The word "movement" has been getting a lot of play lately, what with Occupy, for example, and for those closer in to me, in the yoga world, by Sianna Sherman's Manifesto Movement of May.  I've been sitting here in my house grumbling to myself about how I think this poor word, movement, is being sorely misused, like it's getting the Hot Topic treatment and becoming available in every mall, rendered utterly meaningless and sadly, woefully powerless.

Earlier this year, inspired by other members of From Left to Write, the online bloggers bookclub I'd recently joined, I signed up for GoodReads.com.  I thought it might make it easier to keep my annual list of books read, something I've been doing for years, first in my annual Moleskine journal, then (now) in a sidebar and a dedicated page on this blog.  I also really liked that you could set a reading goal for the year.

I might have gone a little overboard.

This is Sacheen Littlefeather.  In 1973, Marlon Brando asked Sacheen to take the stage at the Oscars and refuse his award for Best Actor in The Godfather, to call attention to the treatment of Native Americans in the movies and at the siege then underway at Wounded Knee, South Dakota.

That's right: I had lunch with a woman who made history.

Damn, that's some expensive honey.

Giving credit where credit is due, recipe is courtesy of www.honey.com -- Honey-Kissed Lip Balm. 

Funny.

What isn't funny, when I think back on it, is how much pain I was in for so long.  I wrote about pain earlier, about how I only endorse two kinds of pain -- childbirth and heartache.  All other pain is bullshit.

Physical pain teaches us nothing.

And it ain't the universe's way of telling us, or teaching us, jack-shit.

Standing and typing is a habit I developed when I was too uncomfortable to sit.  The kitchen counter is just the right height, and honestly it offers everything I could ask for.  Enough room for all my tools, not least of which are coffee in my favorite mug, toasted Dave's Killer Bread (also favorite), space for phone, notebook, calculator, books, pencil, etc.  And the light's just right.

I was just reviewing a list I made yesterday, a shopping list for our bees, and realized suddenly how much things have changed.  We started keeping bees in 2009, so now we're starting our fourth season as beekeepers.  It's the fulfillment of a long-time dream and I love it, but that's not to say it's been without challenges.  Or without expense. Or that I almost quit.

My friend would have been happier had the server delivered her tea to the table with a simple "here you are" or, if a flourish were really required, how 'bout "friend" or "comrade." My friend was uncomfortable with the use of a gendered form of address, she wrote, and would have preferred none, thank you very much.  She said such terms made her "feel smaller and more powerless than I already am."  

Ouch.

But what day it was?  Absolutely no idea.

And that is something so sweet, something I've barely ever achieved even on vacation, since I generally spend my vacations in a blur of plans and schedules and must-see-this & must-go-there, highlighted passages of guidebooks and extensive To Do lists.

Eew.

 OK, so it's after 9:30 and I'm just now drinking my breakfast.  First of all, I slept in until 7:30, which is amazing.  The only reason I could bear to be in bed that long is that I'm NOT IN PAIN, which is almost too good to be true.  Like I don't even want to believe it.  Sure, yeah, I have pain at the incision, but not the nerve pain that's been killing me for so long, since December of last year really acutely, but since early in 2011 when the nagging, intermittent first signs of the problem began.  Amazing.