Practice
Apparently I’ve got a lot to say tonight.
I keep thinking about, not doing yoga exactly, but doing a long session of stretching, a sort of catch up session, just to get some life back into my muscles and tendons and ligaments. Then I think of how badly I am treating my body: alcohol almost every night; coffee every morning, multiple times a day; and consuming food of less than optimal worth. I don’t want these things inhabiting the new spaces I might create in my body, and I certainly don’t want my body closing up over them if I cold turkey stop my practice.
Lately, whenever I have attempted a session, I have been distracted by menial things, so embarrassingly miniscule, which have caused me not only to end practice early, but to pause in the middle and come back a few minutes later. Why? Have I forgotten its grave importance? Yoga is simply a moving meditation, to bring you to the space where moving the body, even so little, every step is the whole of the miracle. I have forgotten even that. It isn’t easy to occupy the moment when that memory is possible.
Next semester to include poetry and writing, I may be enrolled in six to seven courses a semester. This will certainly take some time, leaving less for the outside practice (academic, physical, spiritual) that these courses will demand.
I wonder if the teaching in prisons course qualifies for Media Studies; I can’t imagine that that’s possible.
I keep thinking about, not doing yoga exactly, but doing a long session of stretching, a sort of catch up session, just to get some life back into my muscles and tendons and ligaments. Then I think of how badly I am treating my body: alcohol almost every night; coffee every morning, multiple times a day; and consuming food of less than optimal worth. I don’t want these things inhabiting the new spaces I might create in my body, and I certainly don’t want my body closing up over them if I cold turkey stop my practice.
Lately, whenever I have attempted a session, I have been distracted by menial things, so embarrassingly miniscule, which have caused me not only to end practice early, but to pause in the middle and come back a few minutes later. Why? Have I forgotten its grave importance? Yoga is simply a moving meditation, to bring you to the space where moving the body, even so little, every step is the whole of the miracle. I have forgotten even that. It isn’t easy to occupy the moment when that memory is possible.
Next semester to include poetry and writing, I may be enrolled in six to seven courses a semester. This will certainly take some time, leaving less for the outside practice (academic, physical, spiritual) that these courses will demand.
I wonder if the teaching in prisons course qualifies for Media Studies; I can’t imagine that that’s possible.
posted by Ashley at 7:59 AM
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