accidentally on purpose
February 4, 2017 § Leave a comment
Last week I suffered ailments of comic proportions. Physically uncomfortable and persistently impatient, I was desperate to exercise against my better judgement. Having only recently gained the momentum of new muscle I was stubbornly determined to rest, productively.
I fell into a compromise that created stillness with a gentler practice of yoga.
It should be noted that I have failed colorfully and inflexibly at previous attempts in more public displays, but this past week was an accident in grace. Small pockets of time with unhurried devotion produced a new relationship with an old beau.
I’m playing at something I love with all the fussy infatuation of novelty in the comfort of well-groomed familiarity. Postures of strength and lines of submission.
More importantly, I am practicing without an audience; there is no mirror to reflect or compare, only presence.
In the uninterrupted attentiveness, there is only the gentlest listening as I open my body and mind moment to moment.
Accidentally, on purpose.
the ostrich
January 31, 2011 § Leave a comment
I rather like burying my head in the sand, assuming my other end is sticking in the air. Somewhere between the cleansing breaths and elongated muscles of yoga postures I forget about dirty laundry, my children’s homework, and groceries. I press comfortably and push powerfully into moments of strength. I catch a glimpse of my inner warrior and ground myself in a moment of peace. Still, my crow won’t fly, but I welcome humility and humor as old friends… and stick my head back in the sand.
scribblechic 