Spring has arrived, and thankfully today's weather feels like the temperature will soon catch up to the season. I'll admit that last Monday's "springflakes" made me want to climb back into bed and hide. Here's hoping that you, too, are being warmed out of hibernation.

Embedded into our cultural language is the expression "Spring Cleaning." This is the time to go through the closets, packing away winter clothing and possibly giving away the things that no longer suit you. It's an excellent time to do some internal cleansing (under the guidance of your health care provider!), perhaps giving up coffee, and/or sugar, alcohol, and possibly even solid food for a few days. This can help your body eliminate stored toxins, give your digestive system a chance to rest, and can even help reset your mood back to something closer to normal. You can even "fast" from things like the news, giving up compulsively listening to NPR, and/or reading gossip magazines. And you can go through your "belief closets," releasing ideas and opinions that no longer suit you. Getting rid of these isn't necessarily as easy as it may sound.

 Another way to 'cleanse' this spring is through the practice of meditation, which has been likened to "fasting the consciousness." When you deliberately refrain from giving every day thoughts to consciousness, it is forced to 'consume' thoughts/experiences that have been supressed, clearing those out of your psyche and soma. This may help with erradicating the beliefs that prevent you from moving forward.

 By getting rid of what is no longer necessary or beneficial, you create space for new growth and possibility. This is the exciting and creative aspect of springtime. Here you get to dream and visualize what you would like to manifest in your life. Tending to the garden of your life, ask yourself what you would like to grow in the space you have created, and then plant those seeds! This is the time to throw off the layers of excuses you may have buried yourself under during the winter and create a plan of action. Connect with the pulse of vitality that animates this time of year. Spring into Action!

St. Valentine's Day!

Here is an article I wrote 17 years ago about St. Valentine's Day. It appreared in The Main Street, a short-lived publication that my friend, Nathan Lerner was involved with. This was written back when going to a library was the primary way to research a subject.  To this day, I believe it is the only thing I've written that has been published in print.

As a moderately bitter woman lacking a sweetheart to celebrate with, I chose to resent the 'holiday' rather than let myself feel lonely or sad. I began researching the evolution of St. Valentine's Day believing that it had been invented by chocolatiers, the greeting card industry and purveyors of diamonds. What I discovered was so much more interesting, compelling, and even horrifying!

I hope you enjoy reading the original, unedited version! Typing this into my computer flashed me back to that time in my life. You may get a kick out of the bio-line at the end of the article; I sure did!

Look at the calendar. It’s Valentine’s Day.

     I find myself drawn into greeting card stores only to leave moments later, empty-handed and somewhat depressed. Oh, sure, I’ve felt almost everything expressed on those cards – cute and clever; sarcastic and caustic; sexy, guileless, lustful, vengeful, and just plain smitten. An arrow-toting, winged cherub evokes no emotion in me at all, and all the expense so lavishly devoted to promoting this amorous festival only indicates how profitable it must be. Another “Hallmark Holiday” helps us mark our passage through time.

In search of deeper meaning beyond the frivolity of prefab sentiment calculatingly scrolled across lacy, heart-shaped cards, and long-stemmed red roses that mysteriously double in price the second week of February, I set out to learn about the alleged Saint Valentine. Just who is this chaste and priestly man who protects over such an overtly sexual celebration?

It turns out there may have been as  many as five Saints Valentine, with history and folklore confusing and substituting priests for bishops, martyrs for mere mortals. The Valentine who seems most closely linked with the tradition of love notes was a Roman priest during the reign of pagan Emperor Claudius the Goth, circa 269 A.D.

This Emperor allegedly grew wary of having his young soldiers complain about war. It seems they were reluctant to leave their wives and families to fight the ever-present battles. So, Claudius did the sensible thing. Putting his imperial authority to use for the good of the people, he banned marriages and nullified engagements.

Enter Valentine. Ever the man of God, working to convert the Pagans to Christianity and extolling the virtues of marriage, he went underground, so to speak, and performed marriage ceremonies against the Emperor’s guidance.

For this, our romantic innocent was arrested, beaten with clubs, stoned, and finally beheaded on, you guessed it, February 14. Now there’s reason for celebration.

