I set the alarm clock this morning for 6 am. For no reason. It's a moon day afterall and there is no practice... but I set it nonetheless. I need for my body to get back to the rhythm of waking up early. Of that being what is normal. I admit, it went off, I turned it off, I flipped back the sheet and realized "Holy Cow it is COLD out there." While I realize I am in San Diego this week, the mornings are chilly and TWBD doesn't believe in a heater... so I threw the covers back on and rolled around for another hour.

I spent my entire morning preparing for a big presentation, my first one, early next week. I flailed for the first couple of hours...unclear which way to go but I think I finally threw together something and have it out for review. We'll see... I still have to learn the dialog, rehearse it, memorize the pitch and be prepared to kick ass. I'm always much harder on myself than everyone else .... so we'll see. I reserve judgment until Monday evening and we'll see what type of panic I'm in then :)

Tonight I went to satsang at the studio. It was lovely to be in a space of love and trust... it doesn't really matter that I didn't know half the people there (what was the story with that)... it was the energy and the vibrance of Hanuman that is evident in the air alone that brought me to my knees. I recognize fully that my practice will carry me through all of the mumbo jumbo. I also recognize fully that escaping into the practice is the exact wrong thing to do... for that would be escaping the very real doors by which I must pass through in order to get my life back together. The practice, however, is a foundation... My teacher tonight talked about the daily committment and he talked about moon phases and astrology and politics... We chanted... and I teared up... but tears never ran... and I feel like I'm passing through the weakness and into a centered strength. I hate what is coming. I hate what has passed... but it is what it is and today is today... tomorrow is simply tomorrow.

Today's bit of poetry:

I have a feeling that my boat
has struck, down there in the depths,
against a great thing.
And nothing
happens! Nothing ... Silence ... Waves...

~ Juan Ramon Jimenez, translated by Robert Bly