A short write on this chilly Monday morning — the puppy’s getting ready to be out in this frost. Myself, I’ve finally broken out the hat and gloves. I hold out as long as possible, every year, building up my tolerance, not wanting to give in to the actuality of winter. Sink into the dark, sure, but wear clothes enough to really protect my body from the elements? What do you take me for — a wuss? (That right there is a survivorprompt for another day)
How are you caring for yourself this morning? How does the candlelight find you?
What’s up for today? The Winter’13 workshop sessions are all officially underway; the last one, Write Whole, begins tonight, and I am looking forward to inviting this final workshop into my Oakland space. My body is in a state of what I am calling healed — though my piriformis and I continue to have daily conversations involving stretching, spasm-release and fluttering. It feels like she’s winking rapidly at me from within my backside, which I would like to take as something as light as flirtation rather than the profound release that she’s allowing us to settle into.
I am aware, on this morning, that I have had, over the last couple of months, the experience of re-learning how to walk. Sometimes in this healing we (or at least I) have to break all the way down in order to come into consciousness around what we know, how far we’ve come, and to get more deeply into the next layers that need some laying on of hands (whether psychic or physical). Continue reading