Always have a Plan B. If I don't, and Plan A isn't working - for example, my attempt tonight to scan an important document and email it - I feel a lot of frustration and stress. With a Plan B, I can just let it go - it either works tonight or it doesn't - and I'll move on.
Now, one more try... restarted the scanner - doing exactly the same things I did last time - when it worked perfectly - hmm...
On to Plan B.
My original Plan B was to take the document and scan it tomorrow. Then I realized there was another way I could try tonight, and as it turns out, that worked.
So, as it turns out, I had several options so long as I avoided taking the frustration exit and continued to look for a solution.
Monday, March 31, 2014
Sunday, March 30, 2014
In Due Time
I was reminded twice today of the need to be patient, to let things develop, and emerge when they are ready.
Since deciding to compose a piece for two saxophones for a concert coming up on April 27, I have been struggling to capture good ideas and develop them into a finished piece. Continually falling behind where I think I should be in the process, I look at the calendar and wonder if I will possibly complete it in time.
I came back from Puerto Rico with another idea in my head, and have worked it over for the past couple of days, playing it on the piano, writing pieces down, leaving it, then coming back to revisit it. This evening I entered a good bit of music into my compositional software and feel that I've made another big step in reentering the composing process after a year away. There's no point in trying to force it out - it will come when it's ready. I need to spend my energy on the activities - like regular playing - that allow the ideas to ferment.
Another struggle was scheduling a trip to Oklahoma to see Dad, and Evan's family. I began thinking about this right after Christmas, and thought I would go in March. March approached, and the calendar filled up, so I picked a week in April. But today, as I searched online for a ticket, I wasn't happy with the pricing, and felt the pressure of a busy April schedule as well - with income tax filing due and the upcoming concert. So I looked ahead, and found an open week near the end of May. Ticket prices and flight options were better, and the trip won't add any pressure to any other commitments.
When things aren't working, it's worth considering giving up on the expectation and stepping back for a fresh start. There's a time for everything, and it's better to go with that flow than to force what isn't quite ready yet.
Since deciding to compose a piece for two saxophones for a concert coming up on April 27, I have been struggling to capture good ideas and develop them into a finished piece. Continually falling behind where I think I should be in the process, I look at the calendar and wonder if I will possibly complete it in time.
I came back from Puerto Rico with another idea in my head, and have worked it over for the past couple of days, playing it on the piano, writing pieces down, leaving it, then coming back to revisit it. This evening I entered a good bit of music into my compositional software and feel that I've made another big step in reentering the composing process after a year away. There's no point in trying to force it out - it will come when it's ready. I need to spend my energy on the activities - like regular playing - that allow the ideas to ferment.
Another struggle was scheduling a trip to Oklahoma to see Dad, and Evan's family. I began thinking about this right after Christmas, and thought I would go in March. March approached, and the calendar filled up, so I picked a week in April. But today, as I searched online for a ticket, I wasn't happy with the pricing, and felt the pressure of a busy April schedule as well - with income tax filing due and the upcoming concert. So I looked ahead, and found an open week near the end of May. Ticket prices and flight options were better, and the trip won't add any pressure to any other commitments.
When things aren't working, it's worth considering giving up on the expectation and stepping back for a fresh start. There's a time for everything, and it's better to go with that flow than to force what isn't quite ready yet.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
Dampened Energy
Saturday. I'm back from Puerto Rico to a damp, early spring day. Light rain has been falling all day - I hear it dripping from the eaves, and spinning from the tires of a car that just went down the street.
I spent most of the afternoon sleeping. I seem to have come done with an upper chest infection. I had some symptoms in Puerto Rico that I thought might be allergies, but I'm now thinking it's a respiratory virus.
I notice how much my energy is drawn inward, how I have to deliberately gather myself to do a task - even to write a blog post. I feel as if I'm pulling myself up out of a pool for a short while, then, once that energy is exhausted, slipping back in. I know that I need the rest, and accept that today, my energy is heavy and dampened, much like the world outside, soaking in the cool spring rain.
I spent most of the afternoon sleeping. I seem to have come done with an upper chest infection. I had some symptoms in Puerto Rico that I thought might be allergies, but I'm now thinking it's a respiratory virus.
I notice how much my energy is drawn inward, how I have to deliberately gather myself to do a task - even to write a blog post. I feel as if I'm pulling myself up out of a pool for a short while, then, once that energy is exhausted, slipping back in. I know that I need the rest, and accept that today, my energy is heavy and dampened, much like the world outside, soaking in the cool spring rain.
