Livin' In Your Own Private Apocalypse

When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.
Haruki Murakami

…2012 less than a month old, I’m starting to suspect the Mayans may’ve been right...but, apparently, they were just talking about me…

…have written up a couple of different versions of a post with this title...(apologies to the B-52's as well as John the Revelator)…decided the first was too dark, personal, and downright depressing…so, a week or so later, re-did it…before rapidly deciding the second version was also too dark, personal, and downright depressing…

…so, perhaps, it’s just as well my hard drive went kablooey earlier this afternoon...after yin yoga class and the Sunday morning meditation group....taking with it those attempted posts and some personal writing too miserable to even be considered for this merry-if-sometimes-mildly-sardonic blog...if not the thoughts and feelings that inspired them, though it does feel just a bit like an expensive and unexpected cleaning of the slate...along with, apart from some handwritten notes, most of the work done on a project I was hoping to complete this weekend, which I’m gonna be really busy re-doing for the next couple days...which, at least, makes me a bit grateful I haven’t been all that productive in the past few weeks since last backing up files...

...even seasonal depression, apparently, has its uses...keeping the best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men modest...as well as providing an excuse to support my local Girl Scouts and scarf down an entire box of Thin Mints...

...and, who knows...maybe we could all use a little apocalypse now and then...

Fallen Angels, Fallen Leaves

...had a series of dreams in which I was trying to get into or out of L.A...which is weird since, though I’ve been there a few times, it’s not a city I’ve ever felt much connection to...except through movies and T.V....and Joni Mitchell singing so evocatively about the city of the fallen angels, with its specific dance of dreams and disillusionment, opportunity and loss, sunny skies and air pollution....and, now thatcha mention it, Mr. Dreams, that might just be where I am right now...

...started teaching yoga semi-regularly at a shelter for homeless families....the first time, last week, thought I was just sitting in, checking out the scene, until the teacher introduced me...said this is Jay; he’ll be teaching with me tonight, and I thought okay......this week, a lot of noise was coming down the hall at the beginning of class, and one of the students said we can’t do yoga with all that noise....I said, actually, yes we can, that learning to be still with all the noise and chaos around us is part of the practice...


...as it turned out there were also a bunch of people in the room, who weren’t practicing yoga...it’s a busy shelter, and I guess there aren’t a lot of spaces to hang out....I kept having to avoid bumping into a woman reading a magazine, sitting on a couch just behind my mat while I was teaching...and remind myself, this, too, is part of the practice...