I didn't do any practice yesterday; yoga gets addicting, whenever I start really enjoying it I remember all those silly yoga accessories, pink shirts that say "Yoga Girl" under a little black outlined cartoon woman with a ponytail stretching into a posture I'm not sure really exists... Or just the way in America it seems as if we've got to consume something in order to truly know it, or hold it, "consuming the other" -- so if you really like something, it isn't enough to really like it, you must prove it through consumption, your lifestyle, your hobbies.

Anyhow, practice today felt like letting things go, stretching to get air and space back into pockets of my body where things had compacted without rigorous movement. I feel like those spaces I now have after practice daily didn't exist before; I've had to create them through practice and continue to maintain them. As if my body really is addicted to that movement, as if the opening out is dangerous without upkeep. Things get locked in, tension, things.

I have been doing a lot of complaining lately, here at least, probably everywhere else. I've been feeling dissatisfied. I feel like things, people go too fast to act wholly all the time. It's hard to be present when others are granted a wall around themselves by living elsewhere and inhabiting personas which are not their true selves. That's the challenge, I guess, and why it's a constant journey with no destination. This is supposed to be the whole point.