Two additional bits of tradition connected to our Patron Saint endear him further to our hearts. While imprisoned, he is said to have cured the jailor’s daughter of blindness, which allegedly infuriated Claudius, perhaps speeding up his execution date. And finally, on the eve of his decapitation, the young priest is said to have sent a love note, however chaste and pure, to the jailor’s daughter. This note he signed, “From your Valentine.” Romance, intrigue, unrequited love, violence: if it were a move, none of us would believe it.

It’s difficult to associate the notion of ‘arrested, beaten with clubs, stoned and finally beheaded’ with our modern tradition of velvet-covered, heart-shaped boxes of chocolates and candle-lit dinners for two. So you may wonder how the sweetheart-love thing evolved out of this tragedy.

It seems the Pagans had a festival on February 15 honoring the god Lupercus for protecting the crops and the town from wolves. As part of this tradition, fertility and the continuity of life were overtly commemorated, while sexuality was part of the joyous subtext. The festivities of Lupercalia included girls’ names being drawn from a hat by boys looking for a sweetheart for the year to come. Sort of the human pairing that imitates turtle doves and love-birds said to mate this week of the year.

           The Christians sought to distract the Pagans from this polytheistic heathen festival by offering up a St. Valentine’s Day celebration. The Saint was traditionally honored the day before Lupercalia, so it was the convenient and logical choice to replace or outshine the Roman holiday. In this St. Valentine’s Day celebration, the priests maintained the tradition of sweethearts for the boys and girls. After all, they didn’t want to take all the fun away from the misguided mortals and thereby make the ‘new’ religion unbearable.  Eventually the priests did try to inspire the boys to draw the names of Saints out of a hat to determine which Saintly life each should try to emulate in the following year. That attempt didn’t make for such a joyous celebration, so the choosing of sweethearts was reinstated, now under the protection of Saint Valentine, and Sainthood, well – that was left to the dedicated few.

This history and folklore blends together nicely for an overview of the evolution of our contemporary celebration, but some issues continued to perplex me.  Take Cupid, for example. How did this mischievous, winged cherub become the idol for the lovelorn; the angel on whom is pinned all romantic expectation; the archer whose power is love, inspiring us mortals to wish our beloved’s hearts pierced by his arrow?

It seems he is Roman mythology’s answer to the Greek God of Love, Eros. A St. Valentine’s Day evolved into a celebration of love and romance, Cupid was prayed to and became inseparable from the festivities. Originally, Cupid was a young man whose image was associated with vitality, passion, virility, sexuality, and implied danger. His sexual energy was seen as threatening by the people of the church, and contrary to what they intended for the celebration. After all, Valentine was a Saint: chaste, pure and, well, Saintly. There ensued Cupid’s regression into the de-sexualized infant creature whose image today graces our greeting cards and decorations for February 14.

Hence, we’ve got fact and fiction, folklore and tradition. There’s the notion of springtime and rebirth arising out of winter and death. Natural cycles of fertility and the continuity of life are symbolized by birds mating, and vulnerability is encouraged as we are coaxed into exposing our hearts. This Saint Valentine’s Day celebration certainly has elements that appeal to a sensitive and romantic spirit.

Then, there’s the Greeting Card Industry. The tradition of sending a card to one’s beloved with the Valentine mantra, “Be Mine” was initially left to artisans and poets and those with the patience of a Saint to cut and paste fabric , paper and lace into invaluable tokens of love. It wasn’t until the late 18^th Century and the invention of lithography that Valentine’s Day cards became accessible to the masses and, consequently, pop-culture.  Initially the cards were sold along with lace and hearts so the sender could personalize what was indeed a very personal message. Eventually, however, the cards evolved into variations of what we buy today: someone else’s words and designs used to illustrate and communicate what we feel, at least at the moment of purchase, under the pressure of love’s obligation to Saint Valentine.

It’s not all bad. If you’re not a poet or an artist but have really strong feelings for someone, along with an urgent need to express them, and if it happens to be during the first half of February AND you have a couple of free hours, you’re likely to find just the right card to express your emotions. If you want to take the creature with whom you are enamored  to a candle-lit, romantic, invitation-only dinner for two on or around February 14^th, I say, “Bon Appetit!” On the outside chance that fresh-cut flowers and boxed-chocolates are your style, there’s no reason to limit yourself from giving these to your beloved simply in protest against consumerism and market-based tradition.

