Beautiful

Sometimes I understand the cat's urge to knock something off the table just to watch it fall. I discovered Chris Pureka today. After listening to and loving Andrea Gibson for so long, I am amazed I never looked up this name she mentions so often.
I look to this as my capsule. A way to store all of the other bits I don't want in my life; the old longings, the boredom, any unhappiness. This is where it goes. Why does it need to be public? I don't know that answer. Maybe all people feel a need to connect, even if "connection" means yearning for an unseen person who may or may not be present.
God, this song is a roller coaster. My heart has it's hands in the air, voiceless, feeling the plunge the screaming so often covers.
I love the melancholy introspection of Annie Dillard. I feel the same feeling from Chris Pureka. It's beautiful.
I have nothing to be unhappy about. I think the feeling is actually from the muscle relaxers. More chemistry in action.
I love talent. I yearn to express myself the way those two do. Beautiful.

I haven't written in so long I'm almost rusted shut. High fire danger today. The wind is billowing heavy smoke scented air, but outside I go because I can.

I did yoga today for the first time in months. My spine feels loose, but strained. The cats invariably lay on the mat beneath me during down dog, or push into my side for petting during spinal twists. Max just tries to ignore my heavy nose breathing.

Each pose teaches me something new. I never feel still; constantly adjusting, aligning, straightening. With a lower back problem and incredibly tight hamstrings, I am being taught to go slow. Slower still. It still feels good.

So this is love. I am struggling with our sex life. It is a problem in every relationship I have had. I am learning to relax a little. I try not to bring up sex, because I don't want to push. This relationship, my love her for, well...she is more important to me than sex.