Crow pose

Today in yoga class I was able to hold crow pose -- the pose that I want to reach more than anything else in the world, even more than, say, headstand or a full caturanga -- for a whole two seconds. It was fantastic. Crows have figured into my life a great deal recently. I once read that the Sanskrit student should strive to become like the crow in her alertness, attention to detail, and readiness to pounce. I saw many, *many* crows while I was in Michigan, just out riding my bike. They scared me. (Think the universe was telling me to study those noun declensions? Yup.) There is, of course, the fat crow. And now there is crow pose, which doesn't make me act (or look) like a crow, but which I have been working on for a long time. As much as I wish I were Nell Gwynn --the first actress on the English stage--in a past life, I'm starting to think I might have been a crow. Not the coolest of animals, but at least it can fly.

Many, many other small special things happened to me this weekend. People that I had been thinking about completely randomly (like my eighth grade math teacher) showed up on the street the same day; I saw a magic trick; I found myself in Times Square twice; old friends from Michigan slept over; I walked to Brooklyn and back; I saw a friend whom I haven't seen in a long time; I learned that another friend is engaged to be married. I even saw the hilarious 'Hamlet 2.'

It doesn't sound like much, but for me, this weekend--jammed with all kinds of small and wonderful and bizarre things--has lasted forever.