January is over, and 2014 in 1/12 complete, before I'm even used to the idea that it has started. Time really does seem to speed up as my life progresses.
This weekend, the start of February, is an opportunity to relax a little, sleep a little extra, recharge, and enjoy things. The rest of the month will be a bit busier.
With a forecast of some sun and a temperature reaching 50 degrees, I may go down to the park, sit by the creek for a while, and enjoy the sound and energy of the water flowing by.
Friday, January 31, 2014
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Get Things Done, by Jupiter!
For me, today was a day to buckle down and get some things done at work. I had a handful of important things to do, and I arrived at work a little concerned that I wouldn't be able to complete them, but I tackled them one at a time, and stuck with each one until it was finished. I had a few unexpected things come up, but not enough to knock me off course.
Perhaps it's partly that the end of January is approaching, and there has been enough time for the holiday chaos to recede into the past. Recent posts from daughter Tanya in France and daughter-in-law Nicole in Pittsburgh indicate that I'm not alone in having a spurt of winter productivity.
OK, the Jupiter reference is just an attempt to cleverly draw in a completely unrelated topic. When I left work today, the sun was setting with a pretty red orange winter glow. The sky was darkening, but still blue, too bright to reveal any stars, but not too bright to mask Jupiter's light. I enjoyed seeing the small pixel of light against the backdrop that had just the right glow to mask the stars but let Jupiter shine through. I knew that when I came out again a few hours later, I would see Orion just to the right of Jupiter, both bright against the cold, black night sky.
Perhaps it's partly that the end of January is approaching, and there has been enough time for the holiday chaos to recede into the past. Recent posts from daughter Tanya in France and daughter-in-law Nicole in Pittsburgh indicate that I'm not alone in having a spurt of winter productivity.
OK, the Jupiter reference is just an attempt to cleverly draw in a completely unrelated topic. When I left work today, the sun was setting with a pretty red orange winter glow. The sky was darkening, but still blue, too bright to reveal any stars, but not too bright to mask Jupiter's light. I enjoyed seeing the small pixel of light against the backdrop that had just the right glow to mask the stars but let Jupiter shine through. I knew that when I came out again a few hours later, I would see Orion just to the right of Jupiter, both bright against the cold, black night sky.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
A Leaf In The Snow
Winter is a time when the world can seem lonely, and sometimes a bit stark and harsh. It can also be very beautiful, in ways impossible to imagine at another time of year. The snow we got a week ago is still on the ground. The blanket of snow simplifies the landscape, making a light backdrop that contrasts with shapes and shadows in subtle and ever-changing ways.
Most of the deciduous trees lost all their leaves months ago, but there's one type of oak (at least), that always has some leaves that hang on for the winter.
A few days ago, I came home and saw a solitary oak leaf, standing up in the snow on the front yard. It must have fallen from the tree across the street, and happened to land, stem down, in the snow. It is a beautiful image - one brown oak leaf, standing alone in the snowy expanse. Surprisingly, it has stayed there for several days.
The simplest of things, but making a very dramatic visual statement. A natural work of art that will last for a short while - until a stronger wind blows through, or warm air arrives to melt the snow. Then there will just be an oak leaf lying in the yard, waiting to be raked up or perhaps absorbed into the soil.
Most of the deciduous trees lost all their leaves months ago, but there's one type of oak (at least), that always has some leaves that hang on for the winter.
A few days ago, I came home and saw a solitary oak leaf, standing up in the snow on the front yard. It must have fallen from the tree across the street, and happened to land, stem down, in the snow. It is a beautiful image - one brown oak leaf, standing alone in the snowy expanse. Surprisingly, it has stayed there for several days.
The simplest of things, but making a very dramatic visual statement. A natural work of art that will last for a short while - until a stronger wind blows through, or warm air arrives to melt the snow. Then there will just be an oak leaf lying in the yard, waiting to be raked up or perhaps absorbed into the soil.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
The Richness of Experience
The quality of my life results from the depth of my awareness and the richness of my experiences. Time is flowing, and my life is bobbing along on that stream for a little while.
I can see the horizon of the present, but cannot see beyond it, though I frequently delude myself by thinking that I can.
This time, this experience right now, is my life. How can I make it as full and rich as it can possibly be?
My mind wants to assume, and wants to ignore things it already knows. Another delusion, thinking that the next moment of experience is the same as one already past.
Better to accept that I know nothing, and that everything is, if I look deep enough, a new experience, a new opportunity to learn and to appreciate the world.
I can see the horizon of the present, but cannot see beyond it, though I frequently delude myself by thinking that I can.
This time, this experience right now, is my life. How can I make it as full and rich as it can possibly be?
My mind wants to assume, and wants to ignore things it already knows. Another delusion, thinking that the next moment of experience is the same as one already past.
Better to accept that I know nothing, and that everything is, if I look deep enough, a new experience, a new opportunity to learn and to appreciate the world.
Monday, January 27, 2014
On The Horizon
Yesterday I wrote about some really long periods of time - calculable perhaps, but not really comprehensible. Last night I was at a concert of the composers group that I belong to, and as I was listening to one of the pieces of newly composed music, I thought of the image of the sun, as it sets the horizon aglow, just before it rises.
I thought of that as an image of the present moment, that moment of awareness and anticipation, if I could just stay in that state, always. The horizon, which is that point where something first appears, or on the other side, disappears from view, is always there, although the events it reveals change constantly.
Being in the present moment is being continually aware of the horizon. It isn't attention for a moment, but attention of the passing of each moment through the stream of time.
I thought of that as an image of the present moment, that moment of awareness and anticipation, if I could just stay in that state, always. The horizon, which is that point where something first appears, or on the other side, disappears from view, is always there, although the events it reveals change constantly.
Being in the present moment is being continually aware of the horizon. It isn't attention for a moment, but attention of the passing of each moment through the stream of time.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Time
I have a hard time with time. I suspect this is because my brain is structured to understand time in a way that is relevant to survival. A minute, an hour, a day, a year, a decade, a lifetime - these are all comprehensible. But all that - all the time I will experience in this life, is less than a blink of an eye on the cosmic scale.
Two articles I read recently speak to those longer, deeper times - that we can somehow grasp at least as numbers - but which stretch orders of magnitude beyond our direct experience - not only as individuals, but as a species.
One was an article in the January 2014 Smithsonian magazine about the Messel Pit in Germany, a site dating back some 48 million years. A former mine, it has yielded the most fossils from the Eocene period, the period when mammals spread throughout the ecosystem, evolving rapidly to replace niches left vacant by the extinction of the dinosaurs. 48 million years. That's about 600,000 lifetimes, and about 240 times as long as modern humans have existed, based on fossil and genetic evidence placing our emergence at about 200,000 years ago. It's also about half of the estimated 100 million years or so that a comet, asteroid, or other object large enough to cause a mass extinction collides with the earth.
The second was about new conclusions about a "collision" between our Milky Way galaxy and the Andromeda galaxy - which is currently a pretty comfortable 2.5 million light years away, but moving slowly in our direction. Current information indicates that the two galaxies will merge in about 4 billion years from now. Coincidentally, that's about the time in our own Sun's lifespan that increasing radiation will have killed most life on earth's surface. 4 billion years. That's 50 million human lifetimes, and 20,000 times as long as humans have existed.
So, what's the likelihood that humans, with our sense that we are the most important things in the universe, will be around, in a million or a billion years? My guess is zero. The pace of biological evolution alone makes it seem likely that we won't be the same organisms in a few hundred thousand years at best - if we don't suffer from any of the major calamities that have caused previous species to go extinct on this planet.
In one sense, it's amazing that our brain, which needs to track time so it can understand the flight of an arrow, or how far one could travel before dark, or when was the season to plant, can even formulate the concept of a million or a billion years. But we seem to have a hard time grasping the truth about what this means for our place in the universe. We're one life form that will exist for a tiny slice of cosmic time on one planet out of billions.
So, even though I can't really comprehend these huge stretches of time that are behind us and before us, I can grasp enough to realize that the meaning of my life has to be found somewhere other than thinking I am the Master of Universe.
Two articles I read recently speak to those longer, deeper times - that we can somehow grasp at least as numbers - but which stretch orders of magnitude beyond our direct experience - not only as individuals, but as a species.
One was an article in the January 2014 Smithsonian magazine about the Messel Pit in Germany, a site dating back some 48 million years. A former mine, it has yielded the most fossils from the Eocene period, the period when mammals spread throughout the ecosystem, evolving rapidly to replace niches left vacant by the extinction of the dinosaurs. 48 million years. That's about 600,000 lifetimes, and about 240 times as long as modern humans have existed, based on fossil and genetic evidence placing our emergence at about 200,000 years ago. It's also about half of the estimated 100 million years or so that a comet, asteroid, or other object large enough to cause a mass extinction collides with the earth.
