It goes without saying, these last weeks I have been more out there, puckishly fire walking than writing about it. As things change with the documentary and the freelancing, I need to keep still. No wonder I find myself automatically assuming the eagle pose and recalling my Australian yoga teacher’s voice: “eagle pose, eagle gaze.”

I’m still a kid at this, learning that dismantling the working hours routine I had for almost twenty years does not happen in a day. Nor does creating a new one. Otherwise I would just wake up into someone else’s life, a stranger to my own skin. (Although, when I started this, from the distance it looked like things would be exactly like that. Sudden and drastic.) I don’t just wake up like I used to and instead of walking out the door to work, sit down and start writing.

It feels more like an impromptu session. There are days when I am out to personify my “As you like it” wall envy: “I like this place and willingly could waste my time in it.” Others feel like a race around town for a mix of meetings and shooting. And then there is the perfect match, when a chore like changing the tires turns into a nice long talk with my cousins, putting together puzzles of childhood stories, while the cars get fixed. The eagle trick works, after all.

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