During a kundalini workshop yesterday it came to me that in order to work off some negative energy, I ought to 1) get very drunk on vodka after the workshop and then 2) fast today on lemon juice, honey and cayenne pepper.
So that is what happened.
I walked through the hushed snowy streets from the yoga center to Freddys, gliding from one world to another. Yesterday I felt quite out of place in the yoga world, and it felt right to be surrounded by my devil-music people.
I'm a little oversaturated by yoga these days. Aside from my own practice and my teaching, I am growing weary of the extra stuff--the new age stuff stenciled over yoga's bare bones. The awful music, the uncritical, unempirical thinking that arrives at things like "chakras" (which I believe are useful as metaphors for certain aspects of being, but entirely mythical as a physical phenomenon) and "auras"...
Alliances are always shifting, aren't they?
|Started reading The Sandcastle by Iris Murdoch. So far so good: an antiquey smelling Penguin paperback I found at East Village Book's dollar bin yesterday. Orleana and Arosistotelia have both read lots o' Murdoch, and encouraged this latest development in my novel-reading.|
The Murdoch novel is splitting time with the heavily-discounted book about NLP that I bought at Barnes & Noble on Friday. Semi-useful.
Monkey and I got a gift certificate to a music store for a wedding present, and yesterday we redeemed it for 2 Boss effects: a TR-2 tremolo pedal, and an OD-3 overdrive unit. New guitar pedals make me play differently and hence write different kinds of songs. I'm looking forward to many new rockin', tremolo-y numbers that the kids will love.
Lazy, lazy post-snowfall, lemon-juice fasting day. Took a hatha class this morning, and then came home and haven't done anything productive since. We're watching The Anniversary Party in installments, which is richer than I anticipated.
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