It is 2:45pm on a grey, un-climate-ably* cold day. I folded an undershirt, another undershirt, and inexplicably walked out of the laundry room. I walked into and across the living room, noticing the yoga mat abandoned there an hour and a half before. I paused there, started to roll it up, idly wondering why I hadn’t stayed back in the laundry room to fold the whole stack of shirts, or–better still–not gone into the laundry room in the first place and instead pulled out the materials I need to work through for class tonight. The one I’m leading. At 6pm, a few hours from now.
As I rolled the mat, I thought, I’m out of practice. I thought, that’s a good title for a post. And a true fact about how I’ve been looking at my Real Life ™ lo these past few weeks.
(I miss you, Robert. Last night I was kicking around the kitchen, having finally remembered to start a batch of my default breakfast, sadly wishing that I still had your eyes each morning keeping me accountable. Surely I’d’ve already re-started my writing rhythm if I knew you were still reading?
[Wait. What if you ARE still reading? Oh, snap… <laughs>])
I am out of practice in my practices.
- As you know, the blogging’s been sporadic since December 19th, B’s arrival in the ATX. (She went back to Pgh last Friday, January 12.)
- My prayer and contemplation routine’s been in lurch-and-spurt mode since class let out.
- Poetry writing has had zero rhythm for quite some time, so we’ll just leave that alone. Submission-rhythm trailed into “Last Day, Last Ditch!” as far back as… October? So it, too, could use some practice practice.
- I’ve been on eating-holiday since Thanksgiving, which makes me quintessentially American, though MLK Day is not usually considered part of The Season. Hey, there are still Christmas cookies left, y’know-!
- I did manage to keep exercise in its routine. Pretty much. Except for the past week and change. But given its surrounding landscape, my diligence there has been A-MA-ZING.
Where am I going with this, you ask? Where am I going with this, I ask.
I am going… I am going writing today after all, rather than letting yet another idea-wisp drift out my ear before I grab a keyboard.
I am therefore practicing my writing practice today. It feels rusty, but I can hear Robert patting me on the shoulder through the WordPress comments, the way he has each rusty time before.
Rust comes. But after a while, I spray it with a little solvent, and rub on it with a rag until I get bored.
And come back later. And spray again. And rub again. And the brushed luster returns: satisfying.
It’s good to be practicing again.
* I was going to say, unseasonably, but 30 degree F weather is quite seasonable for winter. In places further north than Austin, TX-!
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