Reassurance

Beat the hell out of the bag today. No bag gloves allowed for sanitary reasons, so I just used wraps. It started with shadow boxing in the mirror and a few form-oriented hits on the bag. Then, I don't know what happened. Lasted 5 minutes, maybe- free flowing thoughts of frustration and disappointment and upset and anger and all those things I haven't been feeling lately. They went through my feet, past twisting hips and out the arm, my shoulders lightly popping me in the chin as I blocked.

*right* *right left* *right left*
*right right right right left*
*RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT LEFT*
*LEFT LEFT RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT!!!*

Stepped back a bit dazed and looked down at purple knuckles. I could feel slight cuts under the wraps. *whew* What the fuck?




Walked out of the gym feeling 10 pounds lighter. The emotions weren't gone- just brought at the surface to be sloghed off by radio cures and a cool night air. The moon was blinding.
Returning to study, I reread a poem I received this week.

Reassurance

I must love the questions
themselves
as Rilke said
like locked rooms
full of treasure
to which my blind
and groping key
does not yet fit

and await the answers
as unsealed
letters
mailed with dubious intent
and written in a very foreign
tongue.

and in the hourly making
of myself
no thought of Time
to force, to squeeze
the space
I grow into.
-Alice Walker