The instruction came as I lay in yoga class this morning. Lie under a tree. I gather Allies; red checkered cloth , neck pillow, Ondaatje novel I'm reading and a book about walking, standing, sitting and lying down (finally after months of it just hanging out over there somewhere in the dining room), and my notebook. I get a salad from Noodles & Co. and imagine a coffee later from that little Country Store at Chautauqua Park. That's where I 'see' all this happening, this restingrestingresting after book is published and retirement has begun.

I am in retrograde. I am waiting, listening, allowing, wondering, hoping to keep the little monster thoughts from taking over. I so miss kinesthetic acruity.