Riot and Frolic

I started meditating.  

It's surprisingly hard.

But I'm letting that go.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

I don't meditate like that, btw.  

There's no "ooommm"-ing.  

Not that there's anything wrong with that.  

I just like the silent kind of meditation.  

It's a nice way to start, or end, the day: the silence and the non-thinking.  I didn't do it yesterday morning and, though it might be a coincidence, YESTERDAY SUCKED.  

Lesson learned: sit on your ass in the morning and zone out.

On a totally related note: cut your damn toenails.

It is very hard to create a Zen-like atmosphere in your head while running on a treadmill when the sensation that your shoe is filling with blood keeps creeping in.

"Wwwwwwwwhhhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyy wooooooooooooould mmmmmmmmmmmmyyyyyyy sssssssooooooooock beeeeeeeeeeee waaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmm annnnnnnnnnnd mmmmmmmmmmmoist?" I chant in my head as I bob along on the treadmill. 

I'll tell you why.  

Because I hadn't cut my toenails in… too long.  

[Gah.  Feet are gross, even when they're pretty.]

[Those could never be my toenails.  They look lovely, but would be jabbing through my running shoes or into the hardwood floor when I'm dancing.]

After my run, I take off my sock to discover a not-very-long, yet very sharp toenail had been gouging at its neighbor's toe flesh.  Not nice, little toenail.  

Despite my good intentions to cut it when I got home, I forgot.

Then I wore thick, warm socks to the studio, put my teaching shoes on, and remembered all over again. 

I self-pedicured that night.  

My second toe is healing nicely, thank you for asking.

I think I'm going to ask Siri to set a weekly reminder.

"Siri, remind me to cut my toenails."

Totally necessary.

One year ago: LLLL.