I totally love teaching beginners. There's an earnestness that I'm inspired by and a wonder that makes me remember. They exclaim things like "I can't believe how good I feel!" and "I can feel the openess in my body for days afterwards." I've only been practicing for five years but already my practice is like a marriage where I take for granted all the things I used to be infatuated with since I know I'm in for the long haul. Workshops are like my version of dates and I flirt with running on the side just to remind me how good I've got it.
Patricia and I went running this evening at the ocean. Recently I have laid off the 4th street stairs, and in large part running, b/c I've been doing more yoga. The run was nice, but the stairs wanted to make sure I'd remember them for weeks to come. I'm going to have to scratch those mugs from my little black book.
Have I mentioned in a while that I will never live on the first floor again? What's that? It's been at least a week, you say? Excellent. I will never live on the first floor again. Thanks to the collective noise of my upstairs neighbors, Miss I-like-cement-shoes and Sir Humps-a-lot, (who I'm certain are very nice people), and the constant barrage of trucks at street level, I now know what I don't want. Which is better than leaving it to chance.