On the way home, I stopped to photograph something that has caught my imagination for many a year. This one's for my friend at writemuch.blogspot.com
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Four Words
On the way home, I stopped to photograph something that has caught my imagination for many a year. This one's for my friend at writemuch.blogspot.com
Hot Cereal - Cold Day
Saturday.....It turned out to require an act of extreme will not to multitask while eating my morning oatmeal. Understand that my typical breakfast has been taken in while walking around with the cereal bowl while picking up items on the floor or letting the dogs in or out (how is it that they always think they are on the wrong side of the door - if they are in, they want out, if out, they look pitifully through the windows to get in) or washing my face or putting on my makeup. Crazy! So this time, I mixed the oatmeal and almond milk, stuck it into the microwave -OK, I emptied the dishwasher while the oatmeal was cooking- and then put in a dollop of yogurt and a squirt of honey and sat down at the dining room table to enjoy it while I looked out at the mountains and the pasture and the barn with the green roof and the red door. Somehow I ended up in the living room, still eating my hot cereal, and picked up a magazine and then put it down like a hot potato. This mindfulness thing is going to take some practice.
Had to be at the Louisa County airport in the 0930 to 1000 range to meet up with my friend and flight instructor for instrument practice. So I rushed around the house, "discussing" with my husband who was going to call the neighbor's kid about the best time to come and split the wood. (He did it).
Out the door and off to the airport saying to myself "never be in a hurry around an airplane" - One place I have learned to be mindful is around and inside the airplane - and for that reason, flying the airplane is a relaxing experience because it demands my complete and total attention. Another airplane mantra is "fly the airplane" - i.e., don't worry about talking to ATC or fiddling with navigation equipment or closing the door that might have popped open. Seems pilots are way ahead on the mindfulness curve, or at least the good ones are. I do have days when my head is not inside the airplane and on those days I have no business flying it.
Did I mention that it was cold outside yesterday? It was about 17F when I got to the hangar and opened up the (cold) metal hangar door and walked around the (cold) plane touching its various (cold) parts to be sure that all was working well, then tried to start the (cold) tug - which, after pulling that damn string about 100 times, I decided was not going to start. Then using my frozen fingers to tap out the number on my (cold) telephone for the FBO guys to come and help me pull out that heavy (cold) airplane using the metal (cold) towbar. Happily, thanks to our handy Reiff engine preheater, the engine was not cold and the monster started right up. By the time I taxied out and got ready to take off, I was loving the cold weather because on a cold day, the dense air will make even a "weedwacker with wings" aircraft climb like a homesick angel - the propeller taking huge bites of the dense air and pushing it back over the wings and the resulting lift, well, heavenly.
Bob W was waiting for me at KLKU with a smile and a loaf of his wife, Penny's, banana bread that she had remembered to send for me after, two Christmases ago (!), I told her that her BB was the best in the entire world. Those Woodberrys are sweet people!
So Bob W put me through the paces in the air and by the time I got to the part of the session where he had me negotiating 45 degree bank turns in which I was not supposed to lose altitude and was supposed to roll out on an exact cardinal heading, nothing was in my mind but the task at hand - MINDFULNESS HAPPENS! That sense of peace and fun and being present lasted through the evening and into the night. But today it's done and am starting over with breakfast (which is sure to include the best banana bread in the world) and a day of avoiding distractions from each task immediately at hand. Wish me luck.
Had to be at the Louisa County airport in the 0930 to 1000 range to meet up with my friend and flight instructor for instrument practice. So I rushed around the house, "discussing" with my husband who was going to call the neighbor's kid about the best time to come and split the wood. (He did it).
Out the door and off to the airport saying to myself "never be in a hurry around an airplane" - One place I have learned to be mindful is around and inside the airplane - and for that reason, flying the airplane is a relaxing experience because it demands my complete and total attention. Another airplane mantra is "fly the airplane" - i.e., don't worry about talking to ATC or fiddling with navigation equipment or closing the door that might have popped open. Seems pilots are way ahead on the mindfulness curve, or at least the good ones are. I do have days when my head is not inside the airplane and on those days I have no business flying it.
Did I mention that it was cold outside yesterday? It was about 17F when I got to the hangar and opened up the (cold) metal hangar door and walked around the (cold) plane touching its various (cold) parts to be sure that all was working well, then tried to start the (cold) tug - which, after pulling that damn string about 100 times, I decided was not going to start. Then using my frozen fingers to tap out the number on my (cold) telephone for the FBO guys to come and help me pull out that heavy (cold) airplane using the metal (cold) towbar. Happily, thanks to our handy Reiff engine preheater, the engine was not cold and the monster started right up. By the time I taxied out and got ready to take off, I was loving the cold weather because on a cold day, the dense air will make even a "weedwacker with wings" aircraft climb like a homesick angel - the propeller taking huge bites of the dense air and pushing it back over the wings and the resulting lift, well, heavenly.
