I begin to wonder if that's the fate of modern life.
From one thing to another. Every cyclical, upward spiraling - connected. Circles intersecting for a fleeting moment on a regular basis or just sporadically. Speeding up and slowing down like the well heeled soles of a tanguera on the floor of a milonga, moving with her partner, synched with the staccato notes of the accordion.
But also like an accordion, cramming and stuffing life into a small space and time.
* * *
This weekend I'm going to try not to even think about what class I'm registering for next session at UnityWoods or how balancing Ashtanga and Iyengar works. I've loved every moment of just practicing Ashtanga this week in preparation for the weekend.
Of course I have been running around all week - cramming 5 work days into a normal 4. Shopping, cleaning, cooking, and laundry when back at my apartment, collapsing into bed after short but sweet and warming evening conversations.
Tomorrow will start some pause - forget about everything.
Just the forecasted rain, my iPod and a 3 hour drive.
A weekend with no internet and spotty mobile service -
A weekend of Ashtanga and philosophy.