Like I mentioned in my post the other day, I am participating in a test panel for the "Art of Stopping Time". It's a series of gongs/tasks to get back wasted time and concentrate on yourself. I'm a skeptic, not the least bit spiritual, but who knows. Yesterday was the video conference call. I need to watch the beginning because I had no sound. (Okay, I didn't know how to use Facebook live.) The author used to be a monk.
I was immediately brought back to my youth.
Back in high school and the hippie movement, Transcendental Meditation was hot. Even the Beatles did it. There was a house at Fiot and Itaska that had meetings. There was a picture of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi out front. I used to joke about it.
Today I went to a workshop for "Mindfulness" at a yoga studio in a corporate office building. It was run by Prabha Sinha, the same person who leads as "yoga under the stars". Guess what? It was meditation. It's been 50 years since the "summer of love" and everything is apparently coming full circle. Too bad I'm not as thin and agile that I was back in the day.
I can't clear my mind. Meditation is just out of my tool box. I was quiet for a half-hour. But my brain wasn't. And my feet weren't. I kept moving my hands and my legs. I kind of felt like I was at a Quaker meeting. Silence, for me, is deafening.
Also today I did my first gong for the test panel.
Tonight is exercise in the park. Angel and the teen came. It was nice to have a friendly face there. And they kicked my butt.
Class was odd. Coach Sweat ran it. To this point it's always been the women. I think Coach Sweat is a trainee. He didn't show us the beginner, intermediate, advanced moves that I cherish so much. We went for hard core. And got precious few rest periods. After the halfway "run", mutiny broke out and some wise-ass said we should design the workout. Coach Tiffany thought that was a fine idea. And we did. It was Hell. My knees won't work tomorrow there were so many squats. And I only do demi - pilets.
The teen wants to come again and again. Next time she won't bring the world's smallest water bottle. She had to refill at the fountain.
Meditation in the morning. Exercise in the park at night. Talk about extremes. And to round it out I also walked on Stefko Blvd area. Exercise wise, it's a short day.
Miles/Steps: 3 between the hike and the playground
Bathrooms: None used
Wildlife: a beautiful huge moth and an imperial butterfly
Weather: Sunny, hot, upper-80s as I leave for the park, humid
Extras: I always thought Coach Sweat's role was to be eye candy. He needs to be in Essence. He kept his shirt on tonight, so Angel didn't get the full experience.
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