Have you ever read My Pretty Pony
This week is progressing very slowly–which is good. I’m having long, delicious dinners with my family, I’m getting some reading done. I’m working like crazy to cut 2000 words from an essay with a tight-as-hell deadline (only 480 left to go). I have so much shit to accomplish before I leave the country–hotels to book, figuring out which countries I’m even going to get to. The molassal pace is good. And yet, I know this pony runs slow then fast.
Yoga seems like days ago, but for those following along with the at-home game, day 2 was this morning, and it went GREAT. I didn’t get dizzy; I stood when I was supposed to stand and I was prone when I was supposed to be prone. It felt fantastic–like crossing a finish line. And that’s another thing about time, it’s just exactly like that damn river you can’t step in twice. Yesterday’s disappointing performance meant nothing to today’s exciting one. That’s every day. Every day is a chance to be your best damn self, to be exactly who you want to be. Yesterday ain’t shit.
And then, I hovered around in the pool for a few minutes. I’m getting a tan. My mother gifted me with some new walk-all-over-Europe shoes. I had kale salad with my beef stew. THIS DAY, I MEAN COME ON.
The challenge then, is to neither fritter nor fret away the days. In My Pretty Pony, a grandfather gives a boy a pocket watch with a second-hand so that he can always know exactly how long a minute is. I am trying to use this page like that. Each day is exactly one day, no more no less.
And now here’s something I feel weird about, but am going to go ahead and say it anyway. My blog host annual fees are due, and I haven’t got funds at the moment. Consider this my one and only membership-drive-type message. If you’d like to contribute to the upkeep of Roaming Cowgirl, you can paypal a small tip or donation to deva_sarasvati at yahoo etc. If not, I understand, and I’ll figure out some other way to keep this thing up. Thanks to you all for reading either way.