As for me, I can happily resume reading Valentine’s Day cards with a new appreciation for the celebration.  St. Valentine’s history and the story of his tragic death couple with the beauty of nature and the continuity of life to create a western tradition of devoting a day to reveling in the magic of romance and love. What better aspect of life to celebrate in the dead of winter?

Corina Benner is a  Philadelphia-based writer, actor, and creative spirit, perpetually in search of meaning in the chaos and apparent senselessness of the world around her.

 

"Thank you, M'am"

   I love to engage taxi drivers. They almost always seem to be from somewhere else. The young man who driving the cab I eventually got into was from Pakistan, the Swat Valley. I don't really know much about his country, but I've heard that this is a very beautiful place, and quite a tourist destination. I said how ironic it is that he left a tourist destination to work in a tourist destination. He let me know that he couldn't earn enough at home to support his whole family: wife, 1 child, parents, sister. Women don't work where he is from, and his little girl is only 2. He told me that he works 12 hours a day, 7 days a week driving a cab: 5 pm - 5 am. For this, maybe he gets to go home every 1 1/2 or 2 years, and stay for around 40 days. He said, 'this is no life.' I asked him if he thought his family appreciated his efforts to support them, and the sacrifices he made to do it. His answer was that there was no choice. I offered that most people are willing to go to great lengths to help the people we love, but that feeling appreciated makes it easier. We shared a laugh about that, acknowledging that no-one feels 'too appreciated.' I reflected that it must be strange for him to be living in a place of such great wealth, and his answer surprised me. He said that most of the people didn't seem happy. They have more problems, and so many needs. He did acknowledge that they have an easier time getting their basic needs met, which makes their life a little easier. There is no end to human suffering.
     I told him that I am here teaching yoga teachers. He said, "Oh, yoga, I can't do that. It's so hard!" I agreed that it's 'hard,' but that he could do it, just to whatever extent possible. That yoga isn't really about contorting your body into strange shapes, but ultimately about finding happiness in life, just as it is, regardless of your external circumstances. It made me wonder if this would be possible for this young man.
     Confronting reality can be so painful. As an optimistic person, I'm always looking for the bright side. But seeing his plight, and seeing no way out, how on Earth could I genuinely help this person? Maybe asking him about his life and listening to his answer and feeling some of his burden helps to lighten his load. Maybe smiling and being kind and interested and valuing him as a human being helps. When we got to my apartment he said that this was a very nice neighborhood, very expensive place to live. It is a very lovely neighborhood, quite safe and beautiful. It's not ritzy, but to him, it probably looks like heaven. It made my heart break that there is no way he could even aspire to the level of luxury that I take for granted. How must it be for him to see and feel and know that? How could anyone make sense of this? Who is born where and under what circumstances, and why? How can I take credit for anything I've ever done, when I have the privilege of being born in relative affluence? I grew up rather poor by American standards, but by worldly standards, I am among the richest on Earth. How could I ever complain about anything?
     Getting out of his cab, I offered a 30% tip, saying, "I don't know what might be able to change for you in your life, but I hope you can find some happiness. He said, "thank you, m'am."

