I did yoga yesterday for the first time in months. So after a night of odd dreams, I woke up in the head of my character.
My limbs are stiff, especially my thigh muscles in the back. They feel so tight and short that I walk a few inches shorter. I ease myself down on to the toilet seat and do my business. There isn't much left in me. This morning I drained myself for a good three minutes, all the while imagining my bladder was about the size of a red hot air balloon on the field of my torso slowly deflating until it became as flat as a puddle.
Muscles are like elastics when they're sore. I try to get up and my thighs snap me back down. I try again. I spread my legs wider for leverage and make it. I am moaning internally because the house is empty and there is no one to hear me.
There is actually a debate between doctors and scientists about how many muscles we have in our body. There are 650 to 885 muscles. The debate exists because there are three specific muscle groups: skeletal, cardiac, and smooth muscles. Then they are categorized between voluntary and involuntary. Today I would classify my muscles even further since none are voluntary and therefore I feel today's addition of a category would be coaxable and non-coaxable muscles.
For instance take my hips. I got two joints in each hip for the price of one. You would think this "hypermobility" as it's called would be a good thing. But in order for my hips to open up, I've got to rotate them in a certain way. Sort of like winding a clock. I have to move my leg in a big circle and roll the hip out. What was ideal for horseback riding proves disastrous for yoga because I've got to keep the hip flat and then keep my leg stiff and all kinds of things all at once.
I've been reading a book, FUP, by Jim Dodge. It got me to thinking about farming in general. When I was little I had a garden. I grew cucumbers, peppers, green beans, tomatoes, watermelons, and yellow melons. I remember planting the rows, tending to the various vegetables. Watching how they all grew differently but not understanding why.
In my book the main character starts out as a farmer. He won't have much time to farm however. Truth is he's just a vehicle, a distraction. The main characters of my book are a woman and a dog. Truth be told, it's really about the dog who is based on my dog Suiza.
One of the unique things about Suiza is when you walk with her down the street. She walks before you, never beside you. She's always anxious to get to the place she wants to get to - but she waits for you. You lag behind and she waits for you to catch up. It's something not only I've always admire about her, but one of my friends who babysat her once also commented on.
Dogs are extremely sensitive to emotions. When I'm sad or out of sorts, it's always Suiza who knows. I think because I gave her so much affection as a pup, she has come to rely on it. She hugs me, cuddles next to me and is always protecting me.
It might seem odd to some people to dedicate a book, basically create a book to praise your dog, but I manage to pull it off, it will become clear why. I won't be the first nor the last - man's best friend has been written about time and again. So a new way. I must find a new way to write about this furry thing that came into my life full of joy and lessons and made me feel whole.
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My limbs are stiff, especially my thigh muscles in the back. They feel so tight and short that I walk a few inches shorter. I ease myself down on to the toilet seat and do my business. There isn't much left in me. This morning I drained myself for a good three minutes, all the while imagining my bladder was about the size of a red hot air balloon on the field of my torso slowly deflating until it became as flat as a puddle.
Muscles are like elastics when they're sore. I try to get up and my thighs snap me back down. I try again. I spread my legs wider for leverage and make it. I am moaning internally because the house is empty and there is no one to hear me.
There is actually a debate between doctors and scientists about how many muscles we have in our body. There are 650 to 885 muscles. The debate exists because there are three specific muscle groups: skeletal, cardiac, and smooth muscles. Then they are categorized between voluntary and involuntary. Today I would classify my muscles even further since none are voluntary and therefore I feel today's addition of a category would be coaxable and non-coaxable muscles.
For instance take my hips. I got two joints in each hip for the price of one. You would think this "hypermobility" as it's called would be a good thing. But in order for my hips to open up, I've got to rotate them in a certain way. Sort of like winding a clock. I have to move my leg in a big circle and roll the hip out. What was ideal for horseback riding proves disastrous for yoga because I've got to keep the hip flat and then keep my leg stiff and all kinds of things all at once.
I've been reading a book, FUP, by Jim Dodge. It got me to thinking about farming in general. When I was little I had a garden. I grew cucumbers, peppers, green beans, tomatoes, watermelons, and yellow melons. I remember planting the rows, tending to the various vegetables. Watching how they all grew differently but not understanding why.
In my book the main character starts out as a farmer. He won't have much time to farm however. Truth is he's just a vehicle, a distraction. The main characters of my book are a woman and a dog. Truth be told, it's really about the dog who is based on my dog Suiza.
One of the unique things about Suiza is when you walk with her down the street. She walks before you, never beside you. She's always anxious to get to the place she wants to get to - but she waits for you. You lag behind and she waits for you to catch up. It's something not only I've always admire about her, but one of my friends who babysat her once also commented on.
Dogs are extremely sensitive to emotions. When I'm sad or out of sorts, it's always Suiza who knows. I think because I gave her so much affection as a pup, she has come to rely on it. She hugs me, cuddles next to me and is always protecting me.
It might seem odd to some people to dedicate a book, basically create a book to praise your dog, but I manage to pull it off, it will become clear why. I won't be the first nor the last - man's best friend has been written about time and again. So a new way. I must find a new way to write about this furry thing that came into my life full of joy and lessons and made me feel whole.
