shape shifting

"A piece is ready when it has the shape of something to cherish." —Eva Zeisel

All week I've been brooding over some new words that haven't quite formed themselves into a whole anything. No set shape yet rather than a mood....which brings me to my back.

My spine was "minimally" fractured in a bike-taxi accident in June. MDs deemed the injury a no treatment (past drugs if I wanted them and which I've declined) so despite stiffening up a lot quicker post-activity, yoga has been my self-prescription to encourage the bone to knit itself back together. Nonetheless, follow-up with the medical establishment is necessary. But I don't really enjoy seeing doctors, not having much faith left in the Western establishment given some things I've seen over the years. So I wasn't looking forward to my trip to Kaiser. Upon arrival, I quickly remembered why I distrust the whole set-up. Something about the Sugar Bowl Bakery on the entry floor and the bunch of folks smoking outside made me think we were all missing the point of what might encourage true health. My MD was nice...and after a 15-minute check-in, I was deemed 'normal," told again, I'll aways be weak in my spine, asked if I needed a prescription for pain-killers (I declined) and sent on my way.
I got up early this a.m. to go to yoga practice. I don't normally see anyone I know on my walk from the bus-stop to the studio door other than janitors, garbage men and early-morning commuters. Today I ran into a fellow songwriter walking his dog. We were both half asleep, but I imagine Greg Lee was likewise mulling and cogitating like I do on these walks. After getting over our wonder at actually seeing someone we knew at this hour, we laughed then continued on our ways. Inside the studio, the yoga teacher kicked my ass re: what I need to do to strengthen my weakened back. It was information I could use. But it will take another level of work, each day, a chipping away at, like writing, rather than the quick fix, be it sugar, nicotene or a prescription.