up, I’m weak willed. But not totally. I’m now getting up at 5:45 a.m. on Tuesdays and Thursdays, in order to attend a 7:15 a.m. yoga class. This is called morning practice. At first I was grumpy in class, but I’ve gotten better. However, I’ll never be billed as Little Miss Sunshine.
On yoga days, I remain tired, but virtuous. Today was, quite obviously, not a yoga day. Rather than feel like a virtuosin, I felt like a sloth. I even moved around like one, hovering in the dark recesses of the cabin and peering out from behind chairs and the couch. I’m actually a card carrying member of Utah Phillup’s Sloth and Indolence party, though I’m not indolent.
Pete and I compensate for getting to bed early by getting to bed late, seldom before midnight. This is when I get my second wind.
Friends and people who know us would describe Pete and me as being industrious because during our waking hours we appear to be human dynamos. Pete and I are always doing something. We have that kind of a place and live that kind of a lifestyle. For example, in the next few days we’ll be moving snow around. But, if someone stops by for a visit, we’ll stop what we’re doing and offer them a cup of tea.
I recently heard someone on the radio say that we live in a society which values industriousness. For example, one is in good societal graces if they’re seen shoveling snow. But one is in bad societal graces if they’re seen making snow angels in the same snow.
I would like to strike a balance, or err on the side of non-industriousness. I have not made any snow angels lately, and this is a really sad comment on my otherwise very good life. Sleeping in – well, this is one way in which I am striking a balance.
Next: 366. 12/13/12: Mother Nature’s Song and Dance