Remembering.

I love how it feels to go to Mass even if it has been a really long time since your last visit. The familiarity and structure can root me anywhere in the world. When I was in India I did a brief stint at Mother Theresa's Institute for the Dying and Destitute in Delhi. Although the actual assignment was more than I was able to handle, I do remember how much attending Mass among a room of Indian nuns felt. I was very tall and very white but the same prayers flowed out of us and I grasped this unlikely chance to ground myself in a unique moment.

Tonight I learned that there's another part of me that remembers things. I chose to spend the morning thrifting at the $1.09 Goodwill (where I found TWO cashmere sweaters!) and shopping for holiday party attire instead of going to the gym. I told the kids we would go this afternoon after rest time (and after they ate their candy canes aka: Day 7 activity). By the time they woke up from cold, rainy slumber I was well over the idea of going to the gym.

Wesley had no intention of missing a chance to go to the gym. He woke Clare up with jabber about the trip and eating candy canes. The next thing I knew we were headed out the door. Talk about kid pressure. Anyhow, because I didn't really want to be there in the first place but they did I decided to try out a new class. TBT. Total Body Training. Tomorrow morning will not be pretty when I crawl out of bed.

It turns out that my dabble into step aerobics during graduate school at The Firm stuck with me. As the instructor called the moves my body responded with ease and an ingrained intuitive knowledge I know I didn't have the first time around.

Mass and step. They both seem to stick around me no matter how long I leave them alone.