Subir la Temperatura
Posted: September 24, 2013 Filed under: Random Workout | Tags: Chamomile, cycling, exercise, family, FitBit, fitness, free range, Freinds, freshly pressed, gluten free, happiness, health, hipster, hope, kindness, life, love, lululemon, marathon, meditation, motivation, musings, natural, nature, nebraska, Omaha, passion, perspective, pilates, Poetry, relationships, running, sex, Stevia, Temptation, trail running, WOD, writing, writting, yoga 7 CommentsWhat 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!
Child on Top of a Greenhouse
Posted: September 19, 2013 Filed under: Random Workout | Tags: blogging, compassion, family, friends, gardening, happiness, health, kindness, life, love, nature, Poem, Poetry, Prose, Theodore Roethke, writing, yoga 5 Comments…
The wind billowing out the seat of my britches,
My feet crackling splinters of glass and dried putty,
The half-grown chrysanthemums staring up like accusers,
Up through the streaked glass, flashing with sunlight,
A few white clouds all rushing eastward,
A line of elms plunging and tossing like horses,
And everyone, everyone pointing up and shouting!
Bad Day
Posted: September 13, 2013 Filed under: Random Workout | Tags: Bad Day, blogging, compassion, Creative Writing, cycling, fitness, freshly pressed, friends, gluten free, happiness, health, hipster, hope, Kay Ryan, kindness, life, love, lululemon, meditation, motivation, musings, natural, nature, Omaha, paleo, passion, perspective, pilates, Poem, Poetry, Prose, recovery, trail running, weekend, whole foods, WOD, writing, writting, yoga 11 Comments…
Not every day
is a good day
for the elfin tailor.
Some days
the stolen cloth
reveals what it
was made for:
a handsome weskit
or the jerkin
of an elfin sailor.
Other days
the tailor
sees a jacket
in his mind
and sets about
to find the fabric.
But some days
neither the idea
nor the material
presents itself;
and these are
the hard days
for the tailor elf.
– Kay Ryan
Notes:
“Things“will get back to normal around here this coming Monday. Until then, be well and have an amazing weekend!
Machines
Posted: September 12, 2013 Filed under: Random Workout | Tags: Bicycle, bikes, blogging, College, compassion, Creativity, cycling, Ethics, exercise, faith, family, fitness, free range, freshly pressed, happiness, health, inspiration, life, love, lululemon, Machines, marathon, meditation, Michael Donaghy, motivation, musings, natural, nature, Omaha, perspective, Poem, Poetry, Prose, reading, running, simplicity, whole foods, WOD, yoga 2 Comments…
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.
Green Canoe
Posted: September 11, 2013 Filed under: Random Workout | Tags: blogging, Canoe, compassion, cycling, fitness, free range, freshly pressed, friends, happiness, health, hope, Jeffrey Harrison, kindness, life, love, lululemon, meditation, motivation, musings, natural, nature, Omaha, outdoors, passion, perspective, Poem, Poetry, Prose, running, simplicity, trail running, walking, whole foods, yoga 4 Comments…
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.
CultFit 