Here in the Tropics with The Witch
Just back from a much-needed break from life aboard -- a two-night sojourn in (gasp) an Air-Conditioned Hotel Room. We took the dinghy up to town and lucked into a cancellation during the beginning of busy Samana Santa (that's Holy Week, for English-speaking Christians). Pretty bare-bones, as hotel rooms go, but the opportunity for two nights of sleeping cool ... and two afternoons of Not Sweating at my computer ... as well as a chance to sample the cuisine of a new restaurant or two ... Priceless.
Back this morning, our first act was to put up a new sunshade over Second Summit's main cabin. Within moments of unrolling it -- even before getting the thing properly 'installed' and 'attached' -- we had some tent-fly venturi effect creating a cool breeze across the cabin top, and shade.
Now at 1:45 pm I can definitely tell it's working, because I'm still at my computer at work, not lying in a hammock praying for a little breeze.
Tropics: Hot. Definitely Hot. Not that I should be surprised -- all of 15 degrees from the Equator, after all. Sun right up there. Hot.
Other things are better. My meditation practice is back into daily mode -- or nearly -- 14 days out of the past 17, no two-day hiatus in the lot. Did yoga yesterday morning and will likely do it again tomorrow. Once last week, as well.
And then there is the Work.
A conversation that began in a Journey In class almost a year ago ... in which we were invited to imagine The Witch knocking at our door ... has become a dozen chapters, or at least the ghost of a dozen chapters, of a work of allegory. Not, precisely, 'fiction,' and not, exactly, 'factual memoir or diary,' but somewhere between them. At least, I think it's 'between.' Possibly located elsewhere, though, along a different continuum. (I wonder why I'm trying to locate it so precisely in an arbitrarily three-dimensional space. The Witch wonders why I don't just write-and-live or live-and-write the thing, instead of trying to find a pigeonhole to put it in.)
Are you willing? she asks. Don't tell me if you're not -- it won't do you any good. The time for saying No is past. But look within yourself: Are you willing? And if you find that you're willing, then look again: Are you ready? Do you choose to focus your attention? Do you choose to pay the price? Do you imagine you can choose to ask the price first, and then decide? or will you just commit yourself? Which will it be, then? No, don't tell me -- it's not me you need to answer.
And so the conversation began. A year ago I could taste and feel the Work, the Commitment she is talking about, but I couldn't articulate it, even internally. Just now, though, there is lots more clarity than before.
I'm in school again, mostly on-line with occasional personal visits, in Missouri, in Jersey, and in Vermont. Some of what I study is "facts" but lots of it is "experiential." I'm doing research again, in a much more focused way, even while sitting in this sailboat in a foreign country. I see ahead of me that soon there will be a decision point, and then another. It's important to watch closely now, and choose to set my feet on the Path that is mine.
I'm 61, with everything that entails. Libra with Leo rising, with all that implies. Time to be about my Work.
Back this morning, our first act was to put up a new sunshade over Second Summit's main cabin. Within moments of unrolling it -- even before getting the thing properly 'installed' and 'attached' -- we had some tent-fly venturi effect creating a cool breeze across the cabin top, and shade.
Now at 1:45 pm I can definitely tell it's working, because I'm still at my computer at work, not lying in a hammock praying for a little breeze.
Tropics: Hot. Definitely Hot. Not that I should be surprised -- all of 15 degrees from the Equator, after all. Sun right up there. Hot.
Other things are better. My meditation practice is back into daily mode -- or nearly -- 14 days out of the past 17, no two-day hiatus in the lot. Did yoga yesterday morning and will likely do it again tomorrow. Once last week, as well.
And then there is the Work.
A conversation that began in a Journey In class almost a year ago ... in which we were invited to imagine The Witch knocking at our door ... has become a dozen chapters, or at least the ghost of a dozen chapters, of a work of allegory. Not, precisely, 'fiction,' and not, exactly, 'factual memoir or diary,' but somewhere between them. At least, I think it's 'between.' Possibly located elsewhere, though, along a different continuum. (I wonder why I'm trying to locate it so precisely in an arbitrarily three-dimensional space. The Witch wonders why I don't just write-and-live or live-and-write the thing, instead of trying to find a pigeonhole to put it in.)
Are you willing? she asks. Don't tell me if you're not -- it won't do you any good. The time for saying No is past. But look within yourself: Are you willing? And if you find that you're willing, then look again: Are you ready? Do you choose to focus your attention? Do you choose to pay the price? Do you imagine you can choose to ask the price first, and then decide? or will you just commit yourself? Which will it be, then? No, don't tell me -- it's not me you need to answer.
And so the conversation began. A year ago I could taste and feel the Work, the Commitment she is talking about, but I couldn't articulate it, even internally. Just now, though, there is lots more clarity than before.
I'm in school again, mostly on-line with occasional personal visits, in Missouri, in Jersey, and in Vermont. Some of what I study is "facts" but lots of it is "experiential." I'm doing research again, in a much more focused way, even while sitting in this sailboat in a foreign country. I see ahead of me that soon there will be a decision point, and then another. It's important to watch closely now, and choose to set my feet on the Path that is mine.
I'm 61, with everything that entails. Libra with Leo rising, with all that implies. Time to be about my Work.