This morning I dreamed it was 7:10 and I was late for yoga. I woke up in a jolt and checked my phone. It was two minutes before 7:10. I don't use an alarm, I'm fortunate enough to have always worked at places with a certain degree of time flexibility to afford this.
The weekend passed without anything of notice. Perhaps the only thing I ought to write about is that I did exactly the same thing on Saturday and on Sunday, except that on Saturday I smoked and on Sunday I didn't. I took note of what was more and less pleasant: cleaning high is unpleasant, cleaning sober is effortless. Yoga high allows me better body mind connection and I can be more flexible, but I lose balance and handstands become more difficult. Slightly prefer high. At the park I relaxed and stretched more high, while sober I was more active and read my book, sober wins. Just a reminder to myself not to spend the entire weekend in a haze.
This weekend there was finally sun in Madrid and it was warm enough to take off my shirt. It was bliss. Winter blues hits me bad I think. Last year it was around this date when I had my bloodwork done and my Vitamin D levels were low, I wouldn't be surprised if this was the case again.
After the holidays I'm lean again and I've gained some muscle mass. At the park a little girl told her mom "mom look at his body" and her mom said "it's a human body, just like yours sweetie", and it struck me as the perfect thing to say to a child, and to me too, it was soothing to feel normal. This feeling was dispelled by a group of kids who admired a long running handstand hold and asked me to use only one hand, to which my reply was to laugh and come down from the handstand. "I can't do that yet", a little girl provided reassurance "you're so strong!" she said to me. "Thank you" I answered. They smiled and scurried away.
As of late I've been having fantasies of walking again, that great months-long walk where everything is resolved and I come back whole and clean. Yesterday I was waiting for the green light to cross the street and I thought: this is a deal I made with myself to feel incomplete and unresolved until I do my great walk, I don't need to wait for the light to turn green to cross the street. Completeness is a stroll away, not thousands of kilometers of existential redemption.
So I crossed the street on a red light and got hit by a car. Not really, I crossed the street but I wasn't hit by a big realization either. I will come to do this walk when I leave Spain.
Meanwhile, it's time to go back to work.