I want to take this one step farther. There is one piece of cake left, and I really want it. I ask Luna if she wants half. She says no and I eat it. I said that was love, but it's mostly a transaction. Since I offer it to her out of love rather than a sense of politeness/duty, I ask without regret. If she had said yes, I want half, I would have given it to her gladly, because I meant it when I asked even though I wanted it all. The example of love here isn't that I offer to share my cake with her or that she let me have it, but that she gave me an honest answer, even if that answer were to be "hell yes bitch, I want that cake."
"I ask Luna if she wants half and even though she might she says no cause she knows I want it all. That is one true example of love."
We just had a conversation about this, did we not? I think in my example I used cake, and the person being offered the last piece accepted while pretending not to know that the offer-er didn't really want to share.
Hmmm... My example reeks of greed and could lead to bitterness. I think it's been infected by the capitalisms.
Yesterday was wet here, it was mostly fog but the fog here is strange, like the Nothing from The Neverending Story. It acts like rain. It was wonderful. I worked until 5 then went to the Circus Center to train. The way I feel about training changes every day. Yesterday I didn't want to go to the Circus Center, just because I get tired of going to one location every day. Some days I hate the Circus Center just because I can find it in the same place each time I go. But I go. I'm learning to stand back and watch the parade of my volatile emotions clamor on without getting swept away in them, because what matters is the training. So I trained. The threatening tide of hatred, exhaustion, resentment all cleared; and the blood woke up and my muscles cooperated.
Kristina and I were talking about training and seem to be dealing with the same issue, which is that we just want it so goddamned much. K's a contortionist, it's imperative that she relax in a posture to avoid injury and let her body memorize itself. When you want something so much, and so much depends upon it, it is hard to relax especially when you're sitting on your own head or dangling 35' by a piece of fabric. I suppose my biggest obstacle is also my biggest asset, which is how fucking much I need to do this.
Yesterday I was attempting a trick on the tissu. I did it four times unsuccessfully. The unsuccessful part came when it was time to let go with my hands and NOT swing all the way around but to end upside down. I swung around every time. Hey, I've cried in the gym before, but I didn't fucking want to stop my class to go cry. So we did backbends until it was time to scurry home and watch the VP debates.
The saxophone player I like was out by Union Square. He only knows three songs (Somewhere Over the Rainbow, Auld Lang Syne, and The Beatles' And I Love Her) but he plays them so passionately it never gets old. He only knows the basic, simple notes of each song but throws everything he's got into it. He performs like he's at Carnegie Hall. Always with his jacket not removed, but thrown off his shoulders, and an ill-concieved little floppy hat that looks as though it should not be floppy at all. And white trousers.
I'm leaving for Seattle tomorrow to see the King of the Scorpios. Purr.