there are the monday things and tuesday and wednesday and all the way through back to monday things. twists that happen on the regular. weekly and monthly things and yesterday and tomorrow things and a year from now and then and then and on and on. i heard on the radio the other day a man talking about the heart break that happens as we grow up and realize we will be doing dishes on the regular for a long a long time. that we'll be feeding our faces over and over. how these repetitions are a sort of dying that we do every day or every other day or once in awhile, but still. . . we do them. he spoke of the subtle sensation of mind and body separation that comes when we do work that our brain has already navigated so many times there is nothing new in it. he is a paraplegic and a yoga master and he said my mind body connection has been slowed, but i still have sensation. a vague burning or an itch. and i can fill that sensation out if i'm willing to be patient. i can hear, if i listen closely, my body and my mind struggling to communicate. and me, in my daily driving from here to over there, felt that here is so much sensation that i speed through. so much daily action i sleep inside and that i would like to awaken myself gently to the every day so that every day is full of new sensation even in the face of, maybe in the embrace of, daily, weekly, monthly, timely, timely, death. awake, aware, and in awe of my dying and through that find my living.