The kite of clarity…
Started the day with artwork today. Seemed apropos of the full moon, of celebrating the first good nights rest in a while, of honoring this time of shelter at home, of honoring that part of self that simply revels in the goodness and beauty of life.
It’s a busy week (I’m sure I’m not alone in that projection) and having started the day with just 30 minutes of indulging the sense of beauty I find myself pleasantly surprised to notice that although I’ve been setting my own schedule for years, I can still do much better in cultivating my own “pace of integration” – Fred Wilson wrote a little about this in his morning blog today, and it’s a whisper I’ve been hearing from numerous channels.
After that I spent most of the day working on an assessment project for a client while fielding the occasional email and text message. About 3:30 PM the phone rang and I shifted gears to full-time Correspondence mode.
“Samuel Pepys diary” you said, Charles, perhaps nearly a decade ago now.
Funny, as you know, the very obscure thing came up just the other day in a podcast I was listening to.
It’s on my mind this evening – another nature spectacular evening with strong winds up high driving the clouds like racecars to cover the blue and break up, filling with light, only to race on, a painted grey flickering the light from the setting sun.
Hawks and ravens twist and turn up high, while near the ground birds seem to be flitting for shelter even as big gusts twist the trees with intermittent suddenness.
Samuel Pepys is on my mind as I reflect, “Where has the narrative gone?” When I started these letters in early January the pace and tone was almost frenetic. The metaphors were those of imminent destruction and dire concern for my immediate future and well-being. Of course Mr. Pepys would not approve of metaphor which returns me to my point.
As I find myself contextualizing the little bits of the moment in the context of the wider “busy week” and other perspectives, it drives my attention back to the essential, “what is the truth of the moment, so simple and discrete, that would be a shame to miss?”
Is it the subtle awareness throughout the evening last as, while sleeping, I attended some part of myself to the rains falling throughout the night? Perhaps the feeling, waking at 4:30 AM, of restedness that brought with it joy to be up and with energy for meditation and a little audiobook before the morning light?
Dr. Mike called this afternoon, advising me to get an oxygen saturation monitor to facilitate our developing practice of telemedicine. Like many of us he is adjusting to working from home – with kids and dogs and loved ones flirting through the background of countless video calls. In his case, as an osteopathic medical practitioner, he is noticing the absence of the “listening with his hands” that will be familiar to other osteopath and countless body workers in 31 flavors.
We touched on his experience of furlough, the many others who are much less fortunate, visions of what is ripe to build today, the nascent and newly refreshed Care Field here at Mill Peak, and planning for a formal telemedicine appointment later in the week.
I and dear Samuel it seems lead very different lives in very different times under very different conditions. My feet rest stationary on the footplate of the chair, not darting about through cobblestone streets and carriages.
95% of my day is spent within one square yard in front of the computer. By the good grace of the gods and good fortune, just 5 feet to my left is a perfectly positioned window affording me views of natural hillside and sky. My mind may wander, but those things I encounter either flicker or flit by the window or across the digital monitors before me. But yet again I digress…
My plate is still filled with the puzzle of what to do for home and finance and car and care. The concerns of January remain the same, but the context has changed dramatically.
Selling the house, or finding roommates, selling the car, or sharing it, all of these involve person-to-person contact which is the taboo de jure. On the other hand, consulting meetings online remain the same, even picking up a bit of late. Many potential partners for projects are also suffering the mixed blessing of being homebound and out of the ordinary.
All of this of course rests in the eye of the hurricane which is the growing daily death toll, financial storm, and existential inquiry for millions.
I guess the message I’m trying to share dear Charles is that of not to worry, I haven’t lost the thread of the central narrative of the deepest questions of my own life and well-being, only that the kite of clarity is somewhere high in the rushing clouds clouds overhead, perhaps still harvesting energy, and that yes, I am gently still and persistently pulling on the string.
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…