In the Moment

I left the apartment this morning at 10am, and since it was raining, snowing, and hailing – I decided to drive rather than walk.  When I got into the car it was 51 degrees and when I got out, 5 blocks later, it was 36.  Okay.

I had a sudden burst of insight that I’m enjoying – being here in Butte creates a physical environment of being in the moment without expectation of what ’should’ be.

First, its the weather.  There is not a steady progression from winter to spring to summer.  Nope.  Every day – sometimes every few minutes – is unique unto itself.  And then you deal with it.  Resistance is futile, as the Borg would say.  Or, as someone else said that other day … if you try to resist what already is, you will lose 100% of the time.  Yup.  So … be aware, be prepared, and find a way to love it.

Second, its the progression of day to night and back to day.  On the east coast night comes at a seemly hour.  The sun sets around 8:30 this time of year and night falls pretty quickly after that.  Here, the sun is setting around 9:20 these days and the light lingers til well after 10pm.  I am invited to live by the rhythms of my body’s response to the light and darkness and not my expectations of what the clock says.

I like this way of living, being, thinking.  I like this way of shifting with the moment rather than pushing against it.

Drumming

While my friend, Michael, is away over the next two weeks, he loaned me one of his drums to practice on – so at the end of the day, I’ve been taking out the djembe and drumming for half an hour or so. It’s amazing to me how such a simple action of slapping hand against goat skin stretched over carved wood can create such a sense of peace and balance – but it does. I’m creating a few marketing pieces for Michael’s Sunday drum circle and his Drumming and Depression classes – and having the daily experience of drumming myself puts me in just the right frame of mind.

I think I’ll have to shift my nighttime drum habit, though, as soon as the weather warms up enough to open windows. Jennifer was complaining the other day about one of her neighbors who drums at night … and I surely don’t want my neighbors complaining about the crazy lady in the carriage house who drums late at night! I don’t have to worry about it yet, though – we have a winter storm watch for tonight and could get up to five inches of snow.

Yesterday, early evening, we had a few thunderstorms roll through the city – I don’t know what it is about thunderstorms that make me feel like curling up under a blanket and taking a nap – but I did and woke after 20 minutes feeling refreshed. I wandered from window to window looking over the newly washed landscape and out the eastern window was a huge double rainbow. It was SO gorgeous and rich. This morning, with the sun shining brightly, the hills around me are greening up with a soft, almost sage-like color. The lilac bushes are cascading with flowers and the little trees around town have a beautiful, soft, spring-scent that is such a delight to walk past.

I had a great, long conversation with Connee last night – it was wonderful to hear her soothing and inspiring perspective on some topics that have been troubling me, and it was a gift that she let me natter on and on and on about a new experience I’ve been having. I feel so rich in my friendships right now – the people in my life are truly extraordinary and I feel so blessed.

After talking with Connee, I realized that I’ve been letting the pain that I’ve been dealing with now for a few weeks really get to me – and I haven’t addressed it well. By the end of the day when I’ve been fighting off pain, I’m cranky, spacey, and not that fun to be around – even for me. So, I let the drumming carry me into a receptive state o’mind, and then I did a long session of healing work with myself. I fell asleep easily last night, and this morning woke to the sunshine and the barking dogs feeling oh so much better.