This has been a long, full, and good day. I am grateful for the whole day, start to finish. I never know how a day’s going to go when I first wake up–well, I guess none of us really do, even if we pretend to. As I wrote in my journal this morning, I began the day in a “subdued” state of mind/heart. It’s hard to predict where a day might go when it starts out a little on the gray/blue color spectrum. But after my morning ablutions and breakfast, I was headed out the door to work. I put on the brand new CD that my daughter had created especially for me and got onto the highway. She’d put together a playlist of positive upbeat songs. They made my 40 minute commute this morning a real pleasure–it’s hard to crab at crazy drivers when you’re singing happy songs near the top of your voice. “You gotta keep your head up, ohhh-ohhh….” The songs are still resonating with me 14 hours later. It was a very sweet gesture for her to make the CD for me. She knows I love music and singing and also knows I need the pick-me-up that I’d get from that particular mix of songs. Many of them are familiar to me, some are not. All are positive and just what I need to get me up and moving or singing or just enjoying the drive.
That on-the-road jam session set the tone for the rest of my day. Even though I spent the next several hours poring over documents and checklists and staring at computer searching through dozens of spreadsheets and documents, I remained energetic (and that’s saying something.) I took my lunch break sitting out in my car, with the windows open and a pleasant Bay area breeze (about 72 degrees) blowing through. Then it was back to poring over documents. After work I went and saw my therapist, and then for the first time since mid-February I went over to the sitting meditation for people of color over at the East Bay Meditation Center. I’d been to the center many times for classes throughout the spring, but hadn’t been to the Thursday night sit in months. I picked a really good day to go back–I reconnected with a colleague/friend I hadn’t seen in two years, one of my favorite meditation teachers was back from a five month retreat to lead this evening’s sit, and there was a buffet of food (there’s usually only tea and water) set up in honor of her return. That was particularly wonderful as I had not eaten anything since lunchtime seven hours earlier.
After the typical 30 minute silent meditation period and a short food break, we reconvened for the evening dharma talk. The teacher talked about her time on retreat, five months of quiet and solitude. She was literally alone in the wilderness for two full months and largely on her own for the other three. While part of that sounds really (really) appealing to me, it also strikes me what an incredibly difficult and challenging thing it would be to live in relative silence–except the sounds of nature around you and whatever noises you might make, talking to yourself and such. As much as I crave solitude, I doubt I am ready to tackle the solitude of no phone, no iPod, very little in the way of outer distractions. You really have to be with yourself, your thoughts and feelings, 24/7. Still, the idea of doing a shorter retreat, say three, seven or ten days seems a bit more manageable, though even that would be challenging. I plan to do one, though, sooner rather than later.
I am grateful for the day I’ve had, though it was long and I am writing this about two hours later than usual. The theme for the teacher’s talk tonight was “Letting Go,” and God knows I’ve done a little bit of that over the past 18 months or so. It is something I’ve actually given a lot of thought to, so her talk was timely. As I ponder my “what’s next” I know that I will be letting go of some people, places, and things I’ve become attached to. And that’s alright. It is time. I remember a coaching friend of mine reminded me that when you let go of something, you’re opening up your hands to let something else come. Let go, let come. A good thing to ponder and meditate on as I prepare to take my rest.
And yet another shout out to the now waning moon who nonetheless is still shining brilliantly through my window yet again tonight. I am so grateful for the spectacle she’s made of herself these past several evenings. And I am grateful for my capacity to recognize and appreciate the beauty that literally is all around me at any given time. Yep, I’m grateful and as the old church folk used to say, “Wouldn’t take nothin’ for my journey,” which is to say that, whether the road has been easy or hard, it’s my journey and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
