I missed a day writing to you.
I was busy.
I’d like to say I was off doing something fabulous, from I was volunteering at a children’s hospital to I was at a fancy party where I wore shoes! But no. Sometimes it feels like days just snowball, and suddenly it’s five o’clock and you haven’t eaten anything all day but a baked potato you devoured whole in the car like an animal (yup) and you look at the clock and can’t believe it’s that late already. You just can’t.
…I recently took a yoga class next to a girl I went to high school with, how life is so funny like that. People you think you’re never going to see again turn up fifteen years later at a yoga class, kindly scooting over her mat for you to make room when you get there late, of course. I’m about to start reading a book called “An Invisible Thread.” Sometimes I think there has to be a reason why some people pop in your life. I’m excited to think about this invisible thread. Sometimes, I think I think too much.
Anyway, there she was, standing on her head.
She flopped over but did so so quickly and quietly, I felt obligated to bridge the gap of fifteen years and whisper over to her that she was like a ninja--and mean that in the best possible way.
I was able to speak freely because I had no desire to stand on my head. I was comfortably curled up in rest position, in “child’s pose.” From the corner of my eye I watched her. UP! Down. UP! Down. Each time she fell she would roll right back onto the crown of her head again, clasp the dome with her palms, and start over. She kept trying and trying. It really was admirable to watch her try for this goal…
I made note to ask if she read Anna Quindlen’s “Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake” where she discusses in the opening essay her wish and eventual accomplishment of doing a head stand, but after class the teacher scolded us for talking because there was a mediation going on. (“Oops, I mean, oooooommm...”)
So there I was back in yoga yesterday, the beginning of that marathon day.
I had no idea what the day would hold for me.
I had no idea I wouldn’t be getting back from that 9:30 a.m. class until six that night and start making baked ziti.
I had no desire to do a head stand, I didn’t even know I could do one, but suddenly, there I was, standing on my head.
And something about being upside down felt really right.
And I think that’s how some days just go, which is hard for us planners and thinkers, you know? There goes life, keeping us guessing, keeping us on our toes, or rather with them pointed up to the sky like arrows.