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Stars, Sea and Sky
Condado, San Juan, PR. Last night was dark and quiet, save for a small group out late (or early) on the beach. The pulse of the ocean is always present in the background.
I woke at 3 am. I could see gray cloud puffs hanging in the sky just offshore, and opened the window to look out. The sky was pitch black, the ocean surface leaden. Against this dark backdrop, white foam from the surf pushed up onto the sand and melted back into the sea. The band of clouds, faintly lit by light from the city drifted toward the west.
Points of starlight dot the sky. To the left, the Big Dipper rotated up to the left, the lower two stars pointing to Polaris, considerably lower down toward the horizon than I am used to. To the east are the Summer Triangle stars - Deneb, Vega and Altair.
The scene had incredible balance. At the top, the stillness of the stars. Midway, the dimly lit clouds floating slowly past, bringing a sense of building energy. Anchoring the scene with the most light and the most energy was the constant pulse of waves rolling in and foaming across the beach, the ocean more settled in the early morning, but still deeply powerful.
I watched for a while, then went back to sleep.
I woke at 3 am. I could see gray cloud puffs hanging in the sky just offshore, and opened the window to look out. The sky was pitch black, the ocean surface leaden. Against this dark backdrop, white foam from the surf pushed up onto the sand and melted back into the sea. The band of clouds, faintly lit by light from the city drifted toward the west.
Points of starlight dot the sky. To the left, the Big Dipper rotated up to the left, the lower two stars pointing to Polaris, considerably lower down toward the horizon than I am used to. To the east are the Summer Triangle stars - Deneb, Vega and Altair.
The scene had incredible balance. At the top, the stillness of the stars. Midway, the dimly lit clouds floating slowly past, bringing a sense of building energy. Anchoring the scene with the most light and the most energy was the constant pulse of waves rolling in and foaming across the beach, the ocean more settled in the early morning, but still deeply powerful.
I watched for a while, then went back to sleep.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Sunrise and Source
Early morning, looking over the ocean to the east. The rising sun paints a bright orange streak across the surface. A gentle swell rolls in, sending surges of foam up on the sand. The water reflects the slowly lightening sky with a thousand facets and shades of blue and gray.
As I sat, breathing and watching, my mind gradually settled and synchronized to the pulse of the ocean. Every wave coming in on the shore was unique, differing in size, angle at which it rolled in, and relationship in time and space to waves before and after.
Eventually, I felt less an observer of the waves, and more as if the energy of the waves was surging and ebbing within me. When I turned away, I felt as if I had become unplugged from a source.
As I sat, breathing and watching, my mind gradually settled and synchronized to the pulse of the ocean. Every wave coming in on the shore was unique, differing in size, angle at which it rolled in, and relationship in time and space to waves before and after.
Eventually, I felt less an observer of the waves, and more as if the energy of the waves was surging and ebbing within me. When I turned away, I felt as if I had become unplugged from a source.
Monday, March 24, 2014
Surf and Sand
I'm in Puerto Rico for a few days. The high humidity of islands in the ocean is the first thing I noticed. After finishing a series of 3 hour-long conference calls, it was time to stop work, and the shadows were growing longer, making me more confident about getting out in the sun.
I walked up the street a little over a mile, headed for a yoga studio that I wanted to locate. On the way, I passed a park that gave access to the beach, so on the way back, I stopped off there. I walked out to the sand, took my shoes off, and then wondered if I could follow the beach all the way back to the hotel.
Turns out, I could. I had to put my shoes on to cross one rock outcrop, but otherwise enjoyed walking through the edge of the waves rolling up the beach, foaming around my feet.
I walked up the street a little over a mile, headed for a yoga studio that I wanted to locate. On the way, I passed a park that gave access to the beach, so on the way back, I stopped off there. I walked out to the sand, took my shoes off, and then wondered if I could follow the beach all the way back to the hotel.
Turns out, I could. I had to put my shoes on to cross one rock outcrop, but otherwise enjoyed walking through the edge of the waves rolling up the beach, foaming around my feet.
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Saxophones
I'm writing a piece of music for two saxophones. If it comes together, Pam and I will perform it at the end of April at the spring concert of a composers group I belong to - the Composers Society of Montgomery County.
It has been over a year since my last piece - which was for piano and brass trio - and did not get a good performance. We needed more rehearsal - thought we had it - but things fell apart in performance. That experience took away my interest in composing for awhile.
I decided to write a piece that Pam and I could play. We have more control over the performance, and can put in more rehearsal time. But after being away from composing for over a year, I found my skills rusty, and it has taken more time than I expected to bring my mind back into that space.
