To the open eye my body is still and calm in the chair just now. To the inner eye, it is quivering, pregnant with undirected energy. I just got up from the 45 minute “nap.” Really it was just 45 minutes of lying on the bed, my mind full of the motion of all that is in play. A mind full, while the body rested.
My nervous system today has been firing on all 13 cylinders, nearly jumping out of the chair, or so it felt very real to me that way. After about six hours of that I said to Patience, “it’s as though my nervous system, not my muscles have just been running a marathon.”
While the muscles only jump intermittently, it seems in fact the signal to jump has been playing on repeat all day long. After the busyness of yesterday, it was an early morning today.
To the open eye, the house has appeared calm today.
Cassandra slept over last evening enjoying the solitude of the treehouse sunroom on the surprisingly comfortable inflatable mattress in order to cover my rising process and let Stephanie continue her rest toward wellness.
She had yoga in North County this morning at 9:30 which meant an early start here. 5 AM arrived, stirring me awake with the sound of Patience’s alarm. I might’ve been disturbed for the “interruption” were it not a concrete symbol for the beginning of this next wave.
One of the exquisite privileges of this new living arrangement is the focused energy of a disciplined meditation and yoga practice that Patience grounds into the space. Every morning, like clockwork, today, here, the first.
In the next room, LaBradford slept soundly, the third in this dynamic new trio creating the seed anchor of this new iteration of the MettaCare practitioners house. This is the first morning the three of us all slept and woke here, and how fitting that Cassandra, who has been such a soul’s blood of this place through the last turning should be here with her energy to steward the moment.
I knew it would be an early day, but nonetheless was a little surprised when Mrs. C’s twinkling eyes broke the darkness at 6:30, smiling and ready to go. My body was stiff and spastic then as it is now nearly 12 hours later.
As if honoring the fresh energy of this new moment, my email held a surprise this morning – new structures emerging outside of my control had channeled through the first of what may be a trickle or even a stream of STAGES Assessment work, a welcome boon to the emerging mandala of this new iteration.
Cassandra lovingly got me up and started, out and about to begin the day earlier I think than any day yet this year. As I rolled into the kitchen just moments after the 8 o’clock hour, I paused to the sound of morning birds coming in on the cool air through the open kitchen window.
There was a freshness in the familiarity to the sound. Coming from the north and the wooded hillside and early, it was a sound unadulterated by the cacophony of internal combustions and other human activity. It was a sound I know well from countless precious mornings in more natural and remote settings beyond the boundaries of time and broken body, sounds almost from another life; another kind of life to be sure.
Reflecting now I notice the reflection of the alarm in the dark and bird sounds in the early light… They share a quality of announcing this new moment, visible to the inner eye, quivering and pregnant with energy whose direction and coherence remains to be made plain.
I settled at the desk, beginning to organize the work of the day. Cassandra prepared a bowl of yogurt with blueberries, crushed almonds, and hemp seeds and we ate smiling, enjoying the good fortune to be spending extra time together during her birthday week (proper day tomorrow ;-).
She made her way out the door just before 9 o’clock leaving me to matters clerical and quiet with the house still mostly asleep or in meditation around me.
I worked for a while and then, in the moment, the little arrow pointer cursor on the computer screen stopped responding in its usual two dimensions. Side-to-side was still a thing, but up and down was no longer part of the function. This happens periodically, it just means the trackball needs to be cleaned. I need help with this task.
I smiled. Reveling in the quiet silliness of the situation. Here in front of me, many good tasks to be done, I could see a few of them directly, but unable to act except slide uselessly the little arrow left and right.
I turned to my phone and the garage door remote therein. Fortunately the sun was just up enough and the lovely lady had thoughtfully left the garage door kitchen open for me. I rolled outside to use the opportunity to take in the morning rays and commune for a time with the organic textures of the new day.
After a while Ms. P appeared with a smile, just turning to the outward focuses of her day, a day that would be filled with the settling energy of unpacking boxes, cooking, and organizing a new kitchen.
After some check-in and enjoying the morning air together, the kindly friend happily cleaned my trackball for me, setting me back on the track of a day that would be filled with a disciplined busyness, the weekly finance focus, preparation of taxes extended to next month, professional engagement with the new Stages stream and moments of pause to mix and mingle in the energy of the new jazz trio now occupying the place on Mill Peak.
I’m looking to turn in early this evening, though early seems to be coming (and possibly going) pretty quick. The sun is just setting now over the dense marine layer, “actual sunset” I think is still about 20 minutes behind. It will be dark before dinner; with luck a quiet and uneventful night will lead to a Thursday morning where our little New World here will be catching its legs for the second day running.
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…