"You are wearing your smug hat," she said to him. He smiled, his face becoming like his hat. I laughed, because it was true, the hat was smug, self-satisfied. It resembled a narrow-brimmed dark straw pork pie hat, but came to more of a point in front, and it suited him perfectly. We were in the upper balcony of the sports arena, waiting for The Cure to come in and blast out our eardrums in the loud echoing acoustics of the hall. I wasn't a fan, barely knew the music, but he and she were very keen, and that made it fun. Why, I wondered, isn't it just tedious to listen to them comparing previous song versions ad infinitum? I think it was because they were truly happy, speaking their language without artifice or trying to prove anything. They were just enjoying themselves, purely, and that is contagious.
I'm remembering that moment now, as I swim lazily back and forth in the rectangle of cool water. I'm taking the day off from exploration, without guilt. Yesterday I saw my cousins, as they were ending their 17-day trip and returning to London, tonight I'll be singing "Cry Me a River," as my part of the closing Vocal Forum concert, and tomorrow I'll be visiting LACMA and following it up with a backstage tour of the Wiltern Theatre. So for now, I'm just resting. I can't rest on my bed, because the dogs won't let me: they have been very clingy the last few days, perhaps because I've been gone for several hours a day, exploring the various museums in the area. They paw at me, and lick my face, and chew on my shirt and whine.
They whimper and paw
Till I get up and feed them.
Please let me sleep now.
So, I got up at 6:30 and fed them. Then I had some coffee and cheesecake from yesterday's baking (yum), then took them for a walk. And they were still unable to settle, so I went out to the pool. It feels so peaceful, stroking back and forth as they sit in the shade and watched me. I think about meditation, and sit on the little corner stepping ledge in the deep end of the pool, The water is breast high. My feet dangle, swaying in the water, and my arms float out from my shoulders as I take the first steps: how do I feel physically and mentally? what is my goal? My mind is peaceful. I can feel tendrils of cold water brushing around my fingers. My body is weightless and, except for the changing temperature of the moving water, has no sensation of heat or cold. I look into middle distance, vaguely seeing the darker blue shadows laid upon the bright blue of the pool tiles: the sun is still in the east and the trees cast a shade in my corner. I am ready to meditate.
The goal is to empty the mind, to focus on the breath. As usual, I find myself bringing my thoughts back. over and over. I'm not really thinking thoughts, as I had on the walk, when I was planning my day, thinking about my cousins' visit, singing to myself, and urging the dogs from stretching out, belly down in the damp grass. Instead, I am sensing. I am feeling the cool shifting water, which in turn is shifting my limbs, gently. I am watching the shadow rippling, and I am smelling the earth, damp from the morning sprinklers. I push away from the ledge, sliding back into a swim, and notice my shadow swimming ahead and below me. the stroking arms clear dark blue outlines, dancing smoothly and cleanly away from the fuzzy wavering blur that is my torso and head. The legs and feet are out of the range of my glance.
I turn back and think some more. I realize that I am not just feeling calm, or peaceful, or content. I am feeling smug. I am here, doing exactly what I want to do, exactly the way I want to do it. No one is watching the production, and I am responsible for nothing but the well-being of the fur babies and the house plants.
Yes, I should be wearing a smug hat.
No comments:
Post a Comment