Absence I mean

I failed!

:)

Abscence of thought

Having been reminded I hadn't posted any new blogs in awhile, I was also reminded of my recent state of general ennui. Is this due to the latest economic crisis, or maybe all the old crises of late? Or just the getting back to work on Friday Night Lights--that for all the time I have off in between episodes, I feel like I do 'nothing' but work. But I don't. I'm taking naps as often as I can, I'm off to the barn for vaulting or conditioning, or like tomorrow, for a good old fashioned ride, I'm hanging out with friends , with Paka.

As I said, I'm doing nothing.

Maybe I'm in a mid-life existential crisis of not having the youthful enthusiasm of everything shining of newness, but I hope it's more due to a need to recharge, like a depleted aquifer it takes some time. Recently I was reading some study (one of those "you needed a study to find this out?") the boredom, or the state of becoming bored, was necessary for the creative process. Staring at the walls is good for the recharge. Playing with my dog's paws (I love to kind of just hold her hand--she's used to this and she will, especially on the drive home from the barn, will put her paw on my hand, like holding my hand) will fascinate me for hours.

Maybe it's feeling the internet/iPhone fatigue of continual contact and stimulation. Again, I return to the appeal of being out for hours with the horses. I don't check my phone, and my biggest concern of late has been keeping Paka away from the dead deer that have been snagged on the neighbor's new fence. And falling. My latest and greatest fall was from doing a practice safe roll off the barrel. Actually, I'm not really concerned about falling.

Or failing. I'm in week five of an intro to improv class at the Hideout in Austin. The first week we learned how to take a glorious bow and say "I failed!" while the rest of the class claps furiously. It's the most empowering gesture you can imagine. Now when we take a spill in vaulting, we all applaud and raise our hands in triumph. We tried, and maybe failed. The adults are better at it than the kids, for the record.

I think I've written that before... oh well. Like I said, I'm recharging. I'm in reruns.

This elephant had arrived in costume for a wedding at a beautiful resort in Sri Lanka that was destroyed by the tsunami 7 months later.
I spent a lot of time going around Sri Lanka on my own, as the person I was visiting was off shooting a movie (lovely film called "Water").
I grew up a very shy child, terrifically frightened, and still am at times, to approach strangers, to engage others first.
I try to get over that every day, and sometimes it pays off.
(See also fencing bear riding an elephant in London.)

do or do not, there is no try

So perhaps the writing was on the wall for what kind of vaulting evening it would be... driving to September Song Stables, where indeed, the happiest horses must live, in 102 degree weather, in 5 pm traffic, on I35, the most annoying highway in Austin, my dog was throwing up (into my hand, yes, because that was a better option than on my pants) going 60 mph and what was on NPR but a story about tinkering camp... what's that? the story began with the waiver parents must sign for their child to attend "...and by the way, one of the risks of attending this camp is serious injury or death." The man whose brainchild tinkering camp was came up with the idea while visiting a friend with a 6 yr old. During his visit, she got up from the kitchen table and yelled out at her child "what do you have--is that a stick? You know the rules about playing with sticks". Sticks are dangerous? I suppose so, in the world that seems like a fever dream I had when I was 4 years old--big plastics playground sets, no hard edges, nothing to harm the precious apparently immensely fragile child. I've thought this for a long time, that it feels unnatural. I grew up in the 70s with pull tab cans (very good at slicing those fingers), unsupervised jungle gyms, and Big Wheels (maybe you had the Green Machine)...and what about those metal skates that clung onto your shoes (hopefully!!) as you careened down the STEEPest hill you could find, only to crash and burn 2/3 the way down....
But now, kids are protected from any possibility of, well, adventure...
So this man invented Tinkering Camp... where kids are encouraged to use power tools to build a roller coaster and then use it. There's a 1 injury a day recommendation, but as one of the boys (although there seemed to be equal numbers of girls at the camp) said "I've had 3 injuries today."
Good for him. If you get out of childhood without a scar on your forehead (probably caused by a sibling--ha! sorry Rachel!! love you, mean it) have you been a little too safe?
And now I'm going to vaulting, having wiped the dog vomit on a towel -- & hey, I hate to admit I can also text at 60 mph, but will stop that practice, that's just dumb, and I'm nursing a pulled pectoralis minor (the muscle that lies right under your boob, btw...not an easy one to ice and I look like I'm feeling myself up all time from cradling it...hmm there are worse things ) from of all things, a yoga class..so maybe feeling a little, oh, vulnerable...
But it's always fun going to September Song. A little jumping on the trampoline, a little hooping, flying the girls (we're working with some acro yoga moves) just a little fun.. Paka gets lost for a bit and shows up wet and covered in mud so she's nearly unrecognizable as a black and white dog and just looks mud brown...she's been on her own adventure we know not where.
And then we go to the horses.. I can't work regularly because of this pulled muscle (and totally grousing about it) but do get to work with Teddy (big ol' draft paint, I love him) doing some compulsaries at a walk/trot and then a little at a canter.. which feels great, but is different. Feels like you're flying, and with Teddy you are, because he's a big guy. So I try a move (new to me at the canter) called a mill--pretty straightforward, start sitting front and lifting a single leg at a time move to side to back to side to front. Well I get to sitting backwards and in the moment of transition, know, in that sense of right before a wreck, the "oh geez, I'm so going down- I hope Teddy's big hooves clear me". And then plop, I've fallen, landed square on my butt. But it doesn't hurt, doesn't even make me scared. It seems funny. I knew a fall would come at a some point, and maybe I'll be sore tomorrow, but it was ok.
Ok to fall. Ok to feel "oops, that's it, I'm going down".
And what then? Got back up and did it again--not the fall, but completed a mill, at the canter, yes, and some more moves....
Thanks to our trainer Mel for always allowing us the opportunity to get out of the comfort realm, to get back up after the plop...even if I can't walk tomorrow.
Here's to having a little adventure. A tinkering camp of one's own.
And good luck to the team (the Lone Star Vaulters). They're going to their first national competition in CA this week.

We learn in the days ahead what will come in the days that follow

The progression...




oh well, you fall out of things every so often.....

Vaulting

The fact that my boobs are right in Rachele's face belies the history of vaulting. Although historical references are vague, it seems there was a strong military component, as soldiers and knights had to hoist themselves onto the horse with straight legs so as not to stab themselves or their steed with the sword. This may be more myth, but I like the idea.
Poncho should be relieved we're not equipped with swords, as my vault-ons look a bit like drunken cowboy jumping on with the posse in pursuit, hanging on the side until I finally can swing my leg up.

Sundays

This picture probably encapsulates my, or what I hope is, life philosophy. We're outside, my dog Paka is smiling in the foreground, I'm upside down trying out a move that is initially scary, but fun at the same time, with a friend who is as willing to try out new things.
Off screen, hoopers are dancing, and the man who took the picture is a handsome guy who is half-nekked.
Nice.
What better way to experience Sunday morning.
Some people are in church, some are reading the NY Times, others likely have a hangover, but I'm glad we're here.