I'm not grounded.

This was a blog post from late May that I never published. I started it, didn't like it, and had a bad attitude for the rest of that day. Today I rediscovered it in my long list of drafts. I like it now. I am so fickle, so fluid, so quick to change my style or mood or wants or dreams at any given moment, which is part of why I love writing -- nothing else permanently captures my sudden sense of self at any given time.

"I wake up and get out of bed five hours after I wanted to, because I was too engrossed in a dream about re-acquaintance with an old friend from Holy Cross Grammar School but having to fill the pothole in front of her gigantic house. Then my dream ricocheted to another scene, an exotic pet store that looked and smelled exactly like a Filipino fish market, but with baby plesiosaurs and placentas, and I was shopping with a current friend who wanted to buy everything even though they were phasing out the sale of plesiosaurs because they were too slimy.

Meanwhile, in real life, I peeled myself from the forty different covers I have on my bed, which I nightly wrap myself in like a corndog, stumble downstairs and pour myself too-big of a bowl of Oats and Honey, which I am currently half-way finished eating, but it is too soggy to enjoy anymore and the sad little flakes are droopy like my mood.

Professor Nesset said once that he writes best in the morning. This has been an attempt and I say, fuggit. I have no motivation. The only good thing about this day so far has been getting a text message from Sam, and all it says is 'Falafel!!'"

Sometimes I worry I don't have a grounded sense of self. Maybe knowing that is the only grounded, steadfast thing about me. I have a memory of doing yoga in Montgomery Hall during Fall semester of last year. It was just me and Maggie with Jacquelyn Shannon instructing us. At one point, we were all laying on the ground, listening to yoga music, eyes closed, arms out but legs scrunched close to our butts.

"Breathe in, breathe out," Jacqueline said. "Don't think about anything, just breathe and exist."

We did this for a while. Then she said:

"Think about where your palms are. If you want to feel grounded and closer to the Earth, face them down. If you want to be open to the air and space, face them up."

She said something else about heavenly energies that I don't remember but I immediately faced mine up. It was no question. Then I cheated and opened my eyes to look around at Maggie and Jacquelyn. They both had their palms faced down. I closed my eyes and suddenly felt a bit lonely.