The second was about new conclusions about a "collision" between our Milky Way galaxy and the Andromeda galaxy - which is currently a pretty comfortable 2.5 million light years away, but moving slowly in our direction. Current information indicates that the two galaxies will merge in about 4 billion years from now. Coincidentally, that's about the time in our own Sun's lifespan that increasing radiation will have killed most life on earth's surface. 4 billion years. That's 50 million human lifetimes, and 20,000 times as long as humans have existed.
So, what's the likelihood that humans, with our sense that we are the most important things in the universe, will be around, in a million or a billion years? My guess is zero. The pace of biological evolution alone makes it seem likely that we won't be the same organisms in a few hundred thousand years at best - if we don't suffer from any of the major calamities that have caused previous species to go extinct on this planet.
In one sense, it's amazing that our brain, which needs to track time so it can understand the flight of an arrow, or how far one could travel before dark, or when was the season to plant, can even formulate the concept of a million or a billion years. But we seem to have a hard time grasping the truth about what this means for our place in the universe. We're one life form that will exist for a tiny slice of cosmic time on one planet out of billions.
So, even though I can't really comprehend these huge stretches of time that are behind us and before us, I can grasp enough to realize that the meaning of my life has to be found somewhere other than thinking I am the Master of Universe.
Friday, January 24, 2014
Winter Observations
Thursday morning, as I walked to work, the moon was high in the pale blue winter sky to the south. A "third quarter" moon, as it was half lit at the midpoint of the cycle between the full moon and the new moon. Next to it, two long jet contrails hung in the air corridor running north to south above the Atlantic coast states.
It was a striking image - a blue canvas with a half white circle, and two straight white brushstrokes running past. In the next instant, my brain, evolved to notice movements, drew my attention more closely to the contrails. Were they moving? Yes, and quite quickly. Apparently there was a strong west to east flow at that level of the atmosphere. With the moon as a reference point, it was apparent that the contrails were moving sideways - not dispersing at all - just sliding across the sky from right to left. The jet trails were like the dye put in water to see how the currents flow, or smoke in a wind tunnel. They let me see what would otherwise have been an invisible movement of air - the static-appearing blue sky was really in dynamic motion.
--
This morning, as I walked down Dale Drive toward the path that cuts through to Highland Drive, past a wooded lot, I saw a shape against the snow. Is that a deer? I think so. As I started up the path, each step drawing me a little closer, I could tell that indeed it was a deer, lying in the snow, head up and alert. Then I saw more brown shapes, and some movement. Three deer were lying in the snow, and two were up walking around. It was 12 degrees. Though I know these native animals are built to deal with such weather, so long as it doesn't last too long, I still felt a bit sorry for their plight as I trudged off to a warm office for the day.
--
The familiar evening stars and planet were up as we left La Ferme in Chevy Chase after Pam's birthday dinner, bright in the dry and dark sky - Jupiter, the constellations of Gemini and Orion - were the most prominent. The shift in their apparent position in the sky since the fall is easy to see. And compared with the positions of Castor and Pollux, the two brightest stars in Gemini, Jupiter continues to edge away from them and over in the direction of Orion.
It was a striking image - a blue canvas with a half white circle, and two straight white brushstrokes running past. In the next instant, my brain, evolved to notice movements, drew my attention more closely to the contrails. Were they moving? Yes, and quite quickly. Apparently there was a strong west to east flow at that level of the atmosphere. With the moon as a reference point, it was apparent that the contrails were moving sideways - not dispersing at all - just sliding across the sky from right to left. The jet trails were like the dye put in water to see how the currents flow, or smoke in a wind tunnel. They let me see what would otherwise have been an invisible movement of air - the static-appearing blue sky was really in dynamic motion.
--
This morning, as I walked down Dale Drive toward the path that cuts through to Highland Drive, past a wooded lot, I saw a shape against the snow. Is that a deer? I think so. As I started up the path, each step drawing me a little closer, I could tell that indeed it was a deer, lying in the snow, head up and alert. Then I saw more brown shapes, and some movement. Three deer were lying in the snow, and two were up walking around. It was 12 degrees. Though I know these native animals are built to deal with such weather, so long as it doesn't last too long, I still felt a bit sorry for their plight as I trudged off to a warm office for the day.
--
The familiar evening stars and planet were up as we left La Ferme in Chevy Chase after Pam's birthday dinner, bright in the dry and dark sky - Jupiter, the constellations of Gemini and Orion - were the most prominent. The shift in their apparent position in the sky since the fall is easy to see. And compared with the positions of Castor and Pollux, the two brightest stars in Gemini, Jupiter continues to edge away from them and over in the direction of Orion.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Breathe, Calm Down, Do Something
Breathe, calm down, do something - this is a pretty reliable solution to the problem of "monkey mind" and the stress that accumulates when I feel overwhelmed by demands on my time and attention, both from without and within.
As I wrote about yesterday, I wasn't successful at applying that simple recipe, which tosses a lifeline down the pit I'm in so I can climb out.
Today was better. I recognized that the scattered clutter of papers around my office was a strong sign that I was leaving too many things half done - physical artifacts of the jumping around of attention called "monkey mind." So I started with the nearest paper, which turned out to be notes from the day before about things that were no longer relevant. So into the recycle bin went that bit of disorder. It didn't take long to take care of several more things, and I left for the day feeling better, and that with some focused attention tomorrow, I might make it up the lifeline and out of the pit.
Meanwhile, outside it is very cold. We had temperatures down in the single digits a couple of weeks ago with the polar vortex, and then it gradually warmed up and we had some nice days with temperatures in the 50s before the recent snowstorm. Now it is cold again, with low temperatures around 10 degrees for several nights - tomorrow's high is forecast to be 22 degrees.
We haven't had a prolonged stretch of really cold weather for a few years. One potential benefit is that some of the invasive plant and insect species may not survive the winter as well, which could help our gardening next summer. It's too soon to tell, and the current long term forecast for February has it warming up quite a bit - to more normal winter daytime temperatures in the 30s and 40s.
When we first moved here, I thought I might ride the bus to work on bad weather days, but in 10 years, I never have. Even on these really cold mornings (9 degrees today), I put on several layers and some good cold weather outerwear from my skiing gear, and my walk to work is fine.
Walking is another good way to clear out mental and physical stress - and is one of the main ways I have dealt with stress going back to my childhood. It's a regular part of my day now, helping me to arrive at work with a clear mind, and to leave most accumulated junk from the day somewhere along the path before I get home.
As I wrote about yesterday, I wasn't successful at applying that simple recipe, which tosses a lifeline down the pit I'm in so I can climb out.
Today was better. I recognized that the scattered clutter of papers around my office was a strong sign that I was leaving too many things half done - physical artifacts of the jumping around of attention called "monkey mind." So I started with the nearest paper, which turned out to be notes from the day before about things that were no longer relevant. So into the recycle bin went that bit of disorder. It didn't take long to take care of several more things, and I left for the day feeling better, and that with some focused attention tomorrow, I might make it up the lifeline and out of the pit.
Meanwhile, outside it is very cold. We had temperatures down in the single digits a couple of weeks ago with the polar vortex, and then it gradually warmed up and we had some nice days with temperatures in the 50s before the recent snowstorm. Now it is cold again, with low temperatures around 10 degrees for several nights - tomorrow's high is forecast to be 22 degrees.
We haven't had a prolonged stretch of really cold weather for a few years. One potential benefit is that some of the invasive plant and insect species may not survive the winter as well, which could help our gardening next summer. It's too soon to tell, and the current long term forecast for February has it warming up quite a bit - to more normal winter daytime temperatures in the 30s and 40s.
When we first moved here, I thought I might ride the bus to work on bad weather days, but in 10 years, I never have. Even on these really cold mornings (9 degrees today), I put on several layers and some good cold weather outerwear from my skiing gear, and my walk to work is fine.
Walking is another good way to clear out mental and physical stress - and is one of the main ways I have dealt with stress going back to my childhood. It's a regular part of my day now, helping me to arrive at work with a clear mind, and to leave most accumulated junk from the day somewhere along the path before I get home.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Sandwich Day
I decided to call today a sandwich day. I had a very enjoyable start to the day. Yesterday we got 5 inches or snow of beautiful snow that fell without much wind and laid across the landscape like a soft blanket. Then overnight it got very cold - it was 9 degrees when I got up. So I bundled up in some of my little used ski gear - a wool baclava and a fleece color - plus my heavy coat and boots, and headed out for the walk to work.
The air was crisp and refreshing, the snow white in the morning sun, just a few clouds in the sky. I passed one person cross country skiing down the street, and enjoyed the unique sound, part crunch, part squeak, of my boots on the snow.
