It’s a cool September morning. I’m so ready for fall to begin. I’m always ready for it. I love the exchange of cooler temperatures for the oppressive summer humidity. My birthday month is coming up, and even though I’m not particularly excited about the date itself, there is always something in the air this time of year that makes me fall in love. It’s a promise of something. Butterflies that keep you on your toes.
The back door is open, cooling the house. I still hear crickets and insects, that not sure what to make of this overcast day; Unsure if it truly is morning or still right before dawn. I hear the light traffic of Bloomfield Avenue and the occasional chirp of a bird as my fingers dance across the keys. I’m downstairs in the kitchen alone. It is quiet. It is divine.
Because I can’t openly type like this when everyone’s awake. I’d never be able to get comfortable. My mind would also be less inclined to give into it’s own observational will. I would be distracted and unsettled.
While the dog and my mom and brother are still upstairs snoozing (as they should) on this cloudy, cool day, my dad just recently left for a yoga studio in Montclair where he’s a karma yogi, as yesterday he accidentally walked away with some cabinet keys in his pocket, and forgot to return them before the studio closed for the night.
We were preliminarily planning on going to a 9:30 class in town. My body feels good from the class I took yesterday, aside from some hip soreness likely due to deeply getting into pigeon pose; There’s so much tightness and emotion I’m holding in there that I have yet to unravel. I can feel it. But I recently decided against going this morning class, as I wasn’t feeling well. Nothing major. Just some mild GI-related discomfort that is already passing. But I didn’t want to chance it. Going into a hot class where the temperature can get up to 105 degrees and not feeling your absolute best going in, is a sure-shot for a miserable experience. I also would feel like I would be rushing to get there. I like to properly hydrate before I go to hot classes – because that is also a miserable experience if you haven’t had enough water beforehand – and when I haven’t, or feel like I’d have to rush it to make it, I try not to push going. I think I’m just excited about my yoga “streak”. I’ve finally gotten back to the hot classes and aside from the fact that that in itself has made me very happy and ecstatic, I’ve been feeling so good afterwards. The reward of breathing and stretching and holding poses makes me feel electric. I’m afraid of stopping – even for a day – for a irrational fear that I’ll fall off the wagon again and have to rebuild my muscle memory all over again.
I’ve made coffee. I’ve been trying to finish up a bag of Irving Farm beans. I have just enough left in the bag for one more cup before the bag is done. As I sip, I realize the cup I made is a little weak, and maybe I should have just finished up the bag, opting for a stronger cup.
Everyday I have things I want to do and feel like I never get to. I find that how I experience my morning is dependent on how the rest of my day will go. I don’t feel tired today, but very laid-back. I don’t want to over-exert myself. Sipping this coffee and typing is really great place for me to be right now. I do have mountains of laundry to put away, records I’ve been meaning to clean. A box of clutter I desperately need to go through. And maybe all of that will get done today. Maybe not.
I also need to go through some mixes Matt has sent me and send him notes in return. I’ll likely do that after this, pending on when my family comes downstairs. I also have been meaning to make a spreadsheet for myself, documenting my recording costs (which I’m slightly afraid to do). I’m not hungry, and have only had some Kombucha and a half ounce of almonds this morning.
..And almost like clockwork my dad has come home at the same time my mom has come down with the dog. Everyone’s mood is bright and buoyant, if not a little sleepy. My writing spell has been broken, and I must move on to make the most of my day. The sun is trying to come out.