The Solitude of Night

It was at a wine party—
I lay in a drowse, knowing it not.
The blown flowers fell and filled my lap.
When I arose, still drunken,
The birds had all gone to their nests,
And there remained but few of my comrades.
I went along the river—alone in the moonlight.

Li Po

CultFit Quiet


Subir la Temperatura

What the hell. The heart wants what the heart wants, right?-

The posts for the remainder of the year (for the most part) will be personal in nature, so please forgive the self-involvement in advance. I have worked extremely hard to omit painful personal stories from this blog-o-thing.

Every Fall, I like to engage in two very different sorts of bike rides (I’m into the cycling thing now although I do this with yoga almost every week during the year)—one with a group of good friends, and one alone, myself. These rides don’t have to be real long or strenuous, just long enough to get a clean break from the rigors of my day-to-day life. These moments of serenity each provide me with two very different experiences, and I intimately love both of them.

Although it’s the long free-flowing ride that I take by myself that gives me the time to reflect on where I am at (not lost in a cornfield …) and where I will be going.

This alone time affords me the luxury of taking as much time as I need to relax into a smooth rhythm, to delve deeper into the love that we are often too busy to enjoy and savor. Sleeping in late, enjoying a cup of chamomile tea – “A touch of soy milk and Stevia please.” Hanging out with no agenda, no races, no race prep, no FitBit trackers, no cell phones Zero responsibilities, it’s as close to heaven as I can get in Nebraska.

We – You included – Have forgotten that there isn’t anything more important than taking time to restore our health, our spirit and mind(s). To reawaken and indulge our enjoyment of deep pleasure (re-read this post again later and preface it with the imagery of love, sex and passion … ), and to retreat into the sweet environment that supports the growth of our true selves.

When we stop being curious about who we really are and start thinking that we already “know” whatever, our intrinsic motivation to be curious, attentive, and engaged – weakens and slowly withers away into nothingness. Slaves to what is to be expected of us.

Notes:

What am I writing about this morning? Love, relationships, riding a bike, sex, yoga Cool Fall evenings are tailored for our “delight“. Be well today and enjoy!

CultFit Path


(W)ill

Hard to say what’s right when all I wanna do is wrong-

Who doesn’t like planning? Planning workouts for the week, running events for the coming month, yoga class flow, playlist for cardio kick boxing class. It should come as no surprise to hear that “planning” is generally a good “thing” to do

This is the point in our lovely post this evening when I tell you that all our grandiose plans are pretty much useless.

How so?” Most of our plans and goals are not structured in a way that makes them effective if life, “things” go sideways for a spell.

If and Will plans, on the other hand, I have found to be extremely effective to staying the course and making them is an extremely empowering tool to helping you achieve your goal(s).

The trick is deciding well in advance when and where you will the take steps to achieving your goal. Quick example: “If I am falling behind on my training, I Will choose to schedule the  time to train.”

Notes:

When it comes to reaching your goals, because you will reach them – avoiding temptation is critical, focusing on replacing bad habits with good ones, rather than focusing only on the bad habits themselves is vitally important.

Ask yourself the next time things start to go sideways, What will I do to get back on track!?!

CultFit Good Plan


Machines

Dearest, note how these two are alike;
This harpsichord pavane by Purcell
And the racer’s twelve-speed bike.

The machinery of grace is always simple.
This chrome trapezoid, one wheel connected
To another of concentric gears,
Which Ptolemy dreamt of and Schwinn perfected,
Is gone. The cyclist, not the cycle, steers.
And in the playing, Purcell’s chords are played away.

So this talk, or touch if I were there,
Should work its effortless gadgetry of love,
Like Dante’s heaven, and melt into the air.

If it doesn’t, of course, I’ve fallen. So much is chance,
So much agility, desire, and feverish care,
As bicyclists and harpsicordists prove

Who only by moving can balance,
Only by balancing move.

Michael Donaghy

CultFit Serene


Green Canoe

I don’t often get the chance any longer
to go out alone in the green canoe
and, lying in the bottom of the boat,
just drift where the breeze takes me,
down to the other end of the lake
or into some cove without my knowing
because I can’t see anything over
the gunwales but sky as I lie there,
feeling the ribs of the boat as my own,
this floating pod with a body inside it …

also a mind, that drifts among clouds
and the sounds that carry over water—
a flutter of birdsong, a screen door
slamming shut—as well as the usual stuff
that clutters it, but slowed down, opened up,
like the fluff of milkweed tugged
from its husk and floating over the lake,
to be mistaken for mayflies at dusk
by feeding trout, or be carried away
to a place where the seeds might sprout.

Jeffrey Harrison

CultFit Alone