The middle part of the sandwich was not so appealing. My day at work was hectic and I fell into the swamp a bit, feeling pulled in too many directions and unable to bring much to a satisfactory conclusion. In the end, one task is done, and many more remain. Mid-afternoon, I was fully aware that I had lost my positive perspective, but was just able to hang on to the end of the day, never turning things around.
My sandwich day finished off with a positive note, however. I had a band rehearsal, the first time I've played with the group since mid last fall. We're starting to prepare for a gig coming up in a month. We just had a lot of fun.
If the day had been a real sandwich, I would have tossed the inside after the first bite and just enjoyed the good bread on the outside.
The air was crisp and refreshing, the snow white in the morning sun, just a few clouds in the sky. I passed one person cross country skiing down the street, and enjoyed the unique sound, part crunch, part squeak, of my boots on the snow.
The middle part of the sandwich was not so appealing. My day at work was hectic and I fell into the swamp a bit, feeling pulled in too many directions and unable to bring much to a satisfactory conclusion. In the end, one task is done, and many more remain. Mid-afternoon, I was fully aware that I had lost my positive perspective, but was just able to hang on to the end of the day, never turning things around.
My sandwich day finished off with a positive note, however. I had a band rehearsal, the first time I've played with the group since mid last fall. We're starting to prepare for a gig coming up in a month. We just had a lot of fun.
If the day had been a real sandwich, I would have tossed the inside after the first bite and just enjoyed the good bread on the outside.
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Going With The Snow Flow
Today was set to be a busy day at work. Yesterday was a holiday, so we had a short week and a lot of projects due. When we have a Monday holiday, Tuesday assumes Monday's schedule, so we planned to start the week off at 9 am with a management team meeting, a division staff meeting, and a briefing for the Office Director.
So the snowstorm that was forecast to move through during the day and leave several inches of snow followed by very cold weather couldn't have been better timed to disrupt my plans.
When I got up about 6 am, I checked the news and heard that federal offices were closed and that telework policies were in place. That meant that almost 20 people who normally come into the office would be working from home. This happens from time to time, but it isn't always possible for people to work productively from home when they haven't had any advance notice to prepare.
I decided the best way to deal with this was to take on the challenge of trying to have a productive work day in spite of the circumstances. I sent emails to the staff and the management team saying we'd have the planned meetings by phone and go from there.
I was pleasantly surprised when we called in for the staff meeting and everyone had called in. That's the first time in a long time that we've had 100% attendance at a staff meeting. Business the rest of the day was conducted by email and telephone. It was one of the busiest days I've had in a long time, and I think as much work was done - perhaps more - as would have happened if we had been in the office.
I want to talk about the experience with the staff and see what we can learn from it, but I think we've reached a new level in functioning under these circumstances.
Later, we learned that our Tuesday night yoga class had been cancelled. So Pam and I held a relaxed session of our own - exploring some limitations in body movement and technique - consulting an anatomy book, and quickly running into the limits of our knowledge about some hip muscles that are too tight. We'll ask our teacher about that next time we see her. It was fun to explore and try some things out without the structure that comes with a group class.
In the end, the snow disrupted our plans, but the experience of the day was quite positive anyway, because we saw opportunities rather than problems.
So the snowstorm that was forecast to move through during the day and leave several inches of snow followed by very cold weather couldn't have been better timed to disrupt my plans.
When I got up about 6 am, I checked the news and heard that federal offices were closed and that telework policies were in place. That meant that almost 20 people who normally come into the office would be working from home. This happens from time to time, but it isn't always possible for people to work productively from home when they haven't had any advance notice to prepare.
I decided the best way to deal with this was to take on the challenge of trying to have a productive work day in spite of the circumstances. I sent emails to the staff and the management team saying we'd have the planned meetings by phone and go from there.
I was pleasantly surprised when we called in for the staff meeting and everyone had called in. That's the first time in a long time that we've had 100% attendance at a staff meeting. Business the rest of the day was conducted by email and telephone. It was one of the busiest days I've had in a long time, and I think as much work was done - perhaps more - as would have happened if we had been in the office.
I want to talk about the experience with the staff and see what we can learn from it, but I think we've reached a new level in functioning under these circumstances.
Later, we learned that our Tuesday night yoga class had been cancelled. So Pam and I held a relaxed session of our own - exploring some limitations in body movement and technique - consulting an anatomy book, and quickly running into the limits of our knowledge about some hip muscles that are too tight. We'll ask our teacher about that next time we see her. It was fun to explore and try some things out without the structure that comes with a group class.
In the end, the snow disrupted our plans, but the experience of the day was quite positive anyway, because we saw opportunities rather than problems.
Monday, January 20, 2014
More Monkey Mind
Recently, the thought occurred to me that I was spending too much time and energy focused on what other people were doing, and not enough on creating my life. I catch myself from time to time looking at websites or phone apps, not because of any particular intention, but just to occupy time or because there might be something interesting.
The content pushers that feed streams of stuff into email accounts and onto websites thrive on behavior like mine. But does it help me thrive?
I had a double lesson today on the impact of device diversion. I started off the day making a decision to work on the things on my list, and only use the computer, and especially the smartphone, for specific tasks related to what I was doing. For example, I wrote some thank you cards, and looked up the addresses on the phone. I used the computer to look up some information and write some emails for the Composers Society. But I refrained from random surfing, and even from looking at the major news sites.
It took a little bit of effort at times, but the end result was that I didn't fill my mind with a bunch of distractions, got quite a bit done, and felt more settled and less frantic.
Then I discovered that Evan had sent several text messages while I was out running, and that Dad had gone to the hospital for some tests. There was ongoing communication for a couple of hours, and then I went to yoga class knowing that I might need to respond to a message or a call. I settled by the door, and told the instructor what was going on. She was understanding, and tolerated me keeping my phone at the mat with the ring off.
Just as the class began, I got a text from Evan that I replied to. There were a few back and forth. Then a phone call, so I stepped out. Later a text came saying that Dad was being sent back to the assisted living home. I stepped out to call them and make sure they were ready.
I was amazed at the impact on my attention. I immediately felt how it kept me from settling in to the attentive and focused space that I normally enjoy in a class, even though I had anticipated it and was as prepared as I could be.
In one day, I vividly experienced the positive effects of intentionally avoiding the technology-facilitated distractions, and the impact on a highly focused activity when I had to pay attention to the incoming messages. Together, these experiences clarify for me the importance of directing my attention and activity, and minimizing my exposure to the chatter of the cyber monkey mind.
The content pushers that feed streams of stuff into email accounts and onto websites thrive on behavior like mine. But does it help me thrive?
I had a double lesson today on the impact of device diversion. I started off the day making a decision to work on the things on my list, and only use the computer, and especially the smartphone, for specific tasks related to what I was doing. For example, I wrote some thank you cards, and looked up the addresses on the phone. I used the computer to look up some information and write some emails for the Composers Society. But I refrained from random surfing, and even from looking at the major news sites.
It took a little bit of effort at times, but the end result was that I didn't fill my mind with a bunch of distractions, got quite a bit done, and felt more settled and less frantic.
Then I discovered that Evan had sent several text messages while I was out running, and that Dad had gone to the hospital for some tests. There was ongoing communication for a couple of hours, and then I went to yoga class knowing that I might need to respond to a message or a call. I settled by the door, and told the instructor what was going on. She was understanding, and tolerated me keeping my phone at the mat with the ring off.
Just as the class began, I got a text from Evan that I replied to. There were a few back and forth. Then a phone call, so I stepped out. Later a text came saying that Dad was being sent back to the assisted living home. I stepped out to call them and make sure they were ready.
I was amazed at the impact on my attention. I immediately felt how it kept me from settling in to the attentive and focused space that I normally enjoy in a class, even though I had anticipated it and was as prepared as I could be.
In one day, I vividly experienced the positive effects of intentionally avoiding the technology-facilitated distractions, and the impact on a highly focused activity when I had to pay attention to the incoming messages. Together, these experiences clarify for me the importance of directing my attention and activity, and minimizing my exposure to the chatter of the cyber monkey mind.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
What I Did Today
feed the cats
meditate
haircut and shower
yoga class
cook and eat brunch
online video chat with kids in France, Pittsburgh, and Oklahoma
prepare for Composers' Society meeting - getting the house ready for visitors
Composers' Society meeting - had 4 people today - good meeting
cook and eat dinner
play trumpet and piano a bit
read homework assignment for yoga teacher training
talk and text with Evan about news that Dad fell at the retirement home - he's OK
Why do I feel as if I didn't do much today? Probably because only two of these were on my list for the weekend, the rest saved for tomorrow, the Martin Luther King Jr holiday.
meditate
haircut and shower
yoga class
cook and eat brunch
online video chat with kids in France, Pittsburgh, and Oklahoma
prepare for Composers' Society meeting - getting the house ready for visitors
Composers' Society meeting - had 4 people today - good meeting
cook and eat dinner
play trumpet and piano a bit
read homework assignment for yoga teacher training
talk and text with Evan about news that Dad fell at the retirement home - he's OK
Why do I feel as if I didn't do much today? Probably because only two of these were on my list for the weekend, the rest saved for tomorrow, the Martin Luther King Jr holiday.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Tuning In
A few days ago I posted about my intention to do a Grand Canyon hike in 2014. The thought to do this seemed to come "out of the blue" one evening, but immediately seemed more like a decision than an option.
