Today is Friday, a time when the workaday world feels the gravitational pull of the weekend. A shaft of light filters through a crack in the darkened cocoon of responsibility, and the indwelling spirit senses freedom.
For some, Friday night is date night, a time when the psyche sheds it's clock-watching persona and flies into an expansive sky of hope. Hope of what? Depending on the person, those enticements vary wildly: beer, sex, weed, movies, shabbat dinner, clubbing, meditation marathon, a night at home with kids or pets or mate or oneself welded to TV, or simply alone. Silent.
For those who are servers, cooks, truckers, babysitters, caregivers, entertainers and so on and so forth, Friday night is just another day in the life, with nothing out-of-the-ordinary. However, as most of us live amongst the ranks of daylight worker bees, !!weekend!!! remains the germaine topic.
Having lived in Southern California for 43 years, my network of friends and acquaintances has mushroomed into a diverse chain of beings who nestle in every sector of greater Los Angeles. Given this diversity, my choice of potential amusements runs the gamut from gardens of worldly delights to out-of-body forays into subtle realms of existence.
As I contemplate the impending weekend on this Friday morning, the wide-open blank pages of my ICalendar trigger a bi-polar response. Ah! Nowhere to go, no one to see: a peaceful, still and uncluttered span of time when anything becomes possible and ethereal dreams remain untested by real time rubes.
Then the pendulum swings to the opposite extreme and low-level panic sets in. What if I am missing a phantasmagoric movie or party or dinner or dharma talk or theater or a be-here-now-in, or any other life expanding event of which I have yet to know about? If I don't pick up the phone, text, or email someone with a plan of action might I fall into a big black pit reserved for lost souls?
In the center of this bi-polar swing lies an answer that quells the wild mind of either/or. Simply allowing for each second to unfold, without pre-conceived notions of "weekend!!!" bubbling in my brain, a simplicity arises like cream floating to the top of unhomogenized milk. No need to do anything or be anything; by simply breathing and noticing what my senses are taking in, a simplicity arises out of stillness that is a balm to the mind. Ah yes! Breathe in breathe out. And then,"doing" is done.
For some, Friday night is date night, a time when the psyche sheds it's clock-watching persona and flies into an expansive sky of hope. Hope of what? Depending on the person, those enticements vary wildly: beer, sex, weed, movies, shabbat dinner, clubbing, meditation marathon, a night at home with kids or pets or mate or oneself welded to TV, or simply alone. Silent.
For those who are servers, cooks, truckers, babysitters, caregivers, entertainers and so on and so forth, Friday night is just another day in the life, with nothing out-of-the-ordinary. However, as most of us live amongst the ranks of daylight worker bees, !!weekend!!! remains the germaine topic.
Having lived in Southern California for 43 years, my network of friends and acquaintances has mushroomed into a diverse chain of beings who nestle in every sector of greater Los Angeles. Given this diversity, my choice of potential amusements runs the gamut from gardens of worldly delights to out-of-body forays into subtle realms of existence.
As I contemplate the impending weekend on this Friday morning, the wide-open blank pages of my ICalendar trigger a bi-polar response. Ah! Nowhere to go, no one to see: a peaceful, still and uncluttered span of time when anything becomes possible and ethereal dreams remain untested by real time rubes.
Then the pendulum swings to the opposite extreme and low-level panic sets in. What if I am missing a phantasmagoric movie or party or dinner or dharma talk or theater or a be-here-now-in, or any other life expanding event of which I have yet to know about? If I don't pick up the phone, text, or email someone with a plan of action might I fall into a big black pit reserved for lost souls?
In the center of this bi-polar swing lies an answer that quells the wild mind of either/or. Simply allowing for each second to unfold, without pre-conceived notions of "weekend!!!" bubbling in my brain, a simplicity arises like cream floating to the top of unhomogenized milk. No need to do anything or be anything; by simply breathing and noticing what my senses are taking in, a simplicity arises out of stillness that is a balm to the mind. Ah yes! Breathe in breathe out. And then,"doing" is done.
Beautifully expressed! Wish I could be content with "just this"...
ReplyDeleteYou are doing just fine!!!!
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