Bodhisattva in the taxi queue

     Standing in the queue for a taxi last night was an interesting experience. I came from Balance Center with my hair all pulled back in a pony tail, coated in oil from the spa treatment. There were only 3 groups in front of me, and I didn't think I would be waiting too long. Just behind me were two women: one maybe my age, one quite a bit younger, along with two little ones, maybe ages 2 and 4. The littlest one slept most of the time in a slumped upright position in a stroller, while the other looked was standing up, looking around and engaging her mom. At one point, the older woman turned to the group of teenagers standing just behind us in the parking lot and asked them what they wanted, and why they were staring. She threatened to call the police if the boys didn't stop talking about them. I hadn't been aware of the distress, but admired her for addressing them directly.
     The first cab came right away. It was the first night of the weekend, and traffic was at a standstill. The next empty cab didn't arrive for 20 minutes. As the line moved along, I kept thinking about the Bodhisattva vow: to let everyone "go in front of you." I haven't taken the vow, but I think about it all the time. Essentially, it's an aspiration to help all of humanity, and utilizing your life in service of others. I realized that there would be no end to the line for me, if I kept letting everyone go in front of me. This is part of the point, I think, that there is no end to human suffering. I thought about how I'd gotten to work at 8:30 am, and now it was 8:40 pm, and I was really hungry.
     When I was standing in the front, I kept thinking that when the cab came for me, I would step aside and let the women with the small children go in front of me. Just as I made that decision, a cab pulled up. I was about to tell them, when a man wearing the local dress who hadn't been standing in line walked up to the cab before it got to me, opened the passenger door, and got in. There were two security men observing the situation, and tension began to rise. A young, very skinny boy three or four behind me in the queue walked up to the security guy to complain. I couldn't hear the conversation, but saw the security man gesture toward me, indicating that I was next in line anyway, and so it didn't matter about his complaint. The boy stood by the passenger window making his case, and I believe the local man handed some money over to him. After the security man said something, the man got out of the car in a gesture of aggression and violence and walked toward the security guard, threatening him. The boy stood in front of him, trying to calm him down and prevent a fight. Apparently, once the police are called here someone is always fined. Maybe the security guard threatened to call the police, or in some way challenged the local man's authority to take a taxi without queuing up. It occurred to me that, while I was contemplating my small gesture of  generosity, I got to witness profound arrogance, ignorance and indifference. These are certainly the roots of many people's suffering. So, I didn't get this cab.
     Then a cab pulled in, and just as I turned to the young woman behind me to tell her I would let her go in front of me, another cab pulled directly behind it. She said, "Oh no, no, it's ok." I said, "Well, look, there's another cab immediately following." She was looking at the other woman for approval, when the first cab now dimmed his overhead light and drove off without taking on a new passenger.
     Initially I thought that my gesture of letting them go first would seem and feel insignificant, because how easy it is to give up the cab when I know my 'relief' is directly behind it. After the first cab drove away, I still insisted that they take the next cab. Oddly, this made me feel better about it, like I wasn't being stingy or primarily looking out for myself while ostensibly appearing generous. Another woman toward the back of the queue noticed my gesture, and made her own effort to help these women by trying to get the trunk open, so she could put her stroller and bags there. This other woman, maybe 3 or 4 behind me, also had a stroller. I didn't actually see the baby, but I'm guessing the baby was in her husband's arms. I thought about how long it would take for me to keep letting people go in front of me so that this woman could get a cab. By this point I'd been standing in line for 40 minutes. Deciding that I couldn't help that family today, I hopped in the next cab.
  

"You always look like like you're expecting something good to happen."

     It's interesting what 3 days off in Dubai can do. 

     The mini-vacation started with a meet-up of some of the students from last year's foundational training. We met up at the Belgian Beer Cafe in Madinat Jumeirah for an outdoor table, good food and some wine. Alcohol is not readily available in Dubai, but restaurants that are connected to hotels can serve it. 

     The training last year was so special to me, and connecting with the students was more heart-warming and affirming than I could express. During that training I felt like I let my guard down, perhaps more than usual, and I believe that was met with plenty of genuine authenticity from the students. Plus, we spent so much concentrated time together, through good and bad moods, meal breaks, in the context of the intensely personal practice of yoga. It was a bit like boot camp or surviving something very challenging in a group setting, which creates a special kind of bond. 

  On Monday, Colette picked me bright and early with a picnic in hand, and we spent the morning and early afternoon at a no-frills beach just off the side of the road. The water was lovely, and the conversation fantastic. She and I hadn't spent a lot of time together during the training, but got on like school girls chatting away. I wasn't sure how the day would go, but couldn't have been more pleased with the outcome. When she had to go pick her children up from school, I came back to the apartment where I'm staying and helped myself to a nap by the pool. There is something about falling asleep in the arms of the sun that is just so satisfying! Later Clarie took me to Zen Yoga for a vinyasa class with a lovely teacher named Laura. During the 'set your intention' opportunity, I decided that I would practice to remember the joy of practicing yoga. When your passion becomes your livelihood, the joy can get veiled by every day concerns. It was so nice to be an anonymous student in the class, simply there to practice yoga. I sweated A LOT, and was positively beaming when I met Noura for dinner down at Wagamama. 

     Tuesday turned out to be less joyful. Colette picked me up early, and we headed out to find a new destination for me. We chose Mirdif City Center, which is a mall not too close to the center of town. Malls are very popular here, but they wipe my energy away. I ended up feeling blue, missing my husband, and lamenting the 'time off.' My feelings were that, if I'm away to work, I'd rather work so I can earn more time off with my family. I was quite homesick, at least for a little while, and a bit disillusioned by the fantasy that is Dubai. It is a spectacular show but, as with everything, there is a shadow side. There can be a strong sense of materialism and greed, and of course, despair. It seems that luxury is often built on the backs of the poor and disempowered, and it's not difficult for me to get swept away by the sadness and cruelty that are tied up with humanity. This is a land of extremes, and this is where things can be most stark. 

     Noura and I were planning a cheese fondue in my apartment in the evening. But the weather was so nice, and I would be indoor-bound for the next training. I asked her if, instead of staying in for dinner, if she'd be interested in going to the Dubai Mall to watch the fountain dance. This is such a wondrous, spectacular and amazing experience, I knew I couldn't stay blue. This is the largest water fountain in the world (Dubai likes to the biggest everything), and each evening on the half-hour, starting at 7 pm, they have a show. It reminds me of fireworks, but with water spray rather than a sulfur smell. 

     Here are two links, in case you'd like to check it out. Of course, video doesn't capture the full experience, but it's still worth seeing. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KMc5HSCOLoo&feature=related (this is to Michael Jackson's Thriller); http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Yq84oDpIPc&feature=related (and this is to Whitney Houston's I Will Always Love You ... they played this one while I was there, and I will admit that I cried. What can I say, it was an emotional day!) 

     I realize that, having peeked a bit behind the veil to see the despair of Dubai, I wanted to connect with the delight and fantasy of this place. It's so funny to me that I'm here teaching a Yin Yoga training, since Yin is about what's hidden. 

   Anyway, Wednesday I got to spend the day at a beach resort to which Nicole has a membership. Sunbeds, a pool winding through palm trees, and waiter service by the sea. That was so relaxing. I have tan lines even after religiously applying the 85 spf sunscreen! 

     The 2nd Yin TT started today, and I believe we are off to a really good start. Once again, as always here, it is a multi-cultural group. Each student was asked to say, among other things, where they are from. One woman said, "I don't know where I'm from. I grew up in South Africa, my children have New Zealand passports, I've lived here for some years, but I don't know where is home." Modern nomads. I'm excited about this second training. There are some long-time students and teachers in the group, and a couple of Zumba teachers who recognize the need to slow down and nourish their bodies. There is a nice energy in the mood, and I couldn't be more excited to report that there is a local woman, and Emirati, in the class. Yoga is indeed spreading, and may be the force that can unify the whole world. 

     I ended the day with a 2-hour "Chakra Balancing" treatment. It started with a body scrub made of rose petals, was followed by an oil massage accompanied by chakra bija mantras and essential oils, finished with a facial and was topped off by a little hot oil drip on the forehead and a scalp massage. The very sweet Ukrainian woman who treated me told me she was very excited that she got to work on me. I've been coming in there for a week, and previously for a month, and she said that I have such positive energy. While sweeping her arms out to the sides and up toward the sky, in her broken English she said, "You always seem like you are expecting something good to happen." This seems like a really nice way to be regarded and remembered. 

Wrapping up Yin TT #1

It's Sunday in Dubai, and today is the last of the first Yin Yoga TT. 


Our days are from 9 am -6 pm, so I haven't done a whole lot more than teach, eat and sleep. Sadly, the night before last I didn't do enough sleeping, finding myself unalterably awake at 2:30 am.  That's a tough hour to start the day. On top of the sleep deprivation, my tummy felt queasy, I felt a uneasy with a bit of a throaty rasp, none of which contributed to feeling "on" while teaching. Apparently a stomach bug has been going around, with a few of the students just getting over the yuck.  Nicole gave me a tincture from Singapore that one dabs on the soles of the feet and the back of the neck to recover more quickly from sickness. Ava gave me some Ashwaganda herbs. Elise gave me a lovely packet of ginger 'tea' from Thailand, all of which made my soul feel better. During the lunch break I was able to schedule a Shirodhara treatment, which is just about the best thing in the world! It's an Ayurvedic treatment in which you are first rubbed down with oil, and then a continuous stream of warm sesame oil is streamed across your forehead for 45 minutes or so. This soothes the frontal lobe of the brain and induces deep relaxation. I am a bit embarrassed to admit that I woke myself up a few times snoring! The hot oil then drips across your face and into your hair, which is very conditioning. The treatment is followed by some time in the steam room so that your pores open and the oil is absorbed into your skin. It's heaven, and definitely helped prepare me to make it through the rest of the day. 


