Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. then your love would also change-
When I was a young lad, my next door neighbor shared with me, that the phases of the moon tend to make people crazy every 29.532 days, or so, or whatever it reads on the calendar.
She lamented, that it was caused by the gravitational pull of the moon on the Earth, the same tidal forces that cause high and low tides in our nearby lakes and streams, the argument being that our bodies are more than 45-73% water, and being composed mostly of water, we are thus influenced by the moon.
I was impressionable and fascinated by her voodoo science, seriously, who isn’t at that age? Having long since stored this tasty nugget of information into the darkest folds of my “brain“, the new moon last night, and a dear friend, reminded me of this theory and awakened my curiosity to do a little more research of my own.
Does a new moon, or any moon? The Death Star?!? Really have a measurable effect on our Being?
Before we turn into forest sprite’s and start dancing around the campfire, we need to define what a “full moon” or “new moon” really is. The moon-thingy revolves around the Earth, and this Earth-thingy revolves around the sun, which is gently rising in the East this morning – Let me know if this ever changes! The phases of the moon, simply represent the portions illuminated by the sun.
Now we can start dancing, for you see, all of this motion creates a very dynamic display for us forest sprite’s and werewolves – The moon dancing in the sky. So when you see that little sliver slice of heaven up above, or not, the rest of the moon is still there—the sun’s rays just aren’t reflected on the surface we are witnessing.
The full moon, new moon or any moon, may or may NOT be causing any mini gravitational tides in our slushy, water filled bodies. The extra light, and the lack of light, is literally messing with our heads, somehow, and seeing that this is not a research based science blog … Truth be told, we’re likely just being paranoid and superstitious. Or perhaps those who claim “lunacy” are those who transform into cheeky little forest sprite’s and hairy werewolves a handful of times during a calendar year – 365.242374 ish days.
I realize today that nothing in the world is more distasteful to a man than to take the path that leads to himself-
Early this past Friday morning while driving to work, an event occurred that made me question everything in life.
Mindfulness and Awareness are a journey, not a destination, not something to achieve, not the latest “trend” to trick you into signing up for a months worth of yoga classes, and since mindfulness and awareness are deeply personal, I will humbly, and reluctantly share with you the events that enveloped my recent experience. An experience that has both failed me, and helped me tremendously.
Typically, I commute to work via bicycle. I wake early, reheat a cup of black coffee I make the night prior for a minute or so in the microwave and ease into my riding gear, gently and peacefully. This was not the case last Friday. For you see, I was in a rush, I was outside of my body, I was aware of my actions but not mindful of them. The usual list of things come to mind – Work, riding more, building a new bike, helping friends and family, trying to practice yoga twice a day, spending more time abusing myself than nurturing my spirit. Slowing down does not come naturally to me. I once had an old riding buddy (he was old and had legs like tree trunks …) in England say to me, “slow down to go fast mate” and I got it at the time. It’s the proverbial Aesop’s Fable the story of ‘The Tortoise & the Hare’, the tortoise won by going slower. Faster only gets you to your destination quicker – Driving to a noon yoga class while at work, instead of riding my bike to work and practicing at Halleck Park when the sun rises. Driving to work so I can pick up and drop off some bike parts a day ahead of schedule instead of just waiting for the weekend. By practicing to go slower, I become mindful of the world around me, and I pay more attention … I actually arrive exactly where I want to be, with more awareness. Instead of a steamy car wash bay, spraying the putrid, burning flesh of a deer from the underside of my car.
All of this sounds so simple, although in practice, its much harder.
So where does this leave me? I believe I need to reflect and review my actions with intention – Do my words and actions really align? My feelings really are indicators of my true spirit. When I am feeling incredibly frustrated with life, unsupported and angry? I need to pause, and take better care of my own emotional well-being. My thoughts truly create the world I call home. Being mindful of how I think is essential to my place in this comforting world at times.
Actions, feelings and thoughts that convey encouraging messages, that leave me feeling content and with a smile on my face, are at the heart of living mindfully.
It was as if
while I was driving down a one-lane dirt road
with tall pines on both sides
the landscape had a syntax
similar to that of our language
and as I moved along
a long sentence was being spoken
on the right and another on the left
and I thought
Maybe the landscape
can understand what I say too.
Ahead was a farmhouse
with children playing near the road
so I slowed down
and waved to them.
They were young enough
to smile and wave back.
Make your ego porous. Will is of little importance, complaining is nothing, fame is nothing. Openness, patience, receptivity, solitude is everything-
Our appetite for wealth, the latest and greatest, and material gain isn’t driven by any sort of “hardship“, but by our own, deep-rooted inner discontent.
I was convinced that I could buy my way to happiness after all the years of abuse I put myself, and my family through. I believed that my discontent was wrought from hardship, and that the only way to permanent fulfillment and well-being was the acquisition of things. Sadly, our society still measures “success” in terms of the quality and price of the “things” we can buy, the size of our house and salaries – the size of our manhood and Ego when we drop trough and boast about a new bike or whatever.
As much as I take comfort in casting blame on society for my faults, my Ego is what defines my role(s) in the material world; I am a father, I am an engineer, I am an avid cyclist. I am liar, I am a fakata of things in this thing called life. When asked to introduce or say a little bit about myself – I instantly define myself in the conscious realm, and my ego is hell-bent on pulling me away from my True Self.
The more I identify myself with the “I am … “, the less I am able to identify with the, me.
You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life-
While cleaning the garage this past weekend, I came across a handful of Enduro – Mountain Bike race medals and tattered bibs from the nearly 4 years I spent living in the United Kingdom. I was preparing to pitch them in the bin outside when curiosity overcame me, I sat down on the warm west-facing front porch and started to look through them. On these worn and faded relics, I found a record of a life that seemed so impossibly exciting to me that I could hardly believe it had once been mine.
With my Son carelessly riding his bike with some neighborhood mates, I sat there, coffee in hand and reminisced about my life competing in England. When I meet fellow cyclist at a local coffee shop early on a Sunday morning, a recent swap meet or my favourite MTB trail head, they invariably inquire why I don’t compete at the same level now. The “thing” is, during nearly all of my years there, my heart longed to be somewhere else. It seems incredible when I think about it now, watching my Son creating long fluid skid marks in the road, when I’m holding objects such as this Thetford Forest MTB Racing Series podium medal, serves only to remind me of the seemingly rare and blessed glimpse of my days spent there.
I tossed the medals and bibs in the trash bin and placed my stained streaked coffee mug on top, sealing the contents inside. Hooked our now warm and cozy beagle up to his leash, grabbed a sweatshirt from inside the garage door, and proceed to tear up the now quiet neighborhood with my Son.