Grateful: Day 108 - Shaved, But Smiling

The time, thanks to blessed connections and smooth-running trains, to visit that blissful pond again this morning, the last time in a fair old stretch as I'm away. Last night, it was trying to snow. It didn't manage, but there was frost on the cars and on the grass and a healthy bite in the air.

The next pond down had ice at one end. The lifeguards had left the aerator on in the ladies pond, so no tinkling music for me yet. I'll be frustrated if I miss the whole of the 'cold snap' the papers are promising (well, they're threatening, but it's all promise to me). I want to swim in ice! Perhaps I have a secretly weak left ventricle, and all this missing of icy weather is keeping me alive. Maybe I have a purpose to be here a bit longer, and that's all helping towards it.

I had tears in my throat a little bit saying goodbye to Ruth this morning. I hid it badly. Not sure why I tried to hide it at all. Probably because if I'd let it out, it would have been a proper old blub and I didn't want that. It's sad and happy at the same time. It's good. Missing someone is good. New chapters are good too. Even being moved is a great thing.

I smiled today at a chunky chocolate labrador with expectant eyes and a tail itching for a wag. I was helped by a number of people - the station attendant at Gerrard's Cross, who didn't know where my hotel was, but took me to someone who did. In between, I was waylaid by someone else, eager to help, and the taxi driver who finally did help me pretty much encouraged me to walk, rather than pay £6.50 to get the train.

I'm strangely grateful that I'm not seeing a friend I was looking forward to seeing tomorrow. Jörn, who I met in New Zealand about ten years ago now... He's coming to London and we were going to squeeze in a meeting between Gerrard's Cross and Bristol. I would have very much liked to see him, but I'm relieved not to be packing so much in. It's a busy few days/weeks anyway, so let's do this thing and have a moment or two more peace. We can see each other another time. It's good to be back in touch.

I am grateful for free internet and a warm hotel room. So warm, in fact, that it brings me to my first fully naked blog*. I'm only surprised it hasn't happened sooner. Still, what with living in other people's houses and the weather not really being buff-friendly, it just hasn't occurred. Well, now it has. I may have to do naked sleeping too. I'm buggered if I can work out how to change the heating and i'm not going back to reception (I've already been down for an ethernet cable and called for help finding the kettle) because I'm naked and I have no desire to get dressed again.

I am grateful, now, for SOME sense of peace in my brains and stomach. I'm ready for my event tomorrow. I'm nervous, and aware that there will be things for me to improve on after the first one, and the second... but in a much readier way than a few hours ago, when the nerves and the doubts were bigger than the readiness. I think the naked rehearsal of that helped too. It's harder to feel too much fear when you have in your throat a tiny lump of gratitude, remembering that the last time you ran this sequence, you were laid bare. Could be worse. Cue some serious anxiety dreams tonight. Oh, if only I had cheese, and could chivvy them on a little.

I am grateful for West Yorkshire news, and a potentially positive decision on something that's been a concern for a very long time, and more so last year. Nothing is certain - not the outcome or even the start of things - but there is hope that the right thing is being done, insofar as there can be 'a' right thing. That a right thing is being done. That there is purpose to this action. Apologies for the intentional vagueness. When it's all over, that'll be the time for details.

Now is the time for yoga (let's stick to the theme of the evening - too hot in here for clothes), a little meditation, a tiny last revise and sleep. Sleep. Sleeeeep. Thank you.

* I didn't like the images 'naked blog' threw up, so I defaulted to 'shaved dog' instead. I didn't like all of those either, but these, I did. Any dog, in my eyes, looks better shaved. Look at the lion dog. It'd be an ungainly bollock of a thing with hair like that all over. Shave it and it's pleasing. Let it grow and it's annoying.

I love the picture above of a 'naked yoga' t-shirt. Surely it should be a tattoo. Or a transfer at the very least. Putting it on clothes? Makes me not believe the lady in the photo. Do you? Do you really love naked yoga? Ho don't ring true. Personally, the only time I'm ever going to do a naked Downward Dog is when there's nobody else in the room, and that's final.