there's still snow on the rooftops...it's lovely.
i've been thinking a lot about loss.
because i think we're composed of all that we have lost; that which is gone takes up a bigger space in our hearts than the stuff which is still here: the humming refrigerator full of old milk and withered carrots, the piles of magazines in corners, the laundry needing to be folded, the television set turned down low. these things are always here; we rarely bother to think of them at all, unless they are broken and in need of repair. the unmade bed is important only when you remember that your lover left this morning and promised to never return to it again. when you awake the next morning, after a night of fitful sleep, you will find yourself in the same unmade bed, just like so many other mornings, your predictable and sturdy bed but a traitor, because it smells of her, and she is not there. and you wont be able to tell if youre upset with her or the bed her, for leaving, or the bed, for letting her.
listen
your absence is as close as my skin
i've been thinking a lot about loss.
because i think we're composed of all that we have lost; that which is gone takes up a bigger space in our hearts than the stuff which is still here: the humming refrigerator full of old milk and withered carrots, the piles of magazines in corners, the laundry needing to be folded, the television set turned down low. these things are always here; we rarely bother to think of them at all, unless they are broken and in need of repair. the unmade bed is important only when you remember that your lover left this morning and promised to never return to it again. when you awake the next morning, after a night of fitful sleep, you will find yourself in the same unmade bed, just like so many other mornings, your predictable and sturdy bed but a traitor, because it smells of her, and she is not there. and you wont be able to tell if youre upset with her or the bed her, for leaving, or the bed, for letting her.
listen
your absence is as close as my skin
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I've been thinking about loss a lot lately too. So many of our patterns are based on loss, more than any other type of event. It's like chucking a boulder in a river, each one changes our directions in ways that may not be immediately obvious, depending on how big it is. Even in time, when the river wears away the rocks, the change is still there even if only a little bit. Not necessarily a bad thing, though, I think of it as kind of a badge of honor to bear the scars of life because it means I really lived it.
Yeah, unfortunately, no one ever said loss didn't hurt. I think the big difference (to make a sweeping generalization here) between those drawn to existentialism and those drawn to, say, Buddhism (at least in its American incarnation) has to do with whether you think that's a bad thing... or at least, a bad enough thing to seek peace instead of change. Heidegger though holding onto your angst and being-towards-death was important, but then, dude was a Nazi, so...
Bottom line - hope you start feeling a bit better soon.
I'm not nearly enough of a yoga expert... ashtanga yoga is a style that focuses on a lot of pretty quick, repetitive, strength-intensive moves. It's less focused on stability and introspection than most other styles I've dabbled with.