Today, I wish I could run until I didn't know myself, but my ankle/foot blew out, the way a thing will do when you need it the most. I've long prided myself on my ability to adjust to the reality of a situation.

Today's kinetic meditation will instead be in the form of limping through the neighborhood collecting my bins that the 50 mph winds blew away last night, despite the firewood I loaded them down with. An old poetry teacher once told me that love was chasing the trashcans down the street as they blew away. I think that's pretty corny. But talk about love and passion, I got a hot text from an out-of-state number I didn't recognize yesterday (Valentines Day !!??).  It read: "I had a dream about you last night---a sign from the universe that you are my true Valentine. I miss you so much.... Til we next meet in my dreams...." I thought this was very charming, this wrong number confession of love, and I wondered about the person it had been intended for--was she beautiful, were they star-crossed lovers?

Then I looked up the number in my old phone. Turns out, I know the person quite well. So well, in fact, that I have once worn matching gowns made of bath bubbles with her when I was little. Clio!

Anyway. My inner energy is wandering the labyrinth halls of Tir na Nog and smoking off the balconies.