The yoga of flowers after the brief drizzle...

Sent the email and then realised I shouldn't. It was a gut response to joyful news and under normal circumstances, it required celebration and joy.
I was shocked at the invitation to join in the good news. It had been years since the friendship ended . I said the truth though in the email.. You are really amazing because it was the truth, friend or not . I should have been polite though.. as memories too of the other note about how the connection is sinful.

Night was disrupted. It should have been restful as work done. Something about stress.. how it delays. Chores and cleaning.. superficial bandaid stuff as even though my instincts are to get rid of the real source of some of the dirt and replace with other things which could create a better environment, reality is not that I am in control as I thought I was.

Trying to figure out when my body lost flexibility, if it was at the same time as I realised that I was not really adapting to the circumstances around me and that the things
Flexibility of the spirit and soul matching flexibility of the body. 
Fixing messes which I am not responsible for but for which there is no question of my obligation to fix and even as I think.. come on man, be creative, work sort this out.. no solution you provide will work and you have to keep doing the same thing over and over again .


A woman who I had begged off of an activity keeps including me in the emails and every one too me is a reminder of failure to use my privilege regardless of the health issues.

The message is there.. other people are worse off than you. Stop whining and do something.

Slight drizzle in the morning and I realise that the bougainvillea is blooming. I see another flower on a weed growing out of the concrete crack.. a weird flower which disappears just after the sun rises. They look nice. I remember a woman who told me how she loves November . She survived a violent relationship and took pride in her garden. November was when her  bougainvillea arches bloomed and she lives in a place without much water.  Another woman who survived an abusive relationship also plants lots of flowers and even when she did not have her own space as she was escaping the marriage, she worked in a community garden and other places.

I keep thinking it would be nice if I plant something too, watch it grow. Other things though I had planted never grew or died. 

Lesson is to detach myself from the desire to see things grow and change. Detach from the desire to change anything and try to regain the flexibility of body at least to survive.