Friday, February 23, 2007

"Watching the faces, watching her..."

-"Push Downstairs", Underworld, Beaucoup Fish

Today was an odd day on the bus. I noticed everyone seemed a little tense when I got on - a smattering of midday selectives: folks out of work, inbetween jobs, mostly folks going to special needs places (this is common midday, and most are very vocal about it, so it's hard to miss). The driver turned out to be quite terse, causing further tension: she was cutting off other drivers, telling customers she had "no idea if the #4 is behind us, haven't you learned to read the signs inside the shelter yet?!", and so on...I watched the aggression and it's repercussions all throughout the bus: sitting up front, a drunk man quite unstable, trying to engage with everyone passing, two older women talking too loudly about their jobs and bodies both falling apart, trying to drown out the drunk man. I didn't have my headphones on, I just sat and listened and watched out the window as dogs peed and people ran for flashing lights. It felt interesting to not get engaged, to not worry for all of them, like I might normally do.

I have come to really enjoy the bus, now that I am sharing a car with someone (I was carless for five years before this). It feels the extra luxury it always was, even when I am crammed next to someone reeking of alcohol and chew at two in the afternoon, only now I appreciate even more not having to be behind the wheel. As a woman at my chiropractor noted today, getting behind the wheel is a real buzzkill after any kind of treatment (massage, acupuncture, chiropractor). Somehow, something about letting go any sense of control really helps me to maintain the relaxation, even if it takes me a bit longer to get home, and even if the drama is sometimes more engaging than today's was. The part time city job free annual bus pass doesn't hurt, either.

This last week I got more done than I have gotten done in weeks. I realized also this week that I haven't been breathing much lately. I don't really realize it until I concentrate (eg during meditation, or focusing an exhale during work) and then it is stunning how little oxygen I can make myself survive on. Besides the masochism, I have no idea why I do this, but a woman in a workshop once said "If you breathe, you can't panic", and I have found that to be true. So I've been reminding myself to breathe a lot the last couple of days, and it relaxes me almost immediately. In addition, I then remember to do more relaxing things: take a hot bath, drink some tea, walk down by the lake. The good weather has helped, of course, but winter is no excuse for no self-care. My appetite for it is increasing, a good sign in all ways. That's all I really need to see.

It's felt like a boring day ever since I woke up this morning. Quite honestly I didn't feel compelled to post out of outrageous news (though I have two retreats coming up, which is GREAT and D. is moving in, and that is EVEN MORE GREAT). I felt compelled out of boredom, to see what I could make of such an unmoved day. Nothing much, it seems. And that's ok. I'll go read for a bit, work on my novel, get some dinner with D., who noted last night we haven't been out on a date for weeks. A proper date. Oh yes. We are going to have to remember those. On the bus to meet D., I anticipate more faces, and I will watch them, and they will watch me.

No comments:

Post a Comment