This is adjustment day for me. First I saw Ara, my chiropractor, for my stiff neck. Then I drove on down the road to get my glasses adjusted. Once home, I ate two boiled eggs and made some peach tea. The recipe? Take the top off a bottle of water and stuff a peach tea bag into it. I learned that from my Tai Chi teacher, Cate.
It was so funny yesterday. Somehow the topic of bladders came up and she said if you contracted your muscles when you assumed the Tai Chi stance, it was like doing Kegel exercises. She giggled and said, “There is no ‘pee’ in Tai Chi.” It’s such a fun group to attend. The love and hugs flow as freely as we students do, mirroring our beloved teacher. She also has a great assistant named Donna.
One student came in all teary. A large dog had attacked her small dog, killing it. It had died in her arms and she was still traumatized, having bite marks on her legs and arms. Another student’s husband had just had stents put in, so I could feel the emotional release this class offers everyone. I used to cry the following day, even called it “Cry Chi.” I had so much grief to release.
I am resting now. Drinking tea and reading My Berlin Kitchen, by Luisa Weiss. I got it from the library in paperback and it is a delicious read. There is nothing else to do today but take a walk. The air is unmistakably fall-ish and I can do my neck exercises while I walk.
An ordinary day offers itself in disguise. It starts off with a grunt or a snuffle. But then something in you sniffs the air and it feels like easing into a bank of clouds, if that were possible. A whipped cream day, a time for play, but it’s not a winter wonderland yet. It’s that first hint of fall, the promise of going back to school and new shows on TV.
So here I am, old enough to know better, and yet I don’t know a thing. In fact, I know so little that I am beginning to worry. I read a funny line in a book review where a woman who is beginning to forget things says, “I think it’ll be a smooth ride into senility for me.” Ha, ha! I love that. Age-ing is sage-ing, but it isn’t about learning. It’s about unlearning. I am eager to unlearn more and more.