I get a lot of my ideas from my yoga classes.

It's not like they originate there. Ideas are everywhere. Can be heard anywhere.

I really don't think there is anywhere that is inherently better than anywhere else for ideas to sparkle up.

Khao San Rd, grease pencil, 2002

Khao San Rd, grease pencil, 2002

I think it's more that when I am in class, working off of what goes into me having gotten there at all,

and steeped in my previous experiences of taking class,

and being focused on my body and what it's doing, or how it's breathing me,

and especially, that I am not really in a conversation of words with the teacher —which probably raises my listening aptitude by a power of 11!

I think it's because of all of this, that in this place: it happens that I often hear things.

Things that are no doubt rooted in so many other things that came before...just this is where they've come together in a way that resonates. And, I hear them.

Sometimes they ring. The other day, a teacher told me she noticed me nodding. 

Also, at the end of class, teachers read things to us. When I'm probably my most receptive of the whole day, I lay there and words reach me like air. [I LOVE being read-to.]

So, I get a lot my ideas from my yoga classes.

This week JPT read to us from Milan Kundera's Slowness:

There is a secret bond between slowness and memory, between speed and forgetting.

A man is walking down the street. At a certain moment, he tries to recall something, but the recollection escapes him. Automatically, he slows down.

Meanwhile, a person who wants to forget a disagreeable incident he has just lived through starts unconsciously to speed up his pace, as if he were trying to distance himeself from a thing still too close to him in time.

The degree of slowness is directly proportional to the intensity of memory; the degree of speed is directly proportional to the intensity of forgetting.
— excerpt from Slowness by Milan Kundera

So true! Kundera often is.

Slowness  > > >  Memory.

Slower is something I've been working with lately. In terms of learning to stay in this moment, rather than continually be rushing out of it to the next thing.

And, now, there's this whole other side to it, how slowness includes the past, holds it for you, so you can remember.

Like someone reading your story to you.