There's a yoga class on Friday at work that I go to when I can. During the class, another man who I know, and who is a regular in the class, was having a problem with one of his feet hurting. The instructor, Sheree, helped him out. After the class, the conversation continued, and as I walked past I heard them talking about the Grand Canyon.
As it turns out, Dan is going for a hike there in April, and Sheree has been there as well on various adventures. So I joined the conversation for a bit and got some useful information and some new ideas to look into. Now that I'm tuning in to the idea of a Grand Canyon hike, I wouldn't be surprised to find the topic popping up in other places that I wouldn't have expected.
Awareness is like that. There are many more things going on all around us than we are aware of, and our minds like to be efficient, which sometimes seems like "lazy." We settle into our habitual patterns, and our minds ignore the stimuli and information that don't fit its immediate expectation.
There's great richness all around, and we create our experience - either rich or impoverished - by how much we are aware of. I think this happens a layer down from the conscious mind most of the time. So things we can do, like meditation, that settle the mind and make it more receptive, increase our ability to tune in to more of the world around us and create a richer experience.
There's a yoga class on Friday at work that I go to when I can. During the class, another man who I know, and who is a regular in the class, was having a problem with one of his feet hurting. The instructor, Sheree, helped him out. After the class, the conversation continued, and as I walked past I heard them talking about the Grand Canyon.
As it turns out, Dan is going for a hike there in April, and Sheree has been there as well on various adventures. So I joined the conversation for a bit and got some useful information and some new ideas to look into. Now that I'm tuning in to the idea of a Grand Canyon hike, I wouldn't be surprised to find the topic popping up in other places that I wouldn't have expected.
Awareness is like that. There are many more things going on all around us than we are aware of, and our minds like to be efficient, which sometimes seems like "lazy." We settle into our habitual patterns, and our minds ignore the stimuli and information that don't fit its immediate expectation.
There's great richness all around, and we create our experience - either rich or impoverished - by how much we are aware of. I think this happens a layer down from the conscious mind most of the time. So things we can do, like meditation, that settle the mind and make it more receptive, increase our ability to tune in to more of the world around us and create a richer experience.
Friday, January 17, 2014
Reference Point
The universe continually reminds me of how little I know, how little I pay attention. This week's teachers are a pair of celestial bodies - Jupiter, and the Moon.
I am somewhat embarrassed to say that my understanding of the moon's pattern of motion was that it orbited around the earth, went through phases of lighting that had something to do with its orientation to the sun and that it moved around in the sky - sometimes it would be visible at night, sometimes during the day, sometimes in the morning, others in the evening, and that sometimes it was closer to earth than other times.
It was only a few years ago that I watched the full moon out my window about 6 pm rising over an Alaskan mountainside and thought that I'd stake it out the next night to take a photo. But the next night the moon was nowhere in sight at 6 pm, and when it did appear, it wasn't in the same place relative to the mountain. Of course, all this was completely predictable, but I had never paid enough attention to understand it.
Four nights ago, I was outside at 8 pm, and could see two objects in the hazy city sky -- Jupiter, and right next to it, the bright, full moon. I can't explain it, but there's something majestic and compelling about the moon and a bright planet together in the sky.
Two nights later, I was again outside at 8 pm, and spotted Jupiter high in the sky - but no moon. "Oh, there it is," quite a ways down toward the horizon. Then I understood what was going on - the moon was coming up later each day, and the relatively fixed position of Jupiter gave me a good reference point to see the degree of change.
Tonight, after work, a gym workout, and dinner, we were once again out at 8 pm. The sky was hazy with moisture, but I could see Jupiter high overhead. The moon was nowhere in sight as we walked up through downtown Silver Spring. Then I spotted a fuzzy glow just above the horizon, where the moon was finally coming up. Tomorrow, by 8 o'clock in the evening, it won't be up at all.
After 50+ years, I now have some awareness about the direction and magnitude of the moon's motion relative to the earth. Now, when I see the moon, I'll have a general idea of where it will be in the sky the next day. Not hugely important, perhaps, but it feels good to know that, and I'm glad I was paying attention these past few evenings.
I am somewhat embarrassed to say that my understanding of the moon's pattern of motion was that it orbited around the earth, went through phases of lighting that had something to do with its orientation to the sun and that it moved around in the sky - sometimes it would be visible at night, sometimes during the day, sometimes in the morning, others in the evening, and that sometimes it was closer to earth than other times.
It was only a few years ago that I watched the full moon out my window about 6 pm rising over an Alaskan mountainside and thought that I'd stake it out the next night to take a photo. But the next night the moon was nowhere in sight at 6 pm, and when it did appear, it wasn't in the same place relative to the mountain. Of course, all this was completely predictable, but I had never paid enough attention to understand it.
Four nights ago, I was outside at 8 pm, and could see two objects in the hazy city sky -- Jupiter, and right next to it, the bright, full moon. I can't explain it, but there's something majestic and compelling about the moon and a bright planet together in the sky.
Two nights later, I was again outside at 8 pm, and spotted Jupiter high in the sky - but no moon. "Oh, there it is," quite a ways down toward the horizon. Then I understood what was going on - the moon was coming up later each day, and the relatively fixed position of Jupiter gave me a good reference point to see the degree of change.
Tonight, after work, a gym workout, and dinner, we were once again out at 8 pm. The sky was hazy with moisture, but I could see Jupiter high overhead. The moon was nowhere in sight as we walked up through downtown Silver Spring. Then I spotted a fuzzy glow just above the horizon, where the moon was finally coming up. Tomorrow, by 8 o'clock in the evening, it won't be up at all.
After 50+ years, I now have some awareness about the direction and magnitude of the moon's motion relative to the earth. Now, when I see the moon, I'll have a general idea of where it will be in the sky the next day. Not hugely important, perhaps, but it feels good to know that, and I'm glad I was paying attention these past few evenings.
Thursday, January 16, 2014
The Breath vs Chaos
Sometimes I find myself reacting to one stimulus after another - an email, a phone call, someone walking in the office, a thought about a project I need to work on, then a calendar reminder of a meeting in 10 minutes, and on and on. Once that starts, it feeds on itself and I lose all focus and sense of priority.
The Buddha is said to have described a condition called "monkey-mind." B.J. Gallagher describes it this way: "Buddha described the human mind as being filled with drunken monkeys, jumping around, screeching, chattering, carrying on endlessly. We all have monkey minds, Buddha said, with dozens of monkeys all clamoring for attention."
One purpose of meditation is to quiet the monkeys down a bit. A couple of weeks ago, I realized that I could use my breath to combat the chaos, not in a meditation session, but as it was occurring. What I need is just to interrupt the unconscious mental processes that are leaping from one thing to another, to bring awareness and mindfulness back into the forefront.
I'm beginning to develop a new habit. When I realize that my mind is wanting to flit to another thing I interrupt the process by focusing on my breath - a long, relaxed inhalation followed by a long, relaxed exhalation. Then I bring my conscious awareness to what I am doing, and why.
This process, which takes just a few seconds, is quite effective at making the monkeys go sit down and chill for a bit, while I turn my attention to the activity that I have chosen to do next.
The Buddha is said to have described a condition called "monkey-mind." B.J. Gallagher describes it this way: "Buddha described the human mind as being filled with drunken monkeys, jumping around, screeching, chattering, carrying on endlessly. We all have monkey minds, Buddha said, with dozens of monkeys all clamoring for attention."
One purpose of meditation is to quiet the monkeys down a bit. A couple of weeks ago, I realized that I could use my breath to combat the chaos, not in a meditation session, but as it was occurring. What I need is just to interrupt the unconscious mental processes that are leaping from one thing to another, to bring awareness and mindfulness back into the forefront.
I'm beginning to develop a new habit. When I realize that my mind is wanting to flit to another thing I interrupt the process by focusing on my breath - a long, relaxed inhalation followed by a long, relaxed exhalation. Then I bring my conscious awareness to what I am doing, and why.