Tonight we had a first run-through of the music I have written so far. It isn't a performable piece yet - just a set of thematic sketches and ideas. We tripped over a lot of notes, but it was fun to play and hear the two saxophones - an alto and a bari. This will be the first time we've played those two instruments together.
Lots of work to do before the piece is finished, but it is great to hear it live and fun to play. I'm optimistic!
It has been over a year since my last piece - which was for piano and brass trio - and did not get a good performance. We needed more rehearsal - thought we had it - but things fell apart in performance. That experience took away my interest in composing for awhile.
I decided to write a piece that Pam and I could play. We have more control over the performance, and can put in more rehearsal time. But after being away from composing for over a year, I found my skills rusty, and it has taken more time than I expected to bring my mind back into that space.
Tonight we had a first run-through of the music I have written so far. It isn't a performable piece yet - just a set of thematic sketches and ideas. We tripped over a lot of notes, but it was fun to play and hear the two saxophones - an alto and a bari. This will be the first time we've played those two instruments together.
Lots of work to do before the piece is finished, but it is great to hear it live and fun to play. I'm optimistic!
Saturday, March 22, 2014
A Little Time Outside
Today warmed into the middle 60s. I went out with no particular plan in mind - just wanting to see how warm it was and what it felt like.
I ended up picking up small branches that the storms had knocked from the trees, pulling a few weeds from the garden spot, and noticing dozens of divots in the yard where squirrels were digging for food. I checked for signs of life on the shrubs, and saw that the deer had chomped another small branch from the fig tree. I suspect they would have demolished the whole tree if we didn't have some wire tomato cages strategically placed around it.
I ended up beneath the big tulip poplars on the east side of the house, pulling up English ivy. We had taken it out several years ago, but it has gradually crept back. It was easy pulling - the ground wet and soft from the recently melted snow. I disturbed a nest of small ants that were streaming around under the leaf litter. Pulling up the ivy disturbed the earth, releasing the rich smell of humus.
It was a very pleasant way to spend the middle of the afternoon and connect with the gathering, wakening life of spring that will soon be bursting forth.
I ended up picking up small branches that the storms had knocked from the trees, pulling a few weeds from the garden spot, and noticing dozens of divots in the yard where squirrels were digging for food. I checked for signs of life on the shrubs, and saw that the deer had chomped another small branch from the fig tree. I suspect they would have demolished the whole tree if we didn't have some wire tomato cages strategically placed around it.
I ended up beneath the big tulip poplars on the east side of the house, pulling up English ivy. We had taken it out several years ago, but it has gradually crept back. It was easy pulling - the ground wet and soft from the recently melted snow. I disturbed a nest of small ants that were streaming around under the leaf litter. Pulling up the ivy disturbed the earth, releasing the rich smell of humus.
It was a very pleasant way to spend the middle of the afternoon and connect with the gathering, wakening life of spring that will soon be bursting forth.
Friday, March 21, 2014
Settling Down
Friday evening.
Mind is turned inward, not thinking, blank, attention focused on the think "chk" sound of a clock ticking off seconds. I guess it has been a draining week.
A dog barks - then another, farther off. Our neighborhood isn't one with a lot of barking dogs, and these two soon settle down.
I'm looking forward to settling down for a good night's sleep too.
Mind is turned inward, not thinking, blank, attention focused on the think "chk" sound of a clock ticking off seconds. I guess it has been a draining week.
A dog barks - then another, farther off. Our neighborhood isn't one with a lot of barking dogs, and these two soon settle down.
I'm looking forward to settling down for a good night's sleep too.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Oh Spring, Where Art Thou?
March 20. On the calendar, the start of spring. This year, spring seems to have missed the train, had a flat tire, overslept, missed its connection - or something like that.
Those waiting for spring flowers and budding trees should stop holding their breath. I read this morning that growing things are about three weeks behind normal this year, and one result of the long delay is that when things do pop out, it will be a sudden show - a simultaneous bursting forth of buds and blooms - layering on the early spring and later emerging plants all at once.
When that happens, it will be amazing, and the long winter will be soon forgotten. Until then, one can only be patient. Nature doesn't respond to my expectations. Aligning to the reality of the world is my job.
Those waiting for spring flowers and budding trees should stop holding their breath. I read this morning that growing things are about three weeks behind normal this year, and one result of the long delay is that when things do pop out, it will be a sudden show - a simultaneous bursting forth of buds and blooms - layering on the early spring and later emerging plants all at once.
