Day 409: Every Moment Is Different

grossed myself out with this picture search
- this image is relatively tame

The warmth and loveliness of people made yesterday a very good thing. I did something that I've been waiting to do for a very long time, and in the more immediate sense, since Monday. Yesterday, it was done. It wasn't very nice, but now it's over, like having a rotten tooth pulled out. It's gone now. Not in my head any more. In the bin (or in one of those human waste disposal bag thingies). My gratitude is deep. 

joy

The evening held much tastier fare. An evening workshop with the LSE impro troupe. There were only four people when we got there, so we hijacked the beginners' group that was going on in another room, just to make up the numbers (thank you, Tim, for your patience). I'm so glad we did. We had a lovely time, working on character and storytelling and generally good playing. It was great fun and it sounds like I get to go back and play some more with them. Good. I'm full of ideas already. 

tiny curveball

A tiny curveball as I arrived back after wonderful Archway Road. My poor bike struggled, its chain all dry and brown and tired from living outside Euston station for four days. Managed that hill fine, though, despite slippy gears and a few crunchy complaints. Worth not doing this blog to make time to catch up with Ruth. Good, wise, generous. 

It's easy to be mindful of the things that aren't as we want them to be and to build stories around them - nets of entitlement and indignation. A little breath, a little focus, a little coming back to centre and a calmer reality of now can settle in. I'm learning this. It's a journey that never has an end. Better keep walking.