This process, which takes just a few seconds, is quite effective at making the monkeys go sit down and chill for a bit, while I turn my attention to the activity that I have chosen to do next.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Difficult, But Easy
Band practice was cancelled for tonight, and I had a yoga make-up class to take, so I went to Suzie Hurley's Yoga III class that meets from 8:00 to 9:30. I took that class for a whole session last summer, when it was on a different day and time that worked better for me, so I know many of the people in the class.
It's an advanced class, at a relatively late hour, and I had been tired during the day, so I didn't want to knock myself out. I decided at the onset to keep my effort back a bit from the edge, to not push myself hard, but to stay within myself and keep a feeling of ease in the practice.
I succeeded in my intention, for the most part. I was careful and deliberate in all my movements, and more aware than normal of times when I began to push, or felt my effort or the intensity of sensation was going too far. I don't think the approach limited me in any way, and my poses were as full as ever.
The main difference was that at the end of the night I felt more refreshed and relaxed than I might have expected after an advanced class. Some time ago, I asked Suzie how she approached a difficult practice that pushed her limits, to avoid injury. She said the key was to work at an 8 or 9 out of 10 in terms of effort - not to let the effort get out of control. I think for the most part tonight I worked at a 6 or 7, with occasional moments working a bit harder. Overall, I accomplished what I set out to do, and had a healthy, productive practice.
It's an advanced class, at a relatively late hour, and I had been tired during the day, so I didn't want to knock myself out. I decided at the onset to keep my effort back a bit from the edge, to not push myself hard, but to stay within myself and keep a feeling of ease in the practice.
I succeeded in my intention, for the most part. I was careful and deliberate in all my movements, and more aware than normal of times when I began to push, or felt my effort or the intensity of sensation was going too far. I don't think the approach limited me in any way, and my poses were as full as ever.
The main difference was that at the end of the night I felt more refreshed and relaxed than I might have expected after an advanced class. Some time ago, I asked Suzie how she approached a difficult practice that pushed her limits, to avoid injury. She said the key was to work at an 8 or 9 out of 10 in terms of effort - not to let the effort get out of control. I think for the most part tonight I worked at a 6 or 7, with occasional moments working a bit harder. Overall, I accomplished what I set out to do, and had a healthy, productive practice.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
A Hankering to Hike
The photo accompanying this blog - taken atop Mt Jumbo on Douglas Island in Southeast Alaska - is proof that I have occasionally taken a hike - even when not having been told to do so. But I'd characterize myself as a casual, fair weather hiker. I've done a little backpacking and camping, but never been avid about it.
Not too long ago, I sat down at the computer one evening and thought - "what adventurous thing would I like to do?" The first thought that popped into my mind was "Grand Canyon." I was there once, as a little kid, on a family vacation, but that was a long time ago.
So, I googled "Grand Canyon hiking" and up popped some pages. Almost immediately my attention was caught by mention of the hike from one rim to the other. One of the few things I remember about the childhood trip was hearing about the trail that went all the way to the bottom, and that you could ride mules down.
I looked into some descriptions of the rim to rim hike and continued to be drawn to it as something I'd like to do. I found descriptions from people who did the whole trek in a day (mostly uber fit folks), and others who took a day to go down (almost a mile of elevation), and a day to climb out. But the most attractive idea for me was to take 4 days, and camp at two other spots besides the canyon bottom - one about halfway down, and the other about halfway up. I like the idea of taking more time and having some hours to just be in the place, instead of hurrying through it.
I've already mentioned the idea to Pam, and have tentative plans to try for next fall - perhaps around my birthday in October. I've learned that fall is a popular time to hike in the canyon, permits are limited, and you have to apply 4 months in advance. This will give us some time to train - and a side benefit is that it will be motivation to get out and hike in some of the great places around here - such as Shenandoah National Park, and other segments of the Appalachian trail - that just hadn't yet risen to the "I need to do that" level.
I see this as an example of the liberating effects of yoga practice that I've described in previous posts - being able to seize on some spontaneity and go with it.
Not too long ago, I sat down at the computer one evening and thought - "what adventurous thing would I like to do?" The first thought that popped into my mind was "Grand Canyon." I was there once, as a little kid, on a family vacation, but that was a long time ago.
So, I googled "Grand Canyon hiking" and up popped some pages. Almost immediately my attention was caught by mention of the hike from one rim to the other. One of the few things I remember about the childhood trip was hearing about the trail that went all the way to the bottom, and that you could ride mules down.
I looked into some descriptions of the rim to rim hike and continued to be drawn to it as something I'd like to do. I found descriptions from people who did the whole trek in a day (mostly uber fit folks), and others who took a day to go down (almost a mile of elevation), and a day to climb out. But the most attractive idea for me was to take 4 days, and camp at two other spots besides the canyon bottom - one about halfway down, and the other about halfway up. I like the idea of taking more time and having some hours to just be in the place, instead of hurrying through it.
I've already mentioned the idea to Pam, and have tentative plans to try for next fall - perhaps around my birthday in October. I've learned that fall is a popular time to hike in the canyon, permits are limited, and you have to apply 4 months in advance. This will give us some time to train - and a side benefit is that it will be motivation to get out and hike in some of the great places around here - such as Shenandoah National Park, and other segments of the Appalachian trail - that just hadn't yet risen to the "I need to do that" level.
I see this as an example of the liberating effects of yoga practice that I've described in previous posts - being able to seize on some spontaneity and go with it.
Monday, January 13, 2014
A Path to Positivity
What is yoga for? There is no one answer, of course. But one that will serve well is that yoga is about getting in touch with our self so that we can transform it. On the physical level, the transformation comes by getting stronger, more flexible, and better balanced. The same words can describe its effects on the mind, as well.
When I began yoga, I wanted to be more positive in my approach to life. I didn't have any idea how yoga would help that, but somehow, at the time I had the positive intention to change, I became interested in yoga.
Now, in my third year of daily practice, I understand the process a little. How so little of the way we receive life - whether we're happy or unhappy - is due to the things that happen. Rather, it is how we perceive and respond to the events that largely - perhaps entirely - creates our emotional state.
I see how deeply ingrained patterns and habits control and limit me and how hard they are to change. But they can change, and little by little I'm seeing things change in my life. I am more positive, more content, but at the same time more able to confront things that need to be changed and to think of different ways to deal with challenges. I procrastinate less, get more done, am more comfortable calling people up to discuss and resolve problems. I'm thinking farther into the future, becoming able to plan for more things rather than react to events.
At the same time, I am happier and more content at work while being increasingly attracted to life after this career. Does that mean I'll work longer, or retire sooner? I don't know, but it looks more like a choice between two positives than a decision based on dislike of what I'm doing now, or fear of the future.
We started the second phase of yoga teacher training this week, and while participating in the first week of a beginning yoga class, I felt more energy and excitement about it than I have through the first 5 months of the program. A room full of people, with diverse backgrounds and abilities, all on a journey of transformation. I hope all can find what they need, as I have found a path to positivity.
When I began yoga, I wanted to be more positive in my approach to life. I didn't have any idea how yoga would help that, but somehow, at the time I had the positive intention to change, I became interested in yoga.
Now, in my third year of daily practice, I understand the process a little. How so little of the way we receive life - whether we're happy or unhappy - is due to the things that happen. Rather, it is how we perceive and respond to the events that largely - perhaps entirely - creates our emotional state.
I see how deeply ingrained patterns and habits control and limit me and how hard they are to change. But they can change, and little by little I'm seeing things change in my life. I am more positive, more content, but at the same time more able to confront things that need to be changed and to think of different ways to deal with challenges. I procrastinate less, get more done, am more comfortable calling people up to discuss and resolve problems. I'm thinking farther into the future, becoming able to plan for more things rather than react to events.
At the same time, I am happier and more content at work while being increasingly attracted to life after this career. Does that mean I'll work longer, or retire sooner? I don't know, but it looks more like a choice between two positives than a decision based on dislike of what I'm doing now, or fear of the future.
We started the second phase of yoga teacher training this week, and while participating in the first week of a beginning yoga class, I felt more energy and excitement about it than I have through the first 5 months of the program. A room full of people, with diverse backgrounds and abilities, all on a journey of transformation. I hope all can find what they need, as I have found a path to positivity.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Some Time By Sligo Creek
The temperature outside was 52 when I headed out for a walk along Sligo Creek. That's especially notable since less than a week ago it was 5 degrees. So today was a perhaps brief, but welcome, respite from winter.
As I walked down the street robins in the yards on both sides foraged around and also flew skittishly away from me - keeping one eye on me and the other on the lookout for a bit of food. I've seen these pulses of robins before. During the winter, they come and go with the warm and cold fronts.
After finishing up the January weekend of yoga teacher training and checking off a few tasks, the thing I needed to do was get outside, get some sunshine and fresh air, and see what was going on in the woods and the stream.
