Rhythm

Rhythm, the speed at which we tick.

Most people keep a fairly steady pace, fast as children, slower as adults, slower still as they age and then stopping.

They tick at their own rate and, as their hearts are still new, find themselves attracted to those with different rhythms to their own - new dances.

But, as they spend time with each other, ticking, and need to depend or wait on one another, the miss-match between them jars.

They are fixed as they are at that stage of their life.

Their mates are too stressfully buzzing about or too slowly dragging them down.

Dancing to 2 or 3 rhythms is too hard and people grow tired of their lover's tiresome steps.

Some of us have clocks that shift and drift with the wind and time and waves

We do the rhythm of the waltz or polka and some of us just love to tango

- some of us just love to can-can and do the fucking pogo!

Ohh - sodding pain, again

How you diddling?

I'm well pissed off with my back probs today as the pain from yesterday is worse if anything - took 4 attempts to sit down at the table earlier.... grrrrr. I can walk slowly in straight lines but have to stop to turn and I have to do it carefully or get agonising pain.

Tis a bummer. Worried that I may have torn something open inside.... but probably not, probably just the nerves being bastards as they mend - at least I hope thats what they are up to.

Interesting the Buddhist concept of mind and body being entirely one and not separate as we tend to think of them. Makes much more sense realising how the false sensations induced by my nerves can cause hallucinatory effects - I guess its cos they are wired into the brain, not the right parts but probably close enough.

The sensation of boiling water pouring down my leg and of open flames being applied brings tiny mental "dreams" of events that might really be associated with that happening.... easy to see how extreme pain might well drive some people mad.

Its just pissing me off - its not one of those things to go with and "pace" - I think thats running after a ball thats rolling down hill.

That all sounds a bit grim, sorry. Jolly at heart - I feel fine/well inside and I think thats part of the problem. If I actually felt ill then I'd be happy to sit about resting.... but I want to get out and to bounce about.

Take care, work like the devil, take no shit and take no prisoners!!!! Love and a sound kick.

Yoga and when it is best to avoid it

For some considerable time my partner has told me - nagged me - to go to yoga.

I would rather not. I remember a tv programme about yoga in the early 1970s, when I was a child. I was deeply affected by the sight of blurry hippy types bending and posing in unbecoming, stretchy, things... garb. I think that vision has been burnt into my brain. Its not helped by the fact that whenever I have witnessed yoga my only thought is that its pretty unsightly - gussets stretched, legs akimbo.

I do not want to be a lion or a rising sun or whatever else it is that they get up to. Bending is not for me.

So, I have been avoiding it but beating myself up about it - knowing that it is good for me and knowing that I am bad and in need of goodness. It will, I know, allow me to be more bendy and more trendy - more in touch with my soul as I peer at my own hole - twisted, distorted and free from stress.

I'd rather not. I'd rather stick tape to myself and pull it off slowly - I'd rather sit in the rain and an old wolly jumper feeling smelly and damp.

What is for me - well, not complete idleness. Give me some deep thumping bass, a rhythm and I'll bounce about - all night. I'd much rather bounce than bend.