21.5.800–Day Four

21.5.800 Day Four

Weekly Images--Just One Available Pasasge to Yoga Class

It’s raining, again. The yard looks wild. I’m drinking too much coffee on a Friday. Yet I had nine hours sleep. My body requested it and me, I gave-in. Allowance.

The view of the lake from my hill looks misty and haunted.

Used up the leftover chicken broth to cook white basmati rice and then snipped in some fresh parsley and I set aside a big bowl for Mike’s meal tonight.

If I am to allow certain extravagances, I must strive to use all resources available, wisely.

Like cooking up baby carrots that look to dry for salad.

It is easy to stay in today. Rain. The last day of my workweek. The last night in a string of 3-11pm shifts. If I thought this week was difficult, how will I react after next week?

I must remember to ease into each day. With Breathe. With Chanting. To Stretch.

I’ve lowered the impact on my body less running, more biking, more yoga, more sleep.

My thoughts are distracted by the rain today. It is heavy. Not in strength but it looks thick and the drops large and they fall with plunks on the deck. The traffic going by hisses with spray and the dryer in the laundry room buzzes and the snaps on my pants tap and clink.

I’m craving midnight colored skies with the orange glow of campfire and the sound of night birds.

The cat tries to seek out my lap as I type.  Even he is seeking some warmth. It’s tropical out there, the pinks and whites of the roses standing out against brilliant green in the dark of a rainy day. But it is cold. Damp. Wet.

Weekly Images--Quartz and Amethyst with Bike Beyond

I had forgotten to cross out the days on the calendar and was stuck back on Saturday of last week. Have you ever done that? It is an odd occurrence for one who lives by day planner. I eeven missed meeting earlier this week. I must have not opened the day planner at all this week. I did not know I had missed the meeting until I walked past the wall calendar and it whispered for me to look-up, look-up.

I phoned my apologies.

I shorted myself an hour of pay by missing that meeting. But I had gained and hour of sleep. I wonder which was the more valuable. (We both know this answer).

The coffee feels good. Both the mug on my hands and the warmth in my belly.

The cat has decided to sit next to me. He is not in lion mode but in kitty mode. Trying to be cute and not a bother so I will share my spot of warmth on the couch and mabe give hs ears a rub.

 Never turn on the television when home alone. I like the quiet. I long for quiet.

Even the raindrops are loud today.

And the dryer.

My thoughts are short and not fluid. I need to walk riverside. I need to dress for play and hike a trail. I need to lay on sand in the sun.  I need spark. Blue. Stone. Quartz. Granite. I know I need the trails of Wetmore and Lil’ Presque.

I can take you there.

I want people in my life who offer warmth and cheer. Who are genuine. Who find blessings in ladybugs and dragonflies. Orange daylilies. The value of an apple tree with a dead branch. Birds perched in song. A sleeping mourning dove on top of a birdfeeder.

I can take you there, too.

Have I ever told you that I want to open a healing center. Not in the coty. But where yards open on lush gardens with birds. Where hummingbirds visit for nectar while massage is received?

Have I ever told you this space would have daily soup and smoothies?

That here people would meet for tea and chat?

Tai Chi next to the pond. Yoga in the yard. Laughter.

I can take you there.


Word Count: 662



About kimnixon

Upper Peninsula Michigan Artist and Writer

Posted on June 11, 2010, in 21.5.800, Yoga and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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