BUT MADE TO TEACH

 31 of #100daychallenge

As days go, this one was definitely on the scale of okay. Debee helped me gigantically by reorganizing several random boxes of stuff like office supplies. Now, I finally have the drawer space to put things away and have a pretty good chance of finding them again.

There has been some vague emotional contemplation of past lives and loves. This is more a general examination that a deep dive anywhere. 

The next day.

I fell down on the challenge yesterday. I will have to make it up. I did write, just not enough to post. And whatever I was thinking about lost loves and past lives is gone by now. These thoughts are sort of roiling around sub-consciously; they will likely find a place to surface.

I made dinner last night for Debee and Janet which was low-key spectacular (oxymoronic?). Chicken roasted with butter, lemon, and olive tapenade which worked surprisingly well, balsamic sautéed Brussels sprouts, marinated roasted asparagus, and a light balsamic dressed salad with Rockenwagner's Rosemary Garlic Bread. Janet and Debee thought it was all very fancy. As Debee had cleaned the dishes earlier, it was very easy because I did not have to clean up. She cleaned up after dinner too, although McCoy and Idrisse helped by getting on the dining room table and picking over the leftover chicken. 

I taught "yoga" again today. Amazing that I see improvement after only three weeks. That should be some kind of encouragement. On the other hand, it is saddening to see how hard it is for some of them to stand for five or ten minutes. Learning to adapt one's (however vague) plans to the limitations of the class is challenging. But their eagerness to practice is something out of a Hollywood movie. I read them the Chinese Foot Chart poem as we do a lot of work on the feet. For the diabetics, and even for Janet, the foot massage with the tennis balls is huge. I left tennis balls for Jimmy and Joseph and they both work with the tennis balls between classes. I am tempted to try to figure out another class each week, but perhaps I am getting ahead of myself, particularly if I am trying to teach for the City and/or the Senior Center.

ADDED SIGNIFICANCE

In the wake of

horrible events

each act or word

is fortified with

added significance,

unabsorbable as

nutrients added

to the outside

of food; it can’t

do any good.

As if significance

weren’t burdensome 

enough. Now

the wave-slapped

beach rocks not

just made to talk

but made to teach.

— Kay Ryan, The Best of It: New and Selected Poems, Grove Press, New York, 2010