Tipping Point

Back from a week of vacation to the Northwest, visiting Seattle and the Columbia Gorge.  After a long day of travel and a short night, I was up early to go to work, with a yoga class to teach on the way.

A few times a year, the gradual change in seasons reaches a tipping point.  This morning was one of those.  Leaving the house at 6 am, it was still dark.   All summer long that walk has begun in the early light, with birds beginning to sing.  Today, the sounds of night insects filled the air, and the birds were not yet stirring.  

Soon I'll be able to watch Orion overhead on the early morning walks.  Autumn is coming.

Shade

On a hot summer day with the sun blazing down,
there's nothing more pleasant than a patch of shade.
Add a nice breeze, and it's close to heaven.

Exhale to Emptiness

As the exhale leaves, my diaphragm relaxes and settles back under my ribs.  When I watch my breath and follow the exhale, that's where my attention goes.

The inhale seems to expand energy out in all directions - the exhale to draw everything back to a single point, which then vanishes.

When mind is attuned to breath, exhale can also lead mind to empty and become still.  The distracted mind becomes focused, then the object of focus vanishes into the space in the center.  The infinite possibility of emptiness, to be filled with the next breath, and a new path of thought.

Emptiness.  Space.  Freedom.  Possibility.

Flat Lucky

Saturday after breakfast was to be a trip to the farmers market and grocery store - getting it done earlier in the day than usual.  We went down to the garage, and while getting in the car, I noticed that the left rear tire was low - quite low.  We drove to the gas station we usually go to - the air compressor was broken. The tire seemed lower.  We drove across the street to another station, and I pumped up the tire, realizing that it had almost no pressure at all, and that I had left the valve stem cap at the first station. It inflated, but I was nervous about it.  Back at the first station to retrieve the cap, I saw that there was a cut, or a tear, in the outer edge of the tread at one point.  Now I knew the plans for the day were changing.

We drove back home, parked in the driveway, and called AAA.  After the spare was installed, I drove to the nearest tire store, arriving about 10:30.  They were very busy - cars parked everywhere, and waiting room full.  I stood in line, checked in, and then sat down to wait.  They stopped taking new customers at 11, as they close at 1 on Saturdays.  I was one of the last people to leave - about 1:20 pm - with new tires on the rear wheels.

We missed the farmers market for the day, but got everything else in.  Tomorrow we're driving to Pennsylvania so Pam can run in some track events in the Pennsylvania Senior Games.  It's a very good thing I saw the tire this morning, and didn't end up with a blowout out on the road somewhere.

Things often go the way they're planned, but sometimes they don't.  That's when you find out how the practice helps you accept and make the best of whatever arises.