I am just a joiner I guess. I need to have a group to inspire me or some kind of location to go to. Just like I wrote yesterday about the kind of computer or environment I need for writing, I need a similar vibe for my yoga.
OK, call it avoidance, but if that were it, I’d never get myself out anywhere to write or practice. Isn’t it possible to be sensitive to your location? Really, when people say that money doesn’t buy happiness, I can only think that my hypothetical misery would ease if I were on the Riviera rather than skid row. I’m just sayin’ . . .
So, now that I have the wonderful new mat, I want to put it down in a space that “feels” open and relaxing–and that place is most often NOT my home. I love my home, and it is filled with wonderful pieces from many great artists we’ve known. My son’s art projects are incredibly beautiful to me. BUT I’ve very little floor space. Where I feel embraced and cozy when relaxing, I feel enclosed and restricted when trying to let the energy of the day direct me and my practice.
When I think about it, my weaving self is the same way. Only in this case, I learned to weave on looms in small spaces (small brownstone in Baltimore, small apartment in a booth at a Renaissance festival, a tiny space in my parents’ town house that barely fit the loom and my equipment). When I was able to put my loom in a larger space, I felt as if I were afloat in this vast openness and could not create. Even now, I have a large studio space for my weaving and felting, but I keep the smaller loom in the corner and my felting space is also tucked away.
So far, then, as I review this public therapy session, I think I’ll just get off of my own case and accept that environment is very much a key to how I practice, write, weave, felt, think . . .
Own it, right?
If I only had access to my keyboard at all times. We do have smart phones and tablets and and and . . .
But a good desktop computer with the right kind of keyboard is the most wonderful thing to me. It might be like a pianist having an electric keyboard or even an app to play with while away from their instrument, but the real thing is what gives real “voice” to their muse.
It’s the same for me with my writing equipment. I need to have the right environment and the right equipment for my ideas to flow smoothly. I still hand write on paper and do enjoy that; but, then, I have to transcribe it and I’ve so little free time as it is. I even record what I can’t write if I’m driving. But, again, returning to it can be tricky.
A friend of mine said it’s more about my level of dedication than it is about inspiration, and I wonder if that is the root of the problem. I’m certainly on top of my jobs but not on top of my unpaid endeavors. Still, I’ve always been sensitive to my equipment. I’ve ridden horses since I was a kid, and I have to admit that a saddle that does not suit me makes even a trail ride something I don’t really rush to do. Now, the right tack is, of course, a safety concern as well as a comfort issue, but I think you get my point. My new yoga mat makes me wonder how I ever kept using the old one. It’s like it was working against me. Even though the practice is about much more than the equipment, the right gear makes it all go very smoothly and enables me to focus on the pose and the intention, hence, the flow.
Today, someone told me about 750 Pages (http://750words.com/). It’s new to me so I can only say that it seems to be a location where writers can plan to go and commit themselves to a minimum of words per day. I think that may be what I need: A commitment. Then, maybe the tools will be less a point of interference if I have to answer to some kind of work or goal. It could make me more mindful of the product rather than the tools themselves.
I’ll let you know how it goes . . .