I opened my eyes and saw that it was still dark, yet I heard the birds chirping so I knew it would be near dawn. I remembered saying to myself “I am here” and pulled out the laptop to write this work log. But then I thought: “I haven’t come into my senses yet, yesterday I could barely write in this state of grogginess, let’s try a quick meditation”, and so I sat down for five minutes focusing on the breath before beginning to write this.

Yesterday I arrived to the library at 10:20 or so. I was surprised to find it full despite the fact that it was Sunday. I dedicated the first hour and half to a personal-private project that I’m doing: I’m transcribing all my dreams and putting them into a private blog so that I can search and add metadata and such. It’s more of an impulse and its utility is marginal (even for me), but the work gets done by itself and requires no effort, so I just allow it to happen.

After this I put two hours of work towards some speculative work I’m doing for the project with the studio I’m working with. This work goes beyond the scope of the project, but I wanted to do it, and getting it done on Sunday seemed like a good way of not eating into their time budget.

I came back home for lunch and had a nap, then I went back to the library, but it was full and I was forced to work from home. After some false starts I found concentration and got a whole lot of work done, but I had to interrupt work because I wanted to check out a yoga class in the park.

The teacher has a website, and I saw that he has a book wishlist for his donation based yoga. On Saturday I had gone to the book store to get a book from his list: On Trails by Robert Moore. I eyed the book, I’ll probably buy the book for myself at some point in the future.

Yoga was interesting. The teacher seemed to me to be a non-natural yogi but had perhaps a decade of constant practice, so that his demeanor was calm but he still retained a degree of obsessiveness. Lately I’ve been thinking how holding paradoxical qualities makes people unique, and here I found an embodiment of it.

He taught us some yang yoga sequences with which I was completely unfamiliar, but my body kinda remembered postures from my teens practicing Kung Fu. Not to say that it was any easier to remember, it was simply a feeling of familiarity: “I’ve been in this position before”.

At the end of the class I debated if I should leave the book next to the tip jar or give it to him in person. I’m of the opinion that donations should be done anonymously when possible, but I felt compelled to introduce myself, since it was my first day. The teacher was ecstatic and he gave me a big hug. He said that this was just the second book he was gifted and was feeling compelled to take down the list, since nobody checked his website. I was glad to give the book in hand, as it allowed me to be part of the joy, and I left feeling quite happy.

I came back home for a quick supper, and head to the library at 10:00pm. I worked on the spec work project in deep concentration until closing time at 1:00am.