Only this

Took the day off yesterday.  Had PT in the morning, after freaking myself out all weekend about the hip issue, and wondering if it meant that I'd be unable to walk shortly; contacted my regular doctor over the phone and she just prescribed stronger anti-inflammatories...anyway, felt better after the PT, so maybe it really is just my back.  Read and watched movies, interspersed with walks, all day.  Got no gardening done (which had been my intention.)  Still, walking around the lake mid-day felt somewhat like an illicit joy, like playing hooky.  With the exception of summer vacations, I've rarely had a weekday afternoon truly free, where I didn't have to: 1) do homework; 2) be somewhere later; 3) look for a place to live; or some other task.  Weekends just don't have the same feeling, and I didn't have any free time last weekend, and no other free nights this week or next.

On Saturday morning, I'd gone to get coffee and then ended up half-way around the lake, kneeling on a dock and staring into the reflection on the water, mesmerized.  There was something about the angle of the sun, the clouds, the darkness of the water, and almost (but not quite) stillness of the surface that made me lose sense of perspective, losing sense of where the edge of the dock was in comparison to the water, and I had a sense of looking into infinity.  Ducks quacked and whistled in the glare of the sun, enough that I couldn't make out who they were.  The eastern sky above the mountains had a pinkish-orange tone, even though it was long past sunrise.  There was rain falling high in the sky, gray curtains; a wind must have been blowing, pushing the lower half of the curtain at a 90 degree angle to the upper half, making the sky look like a mirror.  I was there for longer than I'd planned.  (I was kneeling because it's the only way I could sit.)  I heard a man's voice call out behind me, "It's a nice place to meditate."  I turned and looked at him to answer.  He asked, "Who designed the lake?"  And I answered something about water retention, because an old roommate used to make fun of the lake, saying it wasn't "real" that it was only storm run-off.  (And while that's where the in-flow comes from now, it was actually carved by a glacier, and got it's name because of algal blooms.  It used to cover more area, but when they put in Hwy 99, the area around got filled, the former creek flows that fed and drained the lake got covered over, and now it is pretty stagnant.  But it is a natural formation...I looked it up after.)  We said a few other things and he left.  He looked familiar, but I can't place him; some former life, I suppose.  Anyway, I wasn't carrying a camera, which I usually do, because I hadn't planned on walking there, yet, but the coffee shop was across the street...so, no pictures.  Only in my mind.

Ran into a friend as I started walking again, he turned around and walked with me, we talked about theatre, and perception, and truth, and witnessing.  I might write more on that later, not ready yet.

And because of the walking issue, was glad that I decided to finally walk in Spain when I did, and as much as I did (almost 2,000 miles.)  And then other things I've learned this week, just made me think about what I (we) get hung up on, why we don't say "yes" when we can, the petty things that don't matter, when do we think "life will happen," when is this "tomorrow" or later?...There will never be the perfect moment to do something.  What the hell are we (I) waiting for?