if you want water

if you want water, dig a well and dig it deep.

Michel said that to me, several years ago. Apropos nothing. We had just met. Apropos everything it turns out. continues.

if you want water, dig a well and dig it deep.

I thought he meant commitment, decision.

Decide. to stay.

You can't take it lightly. Just see how it goes. You have to be. all in.

if you want water.

Whatever it is that you're seeking. What you're going for. For that, decide. to show up. Commit. Stop hesitating in between beats. Don't save anything for later, for the right thing. right moment. right reason. or person.

Right here. where you are. commit.

That's what I thought he meant. And I still think it was.

The other day, I rolled out a new yoga mat, wrote my name along an edge, and waited for inspiration. I have to write something else. It can't just be my name. Something that I'll want to see each time I roll it out.

It's been weeks since I practiced, months really. I stopped tracking, so I can't be sure, but I think it's been a couple of years since I really practiced. Anyway, I had to write something. 

The last mat, the one I lost track of —  what did it say? If you want water, dig a well and dig it deep. It was there, along the edge, every time I came to the mat.

And now? 

If I don't wait. If I don't try to come up with the next thing, the right thing, if I start right here — it's,

it becomes 

what it is, already is — 

I wrote it again. let it dry for a bit, and prepared to practice.

if you want water, dig a well and dig it deep.

Because it's also about the well,

and building it

if you want




decide. again.

A decision isn't something to stick to. It's something you do in a moment, maybe in many successive moments, over and over.

There may be gaps—like between the decision to finish the book and finishing the book...

  • gaps where I did no work and could barely bring myself to think about it,
  • new-makings of the decision, as if from scratch, as if I had never done it before on days when it became clear to me how important this thing was to me or to someone looking at the images and telling me about her experience of them, or of her body or of other people's perceptions of her body
  • re-makings of the decision when tired, confused, worried, disappointed in my work, to keep going

...in these moments, decision-making was totally fresh. I had not failed to stick to it. I had never known it like this before.

Not that it felt like that then. 

This is what's happening even if we don't believe it, even if we don't believe in ourselves or each other. A decision is not a thing you make once, fix in time and space, and stick to.

A decision is not an idea or place or thing. It's a process. A decision is something  you bring into being. That you embody or that you conjure up and pour into yourself, an elixir you drink in that feeds you. Facilitates you moving forward from vision/idea to hands.

It's not static or solid. 
It's layered, dimensional, active.

It's not a place you stand on resolutely not stepping off.
It doesn't fit in your hands.

It's a moment-to-moment thing you do, an ongoing practice.
So, decide. again.

body 2/4

body 2/4