In the past week, as it warmed up from the cold, we got quite a bit of rain, so the creek is running dirty and high. As I walked up the trail, I spotted a flat rock in the edge of the water on the other side that was in the sun and looked like a good place to sit for a while.
I went upstream to the next bridge and then came back to find the rock, which was quite a nice perch. It is in a straight stretch of the creek that runs narrow and fast between the banks. Beside me the water poured over a small fall, pulling air under and making foam that circled back in the eddies. The water boiled and rushed around the boulders, intent on its downstream gravity fueled journey, but not having an easy time of it.
Far downstream the water entered a smoother run, and the surface was shiny and calm for a bit before it entered another stretch of rapids, reminding me of the flow of events in life, sometimes busy and tumultuous, sometimes peaceful, but always changing and always pulled toward the ultimate destination.
Sitting by the flowing water is very compelling - being close to the obvious, tangible energy of this flow that continues, day and night, week after month after year. I think watching flowing water is a way to see time. I feel connected to the world, and to my life.
As I walked down the street robins in the yards on both sides foraged around and also flew skittishly away from me - keeping one eye on me and the other on the lookout for a bit of food. I've seen these pulses of robins before. During the winter, they come and go with the warm and cold fronts.
After finishing up the January weekend of yoga teacher training and checking off a few tasks, the thing I needed to do was get outside, get some sunshine and fresh air, and see what was going on in the woods and the stream.
In the past week, as it warmed up from the cold, we got quite a bit of rain, so the creek is running dirty and high. As I walked up the trail, I spotted a flat rock in the edge of the water on the other side that was in the sun and looked like a good place to sit for a while.
I went upstream to the next bridge and then came back to find the rock, which was quite a nice perch. It is in a straight stretch of the creek that runs narrow and fast between the banks. Beside me the water poured over a small fall, pulling air under and making foam that circled back in the eddies. The water boiled and rushed around the boulders, intent on its downstream gravity fueled journey, but not having an easy time of it.
Far downstream the water entered a smoother run, and the surface was shiny and calm for a bit before it entered another stretch of rapids, reminding me of the flow of events in life, sometimes busy and tumultuous, sometimes peaceful, but always changing and always pulled toward the ultimate destination.
Sitting by the flowing water is very compelling - being close to the obvious, tangible energy of this flow that continues, day and night, week after month after year. I think watching flowing water is a way to see time. I feel connected to the world, and to my life.
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Where Did All This Energy Come From?
As reported yesterday, I stayed home and slept most of the day, feeling tired, heavy and very low on energy. I still felt that way when I first got up, but as the day went on - even though the cold symptoms are still with me - I felt more and more energy, more even than on a normal, healthy day.
What is going on? I'm sick, I should be feeling drained, or feeling a little better than yesterday, like the tide has slowly turned. But no, underneath the congested, drippy exterior, something has kicked in a hyper-energy level for the day. How I feel isn't aligned with how I think I should feel.
Tomorrow I'll likely find out if my zippyness today was like the last burst of a burned out star before it collapses into a black hole (I find that the cold is not going away but was just gathering itself for a major assault), or if this particular cold was just quick and not especially severe.
Whatever the situation turns out to be, I'm happy to have had a better day than I expected, as this was the big day of the January yoga teacher training weekend, with two 3-hour sessions. Had my energy been down and the cold worse, I could have been miserable, or perhaps had to skip the session. Instead, I had a good day, learning a lot and enjoying being with the teachers and other students.
What is going on? I'm sick, I should be feeling drained, or feeling a little better than yesterday, like the tide has slowly turned. But no, underneath the congested, drippy exterior, something has kicked in a hyper-energy level for the day. How I feel isn't aligned with how I think I should feel.
Tomorrow I'll likely find out if my zippyness today was like the last burst of a burned out star before it collapses into a black hole (I find that the cold is not going away but was just gathering itself for a major assault), or if this particular cold was just quick and not especially severe.
Whatever the situation turns out to be, I'm happy to have had a better day than I expected, as this was the big day of the January yoga teacher training weekend, with two 3-hour sessions. Had my energy been down and the cold worse, I could have been miserable, or perhaps had to skip the session. Instead, I had a good day, learning a lot and enjoying being with the teachers and other students.
Friday, January 10, 2014
A Cold Life
This winter seems to be a good one for the viruses that spread around this time of year causing colds and flu. Over the holidays, many in my family were suffering - it seems to go with the territory of being a parent, as the children bring viruses home from day care and school. Many people at work have been ill as well.
I've managed to avoid the flu - I probably have the flu vaccine to thank for that - but in spite of being pretty aware of contacts, and washing my hands a lot - I have a cold.
I'm treating my cold a bit differently than I often have in the past, when I would power through it, taking various over the counter concoctions to reduce the symptoms. This time I'm being more accepting that my energy level is reduced, my body is fighting off the virus, and needs more rest and plenty of liquids. I slept much of the day today and found that by accepting that I was sick and that my life needed to adjust for a few days, my mental and emotional state is more settled and calm.
Sure, I'd like to have not gotten sick - I'd never choose congestion, achiness, and having my energy sapped. But those are conditions that I get to experience for the present, and there's still a lot I can enjoy by not letting myself feel miserable about it.
I've managed to avoid the flu - I probably have the flu vaccine to thank for that - but in spite of being pretty aware of contacts, and washing my hands a lot - I have a cold.
I'm treating my cold a bit differently than I often have in the past, when I would power through it, taking various over the counter concoctions to reduce the symptoms. This time I'm being more accepting that my energy level is reduced, my body is fighting off the virus, and needs more rest and plenty of liquids. I slept much of the day today and found that by accepting that I was sick and that my life needed to adjust for a few days, my mental and emotional state is more settled and calm.
Sure, I'd like to have not gotten sick - I'd never choose congestion, achiness, and having my energy sapped. But those are conditions that I get to experience for the present, and there's still a lot I can enjoy by not letting myself feel miserable about it.
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Mom
Today would be my mother's 84th birthday. She was born January 9, 1930, and passed away in late January, 2010. I thought about her today, more than I have in the past couple of years.
Perhaps that's because as I'm growing older, I'm experiencing more things that remind me of her - such as being a grandparent. I also am reminded of Mom by the continual stream of gun violence tragedies. I grew up in a family that had guns, and I learned to shoot and to hunt at an early age. As a young child, I had toy guns and played with them a lot.
Mom had a rule about playing with toy guns. I could pretend to shoot things - trees, rocks, cars, buildings, and even animals - but I was never to point a gun, even a toy, at another person. If I did, it would be confiscated and I'd be otherwise punished. I don't recall ever crossing that line. I knew she meant it, and the lesson I learned was that it was wrong to shoot at another person.
I guess it's common to think that the things you are taught as right and wrong are universal, and to be surprised to find out that other people don't share the same values. On this issue though, I think Mom was right.
I have a cold. It has been slowly developing this week. I noticed the first hint of symptoms on Monday. There's a stage when you notice something that might be the start of a cold, but there's room for denial - perhaps it's just from the really cold, dry air we've had. But by today, there's no doubt. My body is trying to fight off a virus which has hijacked some of my cells to serve as viral replicators. Being sick is another thing that brings memories of Mom, because she was always there to take care of me and support me until I felt better.
Mom's last few years were difficult as she suffered from Parkinson's and Alzheimer's diseases. At times, during the last 2-3 years, I felt as if I had already lost her. But as time goes by, I'm realizing more and more that she is still with me in many ways. Thanks, Mom.
Perhaps that's because as I'm growing older, I'm experiencing more things that remind me of her - such as being a grandparent. I also am reminded of Mom by the continual stream of gun violence tragedies. I grew up in a family that had guns, and I learned to shoot and to hunt at an early age. As a young child, I had toy guns and played with them a lot.
Mom had a rule about playing with toy guns. I could pretend to shoot things - trees, rocks, cars, buildings, and even animals - but I was never to point a gun, even a toy, at another person. If I did, it would be confiscated and I'd be otherwise punished. I don't recall ever crossing that line. I knew she meant it, and the lesson I learned was that it was wrong to shoot at another person.
I guess it's common to think that the things you are taught as right and wrong are universal, and to be surprised to find out that other people don't share the same values. On this issue though, I think Mom was right.
I have a cold. It has been slowly developing this week. I noticed the first hint of symptoms on Monday. There's a stage when you notice something that might be the start of a cold, but there's room for denial - perhaps it's just from the really cold, dry air we've had. But by today, there's no doubt. My body is trying to fight off a virus which has hijacked some of my cells to serve as viral replicators. Being sick is another thing that brings memories of Mom, because she was always there to take care of me and support me until I felt better.
