smile

Oh irony, you are a clever clever trickster. Yesterday I was in a pretty good mood and the prompt was misfortune. Today's prompt is 'smile' and I am trying to view my laptop monitor through the flashing swirling aura of an impending migraine. It's coming on, and it's coming fast, if the dance of lights in front of me is any indication, and it usually is.

But, I said I’d blog every day for 100 days. I said, at least to myself, that I’d be unreasonable about it; as in, I would ignore any excuse or reason that might keep me from blogging. And, while I can only see clearly out of the outer edges of my sight, well, at least I can see that, right?

I am, oddly, smiling to myself as I play with editing, and trying to re-read writing I cannot see. I have to hold my head sideways and use my peripheral vision. It’s kooky. The squiggling red lines seem alive on the page. It’s like this – tape two kaleidoscopes in front of your face and then try to type.

Which makes me think. If I can blog – just because I said I would – even when I can’t really see the screen, what’s to keep me from smiling just because I said I would. Or doing anything else I say matters? Hmmm ... that’s one to ponder, right after I find my migraine medicine.

misfortune

Misfortune had made Lily supple instead of hardening her, 
and a pliable substance is less easy to break than a stiff one. 
Edith Wharton

If fortune favours the bold, who does misfortune favour? The mousy, homebound wallflower? That seems unlikely. I mean, if you’re just sitting on your couch, how can misfortune even find you?

Well, it turns out that it can. It rides in on the coat tails of loved ones, snoops around for what matters most, and starts messing about with its sledge hammer.

Misfortune is more insidious than an uninvited guest - it’s a goblin – hiding in wait until you’ve relaxed enough to think it gone. Just when you’re breathing again, it pops out. Usually with worse behaviour than the first time.

I sometimes feel one startle from shattering, but I hope against all reason that, like Lily, I’m actually becoming more supple.

memory

Why is a memory that retains EVERYTHING considered a 'good' memory? I have one of these, and, frankly, I would give anything to forget. To forget the irretrievable mistakes. The forget enough of the past that it stops getting in the way of my future.

To be honest, the accuracy of my memory is actually up for some debate. But there’s a close circle of people who assume it to be accurate, so the things I remember the way I remember them are not often questioned. Except when they are.

I know we are supposed to learn from everything that happens. But once it’s over, couldn’t we just remember the lesson and forget the teacher?

breathe again

Back in the studio. Back to the purple mat, the short shorts, the racer back tank, and the chance to breathe again. It has been far too long since my last yoga class, and it’s especially special to be there with STG. Yoga for 2. Separate in our practices, but together in our goals.

I miss yoga when I’m too long between visits to the studio. Yes, it’s possible to practice it at home, but in the studio, under the tender guidance of the teacher, I expand. My breath is slower and deeper, my spine straighter, my life simpler.

There’s no lulugirl inside me waiting to burst out. Just an aging mom with an aging body and an ancient practice that meets me where I am and guides me in the way I want to go ... and sharing the class with STG reminds me that wherever I'm going, we're going together. 

drive

I hold on white-knuckled. For no reason other than the excess of anxiety that needs expression somewhere through and out of my body. I brake, although the pedal is across the car from me. I try to slow my breathing. 

For some reason, closing my eyes makes it worse - I can't do my usual calming routine. I need to keep my eyes on the road so I can anticipate the next disaster. 

I used to love mountain drives. The curves. The hills. The speed. The centrifugal forces acting on my body. But not this year. This year I needed to control the things that could be controlled. And yes, I am cognizant of the quote from that Tom Cruise-Nicole Kidman travesty ‘Days of Thunder,’ “control is an illusion, you infantile egomaniac.” 

But sometimes an illusion is all that’s needed.