Repeat After Me

In order to stay mentally and physically fit, I like to move my carcass at a speed somewhere between an octogenarian's arthritic gait and a marathon runner's stylish stride. I usually do this at night. Initially it was so nobody could see my flab swaying like dancing jelly* (*jello to some of my international friends) and my face flush with both oxygen deprivation and embarrassment.

Then something strage and unexpcted happened. After several months I had lost 8 kgs and actually enjoyed my regular jog/shuffles loping along in the manner of Aussie ultra-long distance runner Cliff Young.

I still go at night, as I find it easier to meditate by repeating my late father's mantra and focusing my attention on a point of light somewhere ahead on the poorly lit concrete bike track.

I haven't gotten a lot better at mediation though. It's like the sea. Some days are calm serene and everything clicks and other days it's all awash with turbulence and constant mental chatter. I dive in anyway.