When that happens, it will be amazing, and the long winter will be soon forgotten. Until then, one can only be patient. Nature doesn't respond to my expectations. Aligning to the reality of the world is my job.
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Little Things
Today was chilly, breezy and wet, and I had to do more walking than normal.
I also got to see a tree, branches lined with sparkling water droplets, and play peek-a-boo around the trunk of another tree with a squirrel - lightning quick - that would only let me get a brief glimpse of one eye before scurrying around and out of sight.
This morning, I had another experience revealing how selectively I see. I delight in seeing shadow patterns, such as tree shadows on window shades. I have no idea why, but I find them fascinating and compelling. This morning, standing near the kitchen sink, I noticed a subtle but distinct shadow pattern cast on the floor by my slat backed oak chair, from the light above the table. Long, curving arcs of light spread across the floor. I have lived here for 10 years, and been in that room with that furniture and lighting thousands of times - but this is the first time I have noticed that pattern with conscious attention.
I also got to see a tree, branches lined with sparkling water droplets, and play peek-a-boo around the trunk of another tree with a squirrel - lightning quick - that would only let me get a brief glimpse of one eye before scurrying around and out of sight.
This morning, I had another experience revealing how selectively I see. I delight in seeing shadow patterns, such as tree shadows on window shades. I have no idea why, but I find them fascinating and compelling. This morning, standing near the kitchen sink, I noticed a subtle but distinct shadow pattern cast on the floor by my slat backed oak chair, from the light above the table. Long, curving arcs of light spread across the floor. I have lived here for 10 years, and been in that room with that furniture and lighting thousands of times - but this is the first time I have noticed that pattern with conscious attention.
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
People
My work involves a wide variety of things - managing people, administrative tasks, keeping track of tasks, writing, editing, reviewing, analysis, communicating with constituents - are some of the things I regularly do.
I spent many years doing programming, database development, and data analysis. I enjoy problem solving and still enjoy that kind of work. But as I pay attention to what I enjoy most at work, and what I enjoy least, I find that what gives me the most satisfaction is personal communication with one person or a small group. The thing I enjoy least is almost anything done sitting in front of the computer - unless it's a specific task with some intellectual challenge or creativity involved - such as analyzing some information or developing a presentation to give.
I have a number of opportunities over the next few weeks to meet with some interesting people and explore some emerging issues and new opportunities in fisheries management, and I'm very much looking forward to it.
I spent many years doing programming, database development, and data analysis. I enjoy problem solving and still enjoy that kind of work. But as I pay attention to what I enjoy most at work, and what I enjoy least, I find that what gives me the most satisfaction is personal communication with one person or a small group. The thing I enjoy least is almost anything done sitting in front of the computer - unless it's a specific task with some intellectual challenge or creativity involved - such as analyzing some information or developing a presentation to give.
I have a number of opportunities over the next few weeks to meet with some interesting people and explore some emerging issues and new opportunities in fisheries management, and I'm very much looking forward to it.
Monday, March 17, 2014
Frantic Foraging
We had 6 inches or so of snow last night. After a weekend that was very springlike and warm, this was quite a shock to the world. I shoveled the driveway after breakfast and throughout the day the thin layer that remained melted off. Even though the air temperature was above freezing, there was heat stored up in the pavement.
Later in the day, looking out the kitchen window, I saw robins over by the side of the neighbor's house, where a few patches of bare ground appeared along the foundation. There was also a small snow free path cleared by their dog exercising activity, and the robins were busy there as well. I realized this was a flock that had been caught by the storm, and they were foraging in the tiny spots available to them.
When we opened the garage door to go out in the evening, Pam asked if I had dug out the crack between the driveway and garage slabs. For several inches on either side, leaves, twigs and dirt were scattered around. Then we noticed the same detritus lining each of the slab joints down the driveway. I immediately recognized this as the work of the frantically foraging robins, looking for some food anywhere they could possibly work the soil.
Later in the day, looking out the kitchen window, I saw robins over by the side of the neighbor's house, where a few patches of bare ground appeared along the foundation. There was also a small snow free path cleared by their dog exercising activity, and the robins were busy there as well. I realized this was a flock that had been caught by the storm, and they were foraging in the tiny spots available to them.
When we opened the garage door to go out in the evening, Pam asked if I had dug out the crack between the driveway and garage slabs. For several inches on either side, leaves, twigs and dirt were scattered around. Then we noticed the same detritus lining each of the slab joints down the driveway. I immediately recognized this as the work of the frantically foraging robins, looking for some food anywhere they could possibly work the soil.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Dufflebag
For several days, I've been working on a post about awareness. I've had several moments of clarity about how the quality of my awareness creates the quality of my life experience. But this is not the post about awareness.
