14 December, 2014

About as sore as sore can get

Today was home practice.

There was Friday's class, and then there was shoveling, cleaning gutters, and various other activities this weekend that pretty much has my body aching all over, with my wrists being the most severe. There were Chatturangas in this practice because my wrists were screaming even from Cat/Cow. So it was a lot of deep stretching, and breathing.

This weekend was the first of the home projects that involved getting dirty and figuring things out. I got on a ladder. I used a shovel. I went to a hardware store. Almost like a normal person!

Along with home projects comes the constant need to recognize that there is no perfect, and that there is no done. It's an ongoing process, and a continuous stream of compromises. Turning over the soil unearths things that are not seen, and not all of them are good. In that sense, working on an old house is not much different from working on oneself. In fact, the combination of the two will undoubtedly bring about a never-ending stream of parallels.

But I guess if you're looking, those parallels exist everywhere we put our focus.

I could say a lot more about it, and I suspect I will.

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