The last entry was about my time.  This is about my body.  I think I've known for about 30 years that these were my two big unresolved issues.  The session today with my Alexander teacher was useful, as it usually is.  The note I took out of it:

     Radical sense:
     Space around me is MY SPACE.  Let it be mine. Experience a sense of grace as I move within it,

Later I wrote "I'm trying to occupy my space with gratitude and fullness -- it's MINE"
   
This may all sound like strange language, but it addresses aspects of my chronic discomfort, particularly in my upper spine/neck.  Isn't it funny how we have to work so hard to relax (release).  Kind of oxymoronic, as in "TRY HARDER TO STOP TRYING!"

But the fact is that when I take ownership of the space around me with gratitude and fullness, when I let it BELONG to me, I soften.  I think this applies to a lot of aspects of my life: the more I can feel that I own what I need, the more open and generous I can be. And I do want to be open and generous. Which perhaps is exactly why it's so important I experience a sense of being given (by "God"?) that which I need -- so I can afford to give it away.  I'm not by nature a laid back person, am sometimes concerned that being around me can be stressful for others, drain energy.  My goal is to emanate positive energy, so that being around me increases others' sense of peace.  That's a tall order, especially for someone like me, but maybe it's doable.  My mother was like that in her last years.

So here's a category I belong to:  people who retire (or partially retire) before their spouses, who have one or more significant interest, e.g. pottery, but who are ADD and chronic procrastinators, which makes them bad at structuring their time when they're not on deadline, which, because they're retired (or partially retired) they rarely are (on deadline), so they rarely even get around to doing what they love because they're always putting off doing various other things they feel they should accomplish before they get to what they love.  So they knock around feeling vaguely lonely but mostly just dissatisfied with themselves.
I don't know how many people are in this category, but I can't be the only one!
Anyway, at the moment I'm seeing my daily life as something under daily construction.  Which all life is, I suppose, but the less structured and constricted it is, the more obvious this is.  (We always have freedom, of course, even in the most severely constricted circumstances; my problem, however, is that I have too much freedom.)
I like the idea of carrying around with me all day the sense that I'm (always) constructing my life.  It feels kind of Buddhist.  It also feels kind of absurd for a woman of 66 (OK, 66 yrs and 19 months, but who's counting?)
I think I'm gonna have a good time tomorrow with my Construction Project.