Friday, January 23, 2004
A Mac of one's own?
I am such an abysmal blogger. BAD bloggerlady. I guess, in order to have any continuity, you need a little space, a little time, a little breathing room. None of which I have at work, since I don’t have a computer at home. Made a couple of valiant attempts at blogging in my journal, but even that will require transcription I won’t have time to do, it seems.
Relentless cold. Pinched faces and lowered heads. Mounds of sooty ice and biting winds in these sub-zero temps. Eddie picked a good time to go to India. Maybe some day I will be in a position to follow the sunshine, but right now I make do with whatever light and rays I can get or dream up here. Wearing bright warm colors. Letting the sun from between the buildings kiss my chapped cheeks for a moment. Bringing yellow roses to Ganesha in our practice room, which itself is swathed in shades of buttercup. Letting the heart beam through against its fight to close up, and shine through as it tries to shrink. I know anything else, after this year, these months, will be easy. Easier. I know I am learning and building strength and moving forward.
Practice? Well, 't ain't easy, but I make do. Gets pretty cold in Chinatown at 6 in the morning, as I make my way to the shala in 2 or 3 or 4 layers of leggings and tops and sweaters and pants and windbreakers. Once, I timed it: getting dressed took just over 8 minutes. Not deciding what to wear, but the actual act of pulling on clothes. Had a couple of weeks where the stress I suppress and smile at most days enveloped me and consumed me. Chain reaction: hips that were smiling frowned and seized up and "hello!!" left knee reminded me to be kind and back off until things get better. Badhakonasana worse than it was the first day I got it. It is very different, this year, though. I have my backbends, and spring and Mysore to look forward to. In their time.
Relentless cold. Pinched faces and lowered heads. Mounds of sooty ice and biting winds in these sub-zero temps. Eddie picked a good time to go to India. Maybe some day I will be in a position to follow the sunshine, but right now I make do with whatever light and rays I can get or dream up here. Wearing bright warm colors. Letting the sun from between the buildings kiss my chapped cheeks for a moment. Bringing yellow roses to Ganesha in our practice room, which itself is swathed in shades of buttercup. Letting the heart beam through against its fight to close up, and shine through as it tries to shrink. I know anything else, after this year, these months, will be easy. Easier. I know I am learning and building strength and moving forward.
Practice? Well, 't ain't easy, but I make do. Gets pretty cold in Chinatown at 6 in the morning, as I make my way to the shala in 2 or 3 or 4 layers of leggings and tops and sweaters and pants and windbreakers. Once, I timed it: getting dressed took just over 8 minutes. Not deciding what to wear, but the actual act of pulling on clothes. Had a couple of weeks where the stress I suppress and smile at most days enveloped me and consumed me. Chain reaction: hips that were smiling frowned and seized up and "hello!!" left knee reminded me to be kind and back off until things get better. Badhakonasana worse than it was the first day I got it. It is very different, this year, though. I have my backbends, and spring and Mysore to look forward to. In their time.
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