogant (this is a common phenomenon, by the way...). Fully believed I knew it all...

*sigh (exhale)

It was about the third training (and six years in) I was finally ready to admit I didn’t know shit.

*gasp (inhale)

It was unusually freeing to realize what really makes a good teacher (not to mention STUDENT...) is being present and humble and OPEN to receive the spirit...(sounds a little “churchy” I know...). Attending trainings has become a “reality check” for me...instead of judging the material for what I already know, I am fully open and present to what the teacher brings. The teaching is MORE than the material. 

*sigh (exhale)

So. I ask myself, what has this student taught me? (Because, students have often been my greatest teachers...)

-Once again, humility. To remember that everyone has different modes and timelines of processing.
 -To not take anything personally (that’s a really hard one, for me.).
 -And, maybe this is yet another catalyst that will take me to my next level of teaching. 

They say what you find irritating about another person is showing you something about yourself. So. Was it her behavior in the way she “trash-talked” my class to one of my dearest students? Was it the fact that I’ve been doubting my own efficacy as a teacher? Could it be that she is 15 years (at least) younger than me and I’m longing for the return of my lean(er) youth...? Maybe I’m just looking for an excuse to bail on this teacher gig...

Or. *sigh (exhale)

Is it simply a reminder for me to remain ever present, open to Grace, and humble...?

I’d like to take the latter. Tape it to my mirror. Repeat it as my mantra...

Hey...I know!!

Call it:

“My New Year’s RESOLUTION!”

Amen. Rock on.

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<![CDATA[Merry Christmas...From the Schneider's ]]>Tue, 25 Dec 2012 00:38:17 GMThttp://kimbuckyoga.com/blog/merry-christmasfrom-the-schneiders
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<![CDATA[Feeling Vulnerable]]>Mon, 17 Dec 2012 03:32:56 GMThttp://kimbuckyoga.com/blog/feeling-vulnerableMy journey thus far has been full of significant “smack-downs”. And, it kinda made me defensive and reactive. *sigh

Lucky for me I have yoga. And my family. And a circle of amazing friends...CONSCIOUS friends...

I’ve always put myself right out there for feedback...then and now. I can take it. Grew up with it (lot’s of it...) Willing to accept criticism and analysis. 

Teacher evaluations.  It’s student survey time at the University where I teach. I’m a bit nervous. I’m ALWAYS jittery when my personality and style are on the chopping block. But, today I was in a workshop with another professor from the same University (a PhD...no less...) and HE said he regularly experiences butchering in the student surveys because he “offends” people with his “Crazy Wisdom Teaching”...(out of context, but mostly accurate...)

Which is pretty much my method.

“You are FLIPPIN’ AWESOME!...Let the light in your heart SHINE!” ...does a good job of scaring aphasic Freshmen (and sometimes Seniors) out of my class. 

Interspersed throughout my “sermons” is a fair amount of juicy expletives and inappropriate references to body parts...(“Your sacrum. You know. The flat part of your spine right above your butt crack...”)

If said students are offended by curse words...they will usually drop after my first comment involving “Ass Hat”. 

How do I swing “Love” and “Ass Hat” in the same theme? 

Oh...let me count the ways...

But...I know enough about anatomy and alignment to carry a pretty rockin‘ asana class. As long as I stop proselytizing long enough to get to the physical :D

My intention will always be...give something to laugh about (or at)...provide an opportunity to delve deeper into the mundane...and excuse everyone (and yourself...)  from being profanely human.

LOVE! And Happy Holidays! 

ROCK ON!!! 







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<![CDATA[Consciousness]]>Fri, 23 Nov 2012 02:42:28 GMThttp://kimbuckyoga.com/blog/consciousnessSuspend. Respect. Listen. Speak. These are the four principles of dialogue. For use anytime...and best used ALL of the time.

Extremely difficult for someone like me. The Chronic Reactor. Not unlike the nuclear sort...with varying degrees of fallout and meltdowns. Myself and/or those lucky enough to be around during an episode.

Over the last few months I’ve been paying close attention not only to my reaction behaviors but also to the behaviors of others. And, I’m glad to report that...(drum roll)...I’m NOT the only “flagrant” reactor. 

*smile

‘Cuz, I guess there’s nothing like company.

Usually, “our” type [of behavior] happens in this order (but not necessarily in rapid succession): Speak (React). Listen. Respect. Suspend. And it may be DAYS or even years between.

So. I’ve made a lot (train-loads) of apologies over my life. Recent (some less so than others due to my slow realization) ones made for things (some little, some big) done decades ago. Not all have been done in person because some people I’ve lost touch with or ties were severed for whatever circumstance. So. To those I’ve hurt or offended, I offer my sorry to the Universe...and I have faith that it’s blessing force will get to them. Eventually. 

Forgiveness is all in my head (and heart), after all. My forgiveness toward others and, most often, others’ forgiveness toward me. Writing serves as my catalyst for contrition. I release emotionally and physically through the act of writing. Moving my fingers rapidly on the keyboard or (a much slower form) gliding a pen across paper. Whatever blossoms may or may not be seen by another set of eyes (and, most of the time, is inconsequential...) but the piece of mind that I get is weighty BEYOND words. Spoken or written.

Matrika. Powerful beyond measure. The radical effect of the WORD. The mother of connecting with the One and each other. Some words are so powerful that simply THINKING them has the power to impart energetic transformation. Be careful what you say and think...keep it True, Kind, Necessary and Life Affirming. Steer away from negatives when you can. 

Never has there been a more difficult practice than “watching my words”. And, even as I observe, them I sometimes don’t change the outcome.

:/ But, I’m getting better. Slowly. It’s a practice for a lifetime...or twenty.

I look forward to opportunities to stop...sometimes mid-thought...and retrace it BACK to the beginning. Changing the entire composition, sometimes. Whoa.

Radical. Radical. RADICAL work. Transforming and relinquishing conditioned behaviors.  Good stuff.

Amen.




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