Today I posted “Sucker Punched! 14 Ways Yoga Changed Me When I Wasn’t Paying Attention.” Read it here on elephant journal.
That’s what’s so great about yoga: it can be sweet, but it can also be sneaky. Not sneaky like I’m-gonna-shank-you, more like close-your-eyes-and-trust-me.
When I sat down to write a piece for elephant on yoga and change, I had no idea so much stuff was going to be revealed. Apparently that shit just seeps in, into your muscles and bones and sticks like Crazy Glue. I never actually thought I’d grow up, or be responsible, or having an address on my driver’s license that matches the address where I live. I just could never be bothered, and I moved a lot.
Ends up, I had more to say than I thought. What I didn’t say was…
>>I have wedding clothes and funeral clothes. When you’re on this earth a while, you have more than a few chances to wear both. But I don’t like wearing the funeral clothes to anything else, which I’m sure you understand. What does that have to do with anything, you ask? It’s just life, baby.
>>My dog Shamus is resting on my leg on the couch. He turned nine years old today. He’s not doing too well. I can’t think about it too much, because I don’t want him to see me cry. I’ve had him since he was 3 1/2 months old. I’m preparing myself. Again, it’s a part of life. (More on Shamus soon… I have a million things to say about what this little pickle taught me.)
>>I’m a nicer person. That one speaks for itself.
>>I saw a woman in a wheelchair the other day. She was sitting there, all by herself on Santa Monica and Vine. I’m quite sure she probably goes days without anyone talking to her. We should all be nicer people.
Sorry for the sorta gloomy tone here… It’s been a long, fucked up day.
Maybe this’ll help:
>>I was on my way to teach yoga yesterday. The convertible top was down (yes, it’s December and it was in the 80’s), and I was blaring The Police all the way to the studio. There’s nothin’ like music to make you feel like, well, singing and dancing.
Sometimes all I want to do is sell everything and move to a log cabin in Oregon (not that I’ve ever been there). I know I’d last about a week and a half, but it’s tempting. I’d probably do better in Tokyo, with it’s population of 34 million. And again, what does this have to do with yoga? Or anything, really? Like I said, it’s just life.