Mom's last few years were difficult as she suffered from Parkinson's and Alzheimer's diseases. At times, during the last 2-3 years, I felt as if I had already lost her. But as time goes by, I'm realizing more and more that she is still with me in many ways. Thanks, Mom.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
It's Not Always Easy
Today I found myself stuck in the spot I don't want to be in - faced with work that had to be done but I was not what I wanted to be spending my time on. There were two facets to this. First, the topic - fishery disaster assistance - is one for which I have little control over the eventual decision. Second, the decision, whatever it turns out to be, is of little consequence in the long run for our main mission - sustainable management of fisheries.
But this kind of thing comes along with the government job territory. In one sense, it's important because it's important to someone higher up than me, and I should just get over the rest of it. But that's not the state of mind I was in today.
It's an accomplishment of sorts that I was well aware of what was going on. I was also feeling low on the energy scale - perhaps coming down with one of the cold viruses that have been going around - and thought that might be making it harder for me to pull out of the mud hole I found myself stuck in.
By the end of the day, I did manage to move things along, so perhaps tomorrow will be fertile ground for a more positive outlook. The topic isn't going away, so the sooner I can get to the "want to" perspective, the better.
But this kind of thing comes along with the government job territory. In one sense, it's important because it's important to someone higher up than me, and I should just get over the rest of it. But that's not the state of mind I was in today.
It's an accomplishment of sorts that I was well aware of what was going on. I was also feeling low on the energy scale - perhaps coming down with one of the cold viruses that have been going around - and thought that might be making it harder for me to pull out of the mud hole I found myself stuck in.
By the end of the day, I did manage to move things along, so perhaps tomorrow will be fertile ground for a more positive outlook. The topic isn't going away, so the sooner I can get to the "want to" perspective, the better.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Back to Basics
As 2014 starts we're in a deep freeze of polar air. The first few days after the celebration of the new year have passed, letting the holiday season settle a bit, and yoga classes are starting up again.
I think I can see the direction my practice will take in the coming months. After a couple of years of seeking new challenges and exploring the limits of what I can do, the new direction is to circle back around and focus on some basics again, but in a deeper way.
Two classes I had this week showed me this path. The first was the Yoga I class that I'll be taking for the next 18 weeks as part of my teacher training program. Yoga I is typically the first class that new students take, and I remember the class I started in. I'm fortunate to be in the class of Suzie Hurley, a master teacher at all levels who is the founder of the yoga studio where I practice and is the teacher of most of the teachers. Suzie sold the studio two years ago and retired from the teacher training program, but still teaches several classes. Experiencing yoga I again, I realize that I will get more out of it this time than I did when I took it as my initiation into yoga practice. There are many layers of nuance and precision to the poses that a beginning student simply can't get to, and a strong 90 minute practice will be as challenging as any class.
This morning, due to the frigid overnight temperature which broke a record dating to the 19th century, I was the only one who showed up at 7 am to Anna Karkovska-McGlew's class at Dupont Circle. Anna knows me pretty well since in addition to this Tuesday morning class, I take a class from her at Willow Street. She is an expert in anatomy and problem solving. I took advantage of the one on one time to have her look more deeply at several of my idiosyncracies - such as the pull I get in certain poses on the inside of my right leg above the knee, cramping that occurs regularly in some standing lateral poses, and my lack of much lumbar curve. I left the session with a much better understanding of the causes of the issues and how best to work on them. Some of these have been lurking for a couple of years, and who knows how much longer it would have taken for me to figure them out? Thanks to the Arctic Vortex paying us a visit, I got a significant number of my chronic issues explained, and have the tools to work with them, and eventually past them.
I think I can see the direction my practice will take in the coming months. After a couple of years of seeking new challenges and exploring the limits of what I can do, the new direction is to circle back around and focus on some basics again, but in a deeper way.
Two classes I had this week showed me this path. The first was the Yoga I class that I'll be taking for the next 18 weeks as part of my teacher training program. Yoga I is typically the first class that new students take, and I remember the class I started in. I'm fortunate to be in the class of Suzie Hurley, a master teacher at all levels who is the founder of the yoga studio where I practice and is the teacher of most of the teachers. Suzie sold the studio two years ago and retired from the teacher training program, but still teaches several classes. Experiencing yoga I again, I realize that I will get more out of it this time than I did when I took it as my initiation into yoga practice. There are many layers of nuance and precision to the poses that a beginning student simply can't get to, and a strong 90 minute practice will be as challenging as any class.
This morning, due to the frigid overnight temperature which broke a record dating to the 19th century, I was the only one who showed up at 7 am to Anna Karkovska-McGlew's class at Dupont Circle. Anna knows me pretty well since in addition to this Tuesday morning class, I take a class from her at Willow Street. She is an expert in anatomy and problem solving. I took advantage of the one on one time to have her look more deeply at several of my idiosyncracies - such as the pull I get in certain poses on the inside of my right leg above the knee, cramping that occurs regularly in some standing lateral poses, and my lack of much lumbar curve. I left the session with a much better understanding of the causes of the issues and how best to work on them. Some of these have been lurking for a couple of years, and who knows how much longer it would have taken for me to figure them out? Thanks to the Arctic Vortex paying us a visit, I got a significant number of my chronic issues explained, and have the tools to work with them, and eventually past them.
Monday, January 6, 2014
Visions and Dreams
I'm interested in a couple of things that may be related - or maybe not. At any rate, I'm exploring them at the same time.
One has to do with being able to access visual imagery. I think there have been times in the past when I had visual daydreams, or the ability to see an image in my mind if it was suggested. But I don't seem to have that now, and I'd like to.
The other is being aware of dream imagery. My idea there is more connection between the unconsious/subconscious and conscious. I believe that the deeper layers have a lot of influence on emotions and behavior, and that understanding them better, peeling them back a bit, is important to personal growth.
I have had a couple of recent incidents when I was awake and had distinct visual imagery. In one, I was following a winding road through the woods. In the other, I was in a lab, and watching a hand pick up a tool off the table. I was able to watch each of these images for several seconds.
I have now collected several dozen dream recollections. So far, every dream is very unique in its particulars. Many of them do seem to have common themes. One is that I'm looking for something and can't find it. Another is that I'm in some conflict - though never overtly violent.
One thing I've observed is that I often have a powerful dream in the first 3-4 hours of sleep. I frequently wake up between midnight and 2 am having completed a vivid dream.
I'm hoping for more visualization and dream awareness as the new year progresses.
One has to do with being able to access visual imagery. I think there have been times in the past when I had visual daydreams, or the ability to see an image in my mind if it was suggested. But I don't seem to have that now, and I'd like to.
The other is being aware of dream imagery. My idea there is more connection between the unconsious/subconscious and conscious. I believe that the deeper layers have a lot of influence on emotions and behavior, and that understanding them better, peeling them back a bit, is important to personal growth.
I have had a couple of recent incidents when I was awake and had distinct visual imagery. In one, I was following a winding road through the woods. In the other, I was in a lab, and watching a hand pick up a tool off the table. I was able to watch each of these images for several seconds.
I have now collected several dozen dream recollections. So far, every dream is very unique in its particulars. Many of them do seem to have common themes. One is that I'm looking for something and can't find it. Another is that I'm in some conflict - though never overtly violent.
One thing I've observed is that I often have a powerful dream in the first 3-4 hours of sleep. I frequently wake up between midnight and 2 am having completed a vivid dream.
I'm hoping for more visualization and dream awareness as the new year progresses.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Some Time Ago
Last night we watched the 2011 movie, "The Iron Lady," about British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. The main attraction was actress Meryl Streep, in an Oscar winning performance.
Thatcher was PM during the 1980s. The movie made me realize how little I understood the events of those years - Britain's deep economic problems, riots, the Falklands war, and the IRA bombings. It also seems a long time ago now. I would have read about some of them in the paper or heard reports on the radio or TV news, but the availability of information was much different in those pre-internet days.
I was inspired to go to Wikipedia to read about the IRA bombing of the Grand Hotel in Brighton (which was a very serious assassination attempt on Thatcher and her cabinet), Thatcher herself, and the Falklands war. Losing the war seems to have led to the downfall of the Argentine military regime that carried out so many domestic atrocities in the 1970s. Perhaps that's a positive outcome of what otherwise was a pointless waste of several hundred lives.
I was also inspired to give Wikipedia a donation as I certainly use it a lot.
Many of the things at play in 1980s Britain are still issues today. These include terrorism, the role of nations in an ever connected world, Britain's relationship with the rest of Europe, and the role of government in society (conservatism versus progressivism). Some of these may be with us for a long time to come.
Thatcher was PM during the 1980s. The movie made me realize how little I understood the events of those years - Britain's deep economic problems, riots, the Falklands war, and the IRA bombings. It also seems a long time ago now. I would have read about some of them in the paper or heard reports on the radio or TV news, but the availability of information was much different in those pre-internet days.
