This morning, besides being the beginning of the adult education classes at church, was also the 10th anniversary of 9/11. John and I were asked by the new associate pastor to help out with the morning session, and Jet got to play a part as well. Jet's expertise had origami allowed him to lead folks in folding doves, which were used during worship itself.
There's a book, The Art of Peace, by the guy who founded the aikido school of martial arts, and one of the phrases, which I have seen in other literature included "Like moon on water." That is to be like the reflection of the moon on water, something seen and seemingly apparent, but which cannot be hit or harmed. It is more an attitude than a physical reality. I love the book, as it speaks of forgiveness and peace in terms that I can understand, not in ways that lay me open to more hurt, but in ways I can let go of the things that would hurt me.
But it reminded me of the evenings I spent swimming by myself, when I would just go out to do a few laps after the lifeguards had gone home. There was nothing there but the moon, the night sky, a few stars, and the calm waters. After living here for so many years, and using the pool every summer, I've gotten confident enough in my abilities to just swim laps, and never count them. I just keep going and going and going until I get tired enough or my time is up. I have no fear anymore of sinking, and no worries about breathing when I need to find air. The water always holds me up, and I swim on my back I don't want to worry about timing my breaths. The water closing over my ears and cutting out sound is now calming for me.
I guess it would be almost like sense deprivation, when I am swimming in the dark. Especially since I float in the water, without anything else in contact with my body other than the water.
During the meditation portion of the early morning session, Luke was talking about letting go. Letting go of anger, grief, and the conflicts of everyday life. He did a step-by-step meditation guidance, and I ended up sitting crosslegged in the air five inches over a mirror glass still lake. Snowcapped mountains surrounded me, and the sun was just coming up turning the clouds pale pink, purple, and gold in a blaze of a blue sky. The full moon was a giant pearl on the far horizon. The forest fringed the lake, and a Temple, snow dusted dark wood, floated by the near shore. The bell sounded and temple folk started to move in the shadows.
I'm still not quite sure how I ended up there, but I floated and enjoyed the view, and was amused by my reflection, as a dragon in white and blues, in the waters.
A coffee mug that caught my eye in San Diego said, "It is easy to be calm, collected, and Buddha benevolent when one is out of the world. It is much more difficult and much more desired to be those in the midst of daily strife."
Slowly, I think I am learning.
My eyes are troubling me again, and it is the same allergy reactions I have had for the last five years. Usually they go away within a couple of months, once the weather changes for good. Here, the weather pretty much rotates between winter and summer, and all of August was far hotter than it normally is, we broke record highs for most of the time that Allie was here. Two days after she left, the temperatures broke, and we went from 90+ degrees down to 50s and 60s. I even turned on fire in the fireplace for a day. It's now back in the 70s, but nothing like the deep summer temperatures we were having. I think once the first hard freeze happens, I should be free of eye troubles again.
Allie's visit itself turned out very well. We went up to Estes Park and visited the Stanley Hotel, got a very nice tour from a very nice tour guide, and also got to walk a little bit around Lake Estes itself. John made Allie a pecan pie, and I made my sweet potato casserole. Allie and I also wrote 12,000 words of our next novel, which is now a little over 20,000 words. We're making progress. I've been editing the third novel, which we wrote last summer, and putting together a CaféPress store for artwork featuring David and West. That's been pretty interesting, and we're giving our artists a 50-50 split on whatever sells, just to see how it works out.
As part of the meditation, however, I was given this little mantra:
A dutiful soldier who will no longer fight
A faithful priest who claims no Church
A clever wizard who gave away his heart
A shadow assassin who steals no more lives
I suspect I have found some of my Misfit Toys.
I've also found a tool, that has proven very useful for the times when I wish to write. It is called Liquid Story Binder, and is free for use so long as you keep using it, I really liked that contract. I am finding it useful enough that I may well pay for a license, so that I can install it on any of my machines and use it whenever I wish, rather than having to track which one has been used at least once in the last 30 days.
There are a lot of gadgets to go with the front interface, but I really like a number of them. I also really like the Momentum Writer, now that I have figured out how to turn on backspacing, and I can use some of the old typewriter fonts in the Troll Jelly colorway. It reminds me of my old CRT on the laptop that used to run off of two floppy disks. I am oddly nostalgic for the orange glow against black backgrounds, and not really having a mouse to go back and edit. I just have to keep going, and sometimes that's really useful for first drafts. It keeps the perfectionist in check, and stops me from editing myself to death. I'll admit that the dictation software is pretty good for that too, but for entirely different reasons. One of the very good disciplines that Momentum Writer imposes is using RTF files rather than Word files. It's nicer to use the more portable standard.