KAREN’S HAVING A GOOD DAY

I’m just messing around here. Hopping about…

Wednesday morning was so beautiful it could have been framed and hung in a gallery. A fresh breeze was blowing offshore and there was just enough cloud cover to make th morning nippy. The entire western sky was an electric pink trimmed at the top with a deep dove-gray. The clouds didn’t burn off until after ten o’clock and by that tine Alex and I were home, cleaned up, and ready to relax. Old Alex bounded out of the barn like a frisky colt and soon all the horses were cavorting around like dolphin in a tank.

My yoga, which I practice nude on a raised wooden deck that David built for me in the forest, was one of those rare transcendent moment I frequently, but not frequently enough, experience.

I didn’t lift. I floated off the ground. I could have remained standing on my head all morning. It’s a terrible confession to make, but often I feel more at home standing on my head than I do standing on my feet. The peacock, an asana which I had been practicing diligently for years, was perfect. I was the peacock. I stretched out, my body horizontal to the deck, but six inches above it like a beam, balanced on my forearms, and when I unfolded my gorgeous tail-feathers even the cardinals in the trees took note. Oh, let that damn cop be out there somewhere.

When I meditated my Sahasrara Chakra was so charged I could feel the lotus petals open. My Kundalini Sakthi was so powerful I could have run electric trains or bent spoons with my mind. It was after sessions like this that I usually consult the I Ching, but this day I had no questions to ask. I enjoy communicating with the oracle, but I hate to bother her for nothing.

A little more of that, I thought, walking homeward through the forest, and I’d not only stop the aging process, I’d put it in reverse.

David came home for lunch and afterwards both of us went for a swim. The water was the temperature of tepid tea; I could have floated around in it all day. The breeze had stopped, the clouds had dissipated, the sky was a Van Gogh blue. It would be a hot afternoon.     I went home for a siesta, alone, David went back to work. He had a lot to do to keep us afloat. When he left he gave me a friendly pat on the fanny, “If Adams calls and we have to go in, let me know. We’ll make a night of it. Drinks and dinner. Maybe some dancing. Might as well.”

I nodded, and washed and dried my hair before taking a siesta.

Adams called around five. Yes, he had a good flight. Smooth. First class on a 747 was the only way to fly. The flight to Kauai was pleasant. yes, his room was fine.

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