life is art.
sometimes it is angry.
sometimes it is painful.
sometimes it is exhilarating.
but it is always beautiful.
sometimes it is angry.
sometimes it is painful.
sometimes it is exhilarating.
but it is always beautiful.
Although you might not notice right away (but, quite possibly you will), the yoga is working. No matter what your reason is for beginning your yoga practice, yoga will begin working on and for you in ways that you could not have consciously intended, ways that are right for you, exactly where you are, right now. Breathe. It’s all so good.
WORKWEEK
It was structured
years before you were born-
A bargain made
between unions you might never join
and religions you might never practice.
And yet as the days have passed
and the world has grown
and you have realized your worth
and begun to consider the scope
of this uneven trade,
you’re still expected
to split your days
five for them
and two for you.
My brother enlisted
in the winter. I pitched
for the sixth grade Indians
and coach said
I was almost as good
as Johnny. My mother
fingered rosary beads,
watched Cronkite say
and that’s the way it is.
I smoked my first
and last cigarette. My father
kept his promise,
washed Johnny’s Mustang
every weekend. Brenda Whitson
taught me how to French kiss
in her basement. Sundays
we went to ten o’clock Mass,
dipped hands in holy water,
genuflected, walked down
the aisle and received
Communion. Cleon Jones
got down on one knee, caught
the last out and the Mets
won the World Series.
Two white-gloved Marines
rang the bell, stood
on our stoop. My father
watched their car
pull away, then locked
the wooden door. I went
to our room, climbed
into the top bunk,
pounded a hardball
into his pillow. My mother
found her Bible, took
out my brother’s letters,
put them in the pocket
of her blue robe. My father
started Johnny’s car,
revved the engine
until every tool
hanging in the garage
shook.
in the winter. I pitched
for the sixth grade Indians
and coach said
I was almost as good
as Johnny. My mother
fingered rosary beads,
watched Cronkite say
and that’s the way it is.
I smoked my first
and last cigarette. My father
kept his promise,
washed Johnny’s Mustang
every weekend. Brenda Whitson
taught me how to French kiss
in her basement. Sundays
we went to ten o’clock Mass,
dipped hands in holy water,
genuflected, walked down
the aisle and received
Communion. Cleon Jones
got down on one knee, caught
the last out and the Mets
won the World Series.
Two white-gloved Marines
rang the bell, stood
on our stoop. My father
watched their car
pull away, then locked
the wooden door. I went
to our room, climbed
into the top bunk,
pounded a hardball
into his pillow. My mother
found her Bible, took
out my brother’s letters,
put them in the pocket
of her blue robe. My father
started Johnny’s car,
revved the engine
until every tool
hanging in the garage
shook.
Tony Gloeggler, 1969
shoulddd be doinn some of thiss… :X
My yoga teacher training was ALL stick figures.
I was once in love with this guy who told me that all his ex - girlfriends found religion after they broke up. That is still one of the most hilarious sad things I’ve ever heard. You’ve got to break someone’s heart pretty bad for them to change their entire world view.
I want to tell what the forests
were like
I will have to speak
in a forgotten language
were like
I will have to speak
in a forgotten language
…recite the list
of what you’ve learned to do without.
It is stronger than prayer.”
-Stephen Dunn, from “Traveling
of what you’ve learned to do without.
It is stronger than prayer.”
-Stephen Dunn, from “Traveling
(adapted from yesyes)
“Do you write novels?” I said.
“Novels, Lord no,” she said. “I can’t even stay married.”
Pam Houston, Waltzing the Cat
