June seems to be the month that readership falls off a cliff around here. It usually picks up again in July, but a lot of you have gone away. First of all, happy Solstice. Second of all, Joyous St. John’s Day. And third, happy Father’s Day. It’s nice when they all coincide like that.
First, some interesting stories. John Michael Greer’s column at the Well of Galabes, What Magic Can’t Do, is great reading on a day of magic and mystery. And tai chi this morning was wonderful, followed by a great brunch out with my mom and dad, and some lovely time together telling stories from Boing Boing: notably how I found out about Stingrays and Daniel Rigmaiden. Some beautiful storytelling in both these stories, although obviously not on the same subject.
Tai chi today. Happened early, and to the sound of heavy rain outside. It woke my dad, which immediately triggered all the usual Father’s Day activities: brunch out at his favorite breakfast place, coffee and conversation, reflection from my parents on why I tell stories and communicate information which is so very different than all of their friends (I’m 35 years younger and get my news from the internet rather than newspapers and TV), and the decision — since it was raining — to accept an invitation to the movies with old friends. Then it cleared up, and even though we’ll go see the new Pixar movie, I think my mother and I would prefer to be in our kayaks. C’est la vie.
The practice was fine. I did three iterations, each one a little slower; and I’d say I got in fifteen minutes of tai chi. I also did a walk around the neighborhood I used to bike as a young hellion-wanna-be in the suburbs, riding with friends that I haven’t seen in ages. I feel like these sorts of walks replenish air deep in my lungs and build up my chi and gong reserves in completely different ways. I have to walk more regularly; it turns out that there’s a group in my hometown that’s working on building up endurance for long-distance walks of 20 and 50 miles. I like that idea.