Balance

As usual, life is a flurry of upheavals, confusions, joys, frustrations, sadness, bliss, struggles and settlings-in, but this past week has been one of the flurriest.  A blizzard, even.  So it's important to find some balance among it all.  And of course, breathe and have faith that the confusions will be answered, the achings will be relieved, and all else resolved into a happily ever after.  It's been an exercise in cultivating calm and having faith.  So there is always that for which to be grateful.  We must exercise everything good in us so it remains strong and good.

Barrel of confusion (Formerly used to age bourbon.  Connection?)

Today I went to my first Balance and Brews event at The Butcher and the Brewer.  It was the meatiest-smelling place I've ever done down-dog.  I liked the architecture and layout of the place.  And the staircase, but I'm usually a fan of staircases (except scary ones in churches in Germany).

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It was an all-levels class, which often err on the side of overly simple, but this was a pretty good balance of ease and challenge for what I needed today.  I could have pushed myself a little harder with modifications... but it's a Saturday and this has been a crazy week.  One of the highlights was that Melissa played "Sure Shot" by the Beastie Boys.  I was just talking about my thing with the jazz flute yesterday and specifically referenced this song!  Remember that?!  Awesome.  So I was dancin' in my down dog.  After a nice hour-long practice surrounded by busily working yeast, we blissed out in savasana.

Fancy pants and fermentation.

Then we got a brewery tour and got to taste some berrrrrrs.  Going with Cassie made it even cooler because she and Joe know the brewing process so well-- and they're good at it!  I enjoyed getting her take on what we tasted and hearing what she thought about how much more time each one needed before it was done.  And I wanted to raise my hand and ask more questions about what, exactly, they do to the yeast to get it to survive for ten to fifteen generations because that's pretty fascinating.  To me.  So out of mercy for everyone else there who just wanted to get their drink on, I kept my trap shut.  But if I'm there again and it's not busy, I fully intend to chat up the brewer.

Irish Red.  Very malty.

The Porter.  Very portly.

The other yogis were cool and seemed nice and down to earth.  Not too Ganeshy if you know what I mean.  And I saw that guy with the (I think) avacado-seed-sprouting tattoo and the kind eyes.  That tattoo was so familiar and I couldn't figure out where I saw him before.  It also bothered me that I wasn't 100% sure if it was an avacado, but I didn't get a chance to ask.  He was asking the owner questions.  Oh dangit... what if he was asking about yeast.  If I had just walked over I could have answered two burning questions at once!

Afterwards, Cassie, Megan and I enjoyed our "free" beers upstairs.  I ran into one of my other cousins and her husband-- always a nice surprise.  And apparently I was standing right next to the coach of the Cavs.  That's a sport-ball team, in case you didn't know.  It was a good, therapeutic adventure.  And weaving through crowded city sidewalks in the snow together with Cassie as we walked a few blocks to our cars... that was precious too.

So there's pain and there's worry.  My body still doesn't feel right-- these sudden racings of the heart and clammy chills, the aches that are worse today and make it hard to walk on one side... and to not know what is causing it... I mean, it's okay though.  It's okay because in humble warrior, I raised my hands high and bowed my head low and felt like I was worshiping at the feet of creation.  And in a bound side-angle, I felt like my legs were strong and my heart was open.  I'm grateful for the way my years in various forms of dance influence the way I practice yoga.  I observe my steadiness as I try for smooth and deliberate transitions and I let it reassure me.  If I can do it on the mat, I can do it in life.

There are so many moments to savor that are uncapturable.  The very vintage men's coat draped on the rail at the bottom of the stairs, the guy with the large birthday gift and a place to go in a hurry, the girl playing with her bare shoulder and getting frustrated that her date wasn't noticing its bareness, the snow on my cheeks, the people in love, the girl in flannel, all of it.  I just can't believe how full of beauty and life every moment is.  I can't fathom not being alive.  Just thinking about that makes me want to live differently.  Eyes more tuned to beauty.  Shake free of this conflict and hurt.  Gosh.   And then to think that God can see it all at once and that He is big enough to take it all in.  And that He created it, and us, and then gave us the ability to see even a fraction of the beauty of this life.  And thank goodness that's all we can see or, holy smokes, we'd be so overwhelmed we'd be stupified with goodness.  I really think so.  Because when I take time to just pay attention to the one little slice of life that's in front of me, I feel stupified with goodness.  Yeah.  Okay I'm getting listy with my writing and misty with my eyeballs, so here's one last picture and one bit o' brilliance.

I've got more rhymes than I've got grey hairs

And that's a lot because I've got my share

I've got a hole in my head and there's no one

To fix it

Got to straighten my thoughts, I'm thinking too

Much sick shit

Everyone just takes and takes, takes, takes,

Takes

I've got to step back, I've got to contemplate

I'm like Lee Perry, I'm very

On rock the microphone and then I'm gone

I'm like Vaughn Bode, I'm a cheech wizard

Never quitting, so won't you listen

Oh yes indeed, it's fun time

Cause you can't, you won't and you don't stop

Mca come and rock the sure shot