I spend significant time petting cats every day. They all have their moments, some being more demanding than others. If I sit in bed to read or write, I have Vera Paris to contend with, particularly in the morning as she is very playful. She is not shy about getting the attention she wants.
Oona Minnie Pearl Moonlight is highly attracted to my desk, especially if I have just returned from errands or outside work. She likes to knock things off the desk and manages to put nearly everything on the floor. I like to have a small vase of flowers on a shelf in front of me, but that invariably ends up soaking the desk. Fortunately, the laptop was elsewhere.
On a whim and at a post-Christmas sale up in Wrightwood, I bought my mom a pair of slippers with cats on them (natch). These were adorned with the exact bells Oona and Vera wear. I can tell which cat is which by how they move, but now there is the added cacophony of Janet walking around in her slippers. Figuring out the other bells took me some time.
Here's a placeholder.
I want to stay up and write about how the yoga training is challenging me and all. But we are supposed to go to bed at 10:00 and get up at 6:00. And I do need to get up early because it is my desk morning. So instead of writing about how I notice I got some less-than-desireable eating habits from my mom, I am going to take my meds, turn out the lights, and hope I am similarly inspired on the morrow.
Another morning at the desk. The orange smell fills the lobby here.
RELIEF
We know it is close
to something lofty.
Simply getting over being sick
or finding lost property
has in it the leap,
the purge, the quick humility
of witnessing a birth—
how love seeps up
and retakes the earth.
There is a dreamy
wading feeling to your walk
inside the current
of restored riches,
clocks set back,
disasters averted.
— Kay Ryan, The Best of It: New and Selected Poems, New York, Grove Press, 2010
I think this is the first morning when I have not turned on the space heater. It is slightly chilly, but it hardly seems worth the effort. Spring is coming as evinced by the greater number of folks with little kids walking past to go to VIento y Agua. I brought my own coffee (and breakfast) this morning. The door is barely open but it feels much noisier. A white SUV pulled up with what sounded like some African highlife music playing.
I'm already having a hard time focussing. Even the swoosh of cars is distracting me. Maybe sound is carrying more because of a change in the air.
I don't entirely know what I expected from teacher training but it is different than I imagined. A lot of feelings come up when I give myself a moment to reflect. I am surprised at the amount of emotion I am having regarding my body, my age, my abilities, and just generally my entire person. I feel as if my being were squinting and slightly cowering a bit. (I just noticed that the space heater isn't even here at the desk!)
I think the biggest surprise, something I had not factored in to the decision to do this training, was the internal focus. I wasn't expecting the self-examination and likely personal "re-tooling." My well-being, my integrated being, has really NEVER been an aspiration of mine. The threads of selfhood here are knotted and gnarly. This comes as a bit of a shock and definitely brings up some fear and loathing.
And there is a lot ... and I should get to some more review before this afternoon's session ... Even just trying to move towards the first round of ayurvedic eating, for instance, has much going on. I spent a couple of days in a mental kerfuffle, worrying about how I could make any of this work. And then I hit upon the idea that I could just pick an item or two and focus on integrating those things into my life. Hey! I don't have to do this all at once.
One of the things is not to overeat, not to get so full you don't even feel well. And this is where Janet comes in. Both of us have a deep addiction to Trader Joe's Popcorn with Avocado Oil and Himalayan pink salt. I managed to stop without getting to the disgusted point yesterday. When Janet woke from her nap in the evening, I asked her if she wanted dinner. She said no as she had eaten so much popcorn she was ill. Bingo.
A PLAIN ORDINARY STEEL NEEDLE
CAN FLOAT ON PURE WATER
— Ripley's Believe It or Not
Who hasn't seen
a plain ordinary
steel needle float serene
on water as if lying on a pillow?
The water cuddles up like Jell-O.
It's a treat to see water
so rubbery, a needle
so peaceful, the point encased
in the tenderest dimple.
It seems so simple
when things or people
have modified each other's qualities
somewhat;
we almost forget the oddity
of that.
— Kay Ryan, The Best of It: New and Selected Poems, New York, Grove Press, 2010
Janet voted for Elizabeth Warren.
Here's a placeholder.
I want to stay up and write about how the yoga training is challenging me and all. But we are supposed to go to bed at 10:00 and get up at 6:00. And I do need to get up early because it is my desk morning. So instead of writing about how I notice I got some less-than-desireable eating habits from my mom, I am going to take my meds, turn out the lights, and hope I am similarly inspired on the morrow.
Another morning at the desk. The orange smell fills the lobby here.
RELIEF
We know it is close
to something lofty.
Simply getting over being sick
or finding lost property
has in it the leap,
the purge, the quick humility
of witnessing a birth—
how love seeps up
and retakes the earth.
There is a dreamy
wading feeling to your walk
inside the current
of restored riches,
clocks set back,
disasters averted.
— Kay Ryan, The Best of It: New and Selected Poems, New York, Grove Press, 2010
I think this is the first morning when I have not turned on the space heater. It is slightly chilly, but it hardly seems worth the effort. Spring is coming as evinced by the greater number of folks with little kids walking past to go to VIento y Agua. I brought my own coffee (and breakfast) this morning. The door is barely open but it feels much noisier. A white SUV pulled up with what sounded like some African highlife music playing.
I'm already having a hard time focussing. Even the swoosh of cars is distracting me. Maybe sound is carrying more because of a change in the air.
I don't entirely know what I expected from teacher training but it is different than I imagined. A lot of feelings come up when I give myself a moment to reflect. I am surprised at the amount of emotion I am having regarding my body, my age, my abilities, and just generally my entire person. I feel as if my being were squinting and slightly cowering a bit. (I just noticed that the space heater isn't even here at the desk!)
I think the biggest surprise, something I had not factored in to the decision to do this training, was the internal focus. I wasn't expecting the self-examination and likely personal "re-tooling." My well-being, my integrated being, has really NEVER been an aspiration of mine. The threads of selfhood here are knotted and gnarly. This comes as a bit of a shock and definitely brings up some fear and loathing.
And there is a lot ... and I should get to some more review before this afternoon's session ... Even just trying to move towards the first round of ayurvedic eating, for instance, has much going on. I spent a couple of days in a mental kerfuffle, worrying about how I could make any of this work. And then I hit upon the idea that I could just pick an item or two and focus on integrating those things into my life. Hey! I don't have to do this all at once.
One of the things is not to overeat, not to get so full you don't even feel well. And this is where Janet comes in. Both of us have a deep addiction to Trader Joe's Popcorn with Avocado Oil and Himalayan pink salt. I managed to stop without getting to the disgusted point yesterday. When Janet woke from her nap in the evening, I asked her if she wanted dinner. She said no as she had eaten so much popcorn she was ill. Bingo.
A PLAIN ORDINARY STEEL NEEDLE
CAN FLOAT ON PURE WATER
— Ripley's Believe It or Not
Who hasn't seen
a plain ordinary
steel needle float serene
on water as if lying on a pillow?
The water cuddles up like Jell-O.
It's a treat to see water
so rubbery, a needle
so peaceful, the point encased
in the tenderest dimple.
It seems so simple
when things or people
have modified each other's qualities
somewhat;
we almost forget the oddity
of that.
— Kay Ryan, The Best of It: New and Selected Poems, New York, Grove Press, 2010
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