Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Be Still and Still Moving

Our world is fast, crazy, sporadic jolts of information, noise, and beauty. I translate one language to another instantly, breathlessly.  Deciphering email, to google, to letters, excel, to human to heart. How does the mind keep up?

Sometimes when it's quiet there is a part of me inside that echoes "you were made for this."  For the stillness.  I was not made for the noisy, clamorous, clanging world.   Often what is seen as my dramatic reactions to loud noises is actually my inner musician proclaiming to the world to turn off the bass drum.

T.S. Eliot touches on this in his poem East Coker part V.

Here and there does not matter
We must be still and still moving <---(He really gets it right here)
Into another intensity
For a further union, a deeper communion 
"We must be still and still moving."
TS (I'm taking a chance calling him that) perfectly describes that dichotomy of  life.  I must be able to carry that quiet, content peace with me as I'm moving, juggling, and seeking in this often cacophonous, slightly out-of-tune symphony directed by Life. Again...

This practice of being still and still moving is probably one of my life's works in progress.   To walk in a way that wherever I go I'm still inside.  Just think about what that really means.  To not be shaken?  To have contentment beyond what you see? How do you remain still inside amongst such a loud world?  I find hope in that as I become better at being still the world will become just another instrument for me to harmonize with.

...interesting enough the bible talks in detail about being still and knowing that He is God.  Sounds like humans have been working at and pondering this for ages.

Friday, October 15, 2010


The Mr. and I have recently discovered the art of spinning.  No, not spinning in circles from our busy schedule, but spinning as in cycling.

Prior to the last few weeks, spin class always seemed  to be that intimidating beast that hides in the dark cave of the gym.  A place where only real warriors with courage would go to slay the dragon.  But one day, the Mr. spotted that little entry on the gym calendar "Spin Class" and beckoned for us to venture into this land of the unknown.  Gathering up courage and gusto, with a cute pair of running shorts we wandered into this new territory.

Ever since then, we've been teasing our athletic appetites with this class.  We've found gears we didn't know existed and a gazillion ways to hold the handlebars.  And above all else, we found we actually liked it. Averaging between 15 - 25 miles per class, spin requires our focus, balance, and use of a whole lot of leg and will power. Slowly but surely we caught on, despite that we didn't wear the spandex and probably never will.

As tired as we feel after class, we keep going back for more.  Endlessly spinning our legs in circles, until they feel as if they are about to fall off. We quickly forget about the agony of the 5 minute sprints and stare at the neon calendar hanging on the fridge looking for the next class we can make.

There in the darker cave of the gym, I adjust my seats and handlebars and hop on the bike ready to take on another personal challenge.  I warm up early.  The Mr. arriving a few minutes later makes a game out of trying to catch up to my mileage.  Even though his legs are twice the length of mine, I still got game.  My body aches, but it's the kind of ache that lets you know you've worked. You've finished.  And that dinner is a well earned prize at the end of the night. 

And while I may not be going into any dark caves to slay dragons anytime soon, I know that spin class is a monster I have strength to overcome.

As the class comes to an end and we fall off our bikes and take our spaghetti legs home, I'm reminded and thankful  I have someone to share the rewarding homemade meal with as well as the personal victory.

We are mad spinners.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Thinking About...

Lately I've been day dreaming about...

The quote from Alice in Wonderland

“There is no use trying, said Alice; one can't believe impossible things. I dare say you haven't had much practice, said the Queen. When I was your age, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”

We have to imagine the impossible

The changing Fall leaves and the beauty around us.

What Central Park will look like in November...