I was inspired to go to Wikipedia to read about the IRA bombing of the Grand Hotel in Brighton (which was a very serious assassination attempt on Thatcher and her cabinet), Thatcher herself, and the Falklands war. Losing the war seems to have led to the downfall of the Argentine military regime that carried out so many domestic atrocities in the 1970s. Perhaps that's a positive outcome of what otherwise was a pointless waste of several hundred lives.
I was also inspired to give Wikipedia a donation as I certainly use it a lot.
Many of the things at play in 1980s Britain are still issues today. These include terrorism, the role of nations in an ever connected world, Britain's relationship with the rest of Europe, and the role of government in society (conservatism versus progressivism). Some of these may be with us for a long time to come.
Catching Up Is Hard To Do
With the holiday visits behind, this weekend brings the opportunity to catch up the myriad things that have accumulated over the last couple of weeks and get ready to go back to work tomorrow.
There's nothing particularly difficult - just a lot of it. So the outlook for my day is to stay busy organizing and doing things.
There's nothing particularly difficult - just a lot of it. So the outlook for my day is to stay busy organizing and doing things.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Little People
Over the past couple of weeks, I got to spend time with all 6 grandchildren - ages 1 to 5 and a half. Here's just a sampling of the interesting things that I saw:
Colin beginning to link steps together, learning to walk.
Lucas charging around at full speed with a gleeful grin on his face.
Maeva conversing in English and French, and wanting to brush the cats (who did not want to be brushed by a bilingual 2.5 year old).
Lydia dancing around.
Andrew assembling the take-apart biplane and handing the power driver that came with it - and enjoying flying the little balsa glider.
Rachel playing the role of eldest cousin.
The years ahead are going to be full of learning, fun, and new experiences as the kids develop as little people. I look forward to experiencing some of it with them.
Colin beginning to link steps together, learning to walk.
Lucas charging around at full speed with a gleeful grin on his face.
Maeva conversing in English and French, and wanting to brush the cats (who did not want to be brushed by a bilingual 2.5 year old).
Lydia dancing around.
Andrew assembling the take-apart biplane and handing the power driver that came with it - and enjoying flying the little balsa glider.
Rachel playing the role of eldest cousin.
The years ahead are going to be full of learning, fun, and new experiences as the kids develop as little people. I look forward to experiencing some of it with them.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
A Bit Humbling
Tanya, Sylvain, Maeva and I headed downtown on the metro today to see the White House and the National Museum of American History. The first exhibit we went to was about Thomas Edison, and had lots of equipment in it from the early days of building devices that exploited Michael Faraday's discovery of electromagnetism.
Seeing early examples of electric motors and generators built by a number of different people, and thinking about the skills, time and ingenuity needed to do that some 150 years ago, was very impressive to me. I have no ability to do that kind of work, and a part of me wishes that I could.
I read an article about Elon Musk recently. He has had success with an internet company (Paypal), a commercial space company (SpaceX) and a startup automobile company (Tesla Motors). Educated in both physics and business, he has a unique ability to see and solve problems differently from most people. He said that when thinking about a new thing, he doesn't focus on what others have already done, but works more from basic knowledge of physics, chemistry, etc.
The museum is filled with the products of human creativity and craftsmanship. Seeing that through the sweep of the past 200 years of so, the leading edge is always moving ahead, and people are continually building on what has come before. Occasionally there's a significant advance that jumps things up to a new plateau.
One exhibit is of a John Bull steam engine. This crude train engine was brought from England to the U.S. in 1831. With it, the time needed to travel from New York to Washington was reduced from two days to five hours. My first reaction to the exhibit quote from the time that the engine had shattered previous limits of time and space was that they had no idea. But then I realized that 180 years later, it still takes about that much time to make the trip. By car it is 4 hours, by train perhaps 3 and a half, and while a plane is much faster, the time getting in and out of the airport would easily make a normal trip that long. So we're still waiting on the next big leap of getting from here to there. A bit humbling.
Seeing early examples of electric motors and generators built by a number of different people, and thinking about the skills, time and ingenuity needed to do that some 150 years ago, was very impressive to me. I have no ability to do that kind of work, and a part of me wishes that I could.
I read an article about Elon Musk recently. He has had success with an internet company (Paypal), a commercial space company (SpaceX) and a startup automobile company (Tesla Motors). Educated in both physics and business, he has a unique ability to see and solve problems differently from most people. He said that when thinking about a new thing, he doesn't focus on what others have already done, but works more from basic knowledge of physics, chemistry, etc.
The museum is filled with the products of human creativity and craftsmanship. Seeing that through the sweep of the past 200 years of so, the leading edge is always moving ahead, and people are continually building on what has come before. Occasionally there's a significant advance that jumps things up to a new plateau.
One exhibit is of a John Bull steam engine. This crude train engine was brought from England to the U.S. in 1831. With it, the time needed to travel from New York to Washington was reduced from two days to five hours. My first reaction to the exhibit quote from the time that the engine had shattered previous limits of time and space was that they had no idea. But then I realized that 180 years later, it still takes about that much time to make the trip. By car it is 4 hours, by train perhaps 3 and a half, and while a plane is much faster, the time getting in and out of the airport would easily make a normal trip that long. So we're still waiting on the next big leap of getting from here to there. A bit humbling.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
New Years Adventures
At the macro level, my New Years' Day for 2014 consisted of getting up early, driving 4 hours to Pittsburgh, delivering some late Christmas presents to the 3 grandchildren there, picking up Tanya and her family, driving 4 hours back to Silver Spring, grabbing a quick snack, heading downtown on the Metro to watch a Wizards basketball game at the Verizon center, and after the game, coming home.
Not my usual day off. In between the big stuff, there were many smaller things. Like showing up in Pittsburgh and seeing two families that I had left in Oklahoma just a few days before. I imagine the kids thinking that grandpa is everywhere. Lydia wanted to play with some party balloons - she remembered from our trip last summer when we had played with some balloons they happened to have. I'm amazed at their ability to remember things like that - though why shouldn't they?
Colin wanted to climb the stairs, so I supervised while he did that - Maeva came along too. A little before noon we headed out for the drive back to Silver Spring. When I drove up, early on New Years' morning, the roads were almost deserted. At a couple of the Pennsylvania Turnpike rest stops, I could count the number of cars on one hand. But by the time of the return traffic, there was quite a bit of traffic, and dozens of cars at the rest stops. I was glad that the traffic wasn't heavier, as we were able to get back in plenty of time to make the 6 o'clock game start.
The Verizon Center is about the easiest arena imaginable to get too - steps from the Gallery Place Metro stop on the Red Line, which runs through Silver Spring. Yet in 10 years living here, I'd never been to an event there. Tanya and Sylvain wanted to see a pro sports game while they are here, and the January 1 game between the Wizards and the Dallas Mavericks was the only possibility.
It's worth going to a game, if for no other reason than to wonder why so many people like to go to them. It is quite a spectacle - a variety show of sorts - with dancers, singers, acrobats, blimps, music, lights, food that can't possibly be good for you, and some overgrown men in shorts running around with a ball. In the end, one team had more points than the other, and we all went home.
Now everyone is settled in for the night - except me and I'm headed that way. Tomorrow we'll have some more adventures.
Not my usual day off. In between the big stuff, there were many smaller things. Like showing up in Pittsburgh and seeing two families that I had left in Oklahoma just a few days before. I imagine the kids thinking that grandpa is everywhere. Lydia wanted to play with some party balloons - she remembered from our trip last summer when we had played with some balloons they happened to have. I'm amazed at their ability to remember things like that - though why shouldn't they?
Colin wanted to climb the stairs, so I supervised while he did that - Maeva came along too. A little before noon we headed out for the drive back to Silver Spring. When I drove up, early on New Years' morning, the roads were almost deserted. At a couple of the Pennsylvania Turnpike rest stops, I could count the number of cars on one hand. But by the time of the return traffic, there was quite a bit of traffic, and dozens of cars at the rest stops. I was glad that the traffic wasn't heavier, as we were able to get back in plenty of time to make the 6 o'clock game start.
The Verizon Center is about the easiest arena imaginable to get too - steps from the Gallery Place Metro stop on the Red Line, which runs through Silver Spring. Yet in 10 years living here, I'd never been to an event there. Tanya and Sylvain wanted to see a pro sports game while they are here, and the January 1 game between the Wizards and the Dallas Mavericks was the only possibility.
It's worth going to a game, if for no other reason than to wonder why so many people like to go to them. It is quite a spectacle - a variety show of sorts - with dancers, singers, acrobats, blimps, music, lights, food that can't possibly be good for you, and some overgrown men in shorts running around with a ball. In the end, one team had more points than the other, and we all went home.
Now everyone is settled in for the night - except me and I'm headed that way. Tomorrow we'll have some more adventures.
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