Wednesday.
Wake up just in time for the yoga session. I was too optimistic yesterday night by setting the alarm at 7:30. The intention was having a herbal tea before my muscle-killer yoga session but… it’s going to be a no-no. Get up as usual at 7:57 and roll from my bed to the mat.
Cool. They’re meditating. That hasn’t happened before… maybe it is preparation for a really intense muscle-killer session or it’s going to be a mild one… let’s see. I’m a bit wary. Feel too wobbly this morning.
Well, the session is alright. To the point that I follow all the asanas and sun salutations are ace. Can’t believe this… I’m mastering after almost 7 weeks in quarantine. Although she says it’s full moon tomorrow and apparently it’s pretty intense, so that’s the reason why she’s doing gentle exercises this morning.
Hm. No mastery on muscle-killer yoga… yet.
Head to the kitchen and have my herbal tea as I’m preparing breakfast. Put Random Playlist on and Gregory Porter’s ‘Phoenix’ plays on again… Random Playlist definitely likes this song. I like it too. Rebirth vibes while washing up the pile of dishes I neglected yesterday. Not a bad start of the day.
Go upstairs with porridge and coffee and have it as I’m soaking a bit of sun and switch the laptop on. Today’s submission day. Uh… exciting. Let’s see how many actually submit. I don’t know what to expect anymore.
Don’t feel like changing so I stay in my yellow University of London t-shirt and black leggings. No make-up, glasses and messy bun. Today’s a Wednesday-style laziness.
Correct the submitted essays and hey, surprisingly they’re doing fine. I’m glad. I have the slight impression that they like to dig in the messy and dark Franco era. Didn’t have as much success when I asked them to study the influence of flamenco nowadays.
Conflict seems a much cooler subject to study, apparently.
Anyway, it works. That’s the most important thing when teaching teenagers in confinement. Whatever works just go with it.
Today I feel like resting and give myself a break. Even though it’s been a very exciting start of the week with the podcast, I feel I need to rest to get back on track with my projects. Grab my copy of Circe and read for a while (I’m determined to finish it in quarantine).
I look at the tarot card deck I bought few days ago, give them a shuffle for a while and play around with them like flashcards, trying to guess what they mean to me. It’s fun, like translating into graphics a story my subconscious wants to tell me. I guess this was bound to happen at some point… meditation, intuition courses and talking to bees. Tarot cards was the next natural step. Anyway, I’ve been always been curious to know more about them so why not.
Some people are drawn into jigsaw puzzles. I’ve always been pretty quirky so I guess reading my subconscious with tarot cards is my type of jigsaw puzzle.
Speak to dad to check up on him. Now that everyone’s able to go out for a while people are going nuts and wild on the streets. Party time in times of confinement… expected, but not very responsible (stay home, ffs). He’s annoyed and says he’s not going out again at that time. I say I have the same feeling every time is shopping expedition and some people are taking the piss with the government measures… that’s why staying home keeps me at a much better mindset.
I mention the tarot cards with an ‘oh, by the way, I have a new hobby’. He’s atheist, and rational, logic reigns. There is an explanation for everything in this world and if there’s not, it’s because it hasn’t been found yet. And…I can’t have an explanation to why I’m drawn into the mystic but after spending years trying to repress that part of myself I finally accepted I have this side of me. Confinement perks, I guess.
But it feels like telling my homophobic father that I’m gay. There’s some resemblance in the answer: ‘oh well, you’ve always had a mystical side so it’s not surprising. But you know I don’t believe in those things’. I accept his rationality it and he accepts my mysticism. We don’t need to agree but just accept. And that’s cool. Coming out of the mystical closet strike 1 done. Phew.
With mom is the same, I casually mention it. Although she goes with an “also tarot? You really are using this quarantine productively… how many things do you have on your plate already?”. I laugh because it’s true, I’m on so many things but somehow I can’t help but feeling drawn to them. There must be a reason behind I can’t really explain yet. She also goes with “oh well, jigsaw puzzles are too normal for you. I expected it from you”.
Yeah…
Random Playlist plays Jamie Cullum’s ‘The Place Where The Lost Things Go’, and I think, I don’t know, maybe I’m finally finding the missing pieces that were out of place. And it feels food embracing them again, as if they are finally completing my jigsaw puzzle.
I guess this is what wholeness means. Being ok with ying and yang.
I remind myself ‘whatever makes you happy, girl’ and head to my Wednesday meditation practice.
I’m going to sleep so well tonight.