I had an active imagination as a girl.
That’s code for . . .
I used to lie every now and then, like at show-and-tell. Because what I did in my mind over the weekend was a lot more interesting than sharing what I watched Johnny Quest do on Saturday mornings.
So this lying thing comes naturally. If no one gets hurt. And I believe it in my heart.
Okay. That’s stupid.
I’m very content with life right now so I don’t feel the need to lie — even about age. But if I’m tagged by another blogger, why not rise to the challenge?
What was the falsehood in my last post on why I haven’t been blogging?
True. I have been writing on my WIP. I figure it takes me 90 minutes to write 500 words. Three hours for 1000. I hate that there is only so much creative time and energy the good Lord provides me with every 24 hours. It still is my goal to post at least once a week — and set aside time to read other bloggers. But I’ve fallen short of late. I do miss the community of blogging and I’ll be back.
Between the other two, becoming a yoga instructor or falconer — seems most folks think I’m on the road to certifiable yoga.
Not that I am not enjoying the flush of new love with yoga. I just have no interest in leading anybody anywhere.
I check my responsibilities at the door. Lie on my mat and leave the driving to Mary or Shawn or Grace — or Elise. I’ll get to your class someday.
Anyone. But me.
Yesterday, during savasana after Mary’s intense Vinyasa class, I fell asleep. I can’t do that if I’m making sure everyone else relaxes. Or massaging their temples like Shawn, or singing like Grace.
I want to exert and check out mentally. Yeah, I know. Concentrate on my breath, keep my heart higher than my hips, try not to fall on my neighbor during anything . . . but
A girl’s got to know her limitations.
I would not be a good caring yoga facilitator.
I’m selfish with my yoga.
On the other hand, the thought of spending hours on end with a hawk, a dead rodent and traipsing in the woods excites me.
A girl’s got to know her limitations. I know.
The eagle has always been my favorite animal on those stupid personality quizzes, except age 14 — 18 when I went through a dolphin is my favorite animal phase.
I know Auburn’s mascot is a Golden Eagle. War Eagle VII is named Nova. There is no reason on God’s green SEC turf that I would know that (or post a photo on my blog) except that I love, love birds of prey. And he’s the George Clooney of birds of prey. Gorgeous.
Though a long and deeply committed process, the more I read about falconry — I think it’s possible.
And a dream of mine. Somewhere out in the fields of Morgan County, might be a Redtail Hawk pining for a mate (figuratively speaking) for a season of our lives.
When I want to space out while online this is one of my favorite sights. Stalking an osprey’s nest in Montana.
What do you think? Falconry or no?