That’s me with the red belt – a 62 year old who should be at home knitting woolies for her grandkids. Fifty minutes of running around followed by learning new moves for throws and kicks. Everyone is remarkably patient with me.
My big takeaway was being settled in for “kamae“, the stance or posture you get into in preparation for a move.
I had mistakenly thought I should be coiled and ready to spring but…
I’m looking forward to a nice glass of wine later. I’ll probably drink two or three.
Funny thing was having a Doppler ultrasound on my heart today. I heard my heart beating and the doc got a good few pictures of it. I heard (again) that my aorta is stretched – not to worry about, but it’s to keep an eye on.
It gets you thinking about tradeoffs … how many days (?) hours (?) minutes (?) am I prepared to trade for that glass of wine? Aorta v rush of pleasure.
I’m half-way through Asia Srinivasan’s book of essays about the politics of desire. The author looks so young, I’m in awe at how cleverly she thinks and how masterfully she writes. I was twenty-five when she was born, with still another forty years to grow up. She’s not yet forty and I’m still waiting to be as articulate as she is.
She has a wonderful line in the preface: “At its best, feminist theory is grounded in what women think when they are by themselves…“. So here I am, trying to make sense of what I think while I’m by myself.
The rest of the quote goes “… what they say to each other on the picket line and on the assembly line and on the street corner and in the bedroom, what they have tried to say to their husbands and fathers and sones and bosses and elected officials a thousand times over.”
