Ring the damn gong

Day 9 dude and I finally figured out how not to pull the stars and fairy-dust out of my tender shoulder. It's all in the hips. When I dip, you dip, we dip. I am now looking forward to the daily session at the little torture box on Capitol Hill, but it's been tough not living my usual rockstar lifestyle lately. Doing laundry and drinking a half gallon of water every night is seriously taking its toll. Tomorrow is day 10, which represents one-third of the 30-day yoga challenge. I raise my glass of wine water to that. Oh and guy-who-I-wacked-with-my arm-as-I-was-struggling-to-put my-sweatshirt-back-on, sorry about that.

Honest Shot Meditation: 
Now to the real assignment of this month, Meditation. I spent some time with "How to Meditate" by Pema early this morning before work and had the hardest time sitting still. Because all I really wanted to do was drink a decent Côtes du Rhône, smear some goat cheese on a tomato, wrap that action in a basil leaf, and kick up my feet to enjoy the party in my mouth. But no. I squirmed all over the floor trying to listen to some nun-chick tell me how to sit in a "correct posture" and think about all the things I "brought with me" and to "be present" with all of that. Then she said it's now time to start meditating. I said, damn girl I thought that was the meditation. And yes I was craving goat cheese and wine in the morning. RING THE GONG ALREADY, PEMA.

-Amy