dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Wednesday, July 26, 2017


Let me tell you a little story.  I was going to take a yoga class at a studio that was new to me, years ago, always a daunting thing because I'm afraid they'll be like, no, you can't take yoga here--you're too fat.  Someone was giving me a ride, and I was looking for the studio's name above a door.

I saw a farming equipment fastened above a door and thought it was a yoke.  I thought, "That must be the yoga studio because yoga means 'yoke' as in being yoked to God."

Of course it was just an antique store.  The actual yoga studio was around the corner.

What is the moral of that story?  I am overeducated, yoga studios are under-decorated, words fail?  Choose your own moral.

Last night I dreamt a zombie was following me.  People were being arranged on huge staircase.  I knew the zombie, a small bald man, was seated at another area and thought I might be safe.  A woman asked if anyone had a hat because the sun was shining on her face.  I said I would trade places with her for a while.  I asked her to move her apple because I didn't want to sit on it.

What is the moral of that story?  Look for a higher place to stare, don't be afraid to trade places, don't sit on strangers' apples?  Words fail.


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