It's Not All Bliss

I went away for a few days, which extended to a week.  Drove home yesterday and am shattered.  I should have followed my instinct to just cancel chair yoga, but I didn’t.  Also, dashed out thinking the session started at 10am.  It was 10.30.  So annoying.  I thought I had escaped that stopwatch of clock-watched living.  The Vinery are great at giving cups of tea though, so I had one until I couldn’t stand the noise anymore, and went outside to sit with my back to the sun, and closed my eyes. 

Blackbirds. 

Tractor. 

Breeze in the trees,

Sounds like the sea. 

A man was there, about my age, maybe younger, with a hard life.  When I was sitting, he asked me, ‘Did you find the yoga darlin’?’  Now I’m not clear why I hate men I don’t know calling me ‘darling’, but I hate it.  Then he said something else, also ‘darlin’.  Then again, ‘darlin’.  My instinctual voice whispered, just ask, ‘Please don’t call me that’, but you don’t, do you, when you’re waiting for yoga and a sound bath. 

Instead, I closed my eyes. 

Let nature in. 

To keep ‘darlin’ out.

The yoga teacher arrived, we set up outside.  Lovely.  She’d just started when ‘darlin’ came along and he asked me, ‘Do you want a cup of tea darlin’?’  I snapped at him, ‘Stop calling me that, I don’t like it’. 

It’s a buzz kill for all concerned. 

Not following your instincts. 

I thought, I’ll apologise for snapping at the end, but then he started talking about his course to be a shaman. 

We each travel hopefully along our path, searching for the Divine. 

At the end of the yoga session, she played music that I found to be deep shamanic medicine. 

Following my instincts, I left early.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3_1Wq0snhYk