• Every morning, I leave my home and drive to work. My car rises a small hill, out of our little holler (as we have come to call the place where our home in the woods rests), and I take a left onto the street that will lead me to the main road. That left hand turn brings me to my first glimpse of the sky for the day and it is always, always a beauty. The sky greets me with clouds dappled with sunshine in the most brilliant array of colors and patterns. I was trying to memorize all the different ways the sky greets me but they became too numerous. I simply appreciate my little patch of art every morning.
• My yogi teaches me continually the power of breath. I don’t wanna breathe, I think to myself as he teaches me some new breathing technique: bellows breath and dragon breath and fire breath. Greet the sun with a lion breath. Alternate nostril breath. Diaphragm breathing techniques. Haji breath. He counts for me to breathe in and then counts for me to breathe out. I am so sick of breathing. I am so sick of counting and holding the breath. Do not make me do this yogi. I flutter my eyes open and he is watching me. This is too hard, I think. The breathing is just way too hard. Why can’t I just breathe normally? I’ll breathe because I want to not because you tell me too, and I do a little renegade thing where I breathe out of the same nostril twice. Oh yogi. When will I learn?
• My friend makes maple leaf cookies every year and gives me a little bag. They are flavored with maple syrup and cut in all sizes of maple leaf. I do not share them. When I get my little bag of cookies I cannot wait to open the bag and eat them in one sitting before anyone asks me to share. Love the maple leaf cookies.
• The darkness has finally hit and with that chill in the air, it strikes me that it is good conjuring weather. I find myself wondering if I should google how to cast a spell or better yet, create a voo-doo doll. I think I need a lock of hair to create a real voo-doo doll. Now in the darkness of early night, I plan how to steal a lock of hair so that I might use it to cast a spell and wreak havoc. There is something about the arrival of the night, day of the dead, winter time hibernation, that brings out a need for real magic. If anyone knows any please send it to me. All spells welcome.
• I am guessing our commander in chief keeps his hair trimmings under lock and key.
• In April, I will be participating in National Poetry Writing Month or NAPOWRIMO as we insiders call it. We write a poem a day to a new prompt everyday. A bunch of us will get together at the beginning of the month to have a little lesson about poetic form, and we’ll get together at the end of the month to share what we’ve written. In between we will write and share and write and share and read. This month-long celebration of poetry makes me very happy. I look forward to it as much as I used to look forward to Christmas as a kid. I think it is because of a daily push and daily permission to be creative. It is a cliché to talk about creative juices, but that is exactly what it feels like. Like someone just has fed me joy and it is pulsing in my veins. Every day.
• I still love the end of every yoga class, everywhere in the world, when I bow my head and say “namaste” to the teacher and to myself. I whisper it under my breath with reverence. I love the feeling of hands in prayer position; I love the meanings of the word; I love the subtle bow of the head. One teacher I have now, makes a point of bowing to every student in the class. I love that.
Namaste. Amy for the PGM