Little Red (mylittleredgirl) wrote,
Little Red

  • Mood:
  • Music:

Joy Sadhana, Day 1

Hee! People didn't tell me this was an awful idea that would annoy the crap out of everyone, and my parents have been babbling on about it too, so yay :)

For those of you who did not grow up in a cult spiritual community, "sadhana" is a practice with 'higher intent' (this is often used with yoga or meditation, but can really be *anything* done with that intention). So... Joy Sadhana would be a daily practice in the observation of joy. My mom and I had a long talk about practices yesterday, and apparently this means that "I'm sick and the Red Sox lost and I did nothing today" shouldn't be an excuse not to do this, but an opportunity or something to actually *do* this and not say "but those three things I did today suck." Which I suppose is the point. Check back with me when I'm enlightened?

For now, in an attempt to end my day with gleee, I come up with a list that is in no particular order and not comprehensive:

five good things about today:

1. Lyssie wrote me Sam/Jack fluff!

2. Watched the DS9 episode "The Begotten" with Mumsey. Once again it is made clear that I come by it COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY HONESTLY when she pauses the DVD to comment on how cute Odo and Kira are, and how we should totally have a marathon of Odo/Kira cuteness someday.

Mumsey: "Are we totally weird to only focus on the sweet romance?"
Me: "... Why would we want to focus on anything else?"
Mumsey: "Wow. That really makes me wonder what's wrong with the people who don't."

3. Star Trek Geekiness With Mumsey, Part Two: ... during "The Begotten," she sees Kira's boyfriend Shakaar on-screen and asks "Wait, wasn't he Beverly's ghost-lover on Voyager?" Me: "NO WAY!" We end up watching the TNG episode wherein Beverly has a ghost lover in order for her to prove her point. I *again* am awed by how I am totally a product of my genes. She is both proud and disturbed to have caught a detail about Star Trek that escaped both me and mystic_isles000, who have sort of made a religion out of it and used to sit around playing Star Trek trivia on the level of "What colour was the planet in that one episode with such-and-such a species?"

4. I found this by accident and was totally amused: we_r_borg

You will be assimilated. Resistance is Love.
You will be assimilated. Assimilation is Love.

5. Er... my Evil Russian Goldfish have been moved back into my bedroom. They entertain me.

three things I accomplished:

1. Went for a walk. Raaargh!

2. Went in to work with Gira for a few minutes. In so doing both left the house and acquired my own non-maternally-stolen copy of the new Bapuji book :)

3. Wrote in a random story wherein I torment Stargate Sarah (as opposed to Dead Zone Sarah or idle_dreamer) post-"Chimera", poor thing.


And, as a... reward? optional punishment? for reading that, random scenelet from that potential fic (it might go somewhere. It might even become Sarah/Pete. Hee. But for now, is angst.):


When Sarah dreams, she dreams of the sarcophagus.

She sleeps in the spare bedroom Daniel has set up for her convalescence, one thin wall away from his own. "Call out if you need me," he says on the first night, hovering over her with guilt that is meant to be concern.

The bright heat is blinding, overwhelming the earthly feel of flannel pajamas and cotton sheets and cool fall breeze from the open window until she forgets where she is. She can feel Osiris coiled within her, controlling her breath, choking her until she lets go and lets him breathe deeper into her chest than she had ever done before. Inside he squeezes her, dark and sexual and relentless. Her body -- his body -- thrums with power as the Goa'uld coffin of eternal life heals all wounds, and Sarah remembers what it's like to feel strong.

She stopped screaming against him not long after she was taken because she realized there was no point.

Sarah wakes in a dark bedroom with cloth and hair wrapped around her neck. Her tongue is her own again now (they tell her with wonder and relief and pride), but she muffles her breath in a pillow and does not make a sound.


-- Little Red, who has attained a higher state of gleee

  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic