The Last Kiss = puke. Okay "puke" is a little harsh, but for real it was passable at best. I should be able to, with some aplomb, articulate exactly *what* made it so poor. Unfortunately I can offer nothing more than a big yawn. Oh, and that whining bugs.
This morning I taught gentle yoga. Admittedly, I have a skewed, okay warped, definition of gentle. But they were total troopers and stuck it out -- nary taking child's pose when it wasn't called. I think I love teaching gentle yoga so much because it attracts a lot of beginners and beginners are the best students. I am always inspired by their willingness, their openness, the absence of expectation -- you know, all the things I forget when I'm the student. Speaking of which it's been a week since I've practiced. I get on my mat but a real honest-to-goodness practice? Well I know it's been too long when my skin is crawling to bust into down dog while teaching.
You know how when you get an idea and you can't quite see the entire thing yet -- it's still just a spark? And then you let it sort of germinate because you can't force inspiration and you know that the pieces will reveal themselves as they're ready? And yet you're excited, and you want it now even though you know that everything, EVERYTHING has its perfect time? And so you put that idea in your pocket, and go about your life, but it's like a new romance where you carry that last exchange with you to tide you over until you get just a little more? Well that's really cool.
The Course says something about whenever you're not wholly joyous you know something's up. I think it's a little more eloquent than that, but the sentiment is the same. Well this is a good reminder because sometimes the big emotions -- the sad ones, the drama ones can feel imposed. And they're not.