36-hours of training in 4 days is pretty intense. I think the students are coming away with a solid base of understanding that they will be able to integrate, share and then build on. They're very receptive, and seem to be really enjoying the experience. 


Tonight, after the training, there is a small group of last year's Foundational TT meeting at the Belgian Beer Cafe at Madinot Jumeriah for some festivities. I'm excited to see the ones who haven't enrolled in the Yin training, and looking forward to a little socializing. 


As for Dubai itself, the weather that I've been 'outside' for has been lovely. Not too hot, not too dry. Strangely, though, while Ynske drove me home yesterday evening at around 6:30, the sun looked like a full moon. It was really bizarre to see the bright orange sun look like a pearl. Ysnke said it was 'dust,' Noura says it's sand. I'll try to take a photo, but I'm sure a more sophisticated camera would be needed to really do it justice. 


After today I have 3 days off IN A ROW! This rarely happens Stateside, so I'm just so looking forward to it. One of the students has offered me a guest pass to the beach hotel where she has a membership, which includes a pool, maybe some restaurants and a bar? I'm hoping to make it over to the Dubai mall to see the dancing fountain, and also possibly the Dubai aquarium, with a walk through tunnel through the water displaying stingrays and sharks above. The Atlantis Resort is close by, and they do have a day rate which Noura says it's way overpriced for what they offer. I think this is the place with an aquarium so large that hotel rooms are positioned so that the window looks into the aquarium ... for something like $3,000 a night. Um, yeah, obviously, I won't be staying there! 

"Let's Get This Training Started!"

     Day 2 in Dubai was day 1 for the first Yin Yoga Training. The class is full with 20 students, hailing from all over the world. I even learned of a 'new' place ... "Seychelles," apparently near Maldives, which is where one of the students is from. We've also got representatives from Malaysia, Jordan, Beirut, France, Ireland, Sweden, Germany, the UK, Australia ... I am perpetually awed and inspired by the power of Yoga to cross cultural barriers and unite people in the heart. 
     Most of the participants have only a minor relationship with Yin Yoga, so teaching them is also introducing them. A few have already experienced profound releases of stored emotions, and most of them were absolutely beaming after our first group practice together. I continue to be grateful for the hard work Paul Grilley has done spreading the good Yin Yoga word, as I meet more and more acceptance of the validity of yin yoga and the reality of anatomical difference. For years Paul was like a little salmon swimming upstream, with his ideas continuously rejected by 'conventional wisdom.' In the short 8 years that I've been teaching Yin Yoga, I personally feel so much more acceptance about the practice, that I no longer feel like I need to make each class a 90-minute info-mercial extolling the benefits of passive postures sustained for 5 minute intervals. 
     One of the students is a long-time Iyengar yoga student, and so the 'lazy' approach is very challenging for her to sink into. I admire her willingness to maintain an open and curious mind as she validates her own experience through the laboratory of her own practice. I suspect that, as a mother of two small children, she will find deep respite and replenishment in the practice of yin yoga, which has the power to build energy and smooth out its pathway. 
     Training is from 9-6, so it is literally the entire day. We only take an hour lunch break, with another 15 min break in the afternoon, so it is full on. Noura and I got dinner in the Dubai Marina Mall, sitting out on the deck to enjoy our salads on mini-couches at the table. I was slumped over by the end, with very little to say. She was extremely perceptive and accommodating, getting me home straight away. 
     This morning I'm up at 5 am, sipping on French press coffee after my hot lemon water. My yoga mat is right next to the computer, so after this post I will sink into some Yin Yoga, followed by some vinyasa and meditation. 

     Four of the students from last year's foundational training are in this yin training, and we are trying to gather the rest of the group for a meal and a few beverages, perhaps Sunday night. There is definitely a feeling of cOMing hOMe being here, which brings me such joy. Dubai for me is not about nightlife or shopping, but instead about working hard and sharing yoga which, I must admit, are so fulfilling and rewarding to me. If I'm to be honest, however, I do need to admit that on this trip I do hope to do at least a little shopping, too!