I’m not one to keep track and score. Having to tally yoga classes, miles run, and beers drunk makes my head hurt. Vinyasa 5 days a week, 52 weeks in a year. 3 mile runs, 5 mile runs, do your sums. I suppose my reluctance to add up past activity just underlines my present sloth. Here, now, I keep track of blue skies- a handful, the temperature- cold, rain- why yes of course, more rain.
There are other numbers that I wonder about, sweeter numbers. How many kisses do babies get in the first year of life? How many pbjs did I make for my boys before they were 5? How many pints I’ve poured and shared with my favourite man of all. Hundreds of thousands of sweet kisses on baby cheeks, piles of sandwiches and lakes of gleaming beer, contented sigh. Thankfully these numbers keep adding up regardless of my sad inactivity. And hopefully soon my interest in my yoga practice and my running form will again be kindled and I can begin to tally up breaths and strides. Until then, kisses.
[Img.Src: Mother & Child, 1910]