Bob W was waiting for me at KLKU with a smile and a loaf of his wife, Penny's, banana bread that she had remembered to send for me after, two Christmases ago (!), I told her that her BB was the best in the entire world. Those Woodberrys are sweet people!
So Bob W put me through the paces in the air and by the time I got to the part of the session where he had me negotiating 45 degree bank turns in which I was not supposed to lose altitude and was supposed to roll out on an exact cardinal heading, nothing was in my mind but the task at hand - MINDFULNESS HAPPENS! That sense of peace and fun and being present lasted through the evening and into the night. But today it's done and am starting over with breakfast (which is sure to include the best banana bread in the world) and a day of avoiding distractions from each task immediately at hand. Wish me luck.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
The year of living mindfully
OK, so here I go with my first blog on DogMa - what does it mean that I am now a blogger? I have alternately admired and made fun of other blogs, wondered why these people have so much time on their hands, wondered why anyone would want to read anything that I might write about me, my "little life" with my dogs and my husband and our wooden shack at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains.
This year I will be 53 years old.... how did this happen? It seems like yesterday when I thought my days were limitless, my time infinite, every experience reproducible, each moment expendable, the small bits and pieces and sounds and sights and tiny vignettes that make up the day not worth thinking about or sharing - just keep moving ma'am.
Then it dawned on me gradually as I walked with my dogs in the woods or sat by the fireplace with my husband that this moment, this particular scene with its own set of additions.... sun casting a certain light, wind blowing a certain way, leaves falling or not falling, squirrel running up the tree, bird flying by, water rippling, dogs grunting, orchids blooming or about to bloom..... will never happen again. This is it - it is my life, it is what I might long for (soledad) some day - just the normalcy of it, the day to day gift of being me in my life.
Sometimes it strikes in earnest when I see my elderly clients and friends no longer able to live in their homes, having to say the last goodbye to the last good dog, knowing that they will never again climb a mountain or fly an airplane or admire a wide vista of desert or plain or go outside in their yard in the moonlight or any of those other magical things that I am able to do almost at will. They will never stop into Shenandoah Joe's the coffee shop for a quick pick-me-up or walk through the grocery store or select a beautiful orchid at Floradise.
Some of them accept these losses with peace and equanimity; others do not. I suppose none of us knows how we will do at such times - we can only hope for the former.
So for now, the endeavor to live in my own body and mind; to notice the small things and to savor them slowly, to have my cereal in the morning while thinking about it rather than wondering how I can get through this in order to get to the next thing, to notice the wind and trees and dog smiles when wandering in the woods, to admire my sweet husband's profile and his warmth beside me on cold mornings - to be mindful in my interactions with the world - this is my purpose, my resolution if you will, for 2011. Wish me luck.
This year I will be 53 years old.... how did this happen? It seems like yesterday when I thought my days were limitless, my time infinite, every experience reproducible, each moment expendable, the small bits and pieces and sounds and sights and tiny vignettes that make up the day not worth thinking about or sharing - just keep moving ma'am.
Then it dawned on me gradually as I walked with my dogs in the woods or sat by the fireplace with my husband that this moment, this particular scene with its own set of additions.... sun casting a certain light, wind blowing a certain way, leaves falling or not falling, squirrel running up the tree, bird flying by, water rippling, dogs grunting, orchids blooming or about to bloom..... will never happen again. This is it - it is my life, it is what I might long for (soledad) some day - just the normalcy of it, the day to day gift of being me in my life.
Sometimes it strikes in earnest when I see my elderly clients and friends no longer able to live in their homes, having to say the last goodbye to the last good dog, knowing that they will never again climb a mountain or fly an airplane or admire a wide vista of desert or plain or go outside in their yard in the moonlight or any of those other magical things that I am able to do almost at will. They will never stop into Shenandoah Joe's the coffee shop for a quick pick-me-up or walk through the grocery store or select a beautiful orchid at Floradise.
Some of them accept these losses with peace and equanimity; others do not. I suppose none of us knows how we will do at such times - we can only hope for the former.
So for now, the endeavor to live in my own body and mind; to notice the small things and to savor them slowly, to have my cereal in the morning while thinking about it rather than wondering how I can get through this in order to get to the next thing, to notice the wind and trees and dog smiles when wandering in the woods, to admire my sweet husband's profile and his warmth beside me on cold mornings - to be mindful in my interactions with the world - this is my purpose, my resolution if you will, for 2011. Wish me luck.
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