Return to Hogwarts

...January hit like a giant hunk of ice in the forehead...days of severe lassitude...not much work but that little bit took all day...endlessly seeking minor forms of stimulation, trying and often failing to avoid the ones that make things worse in the long run...

...this morning, dragged myself out early through a brushing of snow, drove five hours north to Kripalu, for the first time since the yoga teacher training two years ago...where I'm gonna spend the week in a meditation retreat with Jack Kornfield...Meditation for Freedom and Compassion Everywhere...(should definitely work better than meditating to right-wing talk radio to teach myself to be less compassionate...in line with my reverse-Boddhisattva vow not to attain full enlightenment until all sentient beings in the universe are as miserable as I am)...(just kidding)...

...hugged some old friends, mindfully chowed down the healthiest lunch I've had in a long time, took a walk in the woods, went to yoga class, had the healthiest dinner I've had in a long time, went to the first meditation retreat session...where they urged me to turn off the electronic devices and be silent for the week...oops...felt like I had a minor yet satisfying psychedelic experience, took a walk down to the beach in the dark to look at the stars while listening to Miles Davis In a Silent Way on the purple ipod...oops, again...maybe gotta wean myself a bit...

...now, it's almost 11:00 and I got yoga class to go to at 6:15 in the morning...oh yeah...

Walt Whitman, as it turns out, was right as usual...(Notes from Hogwarts #2)

Politicians, ugly buildings, and whores all get respectable if they last long enough.
John Huston, Chinatown

...reached the mid-point of my 40’s at some point Friday morning...you’d have to ask my mom for the exact timing...and, thankfully, the first person I told that gave me a hug and said congratulations...

...in the second day of the teacher training, they told us our main purpose wasn’t learning, but unlearning...and I thought my god, it’s probably about time I did that...

O my Body! I dare not desert the likes of you in other men and women, nor the likes of the parts of you;
I believe the likes of you are to stand or fall with the likes of the Soul, (and that they are the Soul;)
I believe the likes of you shall stand or fall with my poems—and that they are poems,
Man’s, woman’s, child’s, youth’s, wife’s, husband’s, mother’s, father’s, young man’s, young woman’s poems...
Walt Whitman, I Sing the Body Electric

...the teen years were a fucking nightmare...20’s had some high points...pun intended, somewhat...30’s were boring, mostly...which was a good thing...

...now, here...at 45...I crackle with energy...

*broadcasting live from the coffee shop, Kripalu Center, Cloud Hidden, Wherabouts Unknown, USA*