As I’ve grown olderly

I’ve found a new sport:

Sitting Still.

Yep!

But though my wife encourages me

to play it enthusiastically,

(given my age…)

sitting still is a contact sport

and compared to all the other sports

I’ve managed to beat-up-my-body playing,

it’s a tough one.

Your ass connects to the rocker,

your legs rest on the bidet’.

But meanwhile,

you’re wrestling against decades of

habits in the head,

just to stay put.

(Oh! Gimme a second!

My wife just walked by,

peeked over my shoulder at what I wrote,

laughed her lovely wind-chime-laugh

and told me

“It’s not a bidet! It’s an ottoman.”

Sorry there, friends.

I didn’t set out to shock ya’

It’s just I’m getting forgetful, lately.

Confusing meanings.

Using the wrong word now and then…)

Anyway,

as I was saying,

I have to strain

against a lifetime-to-the-contrary

just to sit there.

Stillness is a difficult skill

to master.

Harder than hitting a low,inside curve

or ankle tackling a shifty half-back.

It requires emotional will.

Concentration.

I have to train, easy, at first,

like prepping for a marathon.

Struggle through, say, fifteen minutes

of doing nothing

while my heart rate rises,

115…..120…

Angst, you see?

Fight inclinations towards

all those essential activities I should be accomplishing.

Mow the lawn!

Save the world

Spray paint the heron statue out by the berry bush!

I tell me,

“Easy there, buddy!

Give yourself some time.

After a while,

once everyone has shed a few tears

and walked back down the hill to their cars,

hopefully not in a pouring rain,

you’ll be an expert!

Yep!

In one culminating instant,

all that training will kick in!

Sitting Still will be easy.

Just like it was to

breathe.