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Right hamstring insert is irritable. Well, at least it gives me a good excuse for the ibuprofen I love to take. It’s been a year, I think, since I had angry hamstrings. This time around it feels less dramatic, and I understand how to work around it. Handy knowledge, the work-around-injury knowledge. Important for Ashtangis, I guess.

I am reading about the management of intellectual capital on this fine Saturday. Interesting enough, I suppose. Work-related. I can get interested in just about anything, really. If I had my druthers, it’d be all fiction, poetry and a smattering of philosophy (started off the day with some Ken Wilber). But I’m not sure what kind of job would pay me to read what I actually prefer. And I suppose it might be kind of indulgent, intellectually. Anyhow. Fun enough reading and now I need to percolate in my head and come up with some diagrams/bullet points for work. I tracked down a highly relevant book and excitedly thought, “Oh boy! This is just what I want!” as I ordered it. Except it’s not really what I want; it’s what I need. (I could probably make an argument against the need, too, really — but that’s another thing entirely.)

So what’s the deal with this kind of intellectual work? It is reminding me of zen work: you just sweep the floor or wash the dishes or (as I often do at the zendo) weed the flowerbeds, and you don’t think about whether you want to or not. You just do. It’s like mothering tasks: I’m not a super-maternal person, but when My Gift needed something, I responded. Zen helped a lot. Took away the internal arguments about what I preferred to do. Now she’s off at school and the dog is getting old and needs to be let out often during the night. Sometimes it’s hard to get up, but there’s never a question about whether to do it or not. Note to self: zen makes life a lot easier. You can look after other creatures and after tasks without getting your own wishes too terribly involved.

Okay, so Australia. Everyone thinks I should divert from Singapore to Australia for a class with Matthew Sweeney. I think that is hilarious. It’s a 7 hour plane ride and 100 mile drive. The fact that it’s ONLY 7 hours and 100 miles out of my way cracks me up. Sure, if you’re flying 23 hours to get somewhere, what’s another 7?

I was telling My Gift about the trip yesterday and said, “Guess how long the flight from here to Singapore is?”

She immediately said, “Around 22 hours.”

“Hey, did you just look that up online?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “I just knew how long it takes to get to Australia, and I figured it was around the same.”

“How do you know how long it takes to get to Australia?”

“I don’t know. It’s just one of those mysterious facts I have in my head.”

So anyhow, in late October I’ll be in Orlando for 4 or 5 days, then come back for just a day or two and then head off to Singapore. Much as I may like the idea of an additional side trip, I think I’m going to be jonesing for home in a big way by the time I wrap up in Singapore.

At least that’s how it seems right this moment.