Hoo-ah. BRING IT ON!
My hero for the week: the hermit of Los Alamos National Laboratory.
I went to an informational meeting yesterday for a seven-year cycle of old-school classical tantric yoga studies--non-dual tantra, not the wacky sex stuff (which is mostly some modern followers of Tibetan Buddhism, as far as I can tell). This is a body-centered practice, I guess about getting your energy balanced and working right, feeling your Self and being able to stay centered. It's seven years, but at minimum it's one day a month and probably some retreats. I mentioned it to one friend, who said she couldn't imagine doing anything for seven years; when I pointed out that she and her husband just had their eight-year anniversary, she said, "Oh, but that's more of a day-to-day thing." I don't know what kind of commitment isn't a day-to-day thing: it's not like I'd be doing the seven years all at once. I mean, it takes seven years, and I can only do one day at a time.
Given how tired I've been for so long, this seems like a good thing to do; plus, I have to do something. I'm unfocused and twitchy and grouchy, not peaceful and open and loving, and while I won't speak for my friends (who, in the matter of true friends, love me regardless), it's certainly getting on my nerves. In any case, I have four months to consider it, though unless something knocks me upside the head to change my direction, it seems likely I'll go for the yoga thing.
Life can drive us to extremes.