During tai chi today, a bee landed on my foot. Twice. Maybe it was the same bee, maybe it was two different bees. Either way, stillness and calm became the order of the day. I also had a mosquito land in my ear, which I stopped the tai chi for in order to crush. God, I hate that feeling of a bug in my ear.
I was talking with My Lady yesterday and she noted that she’s stopped reading these posts, because she feels as though I’ve run out of things to say. I said I wanted to keep writing them because they were a key tool for me to say, “look, I’m still doing the work and it’s still important to me.” But this morning, I found it easy to do the work, and I found it hard to do the writing. In fact, this “editing window” has now been open for more than an hour while I try to think about what to say. Which is challenging, to say the least.
Underlying all of this is that I’ve got a process, which I’ve not yet shown the courage to follow through on. I did it today, but I didn’t do it yesterday or the day before. And I might do it tomorrow, but maybe not. It’s this: for every posture, every movement, I try to do a four-breath count. It slows my movements down, it provides me with the right speed, and the right attention to detail.
But I just haven’t crossed that boundary yet, permanently, and it feels like I’m going to have to write daily until that comes to be true.