Well, in a way it is. I became aware this weekend that, over the past two to three months, I had allowed my focus and organization of things to unravel too far. Though I have a couple of things I particularly need to do - one is taxes for 2013 and the other is composing for an upcoming concert - I needed more to spend several hours this afternoon reviewing, ridding, and reorganizing the portfolio of things that I carry around.
These vary from work tasks, to yoga notes and ideas about teaching, to medical and financial paperwork I'm handling for Dad, to planning for coming trips, things I'm saving to read when I have more focused time, and more. They are things I'm interested in, or feel obligated to do, and each of them represents an intention to spend some amount of future time to read, make a phone call, send an email, or take some other action to either resolve an issue or plan in more detail.
To some degree, this dufflebag full of odds and ends is my future. It is what I will be paying attention to, and how I will be spending my time. If I want a rich life of meaningful relationships and experiences, what I choose to put in the dufflebag is really important.
Well, in a way it is. I became aware this weekend that, over the past two to three months, I had allowed my focus and organization of things to unravel too far. Though I have a couple of things I particularly need to do - one is taxes for 2013 and the other is composing for an upcoming concert - I needed more to spend several hours this afternoon reviewing, ridding, and reorganizing the portfolio of things that I carry around.
These vary from work tasks, to yoga notes and ideas about teaching, to medical and financial paperwork I'm handling for Dad, to planning for coming trips, things I'm saving to read when I have more focused time, and more. They are things I'm interested in, or feel obligated to do, and each of them represents an intention to spend some amount of future time to read, make a phone call, send an email, or take some other action to either resolve an issue or plan in more detail.
To some degree, this dufflebag full of odds and ends is my future. It is what I will be paying attention to, and how I will be spending my time. If I want a rich life of meaningful relationships and experiences, what I choose to put in the dufflebag is really important.
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Cold, Howling Winds, and Shelter
The Capital Weather Gang say "Here comes a night of cold howling winds and plummeting temperatures." "Gusts may reach 45-55 mph, possibly leading to some power outages."
I would describe the sound of the wind in the trees as a roar. It rises and falls in intensity, but never disappears entirely. It has been quite a while since we've had wind this strong, and it is predicted to continue for several hours, bringing much colder temperatures by morning.
The tulip poplars beside the house reach up into the wind perhaps 80 or 90 feet. They should withstand the onslaught because they aren't yet leafed out, nor are they loaded up with snow or ice. Still, I expect to find a number of branches down throughout the neighborhood when I walk to work in the morning.
Weather like this emphasizes the nature of home as shelter, rather than just a comfortable place to be.
I would describe the sound of the wind in the trees as a roar. It rises and falls in intensity, but never disappears entirely. It has been quite a while since we've had wind this strong, and it is predicted to continue for several hours, bringing much colder temperatures by morning.
The tulip poplars beside the house reach up into the wind perhaps 80 or 90 feet. They should withstand the onslaught because they aren't yet leafed out, nor are they loaded up with snow or ice. Still, I expect to find a number of branches down throughout the neighborhood when I walk to work in the morning.
Weather like this emphasizes the nature of home as shelter, rather than just a comfortable place to be.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Battle of the Seasons
A common conversation topic lately has been the unusual amount of cold weather and show we've had. A week ago Monday we had 6 inches of snow. Today it was near 70 degrees, and tomorrow is forecast to be as warm. For a while. Then a cold front will come through dropping temperatures in half and bringing high winds and thunderstorms before the cold settles in for an overnight low in the low 20s.
Meanwhile, in the past day or two the crocuses have shot up out of the ground. They may wish they had waited a few days.
This is an unsettled time of year, a time of transition. Winter is trying to hold on, and spring is working hard to push winter back for another year.
It is hard to stay grounded in life when the environment around is changing so quickly. Even dressing for the day tomorrow will be a challenge. I'll take an extra layer or two with me when I walk to work in the morning -- and an umbrella. All that is likely to be needed by evening when I come home. It's an opportunity to stay in the present, and enjoy whatever conditions prevail. One thing is certain - they will change again soon.
Meanwhile, in the past day or two the crocuses have shot up out of the ground. They may wish they had waited a few days.
This is an unsettled time of year, a time of transition. Winter is trying to hold on, and spring is working hard to push winter back for another year.
It is hard to stay grounded in life when the environment around is changing so quickly. Even dressing for the day tomorrow will be a challenge. I'll take an extra layer or two with me when I walk to work in the morning -- and an umbrella. All that is likely to be needed by evening when I come home. It's an opportunity to stay in the present, and enjoy whatever conditions prevail. One thing is certain - they will change again soon.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Saving the Daylight
We "sprang forward" yesterday, setting the clocks ahead an hour. As a consequence, it is darker for an hour more in the morning but lighter later at night.
The first impact was the disruption in the rhythm on Sunday. "Losing" an hour of sleep got the day off to a feeling of imbalance that never completely went away. I went to bed early in hopes of catching up, but slept fitfully and with lots of quite vivid and strange dreams.
Today the walk to work was pleasant - the robins were back - and there was a new chorus echoing through the neighborhood - the drumming of woodpeckers coming from all directions. When I left work, the shift - to a point about an hour earlier in the true day - was noticeable. The light was bright - not yet beginning to fade into evening.
Is this disjointed leap ahead in time worth it in the end? I'm not convinced. The days are getting longer and in a few weeks we would naturally end up with these longer evenings. I think I'd rather just let things evolve as the Earth comes around the sun, relatively tilting back toward the stream of energy that warms up the planet and brings on the spring.
The first impact was the disruption in the rhythm on Sunday. "Losing" an hour of sleep got the day off to a feeling of imbalance that never completely went away. I went to bed early in hopes of catching up, but slept fitfully and with lots of quite vivid and strange dreams.
Today the walk to work was pleasant - the robins were back - and there was a new chorus echoing through the neighborhood - the drumming of woodpeckers coming from all directions. When I left work, the shift - to a point about an hour earlier in the true day - was noticeable. The light was bright - not yet beginning to fade into evening.
Is this disjointed leap ahead in time worth it in the end? I'm not convinced. The days are getting longer and in a few weeks we would naturally end up with these longer evenings. I think I'd rather just let things evolve as the Earth comes around the sun, relatively tilting back toward the stream of energy that warms up the planet and brings on the spring.
Sunday, March 9, 2014
Sun and Breath
This morning as I was in the kitchen getting the normal things started - food for the cats and a pot of coffee - I looked out the window at the light from the morning sun on the bricks of the house next door.
Bright, warm, sunlight. The source of all the energy that makes life on this planet. People in times past were right to recognize the sun as the life-giving power, as a god. We take it for granted now, because we understand it not as a personified power, but as a huge gas ball in the sky that fuses hydrogen into helium and emits great amounts of energy.
But it isn't like a light bulb in the sky that provides us with some conviences. It is the source. We exist only because of it, and when it stops producing energy we, or whatever life is extant at that time, will cease to exist.
As I thought about the integrating source of the sun for all life, I took a breath. Without the constant replenishment of oxygen in the air, a process driven, as is everything, by the sun's energy, I would not live more than a few moments. Where did the oxygen I breath this minute come from? I have no way to know, and no control over it. It is there as part of the world that supports my existence - the world I am part of - and have no separate existence from.
Bright, warm, sunlight. The source of all the energy that makes life on this planet. People in times past were right to recognize the sun as the life-giving power, as a god. We take it for granted now, because we understand it not as a personified power, but as a huge gas ball in the sky that fuses hydrogen into helium and emits great amounts of energy.
But it isn't like a light bulb in the sky that provides us with some conviences. It is the source. We exist only because of it, and when it stops producing energy we, or whatever life is extant at that time, will cease to exist.
As I thought about the integrating source of the sun for all life, I took a breath. Without the constant replenishment of oxygen in the air, a process driven, as is everything, by the sun's energy, I would not live more than a few moments. Where did the oxygen I breath this minute come from? I have no way to know, and no control over it. It is there as part of the world that supports my existence - the world I am part of - and have no separate existence from.
Friday, March 7, 2014
Here, and Not Here
I walked home from work today a little after 4 pm - quite a bit earlier than normal. As a consequence, there was a different bustle along the streets - a group of teenagers getting off a city bus, police cars parked, lights flashing, by an office building, workmen on projects, not yet off for the day.
As I walked, my attention drifted from the here and now - noticing what was happening around me, feeling the cool breeze on my face, seeing the damp sidewalk around the patches of melting snow - to the not here, as my mind latched onto some thought about the coming weekend, or a family member in another city, or news from the Ukraine.
The term, "lost in thought," is very apt. Meanwhile, the neighborhood was passing by, all the sense data from the sights and sounds still streaming in, but being deflected by my mind, like an email server shunting messages into a spam folder.
Then the mind would shift again, and I would realize that my mind had taken me elsewhere. Interesting that I don't recognize that while it is happening, only after something catches me and directs me back ton the present, here and now.
As I walked, my attention drifted from the here and now - noticing what was happening around me, feeling the cool breeze on my face, seeing the damp sidewalk around the patches of melting snow - to the not here, as my mind latched onto some thought about the coming weekend, or a family member in another city, or news from the Ukraine.
The term, "lost in thought," is very apt. Meanwhile, the neighborhood was passing by, all the sense data from the sights and sounds still streaming in, but being deflected by my mind, like an email server shunting messages into a spam folder.
Then the mind would shift again, and I would realize that my mind had taken me elsewhere. Interesting that I don't recognize that while it is happening, only after something catches me and directs me back ton the present, here and now.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
The Cardinals Say Spring is Coming
I set out early this morning for a 6:30 yoga class before work. This being late winter, just before we change the clocks forward for spring and lose an hour of daylight in the morning, the sky was getting light.
Even though the ground is covered in snow and the temperature was 19 degrees F, I could hear multiple cardinals singing to stake out their territories, their songs loud and clear in the still, cold air.
The more fair-weather birds, including the robins, have been pushed out by the bitter cold air. But the hardy cardinals have stuck it out. They know that spring is around the corner, and they're letting the world know about it.
Even though the ground is covered in snow and the temperature was 19 degrees F, I could hear multiple cardinals singing to stake out their territories, their songs loud and clear in the still, cold air.
The more fair-weather birds, including the robins, have been pushed out by the bitter cold air. But the hardy cardinals have stuck it out. They know that spring is around the corner, and they're letting the world know about it.
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Evening Sky
Even though the snow and temperatures in the teens say "winter," the changing light is calling out "spring." Walking this evening, from work to the metro station, I noticed several jet contrails in the sky. Two were at perfect right angles, forming a cross against the blue evening sky.
Over in the southwest, the sky was peach hued with the setting sun. Standing on the platform waiting for the train, I noticed more contrails - the atmospheric conditions up at 30,000 feet must have been perfect. I could see blue sky behind a wispy layer of cloud.
Then I noticed that everything in the sky was moving. The contrails laid out by jets long gone from view were sliding quickly from southwest to northeast. There was no wind at ground level, but major airflow higher up. I watched one contrail appear from behind a building and move at an angle, both toward me and across the sky to the east. Far above it was the moon - just a tiny sliver lit - and barely contrasting with the gradually deepening sky.
My train came and I got on for the perhaps three minute ride to Takoma. When I emerged from the station and looked up, the sky was completely different, so quickly was the air moving.
Over in the southwest, the sky was peach hued with the setting sun. Standing on the platform waiting for the train, I noticed more contrails - the atmospheric conditions up at 30,000 feet must have been perfect. I could see blue sky behind a wispy layer of cloud.
Then I noticed that everything in the sky was moving. The contrails laid out by jets long gone from view were sliding quickly from southwest to northeast. There was no wind at ground level, but major airflow higher up. I watched one contrail appear from behind a building and move at an angle, both toward me and across the sky to the east. Far above it was the moon - just a tiny sliver lit - and barely contrasting with the gradually deepening sky.
My train came and I got on for the perhaps three minute ride to Takoma. When I emerged from the station and looked up, the sky was completely different, so quickly was the air moving.
Monday, March 3, 2014
Snowfall
It snowed most of the day today. Sometimes tiny flakes, sometimes larger. Sometimes snowing heavily, other times lightly. Sometimes falling gently, other times with gusty winds driving the snow up the street and between the houses.
And it is cold. The low tonight is forecast to be 3 degrees F. To think that a couple of weeks ago I was commenting on the songbirds behaving as if spring was around the corner. I hope they've gone someplace warm for a few days.
I shoveled the drive mid-day. A little more has fallen, but it is very light and powdery, so it won't be hard to touch up. The street was plowed this evening. I'll need to shovel out the berm tomorrow so we can get the car out.
A couple of friends have been sending photos from Costa Rica. Good planning on their part! Although I have to say that even though we've had much more snow and cold weather than usual, I've enjoyed the winter, and remember how much fun I used to have skiing.
Spring will be beautiful when it comes, with magnolia blooms and azaleas of all colors. But I will miss the crisp, clean, whiteness of the winter snow. All is beautiful.
And it is cold. The low tonight is forecast to be 3 degrees F. To think that a couple of weeks ago I was commenting on the songbirds behaving as if spring was around the corner. I hope they've gone someplace warm for a few days.
I shoveled the drive mid-day. A little more has fallen, but it is very light and powdery, so it won't be hard to touch up. The street was plowed this evening. I'll need to shovel out the berm tomorrow so we can get the car out.
A couple of friends have been sending photos from Costa Rica. Good planning on their part! Although I have to say that even though we've had much more snow and cold weather than usual, I've enjoyed the winter, and remember how much fun I used to have skiing.
Spring will be beautiful when it comes, with magnolia blooms and azaleas of all colors. But I will miss the crisp, clean, whiteness of the winter snow. All is beautiful.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Making Music
Over the past half year or so I have been slowly easing back into music. My various musical ventures - trumpet, saxophone, piano, and composing - have generally taken a back seat to my yoga practice. Now my interest is returning. I have been playing the piano more of late, relearning some pieces I wrote years ago, and working on my improvisation skills and technique.
A few weeks ago I decided to compose a piece for two saxophones for the April concert of the composers society that I belong to. Today I got out my baritone saxophone for the first time in several years to blow out the cobwebs and begin working on ideas for the composition. I was reminded of how much I enjoy the process of capturing musical ideas and building them into a piece of music to perform.
I need to spend a little time getting my recording equipment and computer working again. Perhaps the biggest challenge I have is time - like today, I'll need to dedicate some time several days a week to work on the piece.
I don't yet know what the finished piece will be. I need to select a few building blocks from the infinite combinations of sounds and rhythms and design a structure to fit the music in. Then it will start to take shape, and after a while I will find something that I can develop and refine into the finished composition. Finding enjoyment in the process is the main thing.
A few weeks ago I decided to compose a piece for two saxophones for the April concert of the composers society that I belong to. Today I got out my baritone saxophone for the first time in several years to blow out the cobwebs and begin working on ideas for the composition. I was reminded of how much I enjoy the process of capturing musical ideas and building them into a piece of music to perform.
I need to spend a little time getting my recording equipment and computer working again. Perhaps the biggest challenge I have is time - like today, I'll need to dedicate some time several days a week to work on the piece.
I don't yet know what the finished piece will be. I need to select a few building blocks from the infinite combinations of sounds and rhythms and design a structure to fit the music in. Then it will start to take shape, and after a while I will find something that I can develop and refine into the finished composition. Finding enjoyment in the process is the main thing.
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Hummingbird
Last week I was in La Jolla, California, for a meeting. The facility is high on a bluff overlooking the ocean, and landscaped with native plants. One of these, a Salvia, has purple blooms and comes with hummingbirds.
Tuesday, while sitting in the sun eating lunch, I saw a female sitting on a thin cable fence. She had a dark head and brown body, with a green sheen on her back. After a while she flew past me, then before long she came buzzing back and lit on the wire again.
The next day I saw the male sitting atop the purple plant. Black head, green sheen on the back, and bright red throat. There was a gusty breeze that I thought might keep him grounded. As it turned out, I underestimated him.
I watched him for a while, wondering what was so fascinating about hummingbirds. They are so agile - zipping by at high speed, then instantly hovering - seeming to have complete control in the air. They are tiny, but seem fearless, probably because they know we are much too slow and clumsy to pose a threat.
When I turned to walk on, he took off, rose about 10 feet in the air, and hovered, whirring wings clear against the bright sky. After a few seconds, he swooped around, hovered again, seemingly watching me, then flew down and lit atop another Salvia plant.
At the airport on Friday, I had some extra time due to a delayed flight, and enjoyed looking at some intricate Tepehuan "yarn paintings." Several featured hummingbirds, and their role as a bringer of rain.
Tuesday, while sitting in the sun eating lunch, I saw a female sitting on a thin cable fence. She had a dark head and brown body, with a green sheen on her back. After a while she flew past me, then before long she came buzzing back and lit on the wire again.
The next day I saw the male sitting atop the purple plant. Black head, green sheen on the back, and bright red throat. There was a gusty breeze that I thought might keep him grounded. As it turned out, I underestimated him.
I watched him for a while, wondering what was so fascinating about hummingbirds. They are so agile - zipping by at high speed, then instantly hovering - seeming to have complete control in the air. They are tiny, but seem fearless, probably because they know we are much too slow and clumsy to pose a threat.
When I turned to walk on, he took off, rose about 10 feet in the air, and hovered, whirring wings clear against the bright sky. After a few seconds, he swooped around, hovered again, seemingly watching me, then flew down and lit atop another Salvia plant.
At the airport on Friday, I had some extra time due to a delayed flight, and enjoyed looking at some intricate Tepehuan "yarn paintings." Several featured hummingbirds, and their role as a bringer of rain.
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