Visited the Land of My People today in search of a used Suburu, driving around in a borrowed car that was leaking oil like a stuck pig.
We stopped for breakfast in Wayne. The primordial bliss of home flooded my soul: blocky little brown-brick diner, birds a-twitter in the lush greenery of the parking lot, reading The Bergen Record over hashbrowns. Ah!
We finally found a car to our liking at a used-car lot in Bedford Hills, NY. The salesman was a somber, German-accented man with obvious intelligence who seemed the antithesis of a used-car hawker. I sensed a scientific mind--maybe he's a physicist who had to go into the used-car business to make his child-support payments or summat.
Last night I had a nice little "opening" experience. I was getting ready to leave for my Tuesday night class, and thought I'd just sit for a minute and breath deeply. I don't know what it was, but those five minutes of breathing were the most focussed, alive, and connected I felt all day. I take yoga classes nearly daily, but it's not often that I truly experience union. I took that aliveness into my class with me, and I made a wee break-through in teaching. I didn't plan ahead, I let the class take shape in the moment, and it felt like I was transmitting more than just verbal intstruction. It was satisfying, and afterwards, as people wer leaving and saying their nice "goodbyes" and "thank yous," I felt like I could look 'em straight in the eye and say "You're welcome," without feeling bashful or unworthy.
Well, I refused to vote for him, but I do so admire his ways...
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