I joined the running group for some speedwork today. On the path, weaving between other runners, walkers and cyclists, we ran 500m 8 times with 2 minutes of rest in between, and my speed fell within 4 seconds each time, proving not my speed but surely my consistency. How to run faster is a mystery to me, as are good poetry, love, and how pearls are created.
Actually, the origin of pearls is relatively easy to explain: at the center of each pearl is a speck of dirt that irritated the shell inhabiter, and their hard beauty is the cure; the coating. Maybe there is a center of difficulty to everything.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Yesterday in yoga class I rested my forehead on my purple mat for the first time. I think the pose is called the pigeon, and I find it incredibly challenging because it wrenches apart my hips that someone, somewhere, crazy glued together while I was sleeping or looking the other way. As if the hip opening portion of the pose is not sufficient torture, the pose also requires you to bend forward over your twisted hips to test your spine and posture, too, and of course your patience. I've been attending a weekly class and the teachers always include the pigeon. Usually my forehead needs to rest on something higher than the ground, like my stacked hands or a block. Maybe my hips are finally giving in to the pressure to relax.
Love Advice #384: When love goes sour, steal the organic lemons from your ex-lover's refrigerator and make sweet lemonade.