Day 375: Elephant Power (Drink)

Eaaarrrrly morning ninja yoga in a Leeds loft. I love the quiet drive from York. I don't have to drive it. I just have to sit in a heated seat, nursing a cup of hibiscus tea. I get to peel almonds in the morning. I like that. Little pale nublets that slip out of their skins when you squeeze... or they don't, and you have to peel them off laboriously. They go in the blender to make Daniel's 'Power Drink'. It's intense. It's a proper meal. I think that if I ate a MacDonald's now, I'd be in trouble. Power Drink says no. 

I can't believe I haven't got back to Nick Blagmaster. That brilliant creature - I'm halfway through an email. I'll get there, Noopster. 

I got to go out on Lilley's bike again today. Delightful and very buffetty. It was so windy at one point that I just couldn't go forward, however much I was trying to pedal. It really made me laugh. The rain was all lashy and the wind was boofing me from all different directions. Quite dangerous, really, but very funny too. Like being in a video game. 

The river is fatter still. If the Foss comes over the flood barrier, we're fucked, apparently. Fingers crossed. 

Day 374: I Got Beef

Beefsteak

I smell of meat.* I just did yoga smelling of meat. I’m sure that’s far from sattvic. Every time I reached forward, the whiff rose up, all warm, from my arms and hands. In forward bends, my hair hung over my face and brought the pong closer. I was grateful not to be adjusted. There could have been a scene.

Beefcake

Ironic. I’ve been eating vegetarian since 14^th December, my first full day in Austria, but this is the first time I can remember smelling of meat. Maybe I’ve smelt of it for years, but never noticed. Maybe I’m the lady on the bus that people were pulling faces at and whispering, wide-eyed to each other “Beef? Lamb? No, she hums of veal.”

There is a reason. Lilley has been prescribed a few steaks a week to make sure she gets enough instant iron, so she’s obliging. This evening, I prepared one of said steaks just before leaving for the class. It’s logical, but far from pleasant. Perhaps we should see this post as an open letter to anyone I may have offended with my stench. I prostrate before you in a pulse-based apology. I can’t promise it won’t happen again, though.

Flood

Is it acceptable to be grateful for York’s flooded river. The Ouse, I think. The Foss… I’d look it up, but the internet’s shunned me again. I’m not grateful that it’s flooded, but I’m grateful for the beauty and fascination the flood waters afford. I’m also grateful for the wide yellow moon that sat low and fat in the sky this evening, making mysterious eyes from behind clouds. Humbling.

And for the opportunity to play during the yoga class, meat-hum notwithstanding. Katy let me do the relaxation. I loved it. I played with the odd hypnotic command (thank you, Eriksonian Salad cards, for reminding me of some of these patterns). Oh, and thank you for Colin, our taxi driver today, who’d like to stop smoking, please. I said I’d work with him, if he wanted to. I must give the gentleman a call.

Ashtanga tomorrow. My alarm is set for 4.35am. The clock says 23.14. Bye, then. 

* Not entirely current. I showered after yoga, to rid myself of the beef. 

Day 373: Bun

Massive iced finger. Be patient.

Yoga's pretty good, isn't it? On so many fronts. I had the pleasure of another class with Katy today. It was rich and hip-stretchy. I was supposed to assist in some way or other, but traffic oddnesses meant that instead of a lift, I had to cycle. I was pleased - I'd wanted to have a go on Lilley's leggy bike and take some evening air - but it did mean I got there a little later than planned, so I took part rather than assisting and that was just right. 

I feel I should do something requiring hip flexibility right now, so much we stretched this evening. We pigeoned, sleeping-swanned, then king-pigeoned it up to top it off. I shall sleep like a starfish, just because I can. 

I've been doing ashtanga in Leeds with Joey Miles - a very good teacher. He adjusts by having  a little lie down on top of your downward dog, or standing on your hands and launching into a push. It's really rather pleasing and such a good extra stretch. Not as careful as Sivananda, but the energy is good and lordy, it makes you strong. I noticed the change in tonight's class with Katy. There are tiny things I don't think I could do before, but now I can, with my new muscles and a little bit more core than before. I need to keep up with both styles. It will be good for soul and body alike. Maybe I'll do a Carol Vorderman and get fitter now than all through the last two decades. Fitter and calmer in the brain. Fitter and more useful. More yogaly all round.

I love an anatomical diagram, me

I loved Lilley in many different guises today, and Daniel too. I'm so very much enjoying being here, surrounded by people who think about things openly, who strive to be better, not because they think they're bad, but because we can all keep making an effort to go further, to find out more, to develop. And people who are nice to each other and who hang out with people who are nice to each other; who don't indulge in bitching or griping, but who look for the good in every situation and who go through their day saying nice things to strangers and friends; who have compassion; who look for more.

I can't say I ate all that very healthily today. Chips were involved, as was hot chocolate and a muffin. Dead food. It served its purpose, but when I came back from yoga I ate half a cucumber, just to complement the juice I'd had before and to refresh my system a little bit. I wonder what cucumber dreams are like? Perhaps I should pop an olive or a nublet of cheese to spice things up... maybe the cucumber is enough to open me to planes of specialness. Last night, following a ryvita feast, I made an escape in a sinking boat with some children (I was one too) and some oversized iced fingers with jam in the middle. Oh, and I had a Brazilian that looked like a moustache facing upwards (so if you drew on a mouth, it would be up by the belly). There will be a profound message in there. My job tonight is to find it.

This came from a 'tax return' search. His face says it.

Oh god - how could I have forgotten. I submitted my tax return today, and paid my tax bill. It was monumental (the feeling, not the bill). This is thanks to Robert Carroll, who did my accounts, recommended to me by Jen, who I did a job with last year. This chain of events that led to me saving more money than imagined, and even the promise of claiming back things next year because I didn't know about them last year. It's brilliant. Okay, so it's a big bill and it's a lot to pay at once and i've had to break into my Isa, but how wonderful that I was able to pay it and that I paid less than I would have had to thanks to Robert's patient help. And I'll know more this year too, so we can just get it in and be done with it in advance this year. 

Just before bed, an unexpected email to say a very lovely friend is planning to come to visit in February. I am delighted. Bring on the iced fingers, it's time for a yoga party.

Day 372: Peacock Tree

Perfect pair of absolute nobbers, Sandison and Muscatello

A go on Victoria Sandison in Melbourne this morning, and plans for another go later this week. That's good, isn't it? The internet was a little bit fickle this morning. It turned up its nose at smooth. Lilley showed me a magic blue cable, though, so I know now that next time the tiny pikey and I speak we'll have the most fluid of connections. Good news.

Thanks to Stef for getting back to me so quickly with help about the conference we've been invited to do something at in Belgium. We haven't spoken in months and he was on it like a (helpful) rash. A skype would be nice. I'll see if I can get hold of him. I'm so tempted by Denmark again. Not sure how I'm going to afford to do all the wonderful things I want to do this year. Better start earning some money, then. Better had. 

Lovely Lilley

Thanks for the opportunity to go and do play stuff in Europe. It's become a bit of a theme. I love doing this kind of thing. I was going to say 'I love this work' but it's not just that, is it? It's proper play, done with love and passion and I'm lucky to do it. Really lucky. Good chat with Rob too, about such things. Always an honour and a pleasure. 

Daniel upside down (Scorpion)

There are not enough words to thank Lilley and Daniel for feeding me on so many levels. They have given me an eerie to live in, with a lovely bed and lots of books about yoga. They feed me power drinks and seeds and weirdy porridge with spawny bits in it and I'm healthier than I've been in years, possibly ever. They feed me with conversation - each of them and both of them. They make me think and they inspire me and they say things nobody else has said, but which make perfect sense. 

Wedding yoga brilliance

They feed me with their love and respect for each other, with their integrity and with the way they wear their values like a beloved coat; because it's the only thing to go out in; because it's the think that keeps them dry and warm when it's blowy out. I wouldn't be surprised if they started a trend, but that's not the point. 


 Thanks for a lovely couple of yoga classes with Fran at Lilley's school (Peacock Tree Yoga) and for being allowed to lead the relaxations. I loved it. I felt tired and a little bit spent today when I got home. I didn't know if I really had the energy to go out and be part of two yoga sessions, but I'm so grateful that I did. 

Today was fab. It was full of admirable people. It was well worth doing. 

Day 371: Dulcimer

What a lot to be grateful for, on planes you can’t even imagine.

I spent the weekend with some wonderful people. We sat. We lay down. We danced. We sang. We meditated, in various ways. We listened to music that got right into our bones and souls. I heard the Dalai Lama sing Om Tryambakam and my world was changed.*

http://tinyurl.com/36dhccz

I discovered the name of this creature: hammer dulcimer. What a sound this makes, and how grateful I am to the musicians who made all that magic happen.

And of course to the little dog that joined us throughout the weekend. She was a delight – very cute, a tiny bit stinky (but in a pleasing dog way) and a rich source of joy. And we were so very well looked after – so very lovingly cared for.

Thank you for the skillful, determined driving, Daniel. We were all tired and you persevered for us. And for your hat. Your hat is just too good.

Finally, thank you for this owlish sanctuary. It is so deeply appreciated. So very deeply. Bedtime!

* Turns out it maybe wasn’t the Dalai Lama, but whoever it was, it’s very beautiful and deep. Like actually deep, octave-wise. Deep voices blow my mind. 

Day 370: Happily Fickle

I wanted to retire this site, but I've been aching to blog. There is so much to be grateful for and I am filled with it every day. I spend my days thinking 'if I was blogging, I'd be able to mention this...'. 

And I miss my gratitude practice. It makes such a happy difference to what I do and say and feel and to where my attention goes. That's not to say that my attention plummets to the greyest of lows when I'm not doing it, but gratitude magnifies the small things that make me happy and gives them weight. Not weight - they're still light. Clout? Kudos? Vim? All these words are delightfully wrong, which brings me to my next point:

I miss writing every day, or if not every day, then most days. I love it. My fingers love it as much as my mind. I love it with my heart. It's another form of play. Do I like these two words alongside each other? Does that word make the other one look small, or does it frame it and bring out its best colours? Is it pleasing to me? Am I a little bit delighted by what I'm doing? This is quite detached from its objective quality - it's to do with the enjoyment of the process and its product equally.

So, in delightfully inefficient form, I'm writing this post to say that I'll probably start writing posts again, when I want to, when it pleases me. Even if it pleases me this weekend, I'm away and computerless, so I won't write then. I'll be thinking about it, though. You can bet on that.

Neither Lilley nor Daniel. Good, though.

In the meantime, I'm soooooo sooooo sooooo grateful for Lilley and Daniel for having me in their lovely home, for feeding me power drinks and raw porridge with frogspawny seeds in; for helping me stay vegetarian and healthy (I haven't dreamt of steak since Austria, or liver, or even black pudding. I've watched steak being eaten, all raw and bloody like I always used to love it, and I haven't felt the slightest pang). 

Thanks for all the yoga joy - sweaty ashtanga in a Leeds loft, helping out with classes at Peacock Tree and with Yoga Bunnies and Yoga for Teens, private pranayama with a tinge of sweet nostalgia and a nice, straight back. Such lovely people in my life, new and old, and all over everywhere. 


There are too many things. I need to be up all crackish again tomorrow, so my words are numbered and my minutes too. Hello, though. Welcome back (?) I've missed you.