It has been a rocky summer for me. And largely because of vanity.
I had been looking forward to wearing sleeveless shirts, revealing my last remaining asset: good arms. But suddenly a giant, tentacled keratosis surfaced on my left tricep. My dermatologist couldn't fit me in for a month. To avoid scaring small children, and amusing older ones, I had to hide it under long sleeves. Last week my dermo froze it off. Free at last!
To top off the grotesque, I accidentally dyed my hair an unpleasant shade of maroon a month ago. Yesterday, a very talented stylist cut my hair in such a way as to blend the coppery tones with the incoming gray. I don't know how he worked this particular brand of magic, but I look great!
Such humiliations shouldn't matter to a yogini. But they do to this one. I'm glad the punishment is over.
And as a lovely topping to this excellent day, my daughter's boyfriend made us dinner—fish tacos! Icelandic chocolate!
I never sleep well, and last night was no exception. But in the wee hours, as I lay awake yet again, instead of letting my mind wallow in my worries, I savored the pleasures of the day and woke up happy if not rested.