All good things today took place indoors. Why? Well, outside, it was like this:
So, back to the indoors. Breakfast at a coffee shop, with my good, good friend who happened to be in town for just a few short days.
Then, drip drip drip, rain falls steadily, I don't want to go out anymore, I do not want to go out.
Still, yoga with my yoga buddy... I wont say no to that. No photo there, though I do offer this comment: the class is a long one: two hours, combining music, meditation and the usual vinyasa practice. I should have felt the inner peace that all participants seemed to experience. Instead, I kept thinking that somehow, when nature gave out genes, she did not give me one that made me amenable to group meditation, religion, or spiritual enlightenment. As the musicians chanted site ram, site ram, site ram ram, all I could think was -- I wonder how you spell that...
And when the entire room burst into many rounds of may all *beings* be happy and free, may all things be... -- I listened carefully to see who was singing "beasts" instead of "beings." As if it mattered. And it's not as if I don't wish all beings and beasts happiness (except perhaps for mosquitoes, but I don't really think count) and yet I got no inner tranquility from singing about it with two dozen others.
Still, I am a yoga-in-smaller-doses fan. I cannot imagine becoming one of those older women who can twist herself into unlikely contortions because she does this so often that it becomes second nature. But I do love, really love the hour that I can take every few days to stretch and to exhale, so I'll stay with that attitude and not mind that occasionally, I am asked to reach for something more.
There is one more good indoor element to this day and it is Sunday dinner with my older girl and her husband. The store had monkfish for sale. Good with potatoes, prosciutto, tomato, capers...
And so we eat that, albeit not around the table, but on couches, keeping an eye toward the music that is coming at us from the Grammy Awards. Listening to music with people who know it and like it is always better than listening to it alone and so I have a wonderful handful of hours paying attention to what's cool out there.
Outside, it rained a crazy wet February rain, turning snow into slush and icicles into wet daggers that fell on anything and anyone who'd dare walk underneath a farmhouse dormer. Wham! Down goes another. And another. No respect for beasts or beings whatsoever.
Let's hope the rest of February brings in gentle days. Snow's okay. Sunshine would be sublime. I'll look for it. Tomorrow maybe?