Be Love
I passed on the bottomless mimosas Sunday, wanting to get more work done. Made it to 4pm Bikram and felt like a Sunday this simple was enough. Phone rang, friend came over, and we tried to make plans. Finally she said, "just get ready and we will walk to wherever we are supposed to be."
We ended up down the hill, and I ordered a margarita on the rocks, it was made well and with a smile from the bartender I had never seen there before. My friend insisted, "he used to be the doorman!" We asked if the 33 bus stopped out front and confirmed it did.
One, then two bus passed us by and we finally made it onto the third. I asked the bus driver if he stopped near where we were going and he said, "yes, I will call the stop for you honey."
The night was warm and by the time we walked into the Dub Mission it was glowing. We got our drinks and found an open table.
We ran into familiar faces and caught up. Made new friends, danced, and danced, and danced with our new friends.
The next day I learned that yoga later in the day, along with a few strong drinks from the very cute bartender, lots of dancing, and little sleep- makes for a less than productive Monday.
Skipped Monday yoga, then got to work on the next days lecture: Tuesday's presentation was flawless.
We toasted a job well done and then we tried to figure out when we first made our way to our favorite Sunday night spot. Just retelling all the stories was amusing enough. Realizing we were both a bit of club, rave, dj, international dance scene refugees, was a sign of growth.
Back at 9am Bikram this morning, I was lightheaded before the next savasana marking the end of the second to last series. Wimpy or not I decided I had to take a break from the 105 degree room.
Debated not going back in, but one pose later I returned. Through my head kept running the thoughts that I was sweating out the drinks from Sunday night, or that I should have had a little sugar before the class, even thought it would be my last class with the overly rigorous instructor.
Then something happened, at the end of class, after it was over I smiled. I was pleased. As I stepped into the sun filled day, I just loved this feeling of being.
(tres Paris, je t'aime )
We ended up down the hill, and I ordered a margarita on the rocks, it was made well and with a smile from the bartender I had never seen there before. My friend insisted, "he used to be the doorman!" We asked if the 33 bus stopped out front and confirmed it did.
One, then two bus passed us by and we finally made it onto the third. I asked the bus driver if he stopped near where we were going and he said, "yes, I will call the stop for you honey."
The night was warm and by the time we walked into the Dub Mission it was glowing. We got our drinks and found an open table.
We ran into familiar faces and caught up. Made new friends, danced, and danced, and danced with our new friends.
The next day I learned that yoga later in the day, along with a few strong drinks from the very cute bartender, lots of dancing, and little sleep- makes for a less than productive Monday.
Skipped Monday yoga, then got to work on the next days lecture: Tuesday's presentation was flawless.
We toasted a job well done and then we tried to figure out when we first made our way to our favorite Sunday night spot. Just retelling all the stories was amusing enough. Realizing we were both a bit of club, rave, dj, international dance scene refugees, was a sign of growth.
Back at 9am Bikram this morning, I was lightheaded before the next savasana marking the end of the second to last series. Wimpy or not I decided I had to take a break from the 105 degree room.
Debated not going back in, but one pose later I returned. Through my head kept running the thoughts that I was sweating out the drinks from Sunday night, or that I should have had a little sugar before the class, even thought it would be my last class with the overly rigorous instructor.
Then something happened, at the end of class, after it was over I smiled. I was pleased. As I stepped into the sun filled day, I just loved this feeling of being.
(tres Paris, je t'aime )
posted by Lorena